One Texas Night - By Jodi Thomas Page 0,28

a habit of crossing folks if I can help it, and it’s been years since I even had a heated discussion with anyone.”

“Try and think,” she coached. “Who lately would benefit from your being hurt or dead? Who has threatened you?”

“Nobody but Potter Stockton on the way back to town the other night. He told me I’d be wise to get on the train and forget about you, because I must know you’d never come.” Hank told the account in passing, nothing important, he thought . . . until he saw Aggie’s face. “You can’t believe Stockton would send someone to hurt me? Sure, he was probably disappointed when he learned you left with me, maybe even mad. But mad enough to try and kill me?”

Aggie nodded. “On the way to the station, Charlie told me he was glad I didn’t pick Potter even though Dolly thought he was the best choice. Charlie said he heard Potter beat a man near to death one night after losing a few dollars in a poker game. He said the railroad man had gunfighter eyes—cold and hard as casket wood.”

Hank raised a doubtful eyebrow. “But Charlie still invited him to dinner?”

Aggie shook her head. “He only invited the banker and told him that if he knew a man looking for a wife, to bring a friend along.”

That explained Charlie’s coldness to Potter Stockton, but Hank still found it hard to believe any man would try to kill another over a woman he’d just met.

Then he looked at Aggie with her beautiful hair and shining eyes and he knew it must be true.

“When did the man insist on having a drink with you?” she asked.

Hank tried to remember exactly the order. “He was standing behind me when I bought our two tickets.”

Aggie frowned. “So he knew you were expecting me?”

“He also knew I didn’t have time to wander over to the saloon.”

She leaned closer. “Do you think, when the offer for drinks didn’t work, that he pulled the knife thinking one way or the other he’d make sure you missed the train?”

Hank didn’t want to admit it, but she made sense. The fellow hadn’t acted all that drunk at first, then as soon as he’d slipped the knife over Hank’s arm, he’d run away. “Maybe,” Hank admitted. “He knew if I wasn’t at the station you wouldn’t be going anywhere that night.”

Aggie finished the thought. “And if you weren’t there, I would have turned around and gone back to Dolly and Charlie’s place.”

Their eyes met. Hank felt like he could read her thoughts. There was no need to continue piecing the puzzle; they’d both seen the picture it made.

Lacing her fingers together, she leaned an inch closer and whispered as if saying her words too loud might make them come true. “Do you think the hired gun might come back?”

Hank wished he could say no, but he didn’t want to lie to her. “He might,” was the best he could do.

Aggie swallowed and nodded. “Then, would you mind if I slept in next to you? I’d planned on making a pallet in the kitchen, but I’d feel safer here.”

Hank wouldn’t have trusted any words. He simply lifted the covers beside him.

She smiled and joined him.

When he stretched and turned out the light, she whispered, “Thank you, dear.” As if he’d done her a favor.

Hank wouldn’t have been surprised if lightning came through the second floor and struck him any moment. He wasn’t worried about anyone trying to kill him; his shy little wife was going to give him a heart attack by doing something as simple as trusting him.

This time she didn’t wait for him to pull her next to him. She snuggled against him and laid her hand on his bare chest.

Then, before he could think to breathe, she laughed.

He covered her hand with his. “What’s so funny?”

“Your chest hair tickles.”

“Aggie?” His fingers stilled her hand.

“Yes, dear?” she answered.

“Kiss me good night,” he whispered as she looked up.

This time, when his mouth covered hers, he couldn’t hold back. He had to kiss her the way a man kisses a woman . . . the way a man kisses his wife.

His arm pulled her against him. The thin layer of flannel did little to mask the feel of her. He kissed her long and hard, drinking her in, needing to end the drought in his life, needing to need another.

When he finally let her go, Hank rolled an inch away and tried to think

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