Renee Ryan - The Outlaw's Redemption

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.