A Worthy Pursuit (25 page)

“Look at me, Charlotte.” His gruff murmur vibrated barely above a whisper. She stilled, her gaze remaining locked on the ground. “Look at me,” he said again.

Her face inched upward but stalled before her eyes met his. He placed a curled finger beneath her chin and helped her ascend the rest of the way. Her lashes dipped, cheating him from
the sight of her beautiful eyes. So he waited, holding her chin in place until the curtain finally lifted. A smile tugged at his mouth at her shy regard. It made her look younger, fresher, untouched by the world’s disappointments. The way she should look all the time.

“When I took the job with Dorchester,” Stone said, his eyes delving into hers, “I decided it would be my last retrieval. At thirty-five, it’s past time for me to quit living in the saddle and start putting down some roots. But tonight I’ve changed my mind. I’m gonna complete one more job before I retire.”

Charlotte’s lashes fell over her eyes again. “Because you won’t be able to collect your fee from this one.” She sounded so certain of her presumption, so wretchedly understanding about it all.

Stone’s smile widened. “Not because of the money.” He paused, waited for her lashes to flutter out of the way.

“To reestablish your reputation?” she guessed. “Failing to retrieve Lily for Mr. Dorchester will leave your perfect record tarnished.”

Stone shook his head. “I don’t need a reputation for what I got in mind. But I
do
plan not to let anything get in the way of my completing this final job.”

Her brows furrowed. “You sound as if you already have it lined up. Did Mr. Barrett inform you of someone in the area in need of your skills?”

“Nope. I’ll be working solely for myself this time around.”

“Yourself? I don’t understand. What do you plan to retrieve?”

Stone bent his head close, his heated gaze delving into hers. “You.”

Charlotte peered at him, searching. Her own eyes glowed with confusion and a touch of fear, but there was a longing beneath it all that shot straight to Stone’s heart and injected a healthy dose of hope.

He opened his mouth to say something—what, he wasn’t sure. But before he could utter a word, Charlotte spun away from him, grabbed up her skirts, and fled.

Stone watched her go. Smiled as she halted at the edge of the barn to smooth her clothing and hair. Her shoulders lifted as she inhaled a deep breath, no doubt fighting to reclaim the control his bold proclamation had shattered.

She didn’t glance back at him, but he could feel the pull that stretched between them. She wanted to. For now, that was enough.

“Beware, Charlotte Atherton,” Stone murmured as she disappeared around the corner of the barn. “I’m coming for you.” A smile of anticipation stretched across his face. “And I always retrieve what I set out after.”

24

Each of the last two mornings when the sun rose, Charlotte had awoken and begun counting the hours until it would set again. For that’s when Stone would court her. She had no other words to describe his actions despite her valiant efforts to explain it away as something else. Kindness? No, it was more than that. Flirtation? Not when he’d declared his intention to
retrieve
her.

Tonight, she sat on the edge of her bed and picked up her brush from the small bedside table, one of the few pieces of furniture in the bedroom of Daniel Barrett’s cabin. She tilted her head and brushed the tangles from her hair as she recalled Stone’s words to her on their first stroll. A secret smile curved her lips, escaping the confines of her control now that the children were abed for the night on their cots in the main room, and she was alone with her thoughts.

Retrieve her
. She should be offended by the notion. It sounded like something a Labrador would do to a dead bird. Hardly a romantic image. Yet when Stone had said it, his eyes had lit with purpose, and a shiver had danced through her midsection, stirring all manner of dreams she’d thought securely packed away.

Relentless. That’s how Lily’s novels described him. Would Stone pursue her with the same tenacity he exhibited when hunting down a villain? There’d be no reward spurring him on. Nothing beyond the atrophied affections of a washed-up spinster. She wasn’t even sure she knew how to love a man. She’d spent so many years training herself not to, that opening herself to such a possibility made her heart ache like an out-of-use muscle suddenly called upon to heft a great weight.

The brush stilled in her hand.
What
would you have me do, Lord? I’m afraid of
being hurt again, but I can’t let fear rule
my life forever. If only I could know for sure
that Stone won’t ever leave me.

Charlotte sighed wistfully. A guarantee would make everything so much easier. She’d promise herself to Stone this very minute if she had proof he’d never betray her. But life offered no guarantees—she knew that better than anyone.

Trust in the
Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine
own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he
shall direct thy paths.

The familiar proverb rose in her mind to convict her. She’d leaned on her own understanding for all of her adult life. It was how she maintained order, control. How she avoided pain. But what if her own understanding was flawed this time? What if God was trying to direct her paths and her fear of future hurt was impeding his plan? Or what if it wasn’t God directing her but her own foolish longings? How was she to know the difference?

Charlotte sighed in frustration and set the brush back on the small table. Gathering the length of her hair, she pulled it forward over her right shoulder and started braiding it.

Once her braid was secured with a scrap of ribbon, Charlotte stood and slipped her arms into her dressing gown. She’d check
on the children one last time before going to sleep. The path involving Stone might be unclear, but she had a firm grasp on her purpose regarding Lily and the boys.

Padding on bare feet, she opened the bedroom door and peered into the darkened room. The bedroom lamp allowed enough light to see, but not enough to disturb the young sleepers. Stephen and John shared a pallet in the corner, John in a cocoon of blankets, his small body completely still and contained while Stephen’s legs and arms were flung every which way, with only a corner of the blanket clinging to his middle. Charlotte smiled at the odd pair, each so dear in his own way. She glided over to them, bent, and straightened the twisted blanket until it once again covered Stephen adequately. Then she placed a gentle kiss on each forehead before straightening and crossing to the small settee where Lily bedded down.

Her face looked so peaceful in sleep, so untroubled.

“Help me keep her safe, Lord,” Charlotte whispered before touching her lips to Lily’s brow.

A quiet knock sounded on the front door. Frowning, Charlotte turned. Who would be at her door this time of night? The rapping sounded again. Louder this time.

Stephen moaned and flopped over on his side. The action spurred Charlotte forward. The children needed their rest. Besides, good news never came calling at night. Only bad. The children had had enough upheaval already without adding more worries to their load. Stone had promised to notify her at once if anyone spotted Franklin around the ranch. Perhaps that time had finally arrived.

Her abdomen twisted, but she lifted her chin and hurried to the door. “Trust in the Lord,” Charlotte murmured under her breath, the reminder helping her reestablish her composure. He
could
be trusted. He’d sent Stone to protect them, after all.

Only it wasn’t Stone outside her door. When she pulled back the swath of burlap Daniel Barrett used for a curtain, she found two cowhands standing on the cabin’s porch, their faces too shadowed for her to make out. The one doing the knocking must have caught the curtain’s movement, for he stepped over to the window and politely yanked his hat from his head.

“You mind openin’ the door, ma’am?” His muffled voice distorted as it passed through the window glass.

Charlotte shook her head. She wasn’t about to open the door without them stating their business. Their being here at all was highly improper. She did recognize the one at the window, though, so a few of the knots in her stomach relaxed.

He was one of the young stable boys who tended the horses and kept the barn clean. Jimmy, she thought. He couldn’t be more than sixteen or seventeen, judging by the smoothness of his cheeks, but he was as tall as any of the other hands around the ranch. Charlotte had come across him in the stables a time or two over the past few days.

“I’m sorry to disturb you at such an hour, ma’am, but you’re needed up at the big house.” He crouched down in order to position his face closer to the window so she could hear him better. “Miz Hawkins sent for ya. She took sick all sudden like . . . with an . . . ah, womanly ailment. She’s in terrible pain, ma’am, but too embarrassed to let any of us menfolk help her. My brother will watch over the kids while I escort you to the house.”

Charlotte nibbled her lip in indecision. She longed to assist Marietta in her time of need, but she didn’t feel comfortable leaving the children in a stranger’s care. Especially since the second man made no move to step closer to the window.

Dropping the burlap curtain, Charlotte stepped to the door and lifted the heavy bar that blocked the men’s entrance. Hold
ing her wrapper closed around her throat, she opened the door just enough to peek her head out.

“I’d be happy to assist Miss Hawkins,” she said in a low voice, “but I’d prefer it if Mr. Hammond watched the children in my absence. They are more comfortable with him, you see.” She turned an apologetic smile to the man in the shadows.

The instant her head turned, the shadowy man charged. He thrust his arm through the slim opening and slammed his palm into her shoulder. Charlotte gasped and staggered back, almost tumbling onto her rump. The man shoved his way into the cabin, throwing the door wide. Only then did she see his face.

One of the attackers from
the road.

“Lily!” Charlotte spun and ran for the settee, but the man grabbed her from behind and covered her mouth with his hot, meaty hand.

Charlotte screamed against his palm and kicked out with her legs, twisting and writhing in terror. He didn’t even grunt as her bare feet batted him.

Stephen was the first to wake. He bounded to his feet, narrowed his eyes, and let out a war cry. “Let go of Miss Lottie!” Lowering his head like a bull, he charged Charlotte’s captor. Jimmy rammed into him first, shouldering him with enough force to send the boy sprawling onto the floor. He crumpled into a heap, moaned, and raised a hand to his head.

Lily screamed Stephen’s name, her legs tangling in her covers in her haste to get to him. “You big bully!” she yelled, her eyes spitting fire as she scrambled over to Stephen. “When Stone finds out about this, he’s gonna whup you good.”

Jimmy darted a glance from the girl to his brother and back again. His chest heaved as if he were suddenly having difficulty catching his breath. The threat wasn’t an idle one, and he knew
it. “Are you sure about this, Winston? They aren’t acting like they’ve been kidnapped.”

“Do what I tell ya, boy. You owe me.” Winston’s foul breath turned Charlotte’s stomach. “Franklin can sort out the details. All I care about is the fifty dollars he promised anyone who could find the girl. If we
bring
the girl to him, he’ll up the price. Thar may be a hun’red in it for us. You wanna keep shoveling manure all your life, or you want a real man’s pay?”

Awakened by the commotion, John whimpered and clutched the blanket to his chin like a shield. He sat up and scooted his back as far into the corner as he could, drawing his knees up in front of him.

“Grab the girl.” Charlotte’s captor twisted so he could scowl at Lily. “We’re rescuin’ you, runt. You’ll thank us when you’re back with your family.”

“Miss Lottie
is
my family,” Lily wailed. “My mama gave me to her.”

Charlotte nodded her head vigorously against the cowboy’s hold, but his grip only tightened, his hand pressing so hard against Charlotte’s mouth, her teeth began to ache.

“Jimmy,” Winston ground out between clenched teeth, “get to it.”

The younger brother approached Lily like one would a cornered animal. Hunched over, arms outstretched to catch her if she tried to bolt. Lily shook her head. “No! I’m not going with you. I’m staying with Miss Lottie and Stone.”

“I’m not gonna hurt ya,” Jimmy cajoled.

Stephen pushed to his feet and placed himself between the girl and the much larger man. “Leave us alone.”

“Can’t do that, kid,” Winston growled next to Charlotte’s ear.

“Sorry,” Jimmy murmured as he grabbed Stephen by the neck. He flung him over the arm of the settee as if he wanted
to give the boy a soft landing on the cushions. Then he wasted no time lunging for Lily. She screamed, but he was ready. He stuffed a wadded bandana in her mouth and scooped her up, keeping her arms pinned to her chest. She kicked her legs, ramming her heels into his hip, but the lanky young man seemed impervious to the attack.

Seeing Lily in the man’s arms snapped something inside Charlotte. She went wild, launching herself upward with her legs as she slammed her head back. Her skull crashed into the forehead of her captor with a satisfying crack.

“Ow!” Winston called her a foul name then threw her against the wall. The force of the collision stole her breath for precious seconds. Just as she found her wind and opened her mouth to scream, Winston thrust an acrid cloth into her mouth. It tasted of sweat and dirt, but Charlotte pushed at it with her tongue anyway. She had to get it out. Had to scream for help.

But it was no use. The man was too strong. In a matter of minutes, he stripped the belt from her wrapper and used it to tie her hands behind her back. He leaned close to secure the gag to her mouth with a handkerchief he’d pulled from his pocket. Stephen, bless him, rushed past, making a beeline for the door.