Her feather-light touch was exactly what he needed. His clenched muscles relaxed and the worry that had begun building in the back of his mind subsided some. He smiled at her and marveled yet again about how lucky he was that she’d come into his life. “It is.”
“Will that man be staying here?” Catherine’s eyes wandered to the stairs.
“For now.”
“Fear not,” Mrs. Bell interjected. “If he’s belligerent, we have plenty of guests who’ll be more than happy to toss him out on his heels.”
Jonathan laughed at the image. “Mrs. Bell is right.” And that was the reason he needn’t worry about leaving her and Catherine at the boarding house while he conducted various errands. Men like the Carter brothers and Mick O’Rourke were as protective of the ladies as Jonathan himself.
“Speaking of our guests, a little bird told me that today is Gabriel Carter’s birthday. I thought we might bake a cake,” Mrs. Bell said to Catherine.
“Would that little bird be his brother?” Catherine asked with laugh.
“Perhaps.” Mrs. Bell led the way toward the kitchen and Catherine began to follow.
“Wait.” Jonathan reached out and took hold of his wife’s arm while Mrs. Bell retreated to the kitchen.
Catherine turned and looked up at him, not a single worry evident in her expression. “What is it?”
“I only wanted to remind you to tell me if any guest makes you feel afraid or uncomfortable. I know Mrs. Bell won’t hesitate to say anything, but I don’t want you to hesitate either. Do you understand?” The image of Frank Prince’s angry expression—the one that was spoiling for a fight—flitted through his mind, and he wished he’d sent the man packing instead of renting him a room.
Nothing good could come of that look.
“I will,” Catherine replied. When he didn’t let go of her arm, she added, “I promise.”
He swallowed, searching her face. If anything happened to her . . . the thought made his insides tie up in knots.
“Jonathan?” She stepped toward him, stopping directly in front of him. “Are you all right?”
He was still holding onto her arm as if it were the only thing tethering him to the ground. He loosened his grip and nodded, even though his throat was parched and he had the strangest urge to grab her and tuck her away somewhere safe.
She reached up and touched his face, her fingers just barely grazing the skin of his cheek. He closed his eyes and willed his heart to stop galloping off like a herd of frightened horses. He was here, at the boarding house in Grover’s Gulch—hisboarding house. He wasn’t back in Missouri, at his father’s house. He wasn’t a scared little boy anymore. And Pa had been dead for nigh on ten years.
Jonathan opened his eyes to see Catherine, her hand still on his face and her expression filled with concern.
“I’m fine,” he said, lacing his fingers through hers and pulling her hand away.
“Hmm.” It didn’t sound as if she believed him, and that wouldn’t do. He needed to protect her, not the other way around.
“I was only thinking.” He forced himself to smile, but all that did was make her wrinkle her forehead as she studied him.
“We’ll talk more later,” he said as he squeezed her hand. “I need to get back to work on that shed if there’s any of hope of finishing it before the real cold sets in. And I believe Mrs. Bell is awaiting your help with that cake.”
“All right,” Catherine said, her voice full of uncertainty.
The moment she left the parlor, Jonathan rubbed his face with his hands. It had been so long since he’d felt paralyzed like that, those memories rising to the surface as if they’d happened yesterday instead of years ago.
That couldn’t happen again. He had a wife, a baby on the way, and a business to look after. And he could protect none of them if he slipped back into the ghosts of his past.
Itwouldn’thappen again. He refused to let it.
