He started the horses moving as silence fell around them, though he kept looking in her direction, proud of her for defending herself despite how afraid she must have been. And still was. He couldn’t say he blamed her. He needed to say something to her, let her know everything was all right and that she was safe now. Something to take some of the fear out of her eyes.
“How would you like to come out to my ranch?” He stopped the wagon in front of her house and wrapped the reins around the hook in front of the seat, then jumped to the ground and came around to her side. “I remember you saying how much you like to ride. You didn’t get the chance out at Montaña del Trueno.” He held out his hand to help her.
“I think I’d like that.” Sheridan slipped her hand into his and he felt the warmth of that touch, despite her gloves. It seemed to settle in the vicinity of his chest, but it didn’t shock him or surprise him. He’d felt that sensation before and liked it.
“Good. This Saturday?”
“Yes.”
He escorted her up the porch steps, then strode toward the door, her hand still in his. “I’ll swing by the house and pick you up. Say about noon?”
“That will be fine.”
He gazed into her eyes. They were still a little watery. “Are you sure you’re all right? We can still see Doctor Ben.”
She nodded then swallowed hard, so hard he could see the muscles in her throat moving. “I am. I promise. Thank you for rescuing me, Wyatt.” And then she rose up on her toes and kissed his cheek before she disappeared into the house.
Wyatt stood there for a moment, the fragrance of her perfume seeming to surround him as he touched the side of his face. He could still feel the pressure of her lips, and he couldn’t say, with all honesty, that he hadn’t liked that, too.
How was he going to wait until Saturday to see her again? When had seeing Sheridan become important? He didn’t know. What’s more, he didn’t care.
He left Josie’s, then went to see Marshal Goodrich to tell him what happened with Duggan outside Conrad’s.
CHAPTER 10
Sheridan glanced at the clock for the ninth time as she waited for Wyatt—a man. What would her aunt and grandmother think if they knew?
All her life, she’d been told that men only wanted one thing and one thing only. Her aunt had made sure she was afraid of them, pounding into her head at every opportunity how a man could ruin a woman’s life if she let them. Aunt Estelle always brought up Josie as the example.
Sheridan never learned very much about her late grandfather since Odette never spoke of him. Ever. All she knew about Odette’s husband was that Henri DuBois had been fabulously wealthy and a philanderer. That’s it. There were no pictures of him, no mention of his name other than in disparaging terms. Just the sordid circumstances of his death, which was in the arms of his young paramour.
Wyatt MacLean certainly didn’t fit that mold. He was kind. He was solicitous. He was sweet. And a gentleman. He’d saved her from the awfulness of the man named Duggan. She liked Wyatt. Very much so. He, like the women she lived with, was becoming a friend. A good friend.
It was stunning to realize she been lied to about so many things. And the more she learned about her mother, the more she learned about herself. She could be warm and friendly, just like Josie. She could smile and laugh. And it was becoming easier, more natural than trying to keep herself distanced, always on the defense to protect herself. She was letting her guard down and it felt good.
If someone had asked her two months ago if she was happy, she most assuredly would have said no, but now, here in Serenity, her life was changing in so many ways, she couldn’t deny that she was happier than she’d ever been. There was a freedom here, something she could never have imagined. And affection from Lily and the other girls, from the friends she was making, like Lucy Hart and Tresia Goodrich, who had welcomed her to their circle. Leslie Carmichael had befriended her as well, and they spent many hours together just talking and poring over fashion magazines, patterns, and material.
It was all so new. And exciting.
The decision to stay in Serenity had become easier, too, except she still owned a brothel, though she didn’t run it. Mrs. Gallagher and the girls did a fine job of running it, and she hadn’t moved out. She still wanted to sell the business, but both her attempts had failed. One with Mr. Steele, who hadn’t even answered his door, and Mrs. Vega, who flat-out told her ‘no,’ though in the kindest way possible.
She was becoming curious, though, about what the girls did upstairs. Much too curious. And she couldn’t deny the thrill that made butterflies flutter in her belly every time Wyatt MacLean smiled at her. She was excited to be invited out to his ranch to go horseback riding now that it wasn’t so cold. It had been a while since she’d ridden, and she was looking forward to it. Indeed, it was becoming a little more difficult to sit still and wait for him to pick her up. She glanced at the clock, yet again, listening to ittick, then looked at the book in her hands, which couldn’t keep her attention.
Barrie came down the stairs with one of her ‘regulars’, a rancher who visited the parlor house every Saturday morning just to spend an hour or so with her. She escorted him to the door, holding out his hat. “I’ll see you next week, Joe.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned and accepted the hat, which he promptly fitted to his head.
She received his kiss on the cheek and closed the door behind him. She turned around, her cheeks stained a lovely pink, her eyes aglow, as if she had enjoyed herself then jumped, startled. “Oh, Sheridan. I didn’t see you sitting there.”
“That’s all right. You were a little busy.”
The color on Barrie’s cheeks seemed to deepen before she changed the subject. “Look at you.”
Sheridan looked down at the split skirt of soft suede, the matching bolero vest and the boots on her feet. “Is something wrong with what I’m wearing? I’m going riding.”
“Of course not. I’m just not used to seeing you dressed so casually, but you do look beautiful. I think it suits you.” Her eyes danced with humor, as if she already knew before she even asked her question. “Who are you going riding with?”
“Mr. MacLean.”
