Wildstar

Devlin's grin faded abruptly. "Would you mind telling me what makes you think so?" he asked after a moment.

"I know my daughter, Garrett. She's not the same per­son she was a month ago. She colors up like a tomato whenever she hears your name. And she was actually cussing the other day. That isn't like Jess."

Devlin couldn't stop the sudden pounding of his heart. "That doesn't mean she's in love with me."

"No? She'd never get so riled at somebody she only felt lukewarm toward. She either hates you or loves you, and I don't think it's hate."

"I'm not so sure about that." He grimaced, remember­ing. "She wasn't exactly overjoyed to learn the size of my bank account. And she considered my purchasing an inter­est in the Wildstar nothing less than treason. She accused me to my face of knowing about the lode beforehand and trying to swindle you out of your money. That doesn't sound much like love to me."

Riley's mouth curved in a faint grin. "Oh, I didn't say she likes being in love with you. Fact is, she's fighting it just as hard as she can. But I kind of hope she loses the battle. I'd be happy to have you as a son-in-law."

Devlin sucked in his breath sharply. "You don't pull your punches, do you?"

"Don't see any reason to. I think you ought to marry her."

A bit stunned and a bit wary, Devlin stood there grim and unmoving, his hands halted in the process of buckling his gun belt. He knew instinctively that what Riley was telling him was true. He'd known too many women not to recognize the signs. Jessica was in love with him. He'd succeeded at least partially in his goal to make her eat her words.

He just didn't know precisely what he intended to do about it.

He didn't much care for being cornered this way by her father, either. But there was no way he could ignore the is­sue, stated so baldly. Riley wanted him to marry his daughter.

He was mildly surprised when Riley did an about-face and offered him a way out.

'"Course, if you don't love her, that's something else. Jess deserves the love of a good man." Riley began tying the leather thongs of the bedroll. "All I want is for her to be happy, and it wouldn't make her happy to have a hus­band who didn't love her . . . or who wasn't going to give up his other women and be faithful to her."

"Are you finished?" Devlin asked abruptly, avoiding an answer as he resumed tightening his gun belt. "I need to get going."

Riley didn't look away. "With your gear, I am," he said, implying that he wasn't done with the subject. "You may recall I told you something about my late wife, son. Burke loved Jenny Ann, but he lost her because he wouldn't marry her. So you ought to think about this long and hard—about what's really important in life. You could be the richest man in Colorado, but it won't keep you warm in winter, at least not the kind of warmth that means any­thing. Your letting Jessie get away could be the biggest mistake of your life."

Refusing to reply, Devlin put on his hat and hefted his rifle. He knew better than most that wealth was cold com­fort. For a long, long time he'd been dissatisfied with his life. But until he'd come to Silver Plume, he'd never been so

aware of the emptiness. He realized something vital was missing—like the love and companionship Riley Sommers shared with his daughter. A relationship that was strong and enduring.

He wanted that kind of relationship in his life, Devlin acknowledged. But his feelings for Jess were intense and complex, and he didn't want to be rushed into sorting them out. Even if he did decide to marry Jessica, he in­tended to go about it slowly. His scars ran deep. He'd been mistaken about a woman's love before, and he wasn't about to set himself up for such a fall again. He wanted to be damn sure that what he felt for her was real, and what she felt for him would last.

When they reached the street, it was near midnight, but the music and revelry coming from the saloons and dance halls along Main Street hadn't diminished in the slightest. They fastened Devlin's saddlebags and bedroll on his horse. Riley had recovered enough from his wound to play poker but not enough to climb into a saddle without pain, so they walked the several blocks through the darkness to his small house, with Devlin leading his mount. - It became immediately clear, however, that Riley wasn't going to let the previous subject die.

"You see, son, I don't want the same thing happening to Jess that happened to her ma. Jess shouldn't have to settle for second-best the way her ma did."

"What do you mean?"

"Jenny Ann wound up with me instead of Burke."

"I doubt if anyone who knows the two of you would consider you second-best to Burke."

"Well, Jenny Ann loved him."

There was pain in his tone even now, Devlin noted. But then it couldn't be easy to stomach your wife loving an­other man.

"Burke was a damn fool," Riley said with conviction, "for letting her get away. He didn't think she was good enough for him to marry."

Devlin noted the pointed way Jess's father was looking at him. "I assure you," he replied carefully, "the notion that Jess might not be good enough to be my wife never entered my mind."

The moonlight which etched the lines on the older man's forehead showed his concern.

"I realize you only want your daughter's happiness," Devlin added softly, "but you're going to have to let us settle this on our own." He waited for that to sink in. When Riley slowly nodded, Devlin gave a wry smile. "Whatever way it turns out, though, I thank you for your faith in me. It's more than Jess has shown me."

After a moment, Riley sighed. "I just don't want her tied to a loveless marriage."