he supposed to do with a five-year-old kid? Keep him in Luke’s own room above the saloon? Ridiculous.
A flash of inspiration hit him. Maybe this woman could help. When she married Daniel, then maybe she and Daniel could raise the boy together. Wouldn’t that be a nice, tidy solution?
“Tell us what you’re doing on Daniel’s doorstep. How…how well do you know him?” Jenny’s clear blue eyes, as deep as the Rio Grande, met his. His palms got clammy.
A yearning to escape this place and ride hell-bent for Cheyenne pulsed through him. “I know him well. Daniel and I grew up together. His family took me in when my father died. We used to be best friends.”
Jenny’s mouth sprang open in alarm. She stepped back and took a good, hard look at him. “Best friends?” Her slender neck infused with color, then her cheeks. She clutched a hand to her throat. “Oh Lord, what have we done? Are you one of the McLintock boys?” She gulped. “I mean, men?”
He nodded. “He told you about us?”
“How down-and-out you were, and how he helped your whole family get back on your feet.”
Luke felt his neck flush with shame. Daniel probably made himself sound like a hero. He hadn’t helped all of them. Luke’s brothers were shipped off to another neighbor. But because Luke was only six, the youngest, he’d stayed with his ma. Scrubbing and cleaning and picking up after all the Kincaids. Wasn’t that why Daniel had nicknamed him “workin’ class boy”? Luke’s jaw stiffened at the memory.
“I’m sorry,” Jenny said, glancing down at her hands, “I didn’t mean to make you sound…down and desperate.”
He shrugged, pretending he didn’t care, and glanced at her friend. At least she was lowering the gun.
Jenny stumbled behind him and worked at the ropes. “I’m Jenny Eriksen, and this here’s Olivia Gibson, my dear friend and housekeeper. Sorry we had to resort to these tactics, but we’re alone and this town’s full of men who…”
The scent of her skin and faint perfume roused him. White powder floated onto his black denim pants. Powder?
“Sorry,” she said, “it’s my hair.” She nervously wiped the powder off his muscled thigh. With her warm touch, he felt an awakening right down to his boots. Blushing, she slid behind him again. Her hot fingers played along his cool wrists.
The ropes slackened as she continued talking. “No wonder you came to Daniel’s door. Who else would help you with your unfortunate injury but your best friend?”
Hah! His best friend was the one who’d shot him. An accident, yes, as Luke had struggled to grab the derringer from Daniel, but the recollection made his blood pound. Daniel had ordered him out of the office, shrieking at him to shut his mouth about the kid. After the bullet exploded, Luke’s fury could barely be contained. He’d raged out into the street, determined to wash his hands of Daniel forever. They hadn’t spoken for years, and why not keep it that way?
But once Luke had gotten back to the rail station, calmed down and bandaged his ribs, he’d realized he couldn’t walk away. Dammit, he couldn’t. If he did, what would happen to Adam?
Luke’s last promise to Adam’s mother, Maria, was that he’d do the proper thing for the boy. A man’s word was everything.
“There we go,” said Jenny. The knots released and Luke surged to his feet, the quick movement causing her to draw a sharp breath. He brushed against Jenny’s bare shoulder with his own naked one and tried to ignore the heat that trembled between them. Light-headed, he staggered back. He hadn’t lost that much blood, but due to the day’s chaotic events, he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. He rubbed his sore wrist, then held out a hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
She reached out and their hot palms met. His stomach shuddered with the contact. She was Daniel’s, Luke reminded himself. His jaw tensed. He cleared his throat, forced himself to drop her hand, and looked away.
He watched Olivia slide his gun back into its holster. First chance he got, he’d snatch it back. For some reason, a rock lay on the desktop, and she stared at it in a peculiar way.
“I suppose,” said Olivia, swinging around, “if you’re Daniel’s—” She lowered her lashes. “I mean if you’re Mr. Daniel’s friend, I should do my duty and put together a tray of refreshments. Looks like you could use a bite to eat.” The housekeeper eyed him like a cat eyeing a spider, and he twisted under the scrutiny. “Wait here, s’il vous plaît.”
“Much obliged.” When she disappeared behind the ornately carved door, he turned to Jenny. “You two speak French?”
The mountain of curls on her head jiggled. Jenny’s smile was slightly crooked, but somehow balanced her lopsided brow and single dimple, and held his attention more than it ought to. Altogether her face made a captivating composition.
“Olivia’s teaching me a few words. She lost her folks when she was a baby, and just discovered they came from New Orleans.” Walking to the desk, Jenny replaced the scissors. “Olivia’s become enamored with everything from Louisiana. The language, Creole cooking…”
He splayed a palm over his bandaged ribs and Jenny trailed off into a sudden, uncomfortable silence. She lowered her gaze to his chest, and he saw her swallow. He couldn’t help but lower his eyes to her bountiful assets. Her pin had come undone again, exposing creamy rounds. His heart thudded and he wondered if his wound was making him feverish, or the woman.
She flushed and snatched her dress closed. Her misty blue eyes flared. A gentleman would have looked away, her gaze seemed to accuse. Well, he sure as hell was no gentleman. But he did look away, scouring the room for his clothes while she adjusted hers.
His boots sank into the plush braided rug. He stepped to a leather wing chair and retrieved his bloodstained shirt. Pain jabbed his right side. He eyed the whiskey on the polished desk. “Mind if I take a drink?”
“Help yourself.”
It slid down his throat like fire. He took another, until the pain retreated and his thoughts spun.
How could he get Daniel to follow him to Cheyenne? Even if he didn’t want the boy, or stuck to his unlikely claim that Adam wasn’t his, Daniel should at least do the honorable thing and sign release papers so someone else could adopt the child. The last thing Maria Ramirez had done before diphtheria took hold of her was go to the town hall and register the boy’s legal father as Daniel. A month ago, after her death, the judge had told Luke nothing could be done for Adam until those release papers were signed or refuted by Daniel. If he’d only agree to see the boy…
Luke thrust an arm into his sleeve. Now suppose Jenny went to see the kid first, without Daniel…. Luke shook his head. No. Impossible. This was a delicate situation, and the last thing Luke wanted was to upset her. He needed her, the boy needed her, calm and rational and happily married to Daniel.
Happily married. Luke adjusted his collar. So Daniel was finally tying the knot. Well, good luck to him. Luke had never been tempted. Not with what he’d seen in his own family.
As he buttoned a cuff, Jenny leaned her supple body against the desk and tucked herself in her feather wrap. Peacock feathers and lavender corsets. What other surprises did she have under
