Jared's Runaway Woman

Jared pushed his empty plate away and Dixie caught his attention coming through the swinging door from the kitchen. But it wasn’t she who caused him to sit up in his chair. It was the woman he spotted behind her in the busy kitchen, elbow-deep in a tub of sudsy water.

The woman he’d seen across the street from the stage depot this afternoon.

Steam from the hot water made her face dewy. Tendrils of her dark hair curled around her cheeks. Her arms, exposed clear past her elbows, were smooth and a little pink as she washed dishes. Someone in the kitchen must have said something funny because she was laughing. Her face was lit up, glowing.

Jared wished he could hear her. He wished he was in the kitchen with her to listen to the melody of her voice, see her smile up close…see all of her up close.

Her bibbed apron outlined the swell of her breasts and the sash tied tight around her waist showed the flare of her hips. Sudden, strong desire claimed Jared, producing predictable results.

Dixie stepped in front of him, cutting off his view of the kitchen. She held a slice of berry pie in front of him.

“You look like a man who’d enjoy something hot and juicy,” she said, leaning toward him. “You interested?”

His desire cooled a little. He took the saucer from her hand. “This will do fine,” he told her.

She lingered just long enough to give him a knowing look, then disappeared into the kitchen again. Jared watched, catching another glimpse of the woman at the washtub as the door swung open, savoring the sight of her until it closed again.

Jared finished his pie and coffee and left money on the table. He held back the urge to leave a generous tip, as he usually did, not wanting to call attention to himself. Outside on the boardwalk, he drew in a breath of the cool night air. It was dark now; lanterns burning in the windows down Main Street provided faint light.

Things had picked up at the Wild Cat Saloon. Horses were tied to the hitching posts all along the street. Piano music flowed out along with the drone of voices. Jared considered going inside, having a beer, but decided to get the lay of the town instead.

He walked past the many businesses that lined Main Street, all closed for the night. Above them, on second floors, windows glowed with lantern light. Jared imagined weary merchants and their families having supper around a kitchen table, talking over their day, planning for tomorrow.

Across the street, the sheriff left the jailhouse. He was a big fellow with a pistol on each hip, carrying a sawed-off shotgun. A lot of firepower. Jared thought the lawman might need it. Every cowboy and miner he’d seen walk into the saloon tonight carried a gun.

He dropped his hand to the pistol on his hip. Maybe he’d hire a horse from the livery tomorrow and ride out of town a ways, find a spot to target practice. He wasn’t a stranger to guns, exactly, though he certainly didn’t carry one with him every day back in New York. He’d hunted for deer and wild turkey, on occasion. But he’d never fired a pistol, and he sure as hell had never shot at a human being.

At the edge of town Jared spotted a number of houses lining the street. Trees and picket fences, big porches with swings. Homes where families lived.

The thought of returning to his hotel room seemed less appealing by the minute.

By the time Jared ambled his way back down Main Street, loud, raucous laughter spilled out of the Wild Cat. He stopped across the street, but his gaze wandered down the block to the White Dove Café.

The restaurant was dark now. Had the woman he’d seen washing dishes finished her chores and gone home already? An odd feeling of loss came over Jared as he realized that, if he’d hung around, he could have seen her again.

At that instant a woman stepped out of the alley that ran next to the White Dove. Faint light caught her face.

It was her.

Jared’s breath caught and he took a step toward her just as gunshots rang out. From the corner of his eye he saw several men rush out of the saloon firing pistols.

Jared ran for the woman.

The gunfire registered in Kinsey’s mind just seconds before a man barreled at her from nowhere. He threw his arms around her and pulled her into the alley, pressing her back to the side of the restaurant. He held her tight against his chest, locked in his arms, shielding her, her nose buried against his throat.

Her mind raced. Was she being attacked? Or rescued?

She wasn’t going to linger to find out.

Kinsey struggled against the man but she was held prisoner, sandwiched between the wall of the restaurant and the man’s hard chest and encircling arms. She couldn’t get away, could barely move. All she could manage was to lean her head away far enough to look up at him.

Recognition stilled her. It was the man from the stage depot. The one who’d stolen her attention, made her heart beat fast. The one she’d thought so handsome. And now here he was, holding her.

He gazed down at her, still not releasing her from his firm grasp.

“There’s shooting down at the saloon,” he said softly. “I didn’t want you to get hit.”

Kinsey looked into his eyes, lost for a moment in the effects of the soft light from the street playing about his face. She saw the hard jut of his jaw, and his clean, cotton scent washed over her. Her heart banged harder now, but not from fear. It was from—well, she didn’t know what it was from.

Still holding her in his arms, the man touched his finger to her cheek, spreading a line of fire down her jaw.

“Are you…are you all right?” he asked.

No. No, she wasn’t all right. Her breasts were pressed against his hard chest, and his legs were brushing hers. He held her in a way that sent her heart racing.

“Yes…yes, I’m fine,” she managed to say. “Are you all—”

Jared kissed her. He couldn’t stop himself. As if some unknown force had claimed him, robbed him of his good sense and free will.

His mouth covered hers, soft and moist. Slowly he worked his lips over hers, blending them together.

But it wasn’t some unknown force making him do this, he realized, as a rational thought coasted through his mind. It was this woman. There was something about her….

Kinsey hung in his embrace for a stunned second, then rose on her toes and leaned her head back a little. He groaned and deepened their kiss until—

“What’s going on here?” a man demanded.

Kinsey gasped at the familiar voice. It was the sheriff.

The man whirled, keeping himself in front of Kinsey, shielding her. Humiliation burned in her. What in the world had she been doing?

She stepped from behind the stranger, anxious to put some distance between the two of them.

“It’s nothing, Sheriff Vaughn,” she said, and cringed inwardly at her own shaky voice. Kinsey pointed lamely down the street, realizing that all was quiet now. “The shooting at the Wild Cat…this—this gentleman was just protecting me.”

Sheriff Vaughn studied them for a moment, his gaze bouncing between the two of them.

“You all right?” he asked, his voice a little gentler.

“Yes, Sheriff, I’m fine.”

“Run on ahead,” he said, nodding in the direction of the boardinghouse. “I’ll catch up in a minute. See you safely home.”

Kinsey hurried away, thankful for the darkness that hid her hot cheeks.

Jared watched her go, heat still coursing through him. He couldn’t take his gaze off her, until from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the sheriff and the shotgun he pointed at Jared’s gut.

Sheriff Vaughn was a big man, probably not any older than Jared, but with a hard look and sturdy countenance that surely helped keep him alive in his chosen profession.

The sheriff asked his name and, after Jared provided it, asked, “Where are you from? What are you doing in Crystal Springs?”

“I’m from back east,” Jared said. “Here on business.”

The lawman still didn’t back off, which surprised Jared a little. Small towns like Crystal Springs went to great lengths to lure new business and usually went out of their way to accommodate newcomers. Apparently Sheriff Vaughn didn’t feel that way.

Or maybe he just didn’t like Jared.

“We watch after our women in this town,” Sheriff Vaughn said, hefting the shotgun a little higher. “Even the widows. So don’t go getting any ideas. Mrs. Templeton is well thought of around here.”

Jared’s heart lurched. “Templeton? Kinsey Templeton?”

The sheriff narrowed his gaze at him. “You best watch yourself, Mason. I’m keeping an eye on you.”

Jared stepped up onto the boardwalk as the sheriff strode away. Down the street he caught sight of a skirt swishing in the dim light.

Kinsey Templeton. The woman who’d stolen the first Mason grandchild. He’d found her.

Jared swore under his breath. He’d found his brother’s wife, all right.

And he’d kissed her.

Chapter Three

The towering shade trees that had once sheltered the church lay ahead and Kinsey was never more anxious in her life to get to Sunday service. She had more than her share of sins to atone for this morning.

Already a crowd had gathered. Folks huddled in small circles catching up on news, sharing concern about the sick and shut-ins in Crystal Springs. Children in their Sunday best tugged at their mothers’ hands, anxious to play with friends.

Sam did that now. Kinsey held tight, not wanting him to start roughhousing with the other boys and get dirty before services started.

The church had burned completely to the ground—thankfully no one had been injured—and everyone felt lucky that Reverend Battenfield had agreed to move to Crystal Springs to tend to their spiritual needs, especially under the circumstances. The reverend and his wife, an older couple, were a welcome addition to the town.

With the charred remains as a backdrop, the reverend preached his sermon every Sunday to the townsfolk whowere seated on makeshift benches some of the men in town had built. Kinsey suspected he hoped the difficult circumstances under which he ministered to his flock would be noticed and might loosen purse strings when the building-fund collection plate made its rounds.

Nell and Lily had left the boardinghouse well ahead of Kinsey and she saw them now talking with several other women. Usually, she would have joined them. But this morning Kinsey searched the crowd for someone else.

Sheriff Vaughn.

Embarrassment rose in Kinsey once more and she tried to fight it off so her cheeks wouldn’t turn red again. Good gracious, she’d been caught kissing a man in the alley. What must the sheriff think of her? He hadn’t mentioned it when he’d walked her to the boardinghouse last night, but what if he brought it up this morning? How would she possibly explain it to him?

When she didn’t even understand it herself.

Despite her best effort, Kinsey felt her cheeks grow warm. Because the truth was the stranger hadn’t just kissed her. She’d kissed him back. And her wanton actions hadn’t stopped there. She’d raised herself up on her toes—up on her toes. Leaned her head back so he could kiss her better.

How humiliating. How embarrassing. How could she have done that?

And what was this phantom warmth that lingered in the pit of her stomach hours later?

“Mama, can I go play?” Samasked, tugging on her arm.

Thankfully, reality pushed all thoughts of the stranger in the alley to the back of Kinsey’s mind as she turned her attention to her son. His hair was still damp, slicked into place from when she’d combed it earlier. He wore his Sunday best, dark trousers and the white shirt, that she’d helped him get into after she’d donned her own blue dress and bonnet.

“Can I, Mama? Can I?” he asked, tugging on her arms and hopping up and down.

She glanced across the crowded churchyard and saw several of the boys Sam went to school with playing together.

“All right, you can play for a while. But don’t get—”

Sam jerked away from her and raced toward his friends before she could remind him not to get dirty. As if he would have listened anyway, Kinsey thought with a faint smile.

Just then, Sam tripped on something and fell flat on his belly. A man stepped away from the group of men he’d been talking with and knelt down to help.

Kinsey headed over, not particularly concerned that Sam had hurt himself. He was a tough little fellow and had taken harder falls playing with the Gleason brothers in their backyard. She hadn’t heard him scream, either, the distinctive sound that determined whether a mother responded at a walk, or a dead run.

The man helped Sam to his feet and spoke to him, bringing Kinsey to a quick halt. It was the stranger, the man she’d kissed in the alley.

But he was more than that.

Kinsey saw the stranger and Sam in profile. Same chin. Same nose. Same black hair.

They both turned to her. Eyes and mouth. Nearly identical. Sam’s features were soft. The man’s were hard, straight, rugged. This was what her son would grow up to look like.

Kinsey’s blood ran cold.

Jared Mason had found her.

She charged across the churchyard, her search for the sheriff forgotten, as Jared got to his feet. She swept Sam into her arms. Startled, he let out a scream but Kinsey clamped him against her and dashed through the crowd. At the edge of the churchyard, she ran.

It had taken only a question or two to the men standing with him in the churchyard for Jared to learn where the woman who now called herself Kinsey Templeton lived. Luckily, the sheriff hadn’t been within earshot when Jared had asked his casual questions, and none of the other men noticed when he slipped away.

He’d seen Taylor’s Boardinghouse last night, he realized as he stopped in front of the big white-andgreen house with a front porch swing. Well-made, structurally sound. But was it a clean, decent place for Clark’s son to live?

Another swell of emotion overtook Jared. Clark’s son. He’d known the minute he laid eyes on the boy. He, like Jared, favored the Mason side of the family, though Clark had not.

Even if Jared hadn’t seen the family resemblance, the look on Kinsey Templeton’s face would have told him who the child was. Shock. Fear. And something else.

Courage, Jared realized. The courage of a mama bear come to do battle for her cub. Under other circumstances, Kinsey would have turned and run at the sight of Jared. But she’d charged in, taken her child. He’d seen the fierceness in her eyes.

Jared wondered for the first time since starting this journey what Kinsey Templeton might do to keep her son.

The front door of the boardinghouse was unlocked so Jared walked inside. The parlor was neat, nicely furnished with two settees, several chairs, bookcases and a piano. Off to the right, the large dining room table was backed by a china hutch, its beveled glass doors sparkling in the morning sunlight that beamed into the room.

The place was silent. Jared figured everyone was at church.

Everyone but Kinsey and Sam.

He glanced up the staircase, listened for a moment, then headed down the long hallway toward the back of the house. The men at church had told him Kinsey lived and worked here so he went into the kitchen and, sure enough, spotted her in a small bedroom.

Already she had a satchel sitting on the bed and drawers open in the bureau. Sam stared up at her, grass stain on his shirt, tears on his cheeks.

Jared crossed the kitchen and planted himself in the bedroom doorway. Kinsey whirled, saw him, stepped in front of Sam and pushed her chin up. They glared at each other for a few seconds, sizing each other up.

“You’re frightening the boy,” Jared said softly.

“Keep away from us.”

“You and I need to talk.”

Sam peeked around his mama’s skirt and Jared’s chest tightened. His brother’s child. The only thing left of him. And only one way—one easy way—to get him.

Jared took a step backwards. “Let the boy go outside and play. He doesn’t need to hear this.”

Kinsey didn’t move. Not an ounce of trust showed in her expression. Jared didn’t blame her. If he had a treasure like this, he’d protect it with his life, too.

“I’m just here to talk,” Jared said, holding out both palms.

He retreated to the other side of the kitchen, well away from the bedroom and the door that led outside. After a moment, Kinsey knelt and spoke softly to the boy. He sniffed and nodded. She pulled a handkerchief from her skirt pocket and wiped his eyes and nose, then lifted him into her arms and carried him to the back door. She stood there for a moment, the cool breeze blowing in, and eyed Jared hard. He backed up another step and she put the boy down, spoke to him again, then watched while he ran outside and pulled himself into the rope swing that hung from an oak tree in the backyard.

Kinsey pushed the door closed and turned to Jared, her hand behind her, still on the knob.

“You’re not taking him,” she said. “If that’s what you’re here for, you may as well leave right now.”

His gaze darted to the window. “That’s really him? That’s Clark’s son?”

She hadn’t expected to hear the softness in his voice, the sorrow and longing. With some effort, Kinsey hardened her heart again.

“You’re Jared, aren’t you?” she asked. “Clark spoke of you. I knew you’d be the one to come.”

His eyes cut toward her and Kinsey saw the hard edge, the toughness—both mental and physical—Clark had told her about. Jared, the oldest of the brothers. Biggest, smartest. The leader.

The only Mason tougher than Jared, Clark had said, was their mother. Kinsey knew that was true.

She knew, too, that she was cornered. Escape wasn’t possible, not at the moment, and she’d have to deal with this man.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking a little unsure of himself.

“About last night….” Jared cleared his throat. “I didn’t know that was you in the alley. I sawyou across the street from the stage depot and again working in the restaurant kitchen, but I didn’t know who you were. I wouldn’t have…kissed you, if I’d known. Sheriff told me afterwards.”

Heat rushed into her cheeks. Kinsey glanced away.

“It’s dangerous for you to be on the streets like that at night,” Jared said.

“Worried that somebody might grab me?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Like you did?”

His gaze hardened a bit. “I only meant to protect you when the shooting started at the saloon.”

Kinsey gestured toward his pistol. “I’m surprised you didn’t start shooting, too, like most men would have done.”

“Oh.” Jared looked down at the gun. “Well…”

“So I owe you my thanks,” Kinsey said. “For that.”

Jared walked to the window. Kinsey turned and they stood together watching Sam in the swing. Several long minutes crept by, the silence reminding Kinsey of exactly who this man beside her was, even if she had raised onto tiptoes to kiss him.

“He’s healthy?” Jared asked.

Kinsey nodded. “Smart, too. He’s in school. The schoolmarm was impressed that he can read already.”

“You taught him?”

“Sam’s got a quick mind,” Kinsey said. “Like Clark.”

She sawthe hard look on Jared’s face soften again, revealing the hurt and sorrow that he surely still felt for his brother, and that he probably preferred Kinsey didn’t see.

“His name is Samuel?” Jared asked.

“After your father,” Kinsey said. “Itwas Clark’s idea.”

Another quiet moment passed before Jared spoke again.

“We need to talk this out,” he said.

“No, we don’t. You need to leave.”

“I won’t do that.”

They squared off. Kinsey felt her anger rise. She saw Jared’s jawtighten, but he drewin a calming breath.

“I want both of you to come back to New York with me,” he said, “and live in our home.”

“We have a home.”

“Sam’s family is there.”

“I’m Sam’s family,” Kinsey said. “I’ve been taking care of him since the day he was born and I don’t need any—”

“You call this taking care of him?” Jared demanded, waving his arms. “Living in the back room of a boardinghouse? Working two jobs to scrape by?”

“I take excellent care of Sam!”

“How much money have you put away?” He edged closer. “What if he gets sick? Can you buy medicine? Pay a doctor?”

“I’ll find a way—”

“What about his future? His schooling? His education?”

“I can manage—”

“You’re robbing him of what’s rightfully his. Did you think about that?” Jared asked. “The boy’s entitled to Clark’s inheritance.”

“I don’t need—”

“The Mason family is one of the most powerful in the East,” Jared told her. “We’ve got money—lots of money. We’ve got political connections. Social position. We know important people in high places who can get things done. All of that is Sam’s birthright. He’ll have everything he could ever need.”

“I don’t want that sort of life for him,” Kinsey said.

“It’s too late for that,” Jared said. He jabbed his finger toward the window. “He’s a Mason.”

She shook her head frantically. “No.”

“And so are you.” Jared pointed at her now. “You can make up a new first name and call yourself Kinsey, and you can drop your married name and pretend you’re a Templeton again, but you’re still a Mason. Still my brother’s wife. Still a part of the Mason family.”

Kinsey gasped and pressed her lips together, forbidding herself to say another word. Jared glared down at her. She drew in a breath, forcing herself to stay calm, to think.

She lowered her lashes, then looked up at him again.

“You’re right, of course,” she said quietly. “I just need some time to think things over.”

Jared backed off a little and nodded. “Fine, then.”

Kinsey opened the back door and stepped outside, watching as Jared cast a last look at Sam in the swing, then headed toward town.

Her heart thundered in her chest and she wondered how she’d gotten so lucky.

Jared Mason didn’t know who she really was.

Chapter Four

No trains today.

Kinsey made her way down the boardwalk, her mind whirling. No trains expected through Crystal Springs until the end of the week. No stagecoach due for two more days. She’d committed the schedules to memory a long time ago. That’s how she knew there’d be no escape from the town—from Jared Mason—today.

When Nell and Lily had come home from church yesterday and inquired about her abrupt departure, Kinsey had calmed herself enough tomake a reasonable excuse that they hadn’t questioned. If her two friends noticed that she’d been on edge the whole evening or watched Sam in the backyard like a hawk, they hadn’t mentioned it.

No one had noticed the family resemblance between Sam and Jared Mason either, thank goodness. But why would they?

She hadn’t noticed it herself the first time she’d seen Jared, not even when he’d kissed her.

Kinsey had tossed and turned most of the night debating on what she should do, what she could do. Her first thought had been to run again but that wouldn’t be possible right now. A few other plans had bloomed in her mind as she’d lain awake staring at the ceiling, listening to Sam’s breathing from his little bed across the room. They were dangerous, foolish, probably even under ordinary circumstances.

But dealing with Jared would prove anything but ordinary, she knew.

Her saving grace was that, at the moment, he didn’t know who she really was. But if he ever checked deeper, if he ever found out…

Kinsey stepped off the boardwalk and hurried down the alley beside the White Dove Café. She averted her eyes, not wanting to look at the spot where she’d allowed the man who was trying to ruin her life to hold her and kiss her, but warmth flushed inside her just the same.

This morning she’d gotten Sam off to school and taken care of her share of the kitchen chores at the boardinghouse before heading into town. Because around dawn, it had occurred to her that before she worried herself silly and ran away from a town she truly liked, she ought to do a little checking of her own.