might believe that as an outlaw’s wife, she was tainted.
Perhaps she was. She was certainly not the carefree girl who had run away with Ram, her hopes and dreams as fresh as sunrise.
Life had hardened her, and yet motherhood had made her more compassionate.
She hated to think it, but her parents might not even recognize their little girl. They would love her, still. She knew that. Maybe once she fell into their embrace, something of that carefree girl would return.
In the end, all of the hoping in the world was not going to allow her to sleep. Nerves jittered inside her until all she could do was pace from the window to the door, from the door to the window.
It was late, eleven o’clock. The clerk downstairs had told her that they kept a fire going in the lobby all night for restless guests and folks coming in at odd hours.
She paused in front of the hook on the wall where her new dress hung. She took it down and put it on. It smelled fresh. She doubted the day would come when fresh-smelling clothes would go unappreciated.
Not feeling like making a fuss over her hair, she combed her fingers through it and let it fall loose about her shoulders. She put on her new shoes then bent over Seth’s crate to make sure his breathing remained deep and slow.
Good, it would be safe to go downstairs for a short time.
She closed the door behind her with a quiet click then walked down the hall to the stair landing.
From where she stood she could see most of the lobby. The scene was cozy with stuffed chairs placed in a half circle about the fireplace. Lamps on side tables were turned low for the night. They cast the parlor in a pretty amber glow.
She heard the ticktock of a grandfather clock but couldn’t see it.
At the foot of the stairs, she paused, faced with a pleasant decision. Should she pass these quiet moments in front of the fire, or sit beside the window and watch the storm blow by?
It had been an age since she felt this secure.
It occurred to her that she didn’t have to make a choice. She could do both.
She would start with the window.
All of a sudden the front door opened, blowing in a gust of sleet and Reeve Prentis.
“Evening, Melody.” He removed his slush-dampened hat and coat then hung them on the hall tree beside the door. “I wondered if you’d get any sleep tonight.”
Lamplight and fire glow certainly flattered Reeve. The warm light cast his eyes a deeper shade of green. A shadow brushed the cleft in his chin and highlighted the curve of his smile.
If she were a different person, at a different place in her life, she would reach out and touch his cold, ruddy-looking cheek.
“I tried but...” She shrugged. “What are you doing out so late and in this weather?”
“Town marshal’s down with a fever. I told him I’d make his rounds.”
“That was kind of you.”
“Just part of the job.”
“That was dedicated of you, then.”
The smile he flashed gave her heart a skip. That would not do. Last time her heart gave a skip... Well, she did have her boys.
“Would you care to sit for a while?” he asked.
“By the fire or the window?”
“Window. We can enjoy the storm and keep warm at the same time.”
He enjoyed storms? So did she. There was something so snug about sheltering inside while everything raged outside.
“Would you like some tea, Reeve? Maybe I can find some in the kitchen.”
“I’d be grateful.”
Those long fingers of his looked as if they needed to be wrapped around something warm. For an instant, she imagined being that something.
What, she wondered, would those big calloused fingers feel like, touching the curve of her...? That was a thought she would not indulge in. Someday she might be able to think of a man that way, but not yet.
She hurried away, hoping that he hadn’t noticed the blush heating her face.
* * *
After ten minutes, Melody walked into the parlor carrying two cups of fragrant, steaming tea. Reeve was almost sorry that the blush had faded from her cheeks. She looked pretty with that high coloring.
He took the cup Melody offered. She sat down on the chair across from him.
A mixture of rain and snow dripped down the window. Wind whistled and moaned.
“I wonder if the weather will keep us from leaving the hotel in the morning,” she said with a sidelong glance outside.
“Would you want it to?” He studied the delicate pucker of her brow, wondering about the troubles that had to be churning her mind. It would only be natural for her to worry about what would happen tomorrow.
“No!” She looked out the window again. “Well, maybe...”
“Things might not go easy at first.”
“I’m used to hard, Reeve.” She snapped her gaze back to him. “I can handle that for myself. But my babies, and the other children... I want things to go easy for them. Libby and Joe have only known hard.”
“I reckon your folks will need some time to adjust. That’s only reasonable, but they’ll come around.”
“I hope so.” Her mouth firmed into a look of conviction. “I believe so.”
“So do I.” He took a gulp of his tea then smiled at her. “Thanks for this.”
“You don’t need to thank me for anything, Reeve.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. Something in her eyes told him that the gesture did not come easily. “I can never pay you back for all you’ve done for me. And don’t tell me it’s just your job. I won’t hear it.”
“You’re welcome, Melody. You and the children have been refreshing traveling companions. It’s criminals that I normally escort.”
Not one single person that he’d escorted had ever touched his hand in friendship.
“It must be lonely, spending so much time away from your kin.”
Lonely and necessary.
“I see them when I can...holidays and such.”
“That doesn’t seem like enough. You speak so fondly of your nieces.”
Being away so much wasn’t right. He knew it. But he had a living to earn for his mother and his youngest sister—and a sin to atone for while he did it.
