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“You really are watched, aren’t you?”
“Every minute of every day. Even my maid reports to Louis.”
“I’ve always thought maids were a lady’s biggest champions. They were the ones who passed secret notes to lovers and unlocked the doors at night to allow their lady to enter after a tryst.”
“Hunter! You’ve been reading romance novels.” She grinned as he tucked her arm into his and they began to walk along the shoreline.
“One of my friends in the Rangers has two sisters who were voracious romance readers. They particularly liked Miss Austen’s books. When we would stop into his family’s home once in a while, they would talk about their stories endlessly. Much to my friend’s annoyance. I sometimes think they did that to punish him for not coming home more often.”
“How often did you stop into your family home?”
She felt him stiffen under her arm. “Not much.”
When it appeared he had no intention of continuing, she asked, “Any particular reason why not?”
“I love my family, and my aunt and uncle were very good to me. To all of us. But for reasons I’ve yet to come to grips with, there was always something standing between me and the rest of them.”
“Yet you were comfortable enough to return home when you were injured.”
He nodded. “Yes. For better or worse, home is always that. Home.” He pulled his timepiece out and grimaced. “I’d better return you.”
As if a cloud had passed over the sun, her world immediately dimmed. She came to an abrupt halt. “No.”
He looked at her with raised eyebrows.
“Let’s run away. Now.” Her breathing picked up and she tugged on his sleeve. “Please?”
“Oh, honey.” He pulled her into his arms. “There is nothing more I want to do than take you away from here, away from that monster.” He placed his hands on her shoulders a
nd moved her back. “We will definitely leave. But we need time, we have to make plans. By law he has the right to bring you back, no matter how many times you run. We have to make sure he either won’t—or can’t—come after you.”
Her shoulders slumped and she stared at the horizon. “How will we do that?”
“I have to do some investigation. What Louis is doing is illegal. I’ll also ask Uncle Jesse to search the law on investment firms, stock market regulations, abusive husbands, and . . .”
“What?”
He brushed the hair from her eyes. “Divorce.”
“Oh.”
Divorce. What a scandal that would be. Nice people didn’t get divorced. In fact, she’d never known anyone who had. If she were able to get a divorce, would she do it? Barely two seconds passed before she knew her answer would be yes. She could be legally free of Louis and able to make her own decisions. Not answerable to anyone.
Once more Hunter gathered her in his arms and climbed the boulders to the street. He set her down and took both of her hands. “We have time. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere without you. And I will be watching to make sure all is right.”
Two days later, after mailing letters to his friend, Texas Rangers investigator Jeremy Steele, and to Uncle Jesse, Hunter stopped into the local café for breakfast. The restaurant seemed to be doing a brisk business—a sure sign the food was good. He ordered biscuits, eggs, and sausage and opened the local newspaper as he sipped his coffee.
He skimmed the articles, most of them about local events and people. As he folded the paper in half, an ad caught his eye. Well, well. Smith and Sanders were looking for new clients.
We will protect your money and make it grow. Stop in and see us today!
His bank account was quite healthy, he could afford to put a little bit of money into play at Smith and Sanders to see what they were up to. Once he finished his breakfast, he might take a little stroll to the offices at—he checked the address—407 Tremont Street. He smiled brightly when the waitress placed his food in front of him.
Galveston, Texas was a busy, bustling town. Profitable businesses lined the downtown area. Shoppers strolled from store to store, enjoying the sunshine and cool ocean breeze. Young mothers had little ones in tow, and the streets were congested with a mix of automobiles, horses, and carriages. Neither mode of transportation displayed much patience with the other.
The beauty of the day called for a leisurely stroll. He tipped his hat to ladies and nodded at the gentlemen. A short trip into the pharmacy resulted in a pocket full of lemon drops.
When he’d escorted Emily back to the dressmaker’s shop yesterday, he immediately drove his horse and carriage to the front of the building. He breathed a sigh of relief when Emily appeared and climbed into the Ford Model K. The relief had soon turned to anger when he thought about what she faced when she returned home.
