Page 19 of A Dangerous Heart
“How long have you been stepping in and taking the blows for him?” His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent ofsomething—anger, maybe at himself for not being quick enough to stop her, or just at seeing Clare hurt.
Clare didn’t want him asking questions about the boys’ father. She’d prefer not to lie to him.Lying just leads to more lies, Anne would always say.
“Are we getting to know each other better now?” She tipped her chin up in challenge. “Because if we are, I have a question of my own I’d like answered. Why don’t you carry even one pistol? And why did you leave the U.S. Marshals?”
She stared him down.
A muscle jumped in his cheek.
“Is it because you can’t shoot?”
His eyes flashed like he was surprised, or angry that she’d said it aloud. His mouth opened, ready to snap back, but she cut him off. “I won’t tell anyone.”
She didn’t have time to register the flare of emotion that passed behind his eyes before a voice called his name.
“Isaac! I need you.”
Drew’s angry strides hammered the boardwalk. His normally tanned face was white with fury.
“Quade’s hired some men from out of town to reroute the river.”
Chapter 5
“It’s crowded in there,” a boy’s voice said.
For a brief second, the door behind Isaac opened wider, and the clink of dishes, along with Nick’s soft baritone and Tillie’s little-girl giggle, escaped onto the small stoop. The door closed and the quiet returned. But he wasn’t alone. Isaac’s shoulders tensed. He’d come out here to be by himself. Plunked himself down on the wooden porch steps, with his plate of biscuits and gravy balanced on his knees, to let his eyes roam the paddock and drift to the mountains beyond and breathe in the crisp early-autumn air.
Light steps approached him. He caught Eli’s worn boot out of the corner of his eye. The kid needed new boots.
Not his problem.
Eli parked himself next to Isaac on the step and placed his elbows on his knees. He held a biscuit in each hand.
Doggone it.
“How come you sleep in the bunkhouse?” Eli said around a bite of biscuit. “Don’t you got a house of your own?”
Isaac ignored the curious question and shoveled another fork full of biscuits and gravy into his mouth, letting his gaze drift to Bullet, loping toward the corral fence. He should saddle up rightnow, ride on out to his cabin. With roundup behind them, the cattle they’d culled all sold, and most of the hard work at the main house done for now, he could head out.
It had been late last night when the family had arrived home from town. Isaac had expected Drew would want to talk Quade business as soon as the kids had cleared out. Drew had been in such a hurry to get home last night that no one had said a word about Clare and the boys riding home too.
Clare’s words from that first day echoed in his ears.There’s nowhere to go back to.
Not his problem.
Eli examined him watchfully, flight-ready, the way boys did when they’d endured the company of mean and unpredictable men. Cody had never worn that look. Cody had trusted Isaac from the start.
Isaac swallowed hard, forcing down both biscuits and the bitter taste of regret. Cody had paid the ultimate price for it. His throat tightened.
Eli was oblivious to his inner turmoil.
“David said you’re the fastest draw in three counties, maybe even the whole state.” Eli barely paused when Isaac didn’t answer. “My pa said Gideon Blake is the fastest in the West. Said he saw him once in Dodge City. I’d sure like to see you shoot. Maybe you could teach me?”
Isaac cast him a sideways glance and caught the challenge in the boy’s face before the kid shoved the last of one biscuit in his mouth.
“Prob’ly not true anyways. Never seen you wear pistols,” Eli muttered.
Isaac swiped the biscuit off his plate and took a bite, chewing slowly, ignoring the kid’s taunt.
