up Josie. “Be good and I’ll bring you some soup. Right, Miss Mary?”
“How about meat?” he asked hopefully. The gurgle in his stomach wasn’t getting any quieter. A man needed something to stick to his ribs.
“You’ll get what’s best for you.” Mary shot him a quiet smile as she ushered Josie out the door.
“Wait,” he called out.
She paused at the door, but Josie ran off. He heard the pitter-patter of her feet, and then she yelled for James in a voice that could wake a corpse in its grave. Even though seeing her pained him in ways he didn’t want to explore, he couldn’t help the reluctant tilt that grabbed his lips and wouldn’t let go.
“She’s something.”
“Yes, she is.” Mary cleared her throat. “Was there anything else?”
“Just keep talking to her. Soon as I can get up I’ll take her into town. Find her a safe house.”
“She’s my responsibility, Lou. I’m praying about what to do.”
He arched a brow at her and she had the grace to flush.
“I’m sure God wants me to find her family,” she said. “In the meantime, I want to take care of her.”
“God doesn’t need to be brought into this. Do the right thing.”
“I will.” Eyes flashing, she shut the door harder than necessary.
He sighed and relaxed against the pillow, just now realizing how tense his muscles had become. How long did he have to stay in this sickbed? Why, the last time he’d been wounded he’d been down only a few days and then a new case cropped up and he’d headed out.
But a week had passed this time, and he still couldn’t sit up without feeling dizzier than a bootlegger spending too much time in a speakeasy. If he stayed here much longer... He didn’t think he could take much more of Mary’s God talk. Let alone seeing Josie every day.
This wasn’t a good place for the little girl. That man was looking for her, and he’d be back. They needed to find her mother and a different place so no harm would come to her.
And then there was Mary. After being kidnapped, sold by Trevor’s mother, Julia, surely she should see that God didn’t care anything for her or her life. It was a lesson he himself had learned the hard way. He just hoped the whole situation with Josie didn’t deal Mary too harsh a blow. Maybe he’d warn her somehow. Soften the news.
Smothering an oath, he shifted position. Why should he warn her? The idea suddenly struck him as pompous. Who was he anyway?
Just a federal agent who wanted nothing to do with God, women or kids. And now he was stuck with all three.
* * *
Never had Mary met a more grumpy man than a bedridden Lou Riley. Gritting her teeth, she carried his breakfast tray up to his room, Josie tagging behind her.
“After this can we go see the horses? And the cows, too? I’ve never touched a cow. Can I touch a cow, Mary? Just one time?”
“We’ll see,” said Mary. We’ll see had become her answer to Josie’s constant questions. Was it safe to let a little girl near the cows? She’d learned to ride horses at a young age, but probably not as young as Josie. The girl had proudly told her and James last night at dinner that she was five years old, almost six. A smile tugged at Mary’s mouth. She looked down at Josie, who was marching past her on the steps, stretching her little legs to skip a step at a time.
“Be careful you don’t trip on your new dress,” she reminded her. The past few nights had been spent creating a wardrobe for Josie. She’d loved every stitch.
“I’m not gonna trip.” Josie stood at the top, arms folded proudly across her chest. “Can I take Mister Lou his breakfast?”
“You’ll stay in the hall.”
“But I miss him.”
Mary balanced the tray on her hip while fumbling for the doorknob. What should she say to such a sweet comment when it was obvious Lou felt uncomfortable with Josie? “I’d really like to get the kitchen cleaned up so we can go outside. Maybe you could sweep the floor?”
“By myself?” Josie’s face brightened. Her arms swung back and forth, and then she started hopping on one foot.
“Absolutely.” Mary grinned. Could children see past a distraction? Josie didn’t seem to. “You did a wonderful job practicing with me the past few nights. It’s time to put your skills to use.”
“Yay!” She spun, twirling the skirt of her spring-green skirt. She leaped down the stairs so quickly a little hiccup of fear filled Mary’s throat.
When Josie disappeared from view, safe from the treacherous descent, Mary tried the doorknob again. The door swung open, and she sidled in. “Breakfast.”
“Lots of bacon, I hope.” Lou stared at her from where he sat propped against the headboard. The sickening pallor that had tinged his skin the first week was now gone. He looked much healthier.
And too handsome for his own good. Or hers.
A rush of longing pulsed through Mary. She missed Lou’s ready smile, the twinkle he usually handed out so generously. The longer he was cooped up, though, the more it felt as if he disliked her.
Even now he wouldn’t meet her eyes. Perhaps it was better this way. Better to break off her dependency on him before he left again on a new assignment. Gaze downcast, she focused on getting the food settled on his side table. Clinking filled the room, and the sound of their breaths, quiet and steady.
So be it, she thought grimly.
Ignoring him, she went to the curtains and pulled them open. Sunlight poured in, a giant wave of light that bathed the room. The sound of rustling followed by Lou sipping his coffee pounded against her ears. Normally she loved silence. Reveled in its clean reliability.
Not now. Lou didn’t know how not to talk. The silence in this room clouded her peace, its unnaturalness filling her with disquiet. She risked a glance his way, her heart thudding in her chest.
He was watching her.
Hair disheveled, eyes like sapphires in the morning light, his gaze trained so deeply on her that a pleasant shiver cut to her very core. She swallowed hard and broke the connection.
“You stare at me,” she said, gaze trained on the wall behind him.
“Do you mind?”
“It is...odd.” But not unwelcome. The realization startled her. She turned her back to him, whisking to the closet and pretending to look through his clothes. “Are you in need of anything laundered?”
“Mary—” Lou’s voice broke off on a ragged note.
“Yes?” As if against her own will, she found herself facing him across the room. She was too aware of the pulse slamming through her veins, too aware of terror, and something different, something unnamed, working in her throat.
At that moment, James poked his head past the open door and gave a gruff throat clear before looking at Lou.
“Telegram,” he said. He shuffled in and flipped a small white envelope onto Lou’s lap. He glanced at Mary. “You got a young’un dusting up a bunch of dirt in the kitchen. You know that?”
Oh, no. Darting the men an apologetic smile, she raced out the door. By the time she reached the kitchen, she felt calm enough to dismiss Lou’s strange perusal from her mind and focused her attention on the sprite standing in the middle of the kitchen, a cheeky grin on her face.
Mary stopped at the entrance, her gaze scanning the room. Everything looked fine. Shining floor, broom propped against the wall. She relaxed.
“Well, it looks as though you’ve done a marvelous job.