Page 10 of A Dangerous Heart (Wind River Mail-Order Brides #4)

“You can’t marry a marshal. Barlows don’t tangle with the law. That’s what Pa always said.” Eli’s mention of Victor was like touching a cactus.

They couldn’t stay in town. Isaac was no longer working as a U.S. marshal, but his reputation followed him, clung to him—just like her own.

“We will talk about it later,” she said, as Pearl reappeared with the peach pie in hand.

She served the pie, then busied herself clearing a table by the window.

Clare’s eyes trailed after her and caught sight of Isaac through the square panes of the front window.

He stood on the boardwalk between the dance hall and the saloon.

All the worries pressing in on her squeezed until she couldn’t breathe. She had to try once more.

“Eat your pie,” Clare told both boys. She set a firm hand on Eli’s shoulder and waited for him to meet her eyes. “Watch your brother. Stay here. Understand?”

Both boys nodded, but Eli’s expression was flat and unreadable.

Outside, a lively uproar spilled from the saloon.

At the dance hall next to the saloon, someone plunked a tinny piano with a heavy hand.

She made a beeline toward Isaac. He lifted his chin, and his gaze brushed over her.

She slid her hand into her pocket and clutched his letter.

She’d carried it with her to town as her backup plan, remembering that Quade had said it was a binding contract.

What kind of person would use it against the McGraws?

A Barlow. An evil person. She didn’t want to blackmail Isaac.

The McGraws had been good to her and the boys, opened their home, shared their meals.

She liked them. Well, all of them except the enigmatic man now a few feet in front of her.

Her feelings for him were…she didn’t know.

One thing was for certain: he’d be furious if she forced him into marriage.

The swinging doors of the saloon burst open. Shouts and commotion spilled out onto the street.

Bang!

A sharp crack split the air. Clare jolted, muscles tensing as her mind struggled to make sense of the chaos unfolding. A cowboy stumbled out to the edge of the boardwalk, teetered, then fell on his face. The gun in his hand discharged. The bullet hit the street, and a cloud of dirt erupted.

The echo of that gunshot gripped Clare’s very core.

The past seeped into the present and conjured up the painful memory she had tried so desperately to bury.

Her brother Billy’s face, frozen in time, materialized before her, his eyes wide with the same shock she felt now.

Blood bloomed on his shirt. The street where he’d fallen, the shadows cast by the buildings—every detail was etched into Clare’s consciousness.

Her breath hitched, caught in a stranglehold. Time stretched and a disorienting haze settled over her senses. Every nerve screamed with the urge to run. Yet her feet remained rooted to the spot.

“Clare.” A hand closed over her elbow, breaking her from the memory.

“Clare, look at me.”

He’d finally said her name.

And she’d never heard his voice so gentle.

“How about we move across the street and away from this ruckus?” He didn’t wait for an answer, just led her across the street with that gentle hand beneath her elbow. Her knees were wobbly, and as they crossed the street, she let herself lean into his warmth and strength.

Instead of going into the hotel dining room, he led her around the side of the building and off the street. Her back was to the clapboard siding of the hotel when he released her. She leaned against it for support and closed her eyes.

“I think it’s time for you to tell me the truth about why you answered that mail-order bride ad,” he said.

She slowly opened her eyes, bracing herself for an onslaught of harsh accusations. But instead, he looked at her with genuine concern.

“I already told you. The boys and I needed a fresh start,” Clare hedged.

His eyes never left her face. “That was pure terror back there.”

She couldn’t hold his gaze. He saw too much.

“The boys are inside the dining room alone,” she said, hoping to distract him. The last time they’d been left alone, Eli had ended up in a fight. “I need to check on them.” She pushed away from the wall, but he boxed her in.

“What are you running from?” he demanded softly.

Another question she couldn’t answer.

“My family has helped you. I think we deserve the truth. What are you running from?”

She didn’t know what to do with this Isaac.

“My pa was a violent man,” she blurted, closing her eyes against the memories.

“I spent my childhood trying to appease him. He was not a good man. When he was home, he was mean and lazy. He seemed to delight in punishing every small infraction. An accidental spill could get me backhanded. Let the fire get too low? The whole day would be spent finding kindling and splitting logs. My best bet was to stay out of his way. Especially when he was drinking.”

The memories and the constant fear echoed inside her. Tears pooled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She swept a palm over her cheeks to quickly wipe them away.

“I couldn’t watch the boys live like that.” She hiked up her chin. “The truth is, I’m not their mother. I’m their aunt.”

His expression didn’t flicker. She rushed on, knowing she had to just get it all out.

“My brother has a hair-trigger temper and a reputation for cruelty, just like my father. Maybe even worse. He likes to pull his gun to scare people into giving him what he wants—even his family.”

Isaac’s jaw hardened.

The weight of it all settled on her shoulders like an iron yoke, cold and heavy. She shivered. Maybe she should just tell him everything. She was never going to outrun the Barlow name.

Blood will out.

Her father’s words rang in her ears. She tried to believe Anne. That God would make a way. She met Isaac’s intense scrutiny and sighed.

“I promised Anne, the boys’ mother, on her deathbed that I’d keep the boys safe.” She bit her lip, wondering just how much to tell him.

“And the mail-order bride ad?”

“Anne believed it was providential. She’s the one who saw your ad. Prompted me to answer. She died, the boys’ father went off to drink, and I…I needed to get away while the getting was good. I already had one train ticket, so I purchased two more, and here we are.”

“You lied.”

She grimaced.

“But I guess I can see why.” He folded his arms across his chest. “You’re not married?”

She shook her head, wished she could read him.

“I need some time to get us on our feet. We can’t go back to the farm.

There’s nothing there.” Was he softening?

The light in his eyes had changed somehow.

“My brother is more dangerous than ever.” She pressed her back against the rough clapboard wall, feeling the wood dig into her skin as she took a steadying breath.

“I can’t let Eli become like his father. I made a promise to Anne.”

Isaac put his hands on his hips and looked her full in the face. “People in town are already talking about you and the fact that we didn’t get married when you first arrived.”

“I know.”

His brows rose. She cocked a brow in return. Did he think she hadn’t heard the whispers or seen the knowing looks?

“If you stay on the ranch, they’re gonna talk more.”

Clare sucked in a breath. Held it as hope rose inside her.

Isaac looked away. A muscle in his jaw jumped. She waited, still not breathing.

“My brothers want to fix me.”

She saw the flicker in his eyes, a long-buried hurt, and let out her breath.

“Do you need to be fixed?” she asked carefully.

A flash of fire lit his usually cool green eyes. “If I bring you back to the ranch, I don’t want them to get the wrong idea,” he said, his tone quiet and serious.

She bit her lip. “Maybe my being on the ranch could be a distraction. Maybe they’d leave you alone.”

He stared at her. She caught a shadow of something moving across his face. He turned his face away momentarily. “Not likely,” he sighed. “What do you have in mind?”

“We could pretend we’re considering getting married. Like we already told—” She swallowed back the name Quade. “It might buy us both some time to figure out what to do.”

He paused. A resigned sigh escaped him as he straightened his shoulders. “All right. I’ll play my part. A man who is considering marriage to a mail-order bride. And you play yours, the prospective bride who hangs on my every word.”

She blinked and choked on a broken laugh.

“I mean it, you’ll do as I say.” He sent her a serious look. “And no more secrets.”