The Outlaw's Redemption

If a man recently out of prison knew about her connection to Mattie, it was only a matter of time before the rest of Denver discovered the truth. Everything would change then, just as it had a year ago, when Annabeth had been released from her position at Miss Lindsey’s Select School for Girls.

The good people of Denver would know her private shame. Then what? No godly, moral man would want Annabeth as his wife, not when her mother was the most celebrated madam in town. She didn’t care so much for herself; she’d given up hope for a respectable marriage at this point in her life. But Sarah. Poor, dear, beautiful Sarah.

“You may call me Annabeth.” She shifted from one foot to the other. “Annabeth Smith.”

“Smith.” The silky, ironic tone had a dangerous note underneath. “Not very inventive.”

Annabeth stared straight into Hunter’s glittering eyes. His expression had grown fierce, ruthless even. A man on a mission, determined to get answers by any means necessary.

She forced herself to think fast, to sort through every possible solution to the threat he presented to her and the child she loved as her own.

What if he wanted to take Sarah away?

A chill ran up her spine.

There had to be a way to forestall the inevitable. But Annabeth couldn’t make her mind work properly, not with Hunter’s gaze locked so securely with hers, waiting, measuring, gauging her every reaction.

He stood over six feet, all broad-shouldered and lean-hipped. And those eyes. Piercing, intense, full of suspicion.

His lips curved at an ironic angle. “Finished with your inspection?”

“I...” She jerked her chin at him. “Almost.”

For a split second, humor filled his gaze. Then he gave her a slow, mocking perusal of his own. “You are looking well, Miss...Smith.”

He was intentionally trying to throw her off balance. Sadly, he was succeeding.

If only he wasn’t so handsome, so masculine, so rugged, so...so...handsome.

“Thank you, Hunter.” She resisted touching her hair, smoothing down the riot of curls she’d not bothered to tame before leaving Charity House. Another mistake on her part. Her desperation had made her careless. All she could do now was grasp for some semblance of control. “You, too, are looking well.”

His big shoulders shifted, flexed and then went still. Dangerously still. She should take care. She knew what Hunter Mitchell was capable of doing when pushed. If even half the stories were to be believed, the man was deadly. Yet beneath the day-old stubble, his chiseled features looked entirely too wholesome for a man who had spent two years in prison for manslaughter.

Could he be trusted?

Was his life of sin behind him?

So many unknowns. Too many to allow her guard to slip.

Why, oh why, had Mattie followed through with her threat to contact him? Why had she ignored Annabeth’s pleas to stay out of the matter?

Her mother would answer for her interference. Later.

For now, Annabeth had a very determined man to appease. No matter what happened next, he could not be allowed to take Sarah away with him.

He’s her father. The thought whispered through Annabeth’s head, filling her with renewed guilt. She’d come here tonight determined to do whatever it took to hide his child from him.

What did that say about her?

That she was cautious? Protective? Or simply selfish?

Silence grew thick in the room, making the air feel heavy, stifling. Even Mattie seemed to be rendered momentarily speechless, her gaze darting between Annabeth and Hunter.

More seconds ticked by. And still, Annabeth couldn’t stop looking into Hunter’s mesmerizing eyes. The impact of all that concentration directed solely on her was like a physical blow. And not entirely unpleasant.

For a brief moment, he looked as agonized as she felt. She wanted to soothe his anguish, to offer him comfort, to—

What was wrong with her?

Hunter was an unsafe man, one who knew her secret.

He could ruin everything she’d built in the past year.

“It’s been a while since we last met,” he said, breaking the silence with his deep, velvety voice.

She nodded. “At least eight years.”

Mattie sprang back to attention, snapping her head from one to the other. “You two have met before?”

“Yes, Mattie.” A slow smile spread across Hunter’s mouth, making him far too appealing. “I am acquainted with your daughter.”

“But...” Mattie released a hiss, the sound equal parts hostility and warning. “That’s impossible.”

Annabeth understood her mother’s shock. Through the years, Mattie had shielded her from men like Hunter.

“How...how did you two meet?” Mattie didn’t bother hiding her horror at such a prospect, or her outrage. “Where? When? I demand to know every detail.”

A sigh leaked out of Annabeth. “Does it matter now?”

“Yes.” That one word, spoken through clenched teeth, said so much. “It matters a great deal, Annabeth.”

She supposed so, at least from Mattie’s perspective. Her mother had worked very hard to protect Annabeth, sending her far away to school where she could learn the precepts of Christian charity and proper behavior. No drinking allowed. No gambling. And definitely no friendly acquaintances with gunslingers recently released from prison.

Bad character corrupts good morals.

A noble ideal, to be sure, straight from the Bible.

But life at Miss Lindsey’s had proved just as hazardous as the one Annabeth would have had in Denver, the people just as unforgiving once the truth had come out about her mother. She’d been guilty by association. Her dream of respectability gone, gone, gone. Her reputation not quite in tatters, but close enough to warrant leaving Boston for good.

“Annabeth.” Mattie crossed her arms over her chest and glared. “I am waiting for an answer. Where did you meet this man?”

Despite the tension of the moment, Annabeth had to fight back a smile. Now he was this man.

Oh, the irony. Hunter Mitchell wouldn’t even be in this room if Mattie hadn’t contacted him.

Annabeth cast a quick glance in his direction. The expression in his eyes was kind now, encouraging, reminding her of the first time they’d met. She’d been more than a little dazzled by the attractive, broad-shouldered rancher her sister had married so impetuously. He’d been twenty-one at the time, more man than boy, full of charm and humor and determined to save Maria from herself.

Much had changed since then. Everything had changed.

“Annabeth. Stop staring at the man this very instant, and answer my question.”

She sighed again. “We’ve met twice before tonight. The first time, a few days after he married Maria.” He’d taken them shopping and had been so patient, so generous, even to her. “We met again at Maria’s funeral.”

“Her funeral?” Mattie’s stunned expression precipitated her sinking into a nearby chair. “I forbade you to go.”

Annabeth remembered the day well. She’d been fifteen at the time, home from school on holiday, and saddened over her sister’s death, a sister she’d hardly known, who’d been born the daughter of Mattie’s bitter rival, Emma Bradley. Her mother had been adamant Annabeth stay away from the funeral.

She’d gone, anyway.

“Maria deserved to have family present.”

She’d been glad she’d gone, too. Only one other person had attended the funeral besides Annabeth. Maria’s estranged husband, Hunter.

“Family?” Mattie spat out the word in derision. “She was that horrible woman’s daughter.”

“She was my sister.”

“Your half sister. She had no relation to me.”

“Regardless, Maria was always good to me,” Annabeth defended. “She was my blood kin. I loved her and she loved me.” Turning to look at Hunter, she added, “She loved you, too.”

He showed no reaction to the declaration, other than a careful narrowing of his eyes. “Did you know about the child when we met at the funeral?”

The question brought them back to the real issue at hand. Hunter might have been kind to her, once, long ago, when they were both much younger. But she knew what sort of man he’d become since then. Lawless, tough, a member of a ruthless gang.

Tread carefully, Annabeth.

“No, I didn’t know about Sarah at the time,” she answered truthfully. “Maria kept her existence a secret from me, too.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

So had Annabeth. She’d been terribly hurt when she’d discovered the truth. But that hadn’t stopped her from building a life with Sarah once she’d discovered her niece’s existence. A safe, respectable existence now threatened by this man’s inopportune arrival.

How had matters gotten so quickly out of hand?

“Who knows what was in Maria’s head at the time of her death.” Annabeth closed her eyes against the image of the last time she’d seen her sister alive. Her beauty gone, the sunken cheeks and eyes, the despair. “She was sick, Hunter, and delirious most of the time in her final days.”

“Yet she was lucid enough to send the child to Charity House instead of telling me about her.” Hunter’s voice cut through the room like a dagger. “I wonder why.”

Didn’t he know? “She was protecting Sarah, from you.”

“From me.” He spoke softly, his amber eyes lit with raw emotion.

“By the time she became ill you weren’t exactly a model of good behavior.”

“True.”

Annabeth sighed at the regret in his voice, and the remorse. Such remorse. Had he changed?

Dare she hope?

“I understand why Maria didn’t tell me about the child, but why didn’t she tell you?”

Annabeth lifted a shoulder. “Perhaps she was protecting Sarah from me, too.”

“You? No.” He shook his head. “I don’t believe that.”

“What could I have done for her at the time? I was a child myself, spoiled and selfish and—”

“I don’t remember you that way.”

He didn’t? How did he remember her? Had he thought of her through the years like she’d thought of him? Did he...

No. Oh, no. She could not let down her guard like this. “I was certainly too young to raise a child by myself.”

“Perhaps.” He fell silent then.

So did Annabeth.

Mattie eyed them both, gave a little sigh, then entered the conversational void with gusto. “Hunter, you must know it’s not too late to change the situation. You can retrieve your daughter from Charity House and start fresh. You can—”

He raised a hand to silence her. “Stay out of this, Mattie.”

She scowled. “I’m only trying to help.”

“Yes, yes.” He tossed a dismissive flick of his fingers in her direction. “Now hush. I need a moment to think.”

“Of course.” Mattie pressed her lips tightly together and, surprisingly, didn’t speak again.

The groove between Hunter’s eyes dug deep, his mind clearly working through the various revelations of the past few moments.

Maybe, when he thought the matter through to the end, he wouldn’t want the responsibility of a child.

Oh, Lord, please. Let him walk away tonight.

Spearing his fingers through his hair, Hunter paced the room with hard, clipped steps. Back and forth he went, moving with the lethal grace of a large, menacing cat. Every few steps his hands clenched into fists, as though he were trying to control his pent-up emotions.

Understandable.

While he continued walking off his thoughts, Annabeth followed his progress with her eyes.

He’d changed since she’d seen him last and none of the changes were for the worse. His lean, long-legged body had filled out with the muscles of a man used to physical labor. His skin was a little weathered, and his hair had darkened to a rich, sandy-blond, the tips burnished by the sun.

He was dressed in stark black from head to toe. And even without a pair of six-shooters strapped to his hips, he had the swagger of a gunslinger. His square jaw, defined features and the shadow of a beard made him look threatening.

A formidable foe under any circumstance.

Her rebel heart found that bit of insight beyond exciting. Not that she’d actually choose to pursue a relationship with a man like him, but she could certainly allow her mind to...wonder. Perhaps she had a little more of her mother in her than she cared to admit.

A hideous discovery that couldn’t possibly be true.

Unused to giving up control of a situation for long, Mattie rose from her chair and stepped into Hunter’s direct path. “Yes, well, facts are facts. You have a daughter. You must take on the responsibility of raising her and—”

“No.” Annabeth rushed forward, moving in front of her mother, fighting desperately for the right words to steer Hunter away from what Mattie suggested. “You can’t just show up and claim Sarah as your child. She doesn’t even know you.”

“An oversight I plan to rectify immediately.”

“But—” Think, Annabeth, think. “She’s happy at Charity House. It’s the only home she’s ever known. She has friends there, people who love her, people who care for her.”

“People like you?”

“Yes. People like me. Please, Hunter.” She reached for his arm, then pulled her hand back before making contact. “Think this through. Now is not the time for hasty decisions.”

“No. It’s not.” He looked torn, confused and maybe—dare she hope?—ready to concede.

Could it be this easy?

Annabeth pressed her advantage. “What can a man like you offer a nine-year-old little girl?”

“Family,” he whispered after a long pause. “I can give her a real family.”

Of course.

Of course.

Annabeth shut her eyes against a surge of panic. She’d forgotten who this man really was, and where he came from.

Regardless of his lawless ways and time spent in prison, Hunter was a member of a prosperous ranching family that included both parents, loads of brothers and sisters and a former U.S. marshal thrown in for good measure. The Mitchells personified respectability and, better yet, were a close-knit group. They would welcome Sarah into their midst without question. And love her unconditionally.

An ideal solution from any angle.

Unless, of course, Hunter chose not to return to his family’s ranch. Unless he took Sarah to some unknown destination, to live among unknown people.

Annabeth couldn’t take that risk. “You don’t even know she’s yours.”

She was grasping for any argument now. She knew that, felt the shame of it. But Sarah’s future was at stake. And Annabeth was desperate to protect her niece as best she could. She owed that much to the sister she’d lost before truly knowing her.

“Not mine? That’s easy enough to determine.” He pushed past her and headed toward the exit, seemingly convinced one look at Sarah would settle the matter.

Which, of course, it would.

“Wait. Just wait.” She caught his arm and was stunned at the strength of the hard muscles beneath her fingertips, like a rock, solid and unyielding.

“Let go, Annabeth.”

She released him at once. “You can’t possibly think to see her tonight.”

Brows lifted, voice low and rough, he said, “Because?”

She really had to spell it out? That alone proved how ill prepared he was to take care of Sarah on his own. “Because it’s nearly midnight.” She swept her hand toward the clock on the mantelpiece to make her point. “She’s been asleep for hours.”

“Asleep for hours.” He cracked a smile, as if amused by his mistake. Glory. Annabeth couldn’t deny the man was devastatingly attractive when he smiled like that.

She almost sighed. Almost. There was too much at stake to show weakness now.

“Oh, honestly, you two are acting worse than children. Step aside, Hunter.”

His big shoulders shifted and then Mattie appeared from behind him. When Hunter didn’t move completely out of her way she shoved and pushed for position. Satisfied at last, she slapped her hands on her hips and scowled at them both.

“You—” she pointed her finger at Annabeth “—will not stand in this man’s way.”

Annabeth opened her mouth to argue, but Mattie had already spun around to face Hunter. “And you—” she poked him in the chest “—will wait until morning to go to Charity House. It’s the polite thing to do.”

“You’re right.” He conceded quickly, graciously. “I will follow your advice and wait until tomorrow to meet my daughter.”

A momentary glimmer of pleasure flashed in his eyes, sending another burst of panic through Annabeth.

What if he wanted to do right by Sarah? Could she stop him? Should she stop him?

He represented everything she distrusted in a man. He was a former outlaw, a gunslinger, and had spent two years in prison for killing a man. By no stretch of the imagination could he be considered respectable.

Then again, he’d served his sentence. Didn’t that mean he deserved a second chance? How could Annabeth claim to be a Christian and not wish for Hunter to have a fresh start?

She studied his face, searching his gaze for something that would ease her mind.

He looked tired, ready to drop on his feet.

Clearly, he needed rest. And maybe someone to care, someone to understand what he’d endured these past two years. No condemnation. No judgment.

A portion of her trepidation subsided, replaced with something softer and far more complicated. Perhaps Hunter would turn out to be a decent man, after all. Wasn’t that more important than something as tenuous as respectability?

His appearance in their lives might be a good thing.

Faith. Annabeth just needed to have faith that all would turn out well.

“You will stay here, tonight, Hunter, free of charge. I’ll accept no argument on the matter.” Mattie pulled him toward the door leading into her brothel. “We’ll set you up with a hot bath first. Then I’ll send one of my girls to—”

“No.” His refusal was immediate, too immediate to be questioned. “I appreciate the offer, Mattie.” He smiled down at her, even as he extricated himself from her hold. “But I’ll find my own accommodations for the evening.”

“If you change your mind—”

“I won’t.” He inclined his head. “Thank you for telling me about my daughter.”

“How could I not?” Mattie’s gaze traveled to Annabeth and stuck. “It was the right thing to do.”

Annabeth swallowed back a retort. They both knew Mattie hadn’t written Hunter out of the goodness of her heart. She’d done so to protect Annabeth, unwittingly endangering Sarah in the process.

How could Mattie have been so shortsighted? So reckless?

They didn’t know Hunter Mitchell, not really. He could turn out to be a hard, cruel man bent on destroying himself and those around him.

The responsibility of protecting her niece had never felt so heavy. Whatever it took, no matter what she had to do, Annabeth would protect Sarah. Even if that meant keeping the child from her own father.

Chapter Three

Hunter watched the steady stream of emotions advance across Annabeth’s expressive face. He was able to track her thoughts easily enough. She didn’t trust him to take care of his own daughter. Not that he blamed her. He wasn’t sure he trusted himself.

How many times had he almost broken free of his past, only to be dragged back, sometimes willingly, sometimes not?

This time would be different.

Because this time he wanted something new, something within reach, something he’d never really wanted before—stability. Not only for himself, but for his daughter, as well.

I have a daughter.

Tenderness filled him, followed by an unbearable churning of the most terrifying emotion of all. Hope. That dangerous, slippery belief that all would turn out well in the end.

Perhaps, for once, it would. Hunter simply had to believe. He had to do his part, then let go and trust the Lord with the details.

His biggest obstacle was blinking up at him with those large, round eyes. Annabeth’s gaze had turned a startling shade of lavender in the muted light and Hunter’s gut clenched with...what? What was this feeling? Anticipation? An awakening?

Something far less pure?

A distraction he didn’t need right now.

Ignoring her for the moment, he turned his attention on Mattie. She smiled up at him, the gesture full of warmth. Few people knew this softer side of Mattie Silks. He smiled back, grateful she’d taken the time to contact him. He knew she’d done so for her own purposes, but the result was the same.

Partially to see what she would do, and partially out of impulse, he yanked the ornery woman into a hug so tight her feet lifted off the floor.

“You rogue.” She twisted and tugged and came up sputtering. “Put me down this instant.”

Grinning at her reaction, he set her back on her feet. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Mattie.” He tapped her on the nose. “You may count on it.”

“Yes, yes.” Cheeks flushed, she dismissed him with a curt shake of her head. “Go on with you now.”

Satisfied in the knowledge that he’d finally found a way to disconcert the unflappable Mattie Silks, he gave her a formal bow. Politeness personified, with a hint of mockery around the edges.

The woman deserved to lose some of her prideful composure. She’d contacted him in a letter, with the shocking news he had a nine-year-old daughter, leaving him to wonder for a full month what to do with the information.

He still wasn’t sure.

What he did know was that Mattie had insinuated herself in the matter for a very personal reason. Her daughter, Annabeth. Sarah’s aunt.

Hunter turned his attention back to the girl.

No. Not a girl, he reminded himself, a full-grown woman, one with a delicate bone structure, soft curves and a rich, throaty voice. Something about her calmed his soul. Even Jane hadn’t been able to do that, not for want of trying.

Blinking at the betraying thought, he ran a hand over his face. He was bone-tired, and surely that explained the disturbing direction his mind had taken.

As if somehow sensing his agitation, Annabeth touched his arm. “Come, Hunter.” He felt himself relax beneath her soft voice. “Let me walk you out.”

When had she developed that confidence in her manner? The last time he’d seen her she’d barely looked him in the eye.

Now she held his gaze with conviction.

“All right,” he said, realizing she still had something to say to him, something she didn’t want her mother to hear.

Hunter found himself intrigued.

Walking into the hallway ahead of him, Annabeth stopped short and looked over her shoulder. “I’ll only be a moment,” she said to her mother. “When I return, we’ll...talk.”

“I’ll be right here, darling.” Mattie Silks in an accommodating mood?

Curious.

“This way, Hunter.” Without waiting to see if he followed, Annabeth headed out. She directed him along a narrow corridor, past a row of closed doors and out into the moonlit night.

He drew in a lungful of fresh air, looked to his right then to his left. They were standing on the deserted street directly behind the brothel. A sense of foreboding took hold. Again, he felt eyes on him as if someone was silently tracking him, biding their time before pouncing.

He’d made enemies, but most were either serving their own prison sentences, or too busy watching their own backs to come looking for him.

A low-level hum of chatter, music and laughter flowed from somewhere in the near distance, probably from one of saloons down the lane, or a rival brothel. Another quick check of the surrounding area and Hunter relaxed, slightly. Other than a stray dog pawing at the ground, they were completely alone. No one was waiting for him, nor were there prying eyes to misunderstand this late-night meeting.

Clearly, Annabeth didn’t want anyone to see them together. Not that Hunter could blame her. With a mother like Mattie Silks and an outlaw father known as one of the meanest cutthroats in the territory, the woman had a lot to hide from the world. Cavorting with an ex-convict, no matter the reason, wouldn’t do her reputation a lick of good.