The Widow's Secret Page 3

  He quickly stood and held out a hand to help her out, and as she let him assist her, he slid an arm around her waist, lifting her out until her feet touched the ground. Heavens, he was too close... and why had she let him put his hands on her like that again... and why was she staring at his face as though she’d never seen anything so incredibly handsome in her life?

  “Mr. Logan,” she said in a low voice that almost sounded like a sigh.

  “Chet.”

  She nodded. “Yes, I mean... Thank you, Chet. However, I can climb out by myself.”

  He shrugged. “I was right here, and I would have felt guilty for letting you do it on your own without my help. My pa taught me to treat women like a fine piece of glass, because they have hearts that break easily.”

  She wasn’t sure if he was being humorous or not, but she couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yes, and I’d heard that most men don’t have hearts at all.”

  “Only the best of us do.” He winked.

  Her heart fluttered. She really needed to stop acting this way around him. She also needed to find the strength to push his arm away from her waist. “I’m happy to know that.”

  Finally, his arm dropped and she stepped back. Her erratic breathing needed to calm down before Chet noticed. She didn’t want him to know how his nearness affected her.

  “I heard you singing to the girl.”

  Inwardly, she groaned, preparing for his insults. At the orphanage when the boys heard her sing – or when she grew older and the men heard her sing – they always ridiculed her voice. She tried not to let it bother her, but it had.

  “You have a voice like an angel,” he said softly.

  Her thoughts tripped, and she narrowed her gaze on him. Had she heard correctly? That didn’t sound like an insult at all. “Pardon me?”

  “I hope you don’t mind me commenting on your singing voice. When I heard you singing to the girl, I remembered when I was young. My mother used to sing to me and my siblings when we were ill. I believe her remedy for curing our illness was much more effective than what the doctors could do.”

  Her heart softened once more. If he kept saying things like that to her, she’d make sure she was back in his arms again. And that she could never do again! It wouldn’t be wise for him to find out what kind of woman she really was.

  FOUR

  Chet couldn’t sleep for two reasons. One, that he had to listen in case their small camp was attacked by midnight bandits. He had also heard stories of camps being attacked and items were stolen, and women violated. Thankfully, he hadn’t heard of people dying, but there was always a first time.

  The second reason why he couldn’t sleep was because every time he closed his eyes, his memory replayed Amelia’s angelic voice and he imagined her beautiful face as she was singing. The questions that swam in his head kept him awake, too. Why would such a kind-hearted woman kidnap a child and murder her employer?

  During his life as a bounty hunter, he’d always known the person he hunted was a criminal. But now doubts swam in his head. Was Amelia really pretending or was she indeed, an evil person? What was the real story? Nothing made sense because a woman with a voice like hers who cared for a child that’s not her own couldn’t possibly be a criminal.

  He must get to know her better. If only Theo could talk, maybe that man would help Chet decide what he needed to know. Unfortunately, all he had was Amelia and her story. He also could ask Gracie, but she was only five and she probably didn’t know what really happened, either.

  Both he and Theo had their bedrolls under the wagon, but the older man was already asleep and snoring lightly. Maybe that was another reason Chet couldn’t sleep. He wasn’t used to anyone snoring around him.

  He rolled to his side and peered at the ground toward the fire pit. The fire had gone out, and the wind had picked up speed. Nothing that he couldn’t handle, but it made listening for people sneaking around camp a little harder. The clouds covered the moon most of the time, which made watching for something suspicious more difficult. Yet, for some reason, he heard every sigh Amelia made and every time she shifted in the wagon.

  He would never get any sleep now. He wasn’t sure what time it was, but it had to be way past midnight. Perhaps even three or four in the morning.

  The snapping of a stick brought his thoughts to a sudden halt. Then another stick snapped. Their intruder was either a large animal – or the two-legged type of animal with a gun. He wasn’t looking forward to going up against either one.

  Something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. There was movement by the fire pit. Men’s boots. But so far, he only noticed one man. The boots walked toward the horses that were tied up to the tree.

  Slowly, Chet slid his hand under his blanket and grasped his gun. If that man even tried to steal one of the horses, it would be the last bad decision the poor fool made. Chet would make sure of it.

  Trying to be quiet, he slid out of his bedroll and crawled out from under the wagon. As Chet kept his eyes on the horse thief, he stood and gripped his gun tighter. So far, the thief hadn’t looked back at the camp. Instead, he seemed preoccupied with trying to saddle one of the horses and keeping the animal quiet at the same time.

  Each step closer to the bandit, Chet’s heartbeat pounded faster. He was thankful that this man was working alone. Chet would definitely be able to handle taking down two men, but not anymore.

  Finally, he reached the bandit and cocked his gun. The thief froze.

  “Slowly put your hands in the air where I can see them,” Chet instructed. “I’m not about to let you steal from me.”

  The clouds still blocked most of the moon’s light, and with the man’s back toward Chet, he couldn’t quite see what the thief’s hands were doing. He gritted his teeth. If he had to get rough, he would.

  “Apparently, you don’t know how to follow instructions. Either that or you don’t speak English.” Chet had ruled out deafness since the man had heard the cock of the gun.

  “I’m unarmed,” the man said.

  Chet snorted a laugh. “And I’m the President of the United States.” He stepped closer, pressing the barrel of his gun into the man’s back. “Now lift your hands so I can see them.”

  At first, it appeared that he was raising his hands, only because his arms were lifting, but then he suddenly swung around. The rifle the man was holding knocked the gun out of Chet’s hand and it flew through the air and landed in the dirt. He cussed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to find it until the clouds moved away from the moon completely.

  Through the dim lighting, the man’s bushy beard and long, stringy hair were quite noticeable. The man’s tattered hat hung low on his forehead. There was no way to tell the man’s age, but with a rifle pointed at Chet’s face, it made him reluctant to tackle this man, regardless of his age.

  “All I’m after is a horse,” the thief said. “Since your camp has three, I’ll be taking one of them.”

  Chet shook his head. “I can’t let you do that.”

  “Really? Considering I’m the one holding the rifle and your weapon is somewhere on the ground, I don’t think you have room to argue.”

  Chet realized the man’s voice didn’t sound very old at all. In fact, the man could be in his thirties, which was around Chet’s age. He shook his head. “You’ve got to relax your weapon in order to saddle the horse.”

  “Not if I kill you.”

  The man lifted the gun higher toward Chet’s face. Holding his breath, his mind tried to figure a way out of this. Would the man tempt fate by shooting Chet and causing the others in the camp to hear and respond? And did the thief know how many others were in the camp?

  As the seconds ticked by, Chet realized the man wasn’t going to shoot. He was only threatening. At least for now.

  “If it’s money you want,” Chet began, but the man shook his head.

  “I just want a horse.” He motioned the rifle toward the wagon. “Now, unless you want me to blow a hole through your head, I suggest you mosey on back to your camp and leave me alone.”

  The clicking of another rifle ripped through the air, coming from the direction of the tree close behind the bandit. Chet swung his gaze toward the shadows but didn’t see anything. The thief’s body stiffened.

  “And unless you want me to blow a hole through your head,” came the sweetest voice Chet had ever heard, “I suggest you lower your rifle immediately because my finger is just itching to pull the trigger.”

  Finally, Chet noticed something in the shadows move. Wearing a long gray cloak, Amelia walked toward them, pointing a rifle at the thief. This time, the man didn’t have any problem lowering his weapon. Chet snatched it out of the man’s hands and pointed it toward the bandit.

  “Now hold up your hands so I can see them,” Chet instructed, and thankfully, the man complied. “Amelia, go to the wagon and bring me some rope so I can tie up this lowlife before he can do any more harm.”

  It didn’t take long before she was back with the rope and her rifle. After handing him the rope, she pointed her weapon at the stranger while Chet tied him to the tree. “You’re going to stay right here, and I’ll deal with you better in the morning when I can see you.”

  The man didn’t talk. Instead, he grumbled loudly.

  Chet moved next to Amelia and nodded. “He’s tied up now. He can’t hurt you or steal your horses.”

  “Thank you, Chet,” she said softly.

  He really wished he could see her face better, but her trembling voice let him know she was quite shaken up. He slid an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. She cuddled against him without any more encouragement.

  “You should go back to bed,” he told her, brushing his cheek against her soft hair as he inhaled her flowery scent. “I’ll keep watch tonight.”

  She nodded and tilted back her head. The position they were in was too personal, and her mouth was so close...

  Holding his breath, he didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to give her the wrong impression, and he especially didn’t want her knowing what was on his mind.

  “How...” He swallowed hard. “How did you know I was out here?”

  “I wasn’t sleeping well, and I heard you talking to him. I grabbed my rifle and came out to see if you needed any help.”

  He smiled and caressed her cheek. “If not for your help, the thief might have gotten away with one of our horses.” He chuckled. “I guess you didn’t need me along for protection after all.”

  “No, I need... um, I mean, we need your help. If you hadn’t been here, the bandit would have succeeded in stealing our horse.”

  The longer Chet stared into her shadowy face, the quicker his heart softened. He couldn’t allow that to happen. Of course, what he really wanted to do was wrap both arms around her and kiss her until the world stopped spinning, but that was definitely out of the question.

  Using all the strength he could find, he turned her toward the wagon, keeping his arm around her. “Come on, it’s time you get back.”

  She glanced over her shoulders at the bandit. “Do you think I should give him a blanket?”

  Shaking his head, Chet couldn’t understand why she was so kindhearted. She was the criminal... wasn’t she?

  “No, he won’t freeze. He’s wearing a coat. He’ll be fine for a few hours before the sun comes up.”

  “What are we going to do with him?” she asked.

  “We’ll take him to Spruce Hill and turn him over to the sheriff. That’s all we can do.”

  He stopped at the back of the wagon. She grasped the side but then paused. He waited for her to climb up so he could assist her, but she didn’t move. As the awkward silence passed, he wondered if he should say something to her. Perhaps she needed more but was frightened to say anything.

  “Amelia.” He caressed her long hair, loving how silky it felt against his fingers.

  In one quick movement, she spun around and kissed his cheek before climbing up into the wagon and lowering the flap. He was too stunned to think to help her. Not when the memory of her soft lips on his face and her warm breath on his skin would be branded in his mind for the rest of the night.

  Groaning, he rubbed his forehead. This wasn’t good at all. She definitely didn’t act like a normal criminal. She was too innocent, and not a calculating woman in the least. Starting tomorrow, he was going to ask questions. There was something about this case that wasn’t right, and he was going to figure it out... or die trying.

  FIVE

  Amelia tried to be brave the next morning, and although she wanted to make everyone think she was handling having a thief in their midst, inwardly, she was frightened to death. The man’s hair was too straggly, and his beard was too long and unkempt. His hat rode low on his forehead, which kept her from really seeing his eyes. Then again, maybe it was good that she couldn’t see his face because that would scare her even more. It was bad enough that she actually felt him watching her as she quickly prepared breakfast.

  Thankfully, Chet was with them, protecting them – and comforting her fears. She hadn’t trembled so much from fear since before she left the orphanage. Yet, having Chet’s arm around her last night as she pressed her face against his chest was more comforting than she had ever suspected.

  Gracie stood close to Amelia, clutching her dress like it was the little girl’s security blanket. Between Chet and Theo, they kept a close watch on the bandit. When Chet returned to the campfire, he gave Gracie a reassuring smile and patted her head.

  Amelia loved how attentive Chet was, not only to her but to Gracie. Indeed, he was their protector in all aspects of the word.

  “How are you doing?” Chet asked her, touching her arm.

  “I’m much better than I was last night.” She spoke in quiet tones, not wanting Gracie to know that she was scared, too.

  “When we head to Spruce Hill, I’ll keep his hands tied with the rope, and I’ll make the thief walk the rest of the way.”

  Frowning, she glanced at the tree where Theo stood, watching over the stranger. “Do you think he’ll be able to make it that far?”

  Chet chuckled as he squeezed her arm gently. “My dear Amelia, you forget that the man was on foot when I found him trying to steal our horse. I’m sure he’ll be just fine walking.”

  She laughed uncomfortably. “True.” She turned back to the oatmeal she was cooking over the fire. “Do you think I should give him something to eat to keep up his strength?”

  Chet’s calloused hand cupped her chin, turning her face toward his. Her pulse increased from his tender touch, but it was his mesmerizing gray eyes that made her knees weak. He had such a kind smile.

  “Amelia, I don’t think I’ve ever met a kinder woman. I haven’t been studying you for very long, but already I know that you put other people’s needs before your own.”

  Her face heated from his compliment, and although it was embarrassing to have a man say such kind words, she couldn’t look away. His gaze had captured hers.

  “I... I...” Her mouth grew dry and she swallowed hard. “I’ve never had anyone tell me that before.”

  His smile softened as he caressed her cheek lightly before dropping his hand. “Well, it’s the truth. You are indeed a kindhearted woman.”

  Tears burned her eyes, so she blinked to hold them back. “Thank you, Chet.”

  “And,” he moved a little closer, sliding his arm around her waist loosely, “I never did get the chance to thank you for helping me last night.”

  He must not realize what he did to her when he was touching her like this or gazing into her eyes with so much tenderness. She really should push him away and remind him that she really was a lady, and this type of affection was not allowed since they didn’t really know each other well. Unfortunately, once she stared into his eyes, she couldn’t move. She didn’t want to.

  “I... I don’t know what made me go out to help you.”

  “I’m sure you were inspired somehow. Maybe God was prompting you to assist me.”

  She nodded. “I would like to think that.”

  “But, the truth is you really saved me. I don’t know what he would have done, especially since I wasn’t ready to let him win.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “You would have fought him even if it meant getting shot?”

  He shrugged. “Yes, that’s just what I do. I’ve always been one for justice. If someone breaks the law, then they need to become accountable for their sins.”

  She chuckled lightly. “I feel the same way.”

  “Another thing I didn’t thank you for,” his voice lowered as his arms tightened around her, “was for that kiss on the cheek.” He winked. “Just that little token of your appreciation kept me from sleeping. Thoughts of you kept me awake.”

  Her mouth became dry again, and the rhythm of her heart was pounding so fast she half expected that she’d swoon any moment now. Once again, this position they were in was so improper, and why did he have to mention that moment of weakness when she kissed his cheek? Her face would burst into flames if it got any hotter.

  “Well, I...” She tried to swallow, but it was nearly impossible. “I was very grateful that you were safe and that you had the thief tied up to the tree.” She shrugged. “I didn’t know how else to thank you.”

  His gaze dropped to her mouth. “Tell me, Amelia... is kissing people your way of thanking them? Because if it is, I might just have to think of more ways to assist you just to receive your type of thanks.”

  Oh, heavens! Why was he doing this to her? He would certainly have to know the effect this conversation was having on her nerves. He wasn’t blind, and since his arms were around her, she was certain he knew how she practically leaned against him right now. And why was she also looking at his mouth wishing they were alone and that she was thanking him for doing something?

  “Mommy, I’m hungry.”

  Gracie’s whine and the tug of Amelia’s dress brought her out of her wicked thoughts. Finally, she found the strength she needed to pull away from the very handsome and charming man to look at the little girl. “It’s almost ready, my dear.”