Harper St. George - An Outlaw To Protect Her

She was smiling when she approached her study, but the smile faltered when she realized that the door wasn’t latched. A gentle nudge revealed that her assistant’s desk sat empty. Glory turned on the wall sconce to reveal that no one was in the antechamber at all. How odd. Charlotte, her assistant, always closed up when she finished her work for the evening. A stack of correspondence ready to post the next morning sat on the corner of Charlotte’s small desk, exactly as she’d left them. It was possible that Charlotte had forgotten to lock up, but a strange sense of foreboding made her stomach tumble.

Glory took in a deep breath, consciously avoiding looking across the room at the door that led to her study. Glory was the only person with a key to that door. If it was open then it meant that someone had broken in and she’d have to face that her sanctuary wasn’t really a sanctuary at all. But she was being silly. Of course it was locked. To prove it to herself she put her hand into the hidden pocket of her skirt and wrapped her fingers around the warm metal of the key. It was still safely with her. Charlotte had simply forgotten to close the door to the hallway.

Her heart pounding, she turned toward her door. It was mercifully closed. An exhale of relief left her feeling deflated and weak. She put a hand on the corner of Charlotte’s desk to keep her balance. Even after all these years she was wary of any irregularity. She knew all too well how quickly life could come crashing down with very little warning.

There was no light coming from beneath her door and no sound came from within her study. No one had been inside. She knew that, but her heart resumed its pounding as she approached the door with her key in hand. The cool metal of the latch chilled her palm and she gave it a quick turn to test the lock. Her key held useless in her other hand, the door latch made a clicking sound as it unlatched. She gave a little push and the door creaked, swinging open to reveal the interior of her office. Moonlight flooded in through the windows facing the street, spilling onto the carpeted floor. No one was inside, but nevertheless she moved forward cautiously.

As soon as her feet crossed the threshold she saw it. It was a square piece of parchment sitting in the middle of her tidy desk, and it seemed to have a nearly ethereal glow in the moonlight. It had not been there when she’d left earlier in the evening.

Turning on the electric sconce on the wall didn’t help. The white parchment lost its glow, but it didn’t seem any less dangerous. It hadn’t been sent by post. There was no envelope, no markings at all. She crossed to her desk, watching the note as if it were a living thing that could jump out and grab her at any moment. Blood pounded through her head, filling her ears with its roar. Somehow her life would change when she read that letter. She just knew it. Good things rarely came along unexpectedly.

Her fingers trembled when she reached for it. The stiff paper was cool under her touch, barely crinkling as she sucked in a deep breath and flipped it open. The first five words on the page jumped out at her, sending a shard of terror straight through her heart.

I know who you are.

Chapter Two

Zane Pierce tossed back the last of the whiskey in his tumbler and rose from his stool at the bar. The woman tending the bar gave him a smile as she picked up the glass and wiped the mahogany beneath it to a shine. “Fancy some company later tonight?”

Penelope was naturally pretty in a quiet way that wasn’t very outrageous. Even with the kohl lining her eyes and her reddened lips, she gave off an air that was almost wholesome. As if she could just as easily be teaching Sunday school at a church across town instead of working at Victoria House. Some men seemed to like that. Since Zane had been around for the past week, he’d noticed a few of the patrons asking to take her upstairs, but she’d turned them all down. Maybe she didn’t “work upstairs,” the code he’d learned referred to the prostitutes who worked on the second floor. Hell, he might’ve even been interested at one time.

He glanced across the length of the dining room to the door through which Glory had recently disappeared. She’d made it clear when she’d allowed him to have a room a week ago that taking refuge in Victoria House meant that her women were off-limits. The castration that would result probably wasn’t worth it, he mused.

“I don’t think Miss Winters would appreciate that.” That was only part of the reason. In reality it was a gentle way to let Penelope down, because the only woman he was interested in was Glory. The truth was that Glory Winters was the only woman who’d caught his interest in a long time.

They’d known each other for a couple of years now and had spent that entire time circling each other. He could probably count on one hand the times they’d spoken. He might’ve thought she wasn’t interested in him except that he heard the way she caught her breath when he passed too close. He caught the looks she flashed his way when she thought he couldn’t see her.

One night earlier in the week he’d caught her staring at him in the lounge at Victoria House. He’d been sitting at the bar drinking a whiskey before returning to his room for the night. She’d been standing just outside the doorway at an angle that should’ve obscured her from view. He only saw her because the mirror above the bar had caught her reflection just right. She’d stood there for a solid two minutes staring at him with a look that he could only describe as pure longing on her face. When he’d turned to talk to her she’d taken off running. He hadn’t followed her because he’d hoped to give her time to come to him.

“Oh.” Penelope nibbled her lip and offered him a shy smile. “I didn’t mean that I’d charge you anything. I don’t work upstairs.”

Something about the woman’s softly worded admission tugged at him. For the first time he found himself wondering what life was like for the women here. Did Penelope want to be a farmer’s wife or was she happy at Victoria House? Was she lonely? He lowered his voice to soften his rejection. “Maybe some other time after I’ve moved out.”

Which could be as early as tomorrow since their hunt for Buck Derringer was over. The search had consumed them for the past few years. Zane had been working on a ranch down in Texas owned by his friend Castillo’s grandfather. Derringer had come around offering improved ranching methods and expertise, and pretty soon he’d swindled Castillo’s grandfather out of his life savings. When Castillo had tried to collect, Derringer and his son, Bennett, had blown through the ranch one night, killing Castillo’s grandfather and leaving destruction. The ranch had burned to the ground. The scar Zane carried on his face was a lifetime reminder of that horrible night. Zane had vowed to help his friend get revenge.

They’d been joined by Castillo’s half brother, Hunter, and had soon become known as the Reyes Brothers. After years of searching from Texas to Montana Territory, Derringer had found them in Helena, Hunter’s hometown. Last week they’d been in a shoot-out with Derringer’s son and killed him, and Derringer had gone into hiding again. Two days ago Derringer had come out of nowhere, shooting at Castillo from an alley. He’d been wounded, but Zane had managed to come to his aid and together they’d killed the bastard.

The years of searching were over, but Zane wasn’t ready to leave Victoria House just yet. He’d taken a room here to root out Derringer and while their enemy had fallen, Zane hadn’t moved one step closer in uncovering the mystery of the brothel’s madam. No one was willing to talk much about the madam or her past. It was as infuriating as it was intriguing.