“I know.”
Her confidence in him was another reason he loved her. He was doing the right thing, calling her to this law office today. He prayed she understood the gesture he was about to make.
Maneuvering to the end of the hallway, he knocked on Reese Bennett’s office door.
“Enter.”
With a flick of his wrist, Hunter opened the door, then allowed Annabeth to enter ahead of him.
“Mr. Mitchell, I—” The lawyer cut off his own words and rose quickly to his feet. “Ah, I didn’t realize you were bringing anyone with you today. Miss—” he paused, swept his eyes over Annabeth, cleared his throat “—Smith. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“Hello, Mr. Bennett. And, please, no need to pretend you haven’t heard the news. I am Annabeth Silks, not Smith. Silks. My legal name is Annabeth Silks.”
To his credit, the lawyer didn’t react with anything more than a slight nod of his head.
“Please, have a seat, both of you.” He gestured to the matching leather chairs facing his desk.
Once they were settled, the lawyer turned his attention on Hunter. “You requested this appointment, Mr. Mitchell. Am I to assume that you have another legal matter you wish for me to address?”
“I do.” He fished inside his jacket, pulled out the land deed Logan had given him and handed it across the desk. “My brother gave this to me this morning and—”
Annabeth interrupted him. “You saw Logan today?”
“I did.” He smiled. “I have much to tell you.”
“I should say so.” She laid a hand on his arm, searching his face, probing deep. He felt as if his very soul was laid bare to her. Whatever she was looking for she must have found because she dropped her hand and smiled. “It went well,” she decided. “Your meeting with your brother.”
“Better than well. We have begun the process of becoming true brothers again.”
“Oh, Hunter,” she whispered. “I’m so very happy for you both.”
The truth of her words was evident in her solemn, earnest tone. If he’d had any doubt before now, he knew the truth. This woman loved him.
And he loved her.
If he ever failed her...
The thought brought an ache to his stomach, and to his heart. Until now, Hunter had mistakenly believed he’d asked Annabeth to marry him because he was doing her a favor, offering her the protection of his name.
He’d been wrong.
Annabeth was the one doing him the favor. By agreeing to become his wife, by loving him, she was giving him the future he’d always wanted.
“Everything appears to be in order.” Bennett set the deed on his desk.
Hunter shook his head. “What’s in order?”
“This document.” The lawyer placed his finger on the paper and pushed it across the desk. “It’s perfectly legal.”
His parents would have made sure of that. “Yes, I know.”
“If you know, then why did you bring it to me for authentication?”
“I don’t need the document authenticated.” Hunter leaned forward, realizing he’d been lost in thought and hadn’t explained himself yet. “I want to sign over ownership of the land today, so that there will be no misunderstanding in the future.”
Eyebrows pulled together, Bennett placed the document back in front of him. “Mr. Mitchell, that’s not necessary. The original provision you had me put in your will covers this parcel of land, and any future assets you may acquire through the years.”
“You aren’t listening, Mr. Bennett. So let me be more clear.” Hunter turned to look at Annabeth directly. “I want all two thousand acres listed on that deed to be put in Annabeth’s name, not mine.”
“What?” She blinked at him in confusion, glancing from him to the lawyer and back to him again. “I...I don’t understand. What two thousand acres of land?”
“My parents are giving me a portion of their ranch. And I’m putting the property in your name.”
She continued blinking at him.
“I want to take care of you, Annabeth.” He took her hand, willing her to understand. “I want to ensure your future is settled no matter what happens between us. I’ve already made you a cobeneficiary of my estate with Sarah. But I want this piece of land to be yours now, today.”
“You want to take care of me.” Unhappiness sounded in her voice. “By giving me land that belongs to you.”
“That’s right.” She should be pleased. Why wasn’t she pleased?
As if sensing they needed a moment alone, Reese Bennett rose from his chair and made his way to the door. “I’ll leave you two to discuss this in private.”
The moment the door clicked shut, Annabeth yanked her hand free. “You will not do this, Hunter Mitchell. Your parents are giving you the land. Not me, you.”
“Once I explain the situation they will understand why I put the property in your name.”
“No, I won’t allow you to do this.” She jumped to her feet and scowled down at him. “Put the deed in Sarah’s name.”
“Sarah is still a child.”
“She’s your child.”
“And your niece. I want you to come to the Flying M with us, freely, with no demands or expectations.” Why was this so hard for her to understand?
“I won’t take payment like this.” She choked on a sob. “How could you ask it of me? How could you think I would agree to this?”
He’d hurt her. Somehow he’d hurt her when he’d been trying to show her he loved her. He ran her words through his brain, his mind hooking on one word in particular. Payment. “I’m not paying you to marry me.”
“Aren’t you?”
“I’m giving you a gift.” He searched for the right words to explain himself, frustrated he couldn’t seem to speak plain enough for her. “It’s no different than the silver hairbrush.”
“How can you think such a thing? This is nothing like the hairbrush. I...I...” She pulled a steadying breath into her lungs and walked regally toward the door, then spun around and glared at him. “I’m not my mother.”
“Of course you aren’t your mother.” He strode across the room to her. “What does Mattie have to do with this?”
“If I take land from you, I’m no better than one of her girls.”
That’s what she thought? That he was paying for services to be rendered at a later date?
How could she think such a thing? How could she think so little of him?
So little of herself?
Had the encounter out front left a stronger impression on her than he’d first thought?
“Annabeth, you’ve misunderstood me completely.” He gentled his voice. “I’m trying to show you how I feel.”
“By giving me land?”
“It was meant to be a grand gesture.”
“You don’t know me at all, do you?” She didn’t hide her disappointment. “You could have just told me how you feel.”
A knot formed in his throat. “Words didn’t seem enough.”
The knot turned into a thick ball of regret. He was still working through a way to rectify his mistake when she twisted open the door with a hard yank.
“Annabeth, stop. Listen to me.” He hadn’t meant to speak so harshly. But he was growing desperate. Exasperation with himself—with her, with them both—was making him careless with his words, and his tone.
She heaved a sigh. “I only needed the words.”
She said this in a small, quiet voice, and then walked out, closing the door with a firm snap.
And that was it.
Just like that, she’d walked out on him. As Maria had done all those years ago.
As Jane had, in her own way, when she’d died in the dark alley.
He processed the unexpected pain that came with another woman leaving him, a woman who had become more a part of his heart than any before her.
I only needed the words.
“I love you,” he whispered and felt the first stirrings of grief. A
nd not just grief alone, but defeat, too.
It felt like his heart was shattering into pieces.
“She’s in love with you,” Reese said from the threshold of his office.
Hunter looked up. He hadn’t heard the door open again, hadn’t known he was no longer alone.
“Don’t let your male pride keep you from going after her.” A shadow fell across the lawyer’s eyes, a look that said he knew what it was like to let love get away. “Follow her. Tell her what she needs to hear.”
No, Hunter thought, racing out of the man’s office at top speed. He wasn’t going to tell Annabeth what she needed to hear. He was going to reveal what was in his heart the right way, with his actions and his words.
* * *
Annabeth hurried down the darkened hallway of the law firm, her vision blurring with unshed tears. She didn’t run, nothing so dramatic as that, but she did move at a clipped pace. She kept her head down, avoiding eye contact as she made her way out of the building into the open street.
The cold March air punched into her lungs, the sharp pain a reminder of her misery. Unexpected snow flurries had begun to fall, clearing the streets as surely as a thunderstorm.
She turned to her left, in the opposite direction of Charity House, and set out at a fast pace.
Ten years. Ten long years she’d spent loving Hunter Mitchell, only to have it end in heartache. She had only herself to blame. She’d put her hope in a man, building him up to a dangerous level in her mind. The Bible warned of such things, of putting any man ahead of the Lord.
What had she been thinking?
She’d allowed herself to believe in a silly fairy tale.
She’d allowed herself to believe Hunter was the only man for her, as if the Lord had planned their match from the beginning of time.
That’s how her love for him had felt, as if it had been predestined.
She’d come so close to winning his heart, had actually thought she’d done just that.
How could he love her when he didn’t even know her?
I’m trying to show you how I feel.
No, he’d been trying to buy her affection, with two thousand acres of prime ranchland, as if her love had such a high price.
Her feet slowed as the heat of the moment gave way to calmer thinking. Was she being fair to Hunter? Or was she overreacting because of her run-in with that judgmental woman on the law firm’s front stoop.
Mind racing, Annabeth turned a sharp corner.
It was meant to be a grand gesture, Hunter had said. And then he’d added, Words didn’t seem enough.
Her heart thudded to a steady, calmer beat, her steps slowing to meet the new pace. How could she not have seen what he’d been trying to do, what he’d been trying to say with his actions?
Head down, she turned another corner and then stopped as complete understanding dawned at last. And with it, came the shame.
By presenting her with prime ranchland Hunter hadn’t been trying to buy her off, he’d been showing her how he felt.
And she’d tossed the gesture back in his face.
How could she have been so cruel, so thoughtless?
She had to find him, had to apologize. Lifting her head, she started to retrace her steps, then stopped again and looked around. She was on the street behind Mattie’s brothel. It was somehow fitting that she’d sought solace from her mother at a time like this.
Giving into a rueful smile, Annabeth crossed the street. The snow was coming down harder, thick and wet and far too hard to try to head back to Charity House right now.
“Good afternoon, Annabeth.”
She spun at the sound of her name spoken in a low, sinister growl. An unfamiliar man approached her. Something in his hard, ruthless gaze had her backpedaling.
“I said, good afternoon, Annabeth.”
Her heart thumped double time against her ribs. How could this stranger know her name?
She’d never met him before. She would remember that cold, black-eyed stare inside that flat, mean face.
Was he one of her mother’s customers?
That made sense. Except, no, it didn’t. She’d never met any of Mattie’s customers, one of her mother’s strictest rules.
“I see by your confusion you’re wondering how I know you.” His face cracked into a smile that revealed dirty, tobacco-stained teeth. “I’ve been watching you for some time now.”
He’d been watching her?
“You’re Hunter’s woman.”
How could he know that?
“I’m Cole Kincaid’s brother.”
She was afraid now, so afraid, for Hunter. If anything happened to her, he would blame himself. He might even seek vengeance on her behalf.
She couldn’t let that happen.
Her fear grew white-hot with each breath she took, rolling unsteadily in her stomach and beating a dull ache behind her eyes.
A wave of nausea took hold. She pushed the sensation down and flung herself into a run.
Her pursuer followed hard on her heels, caught her by the arm and dragged her into the alley beside her mother’s brothel.
In an attempt to twist out of his hold, Annabeth stumbled twice. Never breaking stride, Cole’s brother continued jerking her along with him.
The snow was falling heavier, faster, cutting off visibility beyond a few feet in front of them.
There was no one left on the streets, no one to help her. She lifted up a silent prayer to God.
Fear continued pumping in her veins. Her breath came quick and sharp as she fought to keep the blinding tears at bay.
She needed to keep a clear head.
A swift wrench and she broke free of her attacker’s grasp. She made it five full steps before she felt a hand grip her hair.
A sudden yank and she went down. Hard.
Her attacker dragged her back to her feet and then pulled her deeper into the alley. He wedged her up against the building.
She jerked her knee up, kicking him hard.
Howling in pain, he leaned over her with evil intent.
She kicked again, landing blows wherever she could.
He cursed her, and then dug his fingers into her throat. She clawed at him in return, reaching for his eyes.
Catching her hands, he pinned them by her sides. She struggled, but he was too big, too strong and she was too small.
She sucked in a rough breath, suddenly remembering what Mattie had taught her to do if she was ever attacked like this.
Opening her mouth, Annabeth cried out for help at the top of her lungs.
She screamed and screamed and screamed.
He slapped his hand over her mouth. “Shut up.”
She bit his palm.
His red-rimmed eyes lit with rage and he called her a filthy name.
Pulling away from his hand, she screamed again.
“I said shut up.” He yanked his gun out its holster and pointed it at her head.
She went perfectly still, utterly silent.
Breathing hard, they eyed one another. Jamming the tip harder against her temple, he called her another ugly name.
She shut her eyes, refusing to react.
“Let her go, Rico.”
Her eyes flew open. That cold, angry voice belonged to Hunter.
Annabeth nearly collapsed in relief, but she didn’t dare look in his direction.
Rico had no such qualms.
With the gun still pressed to her head, he glanced at Hunter and snarled. “You got here quicker than I thought you would. This one must mean something to you.”
“Let her go.”
“Not a chance.” The gun never leaving her temple, Rico spun her around and yanked her back against him.
Using her as a human shield, he shifted until they faced Hunter together. “You think I’d let you get away with killing my brother? That I wouldn’t hunt you down? Make you pay?”
“Let her go.” This time, Hunter’s eyes were deadly calm as he spoke. Whatever he was feeling was care
fully masked behind that cold, menacing stare.
He was going to fight for Annabeth’s life.
But he didn’t have a gun, or any weapon. Not even a knife.
Rico had all the advantage.
“You took the last of my family. Now I’m going to take yours. One member at a time.” Rico pulled the hammer back on the gun. “Starting with this little filly here.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Hunter checked his balance, sorting through his options at lightning speed. Ice-cold rage pulsed through his blood. He’d only experienced this surge of violence once before. When he’d found Jane dead in an alley similar to this one, lying crumpled and broken in a dark corner.
He pushed the memory away and focused on the present. On Annabeth. The woman he loved now.
Shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet, he moved his glance to Rico’s ugly face. The hate was there, in the other man’s eyes, smoldering inside the fury.
His past had found him again. In the form of Cole Kincaid’s wicked, younger brother, a man known for his fast reflexes and cold, spiteful heart.
“Let her go, Rico.” Hunter repeated the words, then moved a step forward. “It’s me you want to hurt.”
“True. But we both know your weakness is your woman.”
Eyes narrowing to two mean slits of hate, Rico used his free hand to yank on Annabeth’s hair, tugging until she cried out in pain.
Hunter surged forward.
“Stop right there.” Rico jammed the barrel of his gun harder into Annabeth’s temple. “Or I’ll shoot her dead.”
Hunter froze.
Hands rising in the air, palms forward, he forced his brain to work through possible solutions.
Only one came to mind. Infuriate Rico enough to get him to point the gun at Hunter.
The outlaw didn’t look well. His physique had gone from lean to gaunt and his skin was a sickly, pasty white. Although three years younger than Hunter, Rico’s eyes had the rheumy hue of an old man.
Perhaps his reflexes had slowed with the loss of his health.
“Last I saw you, Rico—” Hunter edged a fraction closer “—you were crossing the border into Mexico, chasing after some senorita who wasn’t your wife.”
Rico ignored the taunt. “When I heard you were getting out of prison,” he hissed, “I decided to come and finish the job my brother failed to do.”
Renee Ryan Page 22