The Outlaw's Redemption. Renee Ryan

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      Chapter Five

      By late afternoon, the wind had picked up, swirling cold air beneath Annabeth’s collar as she stood on the front porch. She hardly noticed the discomfort. She was too busy watching Hunter’s approach from halfway down the block.

      Just looking at him did something strange to her insides. His walk was all his, a smooth, even gait with easy strides that ate up the ground with remarkable speed. He’d taken off his hat and now held it in his hand, swinging it loosely by his side. His hair was disheveled, as if he’d shoved his fingers through it more than once. Eyes dark with banked emotion added to the whole menacing gunslinger look.

      Helpless against the pull of him, Annabeth sighed. Apparently, she had a thing for the whole menacing gunslinger look.

      He’s not here for you. She told herself this, repeated it several times, but her heart still skipped a few unwelcome beats. And her head grew far too light for her peace of mind.

      A clock from inside the house marked the hour. Four distinct chimes. She’d known he’d arrive on time. Hence the reason she’d taken up her post on the front porch of the orphanage.

      Hunter hadn’t noticed her yet. He looked solemn and maybe a little nervous, his gaze darting around as if he was looking for trouble. Did that come from his former life on the run, that constant checking of his surroundings, even on the safest side of town?

      For some reason, the thought made her sad. Every muscle in Hunter’s back and shoulders seemed tense. He raked a hand through his sand-colored hair and then opened the short wooden gate with a jerk.

      He took a few more steps before his gaze caught hers. He stopped. A silent message filled his amber eyes, one she couldn’t quite decipher. There was a lot going on in the man’s head, and she wasn’t entirely sure all of it had to do with Sarah.

      What was she supposed to do with that?

      She forced a cheerful note in her voice. “Good afternoon, Hunter.”

      He didn’t reply. Just nodded, once, abruptly, then traveled his intense gaze over her face once again. She shifted slightly under the bold perusal. When he still didn’t speak, she sought to still the beating of her heart.

      There was no reason to be alarmed, she told herself. She’d had all day to prepare for this meeting.

      Nevertheless...

      She felt an odd pain in her heart, an ache that had nothing to do with the thought of losing Sarah and everything to do with this man.

      Oh, Lord. Oh, Lord. Whether she was voicing a plea or a prayer, Annabeth wasn’t certain.

      She was, however, convinced that standing out on the porch, staring at Hunter Mitchell like a lovesick cow was getting them nowhere.

      “Come inside,” she said, pleasantness personified. “I have someone I wish for you to meet.”

      * * *

      Annabeth directed Hunter into the house and then down a darkened corridor. Shadows swirled around them as they walked, their footsteps filling the silence between them—hers light and graceful, his clipped and efficient. Despite the nature of this visit, the atmosphere in the quiet house was oddly comforting, as if the orphanage was welcoming Hunter into its world.

      Or maybe it was Annabeth’s presence that was soothing him, little by little. Whatever the cause, a sense of well-being spread through his hollow soul. He didn’t understand how or why, but this woman soothed him. Relaxed his restless heart.

      His throat tightened and he swallowed, hard.

      Not the direction his thoughts should be taking.

      Annabeth led him into a small parlor overlooking the back of the house. Hunter set his hat on the closest chair and moved to the window. He looked out just as a burst of warm, golden light washed over a pack of children at play in the wide, manicured yard. A group of boys was tossing a ball between them, while some girls were holding hands and spinning in a fast circle. Was Sarah among them?

      This time it was his heart that tightened. With expectation, hope, jumpiness.

      “I thought you and Sarah would have your initial meeting here.” Annabeth’s voice came from directly behind him. “Will that be acceptable?”

      He turned slowly around, taking in the parlor with a practiced eye, locating the exits first then the rest of the room in stages. He ignored the fancy furniture, and focused on the textures and nuances. The attention to detail was impossible to miss, the small area elegant and stylish.

      On the surface, this parlor was far too formal a setting to meet a child in for the first time. But if a person looked past the Persian rugs, the expensive furniture, and the crystal vases filled with fresh-cut flowers, there was warmth in the decor.

      Another sense of homecoming filled him. He felt at ease. “This room is perfectly acceptable.”

      Eyes wide, Annabeth’s face went through a series of odd little contortions.

      He stifled a chuckle at her reaction. “You thought I’d find the room too fancy.” He made a point of sitting on the most delicate piece of furniture he could find. “You wanted me to feel uncomfortable.”

      “I... Yes. I suppose I did.” Her cheeks turned a becoming shade of pink as she made the admission.

      Well, well. The timid girl had turned into a scrappy fighter. Rather than finding her tactics insulting, Hunter found himself amused at her attempt to gain the upper hand in such a sneaky manner. And maybe he was a bit impressed, too. Not that she needed to know any of this. In fact, best to keep her on the defense. “Badly done, Annabeth.”

      “Yes, it was. I—” she tangled her fingers together at her waist “—apologize.”

      Feeling gracious, he inclined his head. “Apology accepted.”

      The tension between them lessened. Not that it mattered. He hadn’t come to СКАЧАТЬ