“You gonna be all right?” Jo asked.
Elizabeth nodded, and her gaze was again drawn to Cutter’s. Like a hapless moth to a killing flame, she thought petulantly.
His smile was gone now, replaced with what seemed a disapproving scowl. He probably thought her a blubbering idiot, she thought grimly—and what was worse, she felt like one, too.
“So skip to the man part,” Jo prompted, waving her hand impatiently.
Chapter Two
“Ican’t claim Katherine’s child unless I’m married,” she said bluntly. “Her grandfather loves her, you see, and he won’t give her up unless he’s certain she’ll go to a decent home.”
“I don’t understand,” Jo interjected. “Why doesn’t the kid just stay with him, if he loves her so damned much?”
“Because he claims he’s too old to raise her,” Elizabeth disclosed. “And he also wrote that if I can’t take her, he’d be forced to give her to a God-fearing couple he knows who was never blessed with children.”
She bit into her lower lip to keep from crying out, and her eyes closed for the briefest instant as she fought to retain her composure. When she opened them again, they were misty. “Jo! I have to get that child! Katie’s all the family I’ve got left—Ineedto raise her, can’t you see? I can’t bear to think of her growing up all alone... not knowing her.” Her eyes were melancholy. “She’s only four.” Her voice was soft with pain. “Don’t you understand?”
Jo nodded. “I think I do, sugar. So what are you gonna do?”
Elizabeth cleared her throat, because the words she was about to speak seemed outrageous even to her own ears. “Well...” Knitting her brows, she began, “I thought... I thought, maybe, I’d hire myself a husband.”
A sudden choking sound diverted Elizabeth’s attention, and her eyes widened, her gaze flying to Cutter’s as though she suddenly recalled his presence. To her annoyance, that unwelcome heat stole back into her cheeks.
Watching Elizabeth’s back straighten stoically, Cutter experienced a longing to console. It amazed him that she’d not so much as shed a single tear, and he admired her for that strength of character. Most gals he knew would be spouting liquid salt like a wrung sponge—justifiably—yet here she sat, eyes glassy with grief, and not a drop to behold. Still, her grief was a tangible thing, and something stirred deep down. She seemed to deal with anger well enough, and so he thought to give her another focus. “Quit pampering her, Jo. She’s no idiot child!”
Her head snapping up, Jo gave her brother an incredulous look. Silence overwhelmed the small room for an uncomfortable instant as she glared at him, and said finally, “How would you know what she needs, you insensitive cuss!”
Cutter lifted a brow in amused surprise. “I was ‘too generous’ only a scant moment ago,” he reminded her.
Without giving his sister time to reply, he rose from the chair and went to the private bar. Tipping a few long-necked bottles to better read the labels, he found one to his liking, lifting it along with two glasses, setting them down upon the desk before Elizabeth.
Jo glanced back at Elizabeth, but Elizabeth was still watching Cutter. “Look, Elizabeth, even if you can work this plan out somehow... I’m not sure this is the best time to be traveling.”
Elizabeth’s gaze returned to Jo. “Oh, but you see... it’s really a very good time! Word is sure to have spread about the war by now. And Elias says that with so many troops in the area, there shouldn’t be any concern over...” She glanced away anxiously, and then back, and was chewing her lip in search of a word.
“Indians,” Jo provided for her. She shared an amused look with her brother.
“Um, yes.” Elizabeth said.
Cutter lifted up the small stool that had propped his feet earlier and set it down with a clatter on the opposite side of the small desk. Without preamble, he took his seat upon the stool, and as short as it was, he still sat taller than Elizabeth did in her plush leather chair.
“This,” he informed them both, though he kept his gaze fastened to Elizabeth’s, winking audaciously at her, “is just what the woman needs right now.” He lifted up his drink.
Elizabeth’s brows drew together in disapproval. Her hair was pulled back too tightly, making her face appear taut and gaunt, but Cutter’s eyes overlooked that, focusing only on the thick black fringe of lashes magnified by her lenses, and those dark brows so at odds with her honey-colored hair and complexion.
“Sure it is!” exclaimed Jo in disgust. “Ain’t it always a man’s answer to everything?” She shook her head reprovingly.
Elizabeth, on the other hand, remained quiet.
When he tore his gaze away from her, he glanced up at his sister and said pointedly, “Don’t you have a hookshop to run, or something?”
Jo glowered at him. “Well, yes, but...”
She couldn’t argue with truth—and she didn’t dare leave that mangy bunch o’ men alone in her bar for too long, Cutter knew. Like as not, they were sneaking sips from her bottles, and pinches from her girls. Her hands went to her hips in warning. “Behave yourself, Cutter. If you dare say anything to hurt Elizabeth’s feelings...”
A shadow of annoyance crossed Cutter’s sharp features, but faded just as quickly as it appeared. “You know me better’n that, Jo. Fact is, I figure I can help. Now, get the hell out of here and back to work before you have nothing left to get back to.” His eyes flashed a gentle but firm warning.
Elizabeth opened her mouth to object, but before she could utter a word, Jo snorted inelegantly and left the room, closing the door firmly behind her.
