Nan had rounded a corner in the long hallway to find her mother lying on the marble floor in a spreading pool of blood just outside the master suite. Martin Sullivan had stood over his wife, white-faced with anger, his hands knotted into fists.
“You stupid, skinny little cow!” he’d yelled. “The midwife says it was a boy. A son, Helena, finally a son. I swear to God, you can do nothing right.”
“I stayed in bed just as the doctor advised,” Helena cried, her voice weak from blood loss and exhaustion. “It wasn’t my fault, Martin. It just happened.”
“That’s your song, and you sing it so well!” Martin toed his wife’s hip, not putting enough force behind the kick to actually do her physical harm, but jostling her body nevertheless. “Get out of my sight, you useless bitch.”
Nan could still remember how she’d stared down in horror at the spreading pool of her mother’s blood. Yet Helena had struggled to gain her feet, sobbing and begging for her husband’s forgiveness even as she slipped and fell again. Nine months later, Helena had gone into early labor and died giving birth to Laney, another female for Martin Sullivan to despise.
Jerking her thoughts back to the present, Nan gave Gabriel Valance a long, deliberate study. His eyes twinkled in the afternoon light that shone through the window. Try though she might, she could find no glint of cruelty in their dark depths. Even so, she knew only a ruthless man could kill as many times as he had and still feel lighthearted enough to laugh.
With a deliberately cool edge to her voice, Nan said, “I did the kitchen to please myself. Your opinion really doesn’t matter to me.”
He shrugged, still smiling. “Fair enough.” Glancing toward the archway, he asked, “And where does that lead?”
“The sitting room.” Nan moved toward the opening, determined to give him a tour and be done with it. “Expanding into the shop next door provided us with a lot more space upstairs as well. This used to be a tiny sitting area and bedroom, which Laney and I shared, and that was the entirety of our quarters. During the remodel, I focused mainly on our living area, so down that short hallway we now have two bedrooms, a water closet, and another room where I work at night. Laney often has nightmares, so I don’t go back downstairs to my shop after she’s asleep.”
She saw him give the horsehair settee a measuring glance and followed his gaze. He was far too tall to stretch out on it, she realized, and knew he was thinking the same thing.
“What does she have nightmares about?”
Worrying about the coming night’s sleeping arrangements, Nan took a moment to assimilate the question. “Why do you ask?”
“Just curious. With you to mother her and a home as fine as this, I’d think she would be a happy, carefree girl.” He stepped over to the fireplace, glanced at the burgundy parlor chairs at each hearth corner, and then flicked a look at the empty leather sling that she used to bring up wood from the backyard pile each evening. Fingering the gray mortar between two red bricks, he asked, “Does this put out enough heat to keep you cozy on a cold winter night?”
“I keep the fire going in the cookstove most evenings as well. We stay warm enough.”
“It must be an ongoing chore to carry enough loads of wood up that staircase to keep two fires going.”
“Laney helps. Between the two of us, we manage fine.”
He turned from examining the brick to face her again. Her nervous gaze became fixed on the breadth of his shoulders. A suffocating sensation filled her throat. “In other words,” he said with a touch of amusement, “you have absolutely no need of a man in the house.”
Nan supposed she had been a trifle transparent in their exchanges thus far, but if her honesty made him feel unwelcome, that was his burden to bear. She had not entered into this marriage willingly, and she would not pretend she had.
“Absolutely no need of a man at all, Mr. Valance. If it angers you that I refuse to say otherwise, I suppose you can shoot me.” She flicked a glance at his guns. “That is your expertise, correct? Shooting people?”
“I’ve never shot anyone who didn’t try to shoot me first,” he replied. Then he arched a black eyebrow, calling to her mind the shape of a raven’s wing. “And from this moment on, my name is Gabe. If you prefer, you can call me Gabriel. But I don’t think it’s fitting for you to address me formally any longer.”
Nan couldn’t argue the point. Laney would be home soon, and somehow Nan had to protect the child from the harsh realities of this impossible situation. Laney was a spirited girl and could easily become feisty if she thought Nan might be in peril.
“How am I going to explain this mess to my sister?” Nan asked him.
His firm lips tipped into a crooked grin. “Well, now, I’m thinking you should tell her the truth: that I came into your shop, asked you to marry me, and you simply couldn’t bring yourself to say no.”
“Laney will never believe that. She’s heard me say too many times that I have no use for men and that I abhor the institution of marriage.”
“You’d better make it convincing then. Otherwise I’ll have two wet hens pecking at me, and my patience may wear thin.”
“And if your patience wears thin?” Nan forced herself to look him directly in the eye. “I truly didn’t mean to harm Horace Barclay. His death was an accident. But I will tell you right now, if you ever harm Laney, by word or by action, I’ll kill you without blinking an eye.”
He nodded. “If I hurt your sister, by word or by action, I’ll help you slit my own throat.”
That wasn’t the response Nan had expected. Mentally teetering, she wasn’t prepared when he added, “Now that we’ve got that covered, we should spend what remains of our time alone discussing our sleeping arrangements.”
Nan gulped. “You may sleep on the settee or the floor.”
A muscle began to tic in his jaw. “Not on your life. We’re man and wife. We’ll share a bed.”
“But you said you had no intention—”
“And I meant it,” he inserted, cutting off her protests. “But that’s where I draw the line. If you insist, I’ll sleep in my trousers, but that’s all the compromise I’m willing to make on that front.”
Nan realized that her arms had gone stiff at her sides and that her hands were knotted into painful fists, her nails digging into her palms. “Do you truly think I’m so naive that I believe you won’t force yourself on me? Until this marriage is consummated, I can have it annulled at any time. You don’t strike me as being a stupid man. You’ve surely considered that and plan to make this union legally binding as soon as you possibly can.”
He turned toward the sitting room window, which looked out over the main street of town. “I’m content to leave things as they stand.” He drew his watch from his pocket and perused its face. “Hamm’s office should still be open. You’re free to head out of here and file for an annulment before he closes up shop, if you like. The same goes for tomorrow, and the day after that.”
Nan felt suddenly cold and hugged her waist. “The instant I filed for an annulment, you’d pay a visit to the marshal’s office and have me arrested! I’m not that stupid, Mr. Valance.”
“Gabe—or Gabriel,” he corrected. Then he slipped the watch back into his pocket and flashed her a grin over his shoulder. “I’d say we’re off to a good start, darlin’. We clearly understand each other. That’s more than a lot of couples can say after twenty long years of marriage.”
Nan couldn’t recall ever having hated anyone quite so much. She parted her lips to fling a nasty retort at him, but just then she heard the shop bell ring, and an instant later Laney’s light footsteps sounded on the stairs.
“Well?” he said, challenging her with his gaze. “I see no point in burdening that child with this, so either slap a smile on your face or make tracks for Hamm’s office.”
Nan forced her arms from around her waist, sent him a look tha
t she hoped sliced through him like a knife, and then turned just as the apartment door flew open. When Laney bounded into the kitchen, Nan was beaming a smile that made her face feel as if it might crack.
Chapter Six
Gabe had taken a chair at the far end of the kitchen table as Laney Hoffman entered the apartment and closed the door. He hoped he wouldn’t seem as intimidating if he was seated. Wearing a dark green dress, intricately pleated at the bodice and trimmed with pearl-like beads at the throat and cuffs, along with black patent-leather slippers with arch straps sporting shiny bows, the girl was window-display perfect from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She greatly resembled Nan, with the same ivory skin, delicate features, lovely gray eyes, and golden hair. At twelve she was still coltishly thin, with only the merest hint of budding breasts, but Gabe knew she’d be a beauty soon who’d turn men’s heads just as her sister did now.
Gabe sensed, however, that the striking resemblance ran only skin deep. There was a spark in Laney’s eyes that Nan’s lacked, and as the girl listened to Nan’s disjointed, high-pitched, nervous explanation of how her sudden marriage to Gabe had come about that morning, Laney gave him a glare hot enough to melt sand and make glass. Laney wasn’t buying a word of her sister’s jerky explanations, and Gabe didn’t blame the kid. Nan was the most abysmally unconvincing liar he’d ever encountered. Interesting. He filed a mental note to remember that his wife fluttered her hands, got a squeak in her larynx, and couldn’t look a person in the eye when she spouted falsehoods.
After concluding her spiel, Nan gestured for Laney to sit down, and then started bustling around the sunny yellow kitchen, putting on a pot of coffee, warming a pan of milk for hot cocoa, and arranging cookies she’d baked last night on a serving tray. Aside from Nan’s twittered comments, directed over her shoulder as she worked, the silence was so marked that Gabe noted for the first time that the sitting room wall clock had an unusually loud tick. Laney, perched stiffly on a chair at the opposite end of the table, kept her gaze fixed on him, and to say her expression was filled with hostility would have been an understatement. He’d seen friendlier looks slanted down the barrel of a pistol.
Soon Nan was ready to serve the after-school beverages and treats. Because the recipients of her offerings sat so far apart, she arranged cookies on two dessert plates and then poured Gabe a cup of coffee and Laney some cocoa. Gabe eyed the dainty teacup she’d set before him, hoping his forefinger wouldn’t get stuck in the tiny handle.
“There we go!” Nan said brightly. “As you two enjoy the afternoon snack, perhaps you can become better acquainted while I go down to the shop to lock up and count down my till.”
That suited Gabe just fine. Judging by the fire in Laney’s eyes, he figured she had a peck of words backed up in her throat and that they would rain upon his head like bits of ice in a hailstorm the instant Nan left the room.
After the door closed, Laney sat stock-still, listening to Nan’s receding footsteps on the stairs. The instant the sounds indicated that Nan was down in the shop, well out of earshot, Laney leaned over her cookie plate, her dimpled chin, so very like Nan’s, jutting at him like that of a prizefighter asking for a solid punch. “That was a stupid pack of lies, every word of it!” she cried. “She doesn’t want any man mucking up her life, never has and never will, and if she ever changed her mind and decided to get married, it wouldn’t be to someone like you.” Gabe nearly winced as that barb struck home, but before he could get his mouth open to defend himself, Laney rushed on. “Do either of you really think I’m dumb enough to believe this?”
He definitely didn’t think the girl lacked intelligence. Just by searching her gaze, Gabe could see that she was sharper than a new tack. “Your sister didn’t lie,” he offered. “It sounds incredible, Laney, but that’s what happened. Every word Nan said is the absolute truth. I did come into the shop this morning. I did offer for her hand. And just as she told you, she couldn’t say no.”
Laney’s eyes widened until they looked as big as half-dollars. She couldn’t have looked more horrified—or more frightened—if he’d suddenly turned into a scorpion. “My sister?”
Oh, shit. He never should have referred to Nan as the child’s sister. Everyone in Random believed that Laney was Nan’s daughter. “Well . . .” he began.
“You know! Don’t say otherwise! And somehow you coerced her into marrying you because of it! You know everything!” She was practically screaming. And everybody in town was going to know if he didn’t manage to get her to calm down and shut up.
“Yeah, okay, I know everything. You’re right, absolutely right. But if you don’t quit yelling, Nan will be flying up here in a panic. Give me a second here, okay?”
Laney subsided, but he had a feeling it was only temporary. Her use of the word coerce didn’t surprise him. Most kids would have fallen back on something simpler and more commonly used, but he suspected that Laney had an impressive vocabulary for a twelve-year-old and could spell every word correctly. Gabe had studied hard on his own after old widow Harper died, and over the years, he’d developed a handshake relationship with proper English. He could read almost anything, and use bigger words than he’d ever once imagined, but his spelling was still on the downside of passable. Laney Hoffman made him feel like a sow’s ear sitting across from a silk purse.
A stare-down ensued, and Gabe used the seconds that passed to weigh the situation. He’d never been much good at lying, not because it was a religious issue for him, but more because he considered himself to be an honorable sort, and telling falsehoods, in his estimation, was unethical. If a man wasn’t as good as his word, he wasn’t worth the powder it’d take to blow him to hell.
But his reluctance to lie to Laney went deeper than that. Gabe knew a straight shooter when he met one, and this girl was exactly that: a person who said what was on her mind, minced no words, and let the chips fall where they might. She deserved better than lies from him. Even worse, Gabe doubted he could get creative enough with a story to make her believe it anyway.
“You’re right,” he finally admitted again. “I know everything about your sister’s past, and I used that knowledge to force her to marry me. I told her that if she refused, I’d go to the marshal, reveal her true identity, and have her arrested.”
If he’d expected Laney to be scared at the idea of exposure, he’d figured wrong. Bright spots of angry color sprang to her cheeks. “Why? Are you hoping to lie around here, being good for nothing, while she supports you with her income from the shop?”
Gabe almost smiled. “I don’t need your sister to support me, cupcake. I have so much money stashed away in a Kansas City bank that I could live in high style until I’m an old man without ever turning my hand to an honest day’s work.”
Her brows, which, like Nan’s, were several shades darker than her golden hair, snapped together in a scowl. “Oh, sure you do. If that was true you’d have no need to force some woman to marry you. If you have that much money, you could find a wife on your own. So what do you want with Nan, anyhow? A man like you usually consorts with saloon girls, not proper ladies like my mama. And don’t call me cupcake!”
Gabe lifted the coffee cup to his lips to hide a grin. She had spunk, no doubt about it. “A man like me?” He took a slow swallow. “All that glitters is not gold, little lady, and the same goes for anything that appears to be all dark.”
After he spoke, he saw a shift of emotion in Laney’s eyes, but it quickly vanished, to be replaced by anger again. “Are you saying I shouldn’t judge you, Mr. Valance? You’re a gunslinger. I heard about your being in town at school today. A boy who went home for lunch got it straight from his father that you ate breakfast in the hotel dining room this morning.”
“Yes, I’m a gunslinger,” Gabe conceded. “And one of some repute, I might add. That doesn’t mean I like being what I am or that I ever wanted this kind of life for myself.” Gabe gave
her a brief overview of his history, much as he had for Nan that morning. “Sometimes our lives can change direction at the turn of a leaf or the shift of a breeze,” he finished. “We don’t see it coming, but one incident can change everything.”
“Like what happened to Nan when she accidentally killed that fat old man?”
Gabe was heartened by the softening of Laney’s expression. “Exactly like that, only for each person, the pivotal moment is caused by different things.”
“How’d you learn to use a word like pivotal if you never went to school?” she asked.
Gabe allowed himself to smile slightly. “An old widow who’d once been a schoolmarm took me under her wing for about a year and did her best to smarten me up.”
“You didn’t learn words like that in a year.”
“No, but living with her for that short time opened up the world of books for me, and after she died, I hungered to learn more, so I studied on my own.”
“So you’re self-taught.”
“More or less.”
Laney took a bite of cookie and pocketed the morsel in her cheek. Her gaze locked with his, offering him no quarter. “I don’t believe what you said about marrying my sister to get a taste of how it feels to live like other folks. I’m sort of starting to like you, Mr. Valance. But like you say, things can change fast, and I can start hating you again real quick if you try to blow smoke in my eyes.”
Gabe had to laugh at that, and with some surprise, he realized that he was starting to like her, too. “If I told you the real truth, Laney, you’d never believe it.”
“Try me,” she challenged.
Gabe was tempted—oh, how badly he was tempted. But it was a crazy, incredible story that he still couldn’t quite believe himself. He finished his coffee in two big gulps, intending to end the conversation by going down to help Nan in the shop. But as he set the dainty little cup back on the saucer and pushed to his feet, he remembered the last bit of advice that the angel Gabriel had given him. Listen to your heart.