An Outlaw To Protect Her. Harper St. George
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Able.” Glory stood up and closed the distance between them. “What about Clara? She’s due to go into labor soon, and she’s on bedrest. She needs you around at night.”
“Labor isn’t likely for a few more weeks, according to the midwife.” Able shrugged. “I can ask one of the women to sleep over while I’m gone.”
Glory shook her head. “Whoever knows who I am, knows who you are too. What if they try to find you in your rooms, only to find Clara alone?”
Able frowned, the grooves on his forehead deepening. He ran a hand over his head, a tell that he was agitated.
Finally, after a tension-filled moment, Glory sighed. “It’s too much trouble for something that’s likely to amount to nothing more than you and Mr. Pierce being overprotective, but, in the interest of safety, we have no choice.” She looked over at Zane, giving him the distinct impression that he was her second choice for the task. “Thank you, Mr. Pierce, for your offer. It pains me to admit it, but I’d feel better having someone around. Just in case.”
Zane inclined his head and she gave him an impersonal smile as she retook her seat and focused her attention on Hunter. Hunter was smiling as if he’d enjoyed the little drama playing out before him. Zane sat down as they continued to discuss possible ways the account could be traced and took a moment to regather his composure. He was trying, but no matter how hard he thought of the possible danger ahead he couldn’t stop dwelling on the fact that he’d be spending an awful lot of time with her in the coming days. Time that he could use to figure out the enigma that was Glory Winters, and to try to get to the bottom of their connection.
Able moved around Glory’s desk, catching Zane’s eye. He jerked his head toward the window, indicating that Zane should come over so they could talk. Curious, Zane rose and tried to seem casual so he wouldn’t draw Glory’s attention since Able seemed to want to keep this encounter private. Crossing his arms over his chest, Zane stared at the dark windows of the general store down the street. All the buildings in this area of town were humble and modest, except for Victoria House.
“I know what you’re doing,” Able said, he stood so close that Zane could smell peppermint on his breath.
“And what is that?” Zane asked without looking at him.
“I’ve seen the way you look at her.”
Zane couldn’t stop himself from glancing at the older man to see if that was jealousy in his voice. He’d always assumed that the relationship between Glory and Able was more of a familial connection. No, not jealousy. Concern and protectiveness were shining in Able’s eyes. “And?” He couldn’t help but prod.
“And she’s not here for your amusement. Don’t think you’re the first one to come in here and leave a besotted fool. I’ve been told about the betting book at the gentleman’s club across town.” Able sneered as he said the term gentleman as if the word couldn’t be further from the truth. Zane had to concede the man was right. He’d been in Helena a handful of times and never come across an actual gentleman, despite the fancy clothes some of the men wore.
The book Able referred to was notorious for having outrageous bets. They ranged in scope from the size of a heifer’s first calf to the price of gold at some specified date in the future to the color of a particular lady’s undergarments. Zane had heard of the particular bet Able referred to. A few fine upstanding men of Helena had wagered on which one of them would be the first to bed Glory. He didn’t doubt it was real. Anger burned in his belly as he thought of them betting on her. “Let me ask you something, Able... You ever seen that book yourself?”
Able gave him a stony look. Zane held his hand up against the window. Dim light streamed in from the street, backlighting his hand so that his skin appeared very dark, though not as dark as Able’s. Neither of them would be welcomed in that particular club. “I don’t have a bet in that book.”
“You don’t have to have a bet in that book to see her as a challenge,” Able countered.
“I’ve known her for years and I’ve never once been disrespectful to her. Why would I start now?”
“Like I said, I see how you look at her and I can guess your thoughts. Keep your hands to yourself and we won’t have any problems.” With those words, Able walked away to rejoin Hunter and Glory’s conversation.
Zane stayed at the window, trying to get his racing heart under control. He wanted to tell Able that it wasn’t like that, but it would be a lie. He wanted to bed her just as badly as any of those other men. As he stood there, seething from Able’s rebuke, he was having a hard time figuring out what exactly separated him from those other men. He couldn’t have anything with her aside from a quick tumble in bed.
He was an outlaw. While the gang would likely disperse because they’d found the enemy who’d brought them all together to start with and Castillo and Hunter were both recently married, it didn’t change the fact that Zane was still a wanted man. While it was unlikely he’d be tracked down all the way to Helena, it was always possible. He had nothing to offer her.
Aside from that, loving Christine had taught him a harsh lesson that he would never forget. There wasn’t enough love in the world to keep a person from betraying another. Eventually love ran out, or something more important came along. He didn’t want any sort of relationship that involved anything more than physical pleasure. Once had been enough. It wasn’t worth the eventual pain.
So no, he couldn’t offer her more than any of those men planned to offer her. But he could respect her. None of those gentlemen would give her that. It wasn’t much, but it was enough of a distinction that he felt a little better. He would keep his hands to himself, but only if she wanted him to. It would always be her choice, and if she chose to spend a night or two with him, then Able would have to accept that.
Glory didn’t know how it had happened, but she’d somehow reverted to the role of thirteen-year-old schoolgirl. Zane stood across the room, leaning against the window molding as he watched her. Hunter and Able had just left, so they were very much alone. Butterflies fluttered in her belly, and her hand went to her stomach to calm the wild beatings of their wings. He wasn’t moving, wasn’t talking, wasn’t doing anything but looking at her, and she couldn’t seem to keep hold of the thoughts wandering around her head.
Gripping the solid edges of her desk, she tried to keep her hold on reality. This was still her home and she was still in charge. “Thank you for staying,” she said, doing her best not to look directly at him. Her hands as flighty as her thoughts, she shuffled some papers around on her desk until they were all precisely lined up.
Zane took his time walking back over to the chair across from her. The man moved as if he wasn’t well over two hundred pounds. He was all sinew and strength, but without the lumbering that sometimes came with that muscle. “Can I see the letter for myself?” he asked when he’d taken a seat in the wingback chair across from her.
She nodded and handed it over without touching him. If he thought her behavior odd, he didn’t mention it as his gaze skimmed over the letter. She couldn’t help but watch him as he did so. He wasn’t classically handsome like Hunter, but his ruggedness and quiet intensity, combined with his even features, somehow made him even more attractive. At least to her. She’d never cared for the look of a polished gentleman. She’d had that before and knew the treachery often hidden in the perfect package.
Zane was real. Her gaze touched the high arch of his cheekbones, the tiny lines around his eyes, and the strong line of his jaw. For the first time she wondered how old he was. He didn’t have the deeper lines that came with age, but his eyes seemed intelligent in a way that made her think he’d seen a lot in his life. She respected that. Most of the men who came into Victoria House had struck it rich because they’d gotten lucky with a claim to a mine. They thought luck and money somehow translated to being clever and knowledgeable.