Rede held up a hand. “Now, just hold your horses! What on earth are you talking about, Miss Addy? Why will they think you’re demented? And why are you goin’ to starve to death?”
Some of the fire died from her eyes. “I—I jumped when I heard the thud, fearing you’d fallen or something,” she began. “That got Mrs. Fickhiser suspicious, and she demanded to know who was here. I tried to…cover up…by saying a stack of books I’d been moving must’ve fallen over, but she didn’t act like she believed me, and…” Now she bit her lower lip and twisted her hands together, looking away from him.
“And what?” he demanded. Lord, had Addy Kelly already given away the secret of his presence to the woman with the biggest mouth in the town?
“And I…oh, heavens, you’re going to think I’m such a silly goose…I implied it might be the ghost of my dead uncle.”
He stared at her, realizing he’d read embarrassment as guilt. He threw back his head and let out a hoot of laughter. “You told her your house might be haunted, yet you want to blame me for ruinin’ your business?”
She stiffened. “I didn’t say it was haunted, just that my aunt had told me that she had seen the ghost of my uncle in here. Oh, it was a complete lie, of course—my uncle was much too kind a man to frighten my aunt by appearing like that—but it was the first fib that popped into my head. I suppose I’m not a very good liar. It was wrong of me to blame you.”
He started to grin at the admission, but then he realized Addy wouldn’t have to be lying about anything if he wasn’t here hiding out at her house.
“I reckon it’s probably better for a person not to be a good liar,” he murmured. “But what kind of business are you in?” he asked, curious.
“I’m a seamstress,” Addy told him, raising her chin a little as she said it. “I sew dresses and do alterations. That’s the reason I was in Austin—buying supplies I couldn’t get at the mercantile here.”
“And you run your business out of your home? Why don’t you have your shop in town?”
“I inherited this place, not a place in town,” she said, a bit defensively. “I can’t afford to rent a shop in town—at least not yet,” she added. “It’s not so far beyond town that people mind coming here—or at least, they didn’t, until I convinced Mrs. Fickhiser the place was haunted, or that I was crazy.” Her brow furrowed in obvious anxiety.
“Your late husband didn’t leave you very well off, I take it?”
Rede was sorry as soon as the question left his lips. Her mouth tightened again, and she looked down at her lap.
“I’m sorry, Miss Addy,” he said quickly. “It ain’t any of my business.”
She raised her head, meeting his gaze squarely. “Indeed it isn’t. But since you asked, no, Charles did not leave me very well off. And I have not been in Connor’s Crossing very long. So I do depend on my good reputation to get my business established and keep it going.”
“Miss Addy, next time someone comes I’ll be so quiet you can hear a hummingbird’s heartbeat,” he promised, his hand over his heart. He was trying to make her smile again; and she started to, but then she got that worried look again.
“Well, hopefully you’ll be well enough to leave before too much longer,” she said briskly. “How long before you’ll be able to ride?”
“Oh, a few days,” he said, deliberately vague. He’d wanted to extend his stay, using her place as his base of operations, but it sure didn’t look like it was going to be easy to talk her into that. And that was too bad, because from what he’d been able to determine, Addy Kelly’s house was perfectly situated—far enough out of town that folks didn’t drop by without a reason, near enough to keep in touch with the news. And once he’d found the Fogarty hideout, Connor’s Crossing was surely big enough to have a telegraph office he could visit to summon his Ranger company.
He’d just have to convince Addy she had nothing to fear from his continued presence. But first, Rede, you’d better convince yourself. If he was allowed to stay, it was going to be awfully hard to keep his hands off the tempting young widow.
Just then he heard the distinct growl of her stomach.
Addy pressed a hand against her middle and blushed. “Excuse me! I was just about to fix dinner when Mrs. Fickhiser came—now it must be the middle of the afternoon! Could you eat a little something, Rede?”
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