Jo jerked Elizabeth by the hand suddenly, leading her into the back room. Without being asked, Cutter followed, his footsteps amazingly lithe behind them.
Like a thief on the prowl, Elizabeth thought grudgingly. She supposed it was his Indian heritage that gave him such stealth. She peered anxiously over her shoulder. He really didn’t look much like an Indian, except for his dark coloring. But neither did Jo, for that matter, yet she knew they were. Jo had told her so.
“Now,” Jo asked, once she’d closed the door to her office, “what in thunder do you need a man for, Liz?”
Elizabeth’s gaze never left the other occupant of the sparsely furnished room. He sauntered over and sprawled backward into a large leather chair, dwarfing it beneath him. Hooking the curved toe of his boot about the leg of a nearby stool, he drew it closer, propping his scuffed leather boots upon it. The longer she watched him, the more his arrogant presence provoked her.
With a slow gesture, Cutter adjusted his hat so that it shaded his eyes—more out of habit than necessity, because the light in the room was too dim to be glaring. “Don’t mind me,” he said presently. Lifting a dark brow and one corner of his mouth, he returned Elizabeth’s regard, his infuriating smile locked insolently in place.
Caught in the act of staring, Elizabeth felt her breath snag. What was it about him that she found so discomfiting? Musing over that, she fanned herself, not realizing what that gesture revealed. Her eyes narrowed as she faced Jo. “He’s not really your brother?” she asked skeptically.
Jo nodded. Pursing her lips to keep from grinning, she said, “My baby brother, actually.”
“Why haven’t I met him before now?” Elizabeth persisted.
Jo’s eyes twinkled with mirth, and Elizabeth could suddenly see a clear and maddening resemblance between the two.
“Why do you think you should have? I didn’t happen into Sioux Falls until about two years ago. Cutter was only here long enough to help me open the Oasis. Since then... well... there’s been a war goin’ on, you know.” Jo tilted a sly look toward her brother, conceding with a sigh, “Though he has managed to steal in a time or two... to check up on me. Isn’t that so, brother dear?”
Cutter lifted his hat brim just enough so that Elizabeth glimpsed the lack of compunction in his jet black gaze. He obviously didn’t give a fig that anyone knew of his solicitousness, and didn’t bother even to deny as much to his sister—who seemed to take offense over it, if Elizabeth read her tone right.
“Now, mind you, he won’t admit it,” Jo continued, frowning benevolently. “Claims he’s only checking on the Oasis. You see, it’s his place, really, not mine, but he swears he hasn’t the patience to run it and kindly leaves that burden to me.” She gave her brother a conspiratorial wink. “Fact is, he’s just too generous, even if he is overprotective.” She sighed with resignation. “I keep tellin’ him I can take care of myself just fine without him, but he doesn’t seem to want to believe it’s so.”
Cutter said nothing to his sister’s allegations, but his smile turned crooked. Wry amusement played upon his sensuous lips, and somehow that arrogant grin made Elizabeth feel as awkward as a kettle-bellied mule, especially since it was still directed at her. More than anything, she wanted to strike it from his face. Though she was supposed to be grateful, she reminded herself. And yet despite his cocksure expression, she found she couldn’t quite tear her gaze away.
“Enough about that,” Jo said. “What I’d like to know, Liz girl, is what you think you need a man for?”
Elizabeth nodded in Cutter’s direction. It was just too difficult to remain coherent with the man staring at her so intently. “He doesn’t need to hear this, does he?”
Jo regarded Elizabeth impishly. “Well, sugar, I’ll put it to you this way. He could go... if you could persuade him to leave his own office. But even if he did, there aren’t any secrets between us. He’d more’n likely find out anyhow. So you might as well tell us both before I die of curiosity—why on earth do you need a man?”
The last two words were emphasized, as though it were a ridiculous notion. Elizabeth tried not to take exception.
“And what could be so bloomin’ important,” Jo continued, “that you would risk life and limb coming into the Oasis at this time o’ the night? You know better’n that!” she chided.
Warmth crept higher into Elizabeth’s cheeks as she glanced again at Cutter. He was still watching her, his expression unreadable but for the mocking smile upon his lips. She felt suddenly so conspicuous that she longed for the floor to open up and suck her down into it—anything to escape his bold scrutiny.
To Elizabeth’s dismay, that scoundrel’s smile spread clear to his fathomless eyes. Swallowing, she took a deep breath and averted her face, feeling his gaze rake her like a hot southern gust over a thirsting man in the middle of the desert; it was nearly her undoing. God grant her strength, she just knew that any moment she would burst into tears, and she refused to weep in front of the cad.
She decided it was best to ignore him.
If he wouldn’t go... then she would just make believe he wasn’t in the room with her—sitting little more than six feet away... give or take a few inches.
She forced her attention to remain on Jo.
“Well, I received a letter today,” Elizabeth began, her voice catching. She swallowed convulsively. “From my sister’s father-in-law. Katherine... K-Katherine,” she tried again, but her voice failed her. The words were just too difficult to speak. “She and her husband were... well, they were killed. He didn’t say how.” She tried to keep the emotion from her tone and merely recite the facts, but her lips trembled traitorously. “It seems they left their four-year-old daughter to my care.”
Closing her eyes, Elizabeth tried to steady herself, feeling suddenly as though she would swoon. But she’d never fainted before, and now wasn’t the time to begin.
Not in front of him.
But then, he wasn’t really there, she reminded herself sternly.
Ignore him.
Jo placed a reassuring arm about Elizabeth’s waist. “You poor thing! I’m so sorry!” she declared. “Here now, sit yourself down in my chair.”
Elizabeth sank numbly into the buttery-soft leather chair behind the tiny desk, grateful for the barrier it provided between herself and Jo’s brother. Except that now she was forced to face him. Her limbs felt weak at the realization.
