“Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing, Devlin.” She rose up on her elbow and looked down at his face, his features more visible. “Something is bothering you. It’s like…you’re just waiting for something to happen.”
He let out his breath in a long sigh. “I am.”
“Can’t you tell me?” She traced her fingers along his cheek and chin, feeling the rough stubble of the beard he’d shave off in the morning. “Perhaps sharing your concerns might lessen the burden.”
“You’re a good woman, Tresia,” he whispered as he entwined his fingers with hers. It took another few moments before he seemed to come to a decision. “It’s these reporters coming into town, wanting interviews, asking too many questions. I met one from Albuquerque today and then I made the mistake of reading the piece Wagner put in the Serenity Times. He mentioned my name several times, mentioned the town. He didn’t mention Avery, thank God, but I feel like it’s only a matter of time before Frances shows up.”
Her heart went out to him. She loved this man with every fiber of her being and what worried him, worried her. What frightened him, frightened her as well. “I see. And you’re concerned.”
She could tell he was loathe to admit it but admit it he did. “Yes.”
“Why?”
He remained silent for the longest time. When he finally did speak, his voice was raw and conveyed exactly what concerned him. “Because, knowing Frances as I do, she’ll come here and try to take Avery and it’s a fight I don’t want to deal with. I don’t want her around Avery. She will cause trouble.”
“She can’t take her. You’re her father.”
He stiffened then released her hand. “But she can try,” he sighed then admitted, “Frances has a lot of influence. And a lot of power. I’m more than certain she has several judges in her pocket, not to mention her family lawyer who may or may not have broken the law for her. There’s even a senator or two. They’re all willing to do her bidding, either because they’re not good men or under threat of blackmail. She seems to have a holdover these men. I’m not sure why or how.” He paused, as if to gather his thoughts.
“When Hannah and I got married against her wishes, she did everything she could possibly do to break us apart and make our marriage go away.” He reached for her, pulling her closer, perhaps searching for the calmness he said she brought to him. “She didn’t like me very much. Still doesn’t like me to this day. She threatened to have our marriage annulled. Said she knew people who could do that for her. I believed her.”
He laughed wryly, but the sound struck Tresia as odd. She didn’t say anything—just wanting him to talk, until he didn’t feel like the bottom was about to drop out of his world.
“Frances told that to Hannah, too. I think that was the first time Hannah stood up to her and told her no, threatened that if she didn’t stop her interference, Hannah would never see her again. Frances loved her daughter—as much as Frances knows how to love—so she stopped with the intimidation. And then Avery was born and things were better in one way but seemed to get worse in another. The dislike she had for me turned into downright hate. Frances wanted Hannah and Avery to move back to the ranch and stay with her, using the dangers of my job to frighten Hannah, telling Hannah she didn’t know how to raise a child, telling her that I had been with other women, which I would never do. Frances did everything she could to get Hannah to hate me, too.”
“But it didn’t work, did it?”
“No, the more Frances pushed, the more Hannah dug in her heels. She was stubborn that way. She still went out to the ranch to visit but left any time her mother started berating me and our marriage. As I said, she will cause trouble.” He drew in his breath. “Avery is happy now. I don’t want to see that change.”
“What can we do?”
“Nothing until she shows up.” There was such defeat in his voice.
“I think you should talk to Mr. Applebaum. He’s a good lawyer. He might be able to help. Maybe there’s a way to keep her away from Avery.”
“I doubt Mr. Applebaum has much influence over someone like Frances,” he scoffed, not willing to believe it.
“It’s worth a try, isn’t it?” she asked, hoping he would see her suggestion as an answer to the problem that was Frances Emerson Comstock. “Doing something is better than worrying about it. That won’t get you anywhere except a sour stomach and a racing mind.”
His body relaxed as if he considered her suggestion. “You’re so good for me, Tresia.”
“Yes, I am.” She smiled at him even though she wasn’t sure he could see it. “We’re good for each other.”
“Yes, we are. I agree. It’s worth a try. I’ll see him in the morning, but for now—” He didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, he rolled toward her and took possession of her mouth, his lips moving over hers. Tresia felt that kiss all the way to her toes and her belly quivered.
“Again?” she murmured when he broke the kiss and smoothed his fingers against her face.
He didn’t answer, just kissed her. And this time, his kiss was a little less desperate and she gave him all that he needed from her.
Early the next morning, Devlin, taking Tresia’s advice, climbed the outside stairs to Philip Applebaum’s office above his home. He let himself in, determined to find a way to protect himself—and Avery—from Frances. There was a small desk as soon as one walked into the office, but it was unoccupied.
A door to the left of the desk was wide open. He strode toward it and peeked in to see an older man, elbows on the desk, his hands pressed against his cheeks to prop up his head as he studied an open law book.
He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for the interruption, Mr. Applebaum, but do you have a moment for me?”
The man looked up and smiled. “Of course, Marshal! Come in. Come in.” He gestured to a deep leather chair in front of his desk. “Please. Sit.” He slipped a bookmark into the book and closed it, giving Devlin his full attention. “What can I do for you?”
