Page 41 of A Secret Heart
His pulse quickened. She’d put herself in danger. This was what he’d warned her about a hundred times.
“Exactly why you should have taken me.” He leaned closer to his left side, where Rebekah walked, to speak the words through half-clenched teeth. All while smiling at the milliner as they passed her store. This couldn’t happen again.
“I think I know who it is—the bandit.” She gripped Ed’s arm as she whispered out the words in a hurry. “The man had a tattoo. I saw him on Quade’s ranch while we were there, doing the interview. Not his face, but I saw the tattoo. Did you see the man?”
“No.” He’d known it all along. This was proof Quade was in on it.
“If I print the story with the description of the tattoo, then someone will surely come forward to identify this man.”
“Did he see you?” When her brows crinkled in confusion, he went on. “The bandit. At Quade’s place.”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
Some of the tightness in his chest eased. Maybe things would be all right. Quade didn’t know that she’d put together the identity of his hired man.
“Let me give you a ride home,” he said.
She glanced at him, clearly confused by his suggestion. “I’m—it’s my day in town.” She gestured to the office. “Mr. Sullivan is counting on me to arrange the typeset and print the paper while he’s gone. His daughter is still ill. I have to do all I can to help keep the paper afloat. A big story means paper sales. And I still need to speak to Marshal O’Grady. I’ll have to write up a detailed description…”
“Rebekah, you can’t.” Desperation leaked out in his voice. She couldn’t be serious. Quade had no mercy. He’d almost killed Jo. Tillie.
This time, when her gaze met his, he saw the determination. Maybe even a hint of excitement shining in the depths of her eyes. “The truth needs to be printed. I have to, Ed, you know that.”
He didn’t know anything. He pulled her close, not caring that they were out in public, clearly visible on the boardwalk. Instinct told him to pull her closer.
Her lips parted, and he took his chance. He leaned all the way in and his lips were there, on hers. His hand clutched her shoulder as he pressed in. She responded to his kiss, and he let his grip loosen. His hands moved down her arm, relishing the softness of her hands as he clasped them. She smelled of honeysuckle and roses. His mind became shrouded in a fog of Rebekah. He didn’t want to pull back. How had he managed to be here to start with?
Breathing ragged, he pulled away far enough to get a look at her face. Her eyes were wide and searching. And then she lowered her eyes, her lashes hiding her from him.
I’ve explained everything in a letter to Isaac. Her words from the last time he’d seen her blasted him, making his face flame.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have done that.” He stepped back, releasing her hands. At his sides, his hands flexed. He wanted to reach for her again, search her face for an answer. If he’d ever wanted her to argue with him, this was it.
Rebekah never wavered. She always knew what she wanted.
One hand came up to brush her cheek. Her brows flickered low. “Ed, I?—”
Disappointment settled deep inside him. “I’ll come in to fetch you tomorrow.”
When she raised her chin, lips parted to protest, he shook his head tightly. “I have to keep my promise to your uncle.”
He turned away, walking toward the wagon without really seeing any of his surroundings. And she didn’t call him back.
Chapter12
The bell on the door jangled. Rebekah started, hand flying to her chest.
She’d been jumpier than usual. After going to see the marshal four days ago to report the man with the tattoo on his hand, she’d been warned by the marshal against printing any information in the newspaper, but not forbidden. With Mr. Sullivan out of town to visit his daughter, it’d seemed the perfect opportunity for Rebekah to print the news. News that might up the readership and save the paper. And hadn’t Mr. Sullivan taught her that the truth must be told?
Even now, the marshal and her deputies were busy searching for the criminal. The one who’d eluded them at every turn.
She closed her eyes tight, exhaled, then opened them as she spun to face the door.
“Everybody all right?” Mr. Lee handed over a stack of mail, a questioning expression on his face.
Rebekah offered a reassuring smile that all was well, even as sweat slicked her hands.
Mr. Lee tipped his hat, backing up to the door to let himself out.
