A Worthy Pursuit

by Karen Witemeyer

  Her eyes flew open. What was she thinking? Worse, what was she doing? Pulse racing, she stepped back and glanced around, sure she’d find curious or even disapproving eyes on her. But no one was looking at her save John, still standing by the piano.

  “Can I play for Lily, Miss Lottie?” he called out to her the moment their gazes met, as if he’d been patiently waiting for her to finish with Stone and look his way. “She wants to dance.”

  Lily immediately clapped her hands. “Oh yes, Miss Lottie. Please. It looked like so much fun.”

  And suddenly all eyes were on her. Warmth crept up Charlotte’s neck and cheeks. “Of course you can play.” Anything to get their eyes off of her. “I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

  John scrambled onto the bench again and filled the room with the bouncy melody of “Oh! Susanna.” Stephen took up his spoons again while Marietta twirled about the floor with Lily. Even Daniel Barrett slapped his thumb against his leg to the beat as he leaned against the wall.

  Charlotte inched toward the piano, finding it surprisingly difficult to leave Stone’s side despite her embarrassment at being caught so close to him. She had just begun a strong internal lecture to herself on the importance of proper decorum when Stone placed his hand on her arm and stopped not only her movement but her ability to form a coherent thought.

  “Not just yet,” he murmured. “I need to talk to you first.”

  She turned. “About what?”

  “Dorchester.”

  Charlotte’s stomach lurched. Was this where he told her he was leaving? He’d taken care of Franklin. Rescued Lily. She had no right to expect more from him. Just because he’d shared a few sunset walks with her didn’t give her the right to make demands of him. Heaven knew he’d already done far more for her and the children than anyone else would have in his position.

  “All . . . right.” She inhaled a fortifying breath. “Shall we step into the hall?”

  He nodded and shuffled sideways to let her pass through the doorway ahead of him. His hand found the indention of her back as she did so, and Charlotte had to press her lips together to restrain a sigh of pleasure. Why did his touch always have to melt her insides to syrup? If ever she needed to be strong, it was now. Determined to find her backbone, she pivoted to face him and effectively separated herself from his touch.

  “So?” she queried, bracing her heart for the blow to come. “What did you need to tell me?”

  “Dorchester’s not going to stop coming after Lily, Charlotte. Not unless we make him stop. I’ve bought us a couple weeks, but I think we should make our move before then. Catch him off guard.”

  Charlotte blinked. Stone’s words were so different from what she’d expected, it took a moment for her mind to sort them out. “What move?”

  He smiled at her then, the lopsided grin of one eager to please yet unsure of the outcome. “Dan and I spent the last two days plotting, and I think we’ve come up with a solid plan, a way to get the upper hand with Dorchester while ensuring he leaves Lily alone. For good.”

  “That sounds wonderful!” The fact that he wasn’t saying good-bye was wonderful in and of itself, but to think he might have found a way to defeat Dorchester . . . why, it was enough to set Charlotte’s heart humming with excitement. “Tell me.”

  His smile dimmed a bit, his expression growing cautionary. “You’re not going to like it.”

  30

  Stone watched Charlotte mentally brace herself. She inhaled, took a small step back with her left foot, then lowered her shoulders as she released her breath. What she didn’t do was don that serene mask of hers that she’d always shielded herself with before. This time she looked him straight in the eye. All Charlotte. No wall.

  “I’m ready.”

  Saints above, in that moment, with her turquoise eyes peering up at him with equal parts trust and determination, he couldn’t have recounted his plan had Dorchester himself walked through the door and held a gun to his head. Why had he even brought up the issue anyway? They should be in there with the others, singing and dancing and celebrating Lily’s return. But, no. In his infinite stupidity, he’d thought it’d be better to get the bad news over with first thing. Give her more time to get used to the idea before they actually had to put it into action.

  “Stone?”

  “Sorry. I . . . It can wait. I shouldn’t have pulled you away.” At least not for this. Now a kiss? That would have been a good reason to sequester her in the hallway. Man, he wanted to pull her into his arms like she’d done with Lily a few moments ago. Hold her close. Breathe in her delicate scent. Rub his bristled cheek against her soft hair until the strands tangled in his beard growth as they had during that first sunset stroll.

  Charlotte rolled her eyes at him. “For heaven’s sake, Stone Hammond. You can’t drag a lady away on the pretext of urgent news—urgent, unpleasant news—and then tell her it can wait. I’ll be fretting all evening if you don’t tell me now.”

  Yep. He’d bungled it, all right.

  Charlotte’s toe tapped against the floorboards. “Well? Spit it out.”

  “I’m going to take Lily back to Dorchester.”

  All color drained from Charlotte’s face. Only then did Stone realize how his words must have sounded. Of all the idiotic ways to spit something out. He reached out, thinking to steady her, but she shook her head at him. Her slender throat worked up and down as if she were trying to swallow something distasteful.

  “Lottie, I didn’t mean that like it—”

  She held up her hand to silence him. Then she straightened her posture, raised her chin, and met his gaze head-on. He expected to see accusation. Betrayal. Denial. But what he saw instead speared his heart with so much pride, he thought he might explode from it.

  Trust. Her eyes still glowed with trust.

  “All right. We take Lily back to Dorchester. Then what?”

  A mass of riotous feelings stampeded through him like a runaway herd. And like a steer caught up in the frenzy, he followed the leader right over the cliff. He grabbed Charlotte to him and kissed her. Fully. Passionately. With an ardency that bordered on wildness.

  Stone cupped her face in both his hands, his thumbs stroking the satiny skin of her cheeks as his mouth slanted over hers. Shock vibrated through her, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she clutched his shoulders for balance. Taking that as permission, he dragged her against his chest, needing to feel her close, needing to stake his claim.

  She trusted him. This woman, who’d been betrayed by one man after another over the course of her life, trusted him. Him—the man sent by her enemy to steal Lily from her.

  Stone’s arms tightened about her, his palms sliding over her back as he eradicated any distance between them. What little rational thought he retained warned he was moving too fast. He tried to rein himself in, to gentle the kiss, but just as he started to lift his head, Charlotte bounced up on her tiptoes and grabbed at his neck with her hands. As if the threat of losing her connection with him had galvanized her, she broke free of her shock and kissed him back with an innocent fervor that sent blood pounding through his veins far faster than cattle on stampede. Her fingers tangled in the hair at his nape. A tiny mewling sound echoed in her throat. And her lips—her glorious, soft, willing lips—pressed into his until he swore he could taste the same desire in her that raged through him.

  The reins were forgotten. Stone reached around her neck to the back of her head, positioning her for his renewed attentions, but the sound of boot heels scuffing along the wooden floor pulled him back.

  “I see you’re explaining our plan in vivid detail.”

  Charlotte stiffened at the sound of Dan’s voice. Stone immediately tucked her head against his chest to shelter her from their visitor’s gaze then shot a glare at his partner, one that promised slow and painful retribution.

  “She seems to be taking the news better than we expected.”

  “Shut up,” Stone growled.

  Dan laughed. “Oh, don�
��t mind me,” he said, holding his hands out in a gesture of surrender that was anything but. “I was just heading to the kitchen to fetch some water for Miss Hawkins. All that dancing has plumb wore her out.”

  “Get on with it, then.”

  “I’m goin’.”

  Yeah. With the speed of a tortoise on a broken leg. Stone narrowed his gaze, zeroing in on the gun belt slung low on Dan’s hips and the target it presented in the rear. He calculated all the ways he could land a swift kick in the designated zone, but unfortunately, all methods required releasing Charlotte—something he wasn’t yet willing to do. So he bit the inside of his cheek and waited.

  “Oh,” the limping turtle offered as he finally reached the doorway leading to the kitchen, “I happened to notice that Mr. Hawkins’s study is unoccupied if you wished to continue your discussion in there. Might be a good idea to go over the plan someplace where the kids are less likely to see . . . er . . . hear.”

  The tiny embarrassed groan that leaked out of Charlotte as she turned to hide her face more fully against Stone’s chest was the last straw. Stone jabbed his right hand into his coat pocket and pulled out the first object he encountered with sufficient heft. His coin pouch. He hurled it at Dan’s grinning face, forcing the man to forgo his snickering long enough to duck. He wasn’t fast enough, though. The pouch collided with Dan’s hat, sending it flying behind him. Not quite as satisfying as a black eye, but Stone would take it.

  “All right, all right.” Dan backed away, his eyes still flashing with far too much glee. “I accept your bribe. Mum’s the word.” He covered his mouth with his hand and backed into the kitchen, finally leaving Stone and Charlotte in peace.

  The mood well and truly broken, Stone dropped a quick kiss on the top of Charlotte’s head and urged her toward the closed door on her right that led to the study. “Come on, sweetheart. He might be as ornery as a buckin’ horse in a cactus saddle, but he’s right about one thing. It’s better if the others don’t overhear.”

  Lifting her chin, she separated herself from him. Her cheeks blazed like a rosebush in full bloom, but her eyes sparked with determination. “All right, but you’ll be staying on your own side of the desk for the duration of this conversation, Mr. Hammond. Understood?”

  Stone bit back a grin and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  As he opened the door and followed her into the study, he couldn’t help but notice that the schoolmarm tone he’d always found so off-putting in the past didn’t bother him in the least when it came from a mouth still swollen and moist from his kiss.

  Charlotte gripped her hands together as she entered the study, trying desperately to still their trembling. What had she been thinking? To allow him to kiss her like that where anyone could walk by and see. Where someone had walked by and seen. A new wave of heat flooded her face. Mercy. A teacher could lose her position for such a display.

  But then, she wasn’t really a teacher anymore, was she? And after worrying about Stone and Lily for three and a half days, seeing them both home—whole and unharmed—she hadn’t been able to hold her emotions in check. She’d tried. Heaven knew, she’d tried. She’d not thrown her arms about his neck like she had with Lily, even when her muscles physically ached with the desire to do so. She’d averted her gaze from his face as much as humanly possible and nearly escaped to take refuge at the piano until he’d lured her into the hall.

  His touch had shattered her pretense, though, and captured all her attention. Leaving her vulnerable. Exposed. When his mouth met hers, she’d been helpless to resist. All the worry, all the longing she’d stored up since they’d arrived at the ranch, had erupted like a geyser out of a heart long dormant.

  She’d thrown herself into his kiss as if it were the key to her survival. That was the true reason Daniel Barrett’s interruption embarrassed her so deeply. Not because he’d caught her allowing Stone’s kiss, but because she’d been such a willing participant. No decorum. No restraint. Just a staggering relief that he was safe, and a love so strong she couldn’t contain it.

  Love. Charlotte rounded the large mahogany desk and slowly lowered herself into Mr. Hawkins’s chair, her right palm pressed firmly against her belly. Keeping her gaze glued to the desk, she fought to shove the word back into the dark prison it had escaped from. This wasn’t love. It was just . . . strong friendship? Camaraderie? Her heart was still protected. It had to be.

  “You’re awfully quiet, Lottie.” Stone laid his arm atop the desk, palm up, the invitation obvious. “Don’t let Dan’s teasing bother you. He doesn’t mean anything by it. Just likes giving me a hard time is all.”

  She stared at his hand. The lines creasing his palm. The relaxed fingers slightly curved. She wanted to place her hand in his—to renew that connection. But she dared not. Not when her self-control was so weak. So she pretended she didn’t see it as she lifted her chin and schooled her features into a prim expression. “We’re here to discuss your plan, I believe, not Mr. Barrett’s antics.”

  Next, she pretended she didn’t see the flicker of disappointment in his eyes as he straightened and withdrew his hand. And after that, she pretended not to feel the stab of loneliness that cut through her when he shuttered his own emotions away. Well, for a few seconds at least. Until the warmth drained from his gaze, and she nearly shivered at the loss.

  Thrusting both hands out onto the desk toward him, she slouched forward. “I’m sorry, Stone. You didn’t deserve that.” Treating him like a recalcitrant child was unpardonable after all he’d done for her. For Lily. “I just . . .” Plain speaking, Charlotte. Don’t be a coward. “I’m afraid of what you make me feel.”

  She dropped her chin. There was no possible way she could look at him after saying that. Harsh seconds passed. The only audible sound, the thumping of her own heart. He didn’t say anything. Or do anything. Her heart pounded faster, harder. Her throat constricted. She’d done it now. Turned him away. No man liked to talk about feelings. Especially a rugged warrior of a man who probably viewed her company as nothing more than a pleasant way to pass the time.

  Even as the thought presented itself, another argued. Hadn’t he promised to pursue her when Lily’s situation was resolved? A man wouldn’t say something like that unless he meant it, would he? Or unless he was a clever rogue who used promises like that to woo women into his arms. No, Stone wouldn’t do that. Her heart rebelled at the very idea. Yet hadn’t her heart proven untrustworthy in the past?

  Moisture gathered in her eyes, but she bit her lip against the urge to let it roll down her cheeks. How desperate she must seem to him. The lonely spinster craving something so far above her reach. Stone Hammond—handsome, intelligent, valiant as any knight on a steed—he could do much better than her. He was just too kind to say the words. That’s why he said nothing.

  She needed to leave. Now. Barricade herself in her room. Away from his pity. His apology. Charlotte jerked her arms back toward herself and shoved to her feet, her mind focused solely on escape.

  His hands captured hers before she cleared the desk. His strong, wonderful hands. Hands that had rescued Lily from Franklin. Hands that had cupped her cheeks a moment ago as if she were the most precious of treasures. Hands that now held her fast, as if promising never to let go.

  “Wait, Charlotte.” The raspy whisper didn’t sound like the Stone she knew. No confidence. No swagger. He almost sounded as if his throat were as constricted as hers. “Please. I . . .”

  She still couldn’t bring herself to look at him, but she ceased trying to pull away from his hold.

  “My feelings scare me, too.”

  Charlotte’s head whipped around. Her gaze searched his face. The drawn line of his mouth. The tension working in his jaw. His eyes—gracious, his eyes. So intense. So sincere. Yet not without a flicker of unease, making the truth of his admission undeniable.

  “I’m thirty-five years old, Charlotte. I’m rough around the edges, not much accomplished with book-learnin’, and I’ve grown so accustomed to
the seedy underbelly of life that I’m not sure I would know how to live amongst normal folk. I’m guilty of bloodshed and violence. I’m about as far your opposite as a man can get.” He cocked a half grin at her, so self-deprecating it made her chest ache. “You’re elegant. Refined. More educated than I could ever hope to be. And the way you play the piano? I doubt even one of God’s angels could match it. You’re loyal, dedicated, protective of those in your care . . . and honey, you’re so dad-gummed beautiful it near suffocates me every time you unleash one of your smiles in my direction.”

  Charlotte shook her head at him, unable to believe what she was hearing. Stone loosened his grip just enough to caress the backs of her hands with his thumbs.

  “I want you in my life, Charlotte Atherton. More than I’ve ever wanted anything. And it scares the living daylights out of me. Because no matter how hard I fight or how long I wait, I have no guarantee you’ll ever trust me with your heart.”

  The first tear slid past her lashes and down her cheek. Then a second. And a third. He knew. Knew how broken she was. How afraid she was to love a man who might someday betray her. She’d learned to trust him with Lily’s safety, but with her heart? The shriveled organ throbbed painfully at the mere suggestion.

  “I love you, Lottie, and I want to make you my wife.” Stone’s low voice rumbled between them. Ardent. Unwavering. Determined. “I’ll pursue you,” he vowed, “until a parson either joins us in marriage or speaks words over my grave.”

  It was too much. The riotous joy. The soul-stirring terror. But it was the image of him in the cold ground, lonely and unfulfilled, and the knowledge that she was the one who had put him there that sent her fleeing. A sob in her throat, she tore her hands away from his and ran.

  31

  Stone caught her before she reached the door. “Don’t run from me, Charlotte.” His voice was more plea than demand. Perhaps that was why she ceased trying to pull away from him.