sir.”
Alex smiled up at the cowboy, and William saw the precise moment when the fight in Jake Malone turned to flight. His eyes lingered a moment too long on her face. His mouth softened, and in his old bones William felt the young man’s longing for something pure and good.
Glancing at Charlie, the cowboy almost smiled, but instead he tipped his hat to Alex. “Miss Merritt, I wish you all the best.”
Turning on his heels, he walked way.
Alex shot after him and tugged on his sleeve. “Jake! Wait! You can’t just leave. At least stay for supper.”
Malone didn’t stop walking, and William didn’t know whether to respect him for wanting to protect Alex from the likes of himself, or if he despised the man for a lack of courage.
Either way, there was hope for Jake Malone, and once the cowboy found that out for himself he’d beat all hell out of Thomas Hunnicutt as a son-in-law. He knew where the young man was headed, and he wasn’t going anywhere as long as William had anything to say about it.
“I’ve got a bottle of twenty-year-old whiskey with your name on it, son.”
The cowboy stopped dead in his tracks. Dust billowed at Alexandra’s feet, and William prayed he hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of his life.
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