K. Weiland - Storming

And no doubt that contract would have plenty of clever little clauses designed to keep Hitch firmly under Livingstone’s thumb. But that was a battle for another day. Lord knew, there’d certainly been enough battles for this one.

“Sure thing,” Hitch said.

He watched Livingstone go.

The Jenny was already packed, fueled, and ready to head out. But before he could leave town, the one thing he absolutely had to do was tell Jael about the pendant. She’d probably be mad about it, but at least that’d make the goodbye part easier.

He cleared his throat. “Reckon I’ll go say my goodbyes.”

When Earl didn’t respond, he glanced over.

Thanks to his own cast, Earl couldn’t cross his arms, but his whole posture sent out the same attitude of skepticism.

“You sure you’re up to flying?” Hitch asked.

“I’ll fly out of here with you. I always do, don’t I?”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You want to stay?”

“Didn’t say that.”

Hitch glared a little. “Then save both of us the time and just say what you do want to say.”

Earl shrugged. “Nothing to say.”

“Good.”

“Except—what you’re doing here is runnin’. You know that, right?”

Hitch stared at the party—at the happy swirl of simple country folks, dancing and singing and eating just because they had people to hold onto at the end of a fright.

“I know it,” he said and started walking.

He crossed the field and elbowed through the loud, swirling crowd. Every few steps, someone hallooed him and wanted to shake his hand and tell him what a brick he was and how the whole durn town was indebted to him. He smiled and nodded and pulled his hand free as quick as he could. Sure, tonight he was a hero. Tomorrow, he’d be the black sheep again.

He reached the dancing platform and scanned the couples waltzing to “Goodbye Girls I’m Through.” On the far side, Griff danced with Jael. He was smiling at her—about the first and only smile Hitch had seen on his face since coming home.

Hitch’s stomach jigged a little. If only …

So many if onlys .

He shoved aside the swirl of regret and crossed the platform to reach them.

Griff turned, and Jael came into view.

Somebody’d given her a dress, a sleeveless black lace affair that swirled below her knees. With her short hair crimped into waves, she looked as keen as any society belle—except still Jael. A society imp maybe.

No wonder Griff was smiling at her. And Hitch was leaving her, doggone it. He’d come to say goodbye, tell her he’d pawned her pendant to Campbell, and then take off. His stomach jigged again. What kind of an idiot was he anyway?

Jael saw him and started to smile. But then she faltered under his stare and blushed prettily.

He groaned on the inside. Criminy, but she wasn’t like any woman he’d ever known. Beautiful and brave, stubborn as all get out, and savvy right down to the ground in spite of her occasional naïveté. If he had half a brain, he would have seen that from the start. But no, he’d done everything he could to make sure he could leave her behind as easily as he left everything else.

Maybe he was losing his touch. Because this sure wasn’t feeling none too easy.

Griff looked over his shoulder. His gaze met Hitch’s, and his smile hardened to stone. He murmured something to Jael and inclined his head to her in half a gallant bow. Then he released her hand and left her to Hitch without a backwards glance. That much ran in the family, evidently.

Jael held out a hand. “Your brother is teaching me how you do this dance.”

Hitch came forward to take her hand in his and pull her to him. He cleared his throat. “Last I knew, Griff was the one who needed somebody teaching him.”

She floated in the circle of his arm, her steps light, if not quite correct. No wincing and no limping, just fluid grace with that vibrant energy that always seemed to be boiling right under the surface. She leaned her head back to smile up at him—and exposed that long, white sweep of her neck.

He cleared his throat again. “How’d Griff come to be here? I thought Campbell had everybody pulling guard duty tonight.”

She shrugged her bare shoulders. “He is pulling this duty. He is only taking what he is calling ‘break.’ Campbell and others are all with Schturming now.”

“Oh. Right.”

The music jingled along, and they danced a few more steps.

He should tell her. Do it and get it over with. The confession only got a little harder every moment they danced like this, with the lace under his hand shifting against the small of her back.

He opened his mouth. “I like the dress.”

She grinned. “It is belonging to Lilla. Nan did not approve.”

“Yeah, well, Nan wouldn’t.” His voice dropped a note or two, in spite of himself. “But I do.”

They danced on. His tongue forgot how to talk. He watched her, and she watched back.

Her smile faded. Her eyes deepened into that studying look once more, except this time she seemed to think she’d seen all there was to see.

Another if only .

The music stopped, and they stopped with it.

Now or never. He took a breath. “Look. There’s something I have to tell you. Come for a walk?”

He kept her hand in his and led her off the platform. They made their way back through the party, toward the Jenny. From the looks of it, Earl had gone off to say his own goodbyes.

Jael wrapped her fingers tight around his hand, like she didn’t want him to let go any more than he did.

What he wanted was to pull her into the shadows, take her by the shoulders, and kiss her like she’d never been kissed before and never was likely to be again. He clenched his teeth to keep back another groan.

Con_found_ it. He couldn’t possibly have been so stupid as to fall in love with her, could he? He knew better. He’d warned himself—Earl had warned him—the Berringers had warned him. Everybody had. Was he the only one who’d failed to realize how much he hadn’t had this thing under control?

But maybe that wasn’t all bad. Just because he had to go didn’t mean she couldn’t come too. Maybe she’d forgive him about the pendant. Her heart was big enough for it, Lord knew.

They reached the plane, and he did pull her into the shadows. But he didn’t take her by the shoulders, and he didn’t kiss her.

They stood in the darkness, facing each other. The silence grew.

He shifted his weight and opened his mouth.

She beat him to it. “Have you said any words to Walter?” Her voice was clear and level. If she was anywhere near as confused and upset as he was, it sure didn’t show. “He has distress about something.”

Walter was someone else he couldn’t leave without talking to.

“About that,” he said. “That’s my fault, I reckon.”

“Well, you will say something to him?” She came a step nearer. “He thinks you are hero.”

“I’m no hero, Jael.”

She moved nearer still. “Yes, you are. I think you are.” A smile pulled up the ends of her words. She raised her face. The flickering light from the bonfires slanted across her features and deepened her eyes impossibly. “You have done good things here, Hitch. Things no one else could have done.”

“Kept you away from Zlo, I reckon. But I didn’t get you home. I’m sorry for that.” Sort of.

She lowered her voice. “I am glad you did not. If we had not stopped Zlo, I would have duty to go back. But I find I do not want to go back now. My decision is that I am staying here.”

“Here?” Exactly what he’d been afraid of. But why not? She was starting to fit right in. Her English was getting better all the time; even her accent wasn’t quite so thick.