“Here, let me have a look.” Gently, she pried away his fingers. The sleeve of his suit coat was torn wide open in a line, as was the shirtsleeve beneath. A grazing wound, then, albeit bloody and painful. She blew out a long breath. Mr. Coleman had escaped the clutches of the grim reaper for now, but Carky was still out there.
And she’d still be gunning for him.
Jackson really shouldn’t be here. Should definitely not be unlocking his own front door while the sun still whispered its final goodbye in the sky. Shouldn’t even be thinking about relaxing on the sofa with his wife in his arms once Bella had gone to bed—not when he hadn’t so much as touched the mountain of paperwork on his desk all day. But oh, what a day it had been.
And he just couldn’t take one more problem to solve.
He hung his hat on the coat-tree then cracked his neck one way and the other. Brooks snuffled down the corridor, snout to the baseboards, sniffing out bugs for dinner. Now that they had Bella, why Kit insisted on keeping the armadillo for a pet was beyond him, but it did manage to keep away the creepy crawlies.
Light glowed from the sitting room. Odd. Kit should be in the kitchen feeding Bella, not already lounging on the sofa without him.
“Kit?” He swung into the front room only to be met with the startled stare of a hump-nosed man with a square jaw sitting in his shirtsleeves—and one of them was rolled up with a bandage wrapped around his bicep. Jackson frowned. “Who are you? And why are you bleeding on my sofa?”
The fellow shifted nervously on the cushion. “I am Mr. Coleman.”
Jackson’s brows shot up. “The man my wife—”
“Was looking for. That’s right. Welcome home, love.” Skirts swished in and Kit pecked him on the cheek without missing a step on her way to the tea table, where she set down a tray, porcelain cups rattling. “We’ve only just got back from the doctor’s office, and I thought some tea would be in order before dinner. Would you like some?”
He blinked. Did she really think a cup of tea would distract him?
“A word, please, Wife.” He swept out his arm, allowing her to precede him into the corridor, but the second they cleared the door, he pulled her close and lowered his voice. “What is Mr. Coleman doing here?”
“I couldn’t very well leave him bleeding on the ground in the middle of a circus. You would have done the same.”
He ground his teeth, frustrated beyond measure. “When have I ever brought home a strange man and parked him on our sofa?”
“Never, but you did have a strange man in your office this morning. What’s the difference?” She shrugged.
“You know very well there is a huge difference. I will not be distracted with your bait-and-switch tactics. I thought this Mr. Coleman was a brigand who stole his own daughter and beat his wife, and yet you have the audacity to bring him into our home?”
“Calm down. It’s not like that.” She smoothed her hands along his waistcoat. “Turns out I was wrong.”
“You?” He snorted. “Wrong?”
She dropped her hands, a frown bending her brow. “Gloating ill becomes you, Husband.”
He blew out a long breath. He was getting nowhere—and fast—so he backed up a bit. “By your own admission, you went to the circus, which I expressly told you not to. And not only did you disobey that directive, you actively rescued the man and his child, which you promised you would not do. Say.” He narrowed his eyes. “Where is that baby, anyway?”
“Turns out there wasn’t one. It was all a lie intended to pull on my heartstrings and blind me to the truth.”
She looked so mournful, he almost felt sorry for her…but not quite. Jackson heaved a disgusted sigh. “Why did Charles not tell me you were there? Surely he must have seen you if the picture you just painted is correct. A bleeding man laid out on the ground isn’t something he would have missed.”
“He didn’t miss it. In fact, I was quite glad to see him, but I was compelled to swear him to secrecy. No one is to know Mr. Coleman is here.” Her teeth worried her lower lip. “Though it won’t be long until Carky finds out.”
His ears perked up at the name—the very same as Gruver had squawked, leastwise part of it. “Carky Smathers?”
“Youknow her?” Kit’s eyes widened.
“Not personally, but she’s the one who hired those cutthroats that chased you and Baggett.”
“Of course she was.” Kit slung her arms wide, fingers brushing against the coat-tree and sending it wobbling.
In one swift movement, Jackson stilled the thing before it tipped. “But who hired her and why does she wish Mr. Coleman dead?”
“I was just about to ask the man that myself, hence the tea. I was trying to calm him.” Rising to her toes, she nuzzled her nose against his ear. “Would you like to help me?”
Thunder and turf! He’d like to do more than that, and the wily little minx knew it, judging by the knowing look sparking blue in her eyes.
