Sterling shook his head at going the mail-order bride route. He wasn’t that desperate. Not yet.
The question was—would he ever be able to love another woman?
He peered up at the stars blinking in the universe. He’d thought Violet was the only one for him, the glowing sun swinging into his orbit, the brilliant light to his life. But it turned out she’d only been a shooting star, there one moment and gone the next.
Anger sliced through him again—anger at her, at himself, at God, at everything and everyone.
He gave a curt shake of his head. He didn’t want to feel that anger again, which meant he had to keep from dwelling on her and all that had happened.
He started down the path again, his footsteps slapping against the stones. He just needed to go to bed. He was so tired that the moment his head hit his pillow, he’d fall into oblivion and put her out of his head.
As he started up the steps, movement and a soft voice from one side of the porch brought him to a standstill.
Someone was there.
He quickly pushed aside his coat and gripped the handle of his revolver. He narrowed his gaze on the far area, withdrew his gun, and pointed it at the outline of a person who was rising from one of the rocking chairs.
“Who’s there?” He had no idea who would be out at this time of the night, especially when it was so cold.
“Hi, Sterling,” came a shaking voice, a familiar voice, one he’d never wanted to hear again.
The very sound of it sent his heartbeat into an out-of-control gallop. His whole body stiffened, and his mouth went suddenly dry.
She took a step forward. “It’s me, Violet.”
He didn’t need her to say her name. He would recognize her voice in a crowd of a thousand women.
“What are you doing here?” His question came out harsh and filled with all the bitterness he’d been holding inside since she’d looked at him on their wedding day after kissing another man and said:I can’t marry you! Not when I don’t know if I even love you.
“I need help, Sterling.” Again, her voice wobbled. From fear? Or from the cold? Or both?
He hesitated, but then he holstered his gun and finished climbing the stairs. Why was he giving her even a moment of his time? His consideration. “Go home. You’re not welcome here.”
Without another glance, he steeled his shoulders and started toward the door.
“I knew we shouldn’t have come here,” another voice whispered, this one different but decidedly feminine. “He’s such an arrogant oaf.”
He halted only a few steps from the door. Had Violet brought Hyacinth with her? If so, had they walked from town?
“Hush,” Violet said softly.
From the corner of his eyes, he could see Violet straighten and face him squarely. “Please, Sterling.” Her voice was definitely shaking, or perhaps she was shaking, no doubt from the frigid night. How long had they been waiting on the porch? It wouldn’t take long for her to be frozen to the bone—not with how thin she was.
He silently cursed. Violet wasn’t his problem, and he couldn’t worry about her.
“We need a place to hide,” she continued. “Maybe for a couple of days, just until—”
“Not here. Find someplace else.” He took two more steps to reach the door.
“I don’t know where else to go.”
He opened the door and swung it wide. “Go home.”
“We can’t.” Her tone held a note of desperation, and she started crossing the porch toward him.
He stepped inside, needing to slam the front door behind him and block her out of his sight. He didn’t want to look at her perfect body, didn’t want to see her beautiful face, and didn’t want to peer into her stunning eyes. Because if he did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk away from her tonight. One tiny glimpse of her had always rendered him useless and weak and powerless against her charm. He had the feeling that hadn’t changed, even though he’d tried so hard to free himself from her power.
He grabbed the door and started to close it against an invisible hand that seemed to be forcing it open.
