“I do. Some days more than others, but I was lucky, I suppose. I had—have—some great role models.TiaEvie. Bonita Gonzales over at the Serenity hotel. They were both very good friends with my mother. Both took me under their wing, so to speak, after she passed. There are others who hold a special place in my heart.”
“Do you regret not going to Vassar?”
“No, not at all. My decision to not go was for the best because if I had left, I would never have met Brett. Besides, why did Ineed to go to school to learn how to run a business and keep the books? My father had been teaching me since I was old enough to understand.” She sighed, though it sounded content to him. “I bet I could teach others better than most though I will admit, some people don’t want to learn.” She finished her coffee and glanced in his direction.
“Speaking of keeping the books, I should go. I still need to go over the last week’s receipts for Sullivan’s, though why I try, I don’t know. Both Cousin Arnold and Willetta seem to be in the category of those who don’t want to learn.”
She rose from her chair and brought her coffee cup inside. She returned in moments, the ledger in her arms, drawstring purse dangling from her wrist. “I’ll wash that cup in the morning. You can leave your cup in the sink, too.” She smiled and walked down the porch steps. “Good night, Devlin.”
“Good night, Tresia.” He rose from his seat. “And thank you.”
She stopped on the bottom step and turned to face him. “For what?”
“For the conversation. For everything you do.”
“It’s my pleasure, Devlin. Good night.”
He watched her walk toward the gate at the back of the yard, disappear behind the tall hedges of his neighbor’s yard then reappear as she climbed the steps to Mrs. McMurty’s Boarding House. She waved one last time before she let herself in.
He sat in the chair again and took another sip of his coffee, wishing she could have stayed longer. What would it be like if she didn’t have to go home?
CHAPTER 12
Devlin turned over in bed, dragging the light blanket with him, then flipped his pillow, looking for the cool side. And it didn’t work. No matter what he tried, he wasn’t able to sleep, though he had no clue as to why.
He lay in the darkness for a long time then smiled. He knew exactly why he couldn’t sleep.
Mrs. Tresia Morgan.
He shouldn’t have kissed her, but it just felt so right, and he didn’t regret it in the least. He wasn’t sure if she did or not. She’d seemed flustered, but only for a moment, and when he kissed her again, she responded, her lips conforming to his, the warmth of her mouth like a drug he couldn’t get enough of. He would have kept on kissing her if Avery hadn’t giggled, reminding him where he was and who he was with.
Avery hadn’t seemed to mind that he had kissed Tresia.
He had to admit that he enjoyed seeing her each morning and then again at the end of the day, their ritual of talking over coffee or playing chess. Everything everyone had said about her was true. She was warm and friendly and compassionate and like Hannah, one of the most beautiful women he’d ever known, with her pansy-colored eyes and auburn hair, but she was somuch more. It was her innate kindness, her willingness to accept everyone for who they were—her inner beauty—that drew him.
Avery, who’d barely spoken two words when he’d rescued her from Frances, had become, in such a short time with Tresia, the talkative, exuberant little girl he knew and loved. Now, she was hardly ever quiet and that was all right with him. She was joyful again, something she hadn’t been in a long time. He was happy, too, as impossible as that seemed. He didn’t think he’d ever feel this way again and yet, here he was, grinning in the darkness like an idiot.
Tresia had done that. She’d used whatever magic she possessed—and he was convinced it was magic—to make them both feel almost whole, like they were worthy of happiness.
I’m in love with her.
The words reverberated in his head, not with thunderbolts and lightning, but with a gentleness that swept through him and brought him peace. He turned over, punched his pillow one more time, and closed his eyes, but sleep still didn’t come. He should just get up, get a start on his day, but didn’t want to leave the warmth of his bed. He rolled onto his back, folded his hands behind his head and let his mind drift and closed his eyes…until a loud, persistent knocking on the front door startled him.
He darted out of bed, pulled on his trousers and boots, shrugged into a shirt and got his gun belt, then rushed downstairs before the noise woke Avery. He buckled on his guns just before he opened the door.
The flash of light from the lantern nearly blinded him as the figure on the porch raised it up. He blinked rapidly until his eyes became accustomed to the light. It only took a moment more before he recognized one of Josie’s girls. She was half sobbing and there was blood on her dress.
“Corianna? What’s happened?”
“Nate told me to come get you,” she blurted out amid a fresh wave of tears. “Josie’s been stabbed.” She looked down at her hands. “There was so much blood. I don’t….”
“Come in.” He led her into the kitchen and pulled out a chair for her to sit. “Now tell me what happened.”
“A man was trying to get Valentine to go upstairs with him. She didn’t want to. She was afraid. He was hurting her. She was crying and begging him to stop but he just kept on hurting her. Josie tried to stop him.” She gulped in air. “Lily tried to help, too. The man…he…he…he pulled out a knife and stabbed Josie. Stabbed them both.”
“Is that man still there?”
“No. He ran out of the house, almost knocking me down.”
