Blind Tiger

“She wanted out of there, all right. But where can she go?”

“I’m willing to take her in. She’ll have a place to live, and I’ll pay her a modest salary to work for me. With Irv incapacitated, I could use the extra help with my business. Corrine is eager to improve her lot in life.”

“Sounds good all around, but it seems sudden.”

“Well, she was suddenly foisted on me, wasn’t she? I thought you would be relieved. This will free you from any responsibility you feel toward her.”

“Not entirely.” He hitched his chin toward the bedroom. “How’s Corrine feel about this arrangement?”

“Irv is talking it over with her now. He’s confident that she’ll jump at the chance, and so am I. It’s certainly preferable to the situation she was in at Lefty’s.”

“How’d she wind up there? Did she tell you?”

“She was naïve and trusting of a man. She’s paying the consequences of having stars in her eyes. They can be blinding.” She looked down at her open palm and ran her other thumb over the pinprick in the center. Then she dropped her hand and hid it in a fold of her skirt, as though she’d been caught with it in the cookie jar.

“I shouldn’t have let you kiss me last night, Mr. Hutton. But neither should you have taken advantage of me when I was in such a state, so we were both at fault for things getting out of hand. Don’t even think of it ever happening again. The incident will never be mentioned. We’ll pretend that it didn’t happen. No, we’ll forget that it happened.”

He didn’t say anything. She didn’t look into his face but continued to stare straight ahead at the button on his shirt to which she’d issued the ultimatum about pretending and forgetting. He waited her out. Finally, she tilted her head back and met his eyes. “That’s how it’s going to be.”

“Is that right?”

She went rigid with indignation and made a sound of disgust. “I knew you’d be difficult about it.”

She elbowed him aside and went out into the yard. She strode over to the horse. The gelding shied, taking several cautious steps backward. She untied the reins from around the post, then tugged on them until the reluctant horse went along as she led him over to Thatcher.

“Here.” She held out the reins. “Goodbye.”

Thatcher took the reins, then caught her hand and walked her backward until she came up against the gelding’s side, the back of her head resting against the seat of the saddle. Thatcher cupped the horn with his left hand and placed his right on the cantle, bracketing her with his arms.

He could tell the action shocked her, but he didn’t give her time to counter. “You’ve said your piece, now I’m going to say mine. I like the look of you. Have since I first laid eyes on you. That soft spot right there where your lips meet was the first place I wanted to kiss.”

He homed in on that spot, then his eyes trailed down her front and back up again. “I like the size and shape of you. I like everything. Even your sass. Mostly your sass,” he said, his gaze dipping briefly to her lips again before returning to her eyes.

“As for not thinking about that kiss ever happening again, I’ve already thought about it. And more. I think about you unbuttoned and unhooked and with your hair loose. I have dreams where we’re lying down together, and I hate like hell waking up.”

He shifted his stance, still not touching her, but coming awfully close, and it was hard as hell not to give in to the urge to bring them flush like they’d been last night. “Now, Laurel, I’ve never taken advantage of a woman in my life. You damn well know that I didn’t take advantage of you last night, and I won’t. Ever.”

He dropped his voice so she’d have to listen really close to this last part, because it was an ultimatum of his own. “But if you genuinely don’t want me coming at you again, be careful you don’t dare me.”

He gave the words seconds to sink in, then lowered his hands from the saddle, moved her aside, put his boot in the stirrup, and swung up. He nudged the gelding with his knees and rode out of the yard without looking back.

* * *

Thatcher had another difficult encounter ahead of him this morning. He’d said what he’d wanted to say to Laurel, but in doing so had probably offended her beyond any hope of ever making amends. But if he had it to do over again, he’d say the same.

He feared things wouldn’t go any better with Bill Amos.

The sheriff’s car wasn’t parked out front of the department, but Thatcher went inside to check if he was there. Three personnel were inside, but Harold was the only one Thatcher knew by name. All stopped what they were doing when he walked in.

Harold said, “Sheriff’s not here.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“At home.”

“I have business with him.”

“What kind of business?”