the corner looking about as invisible as a two hundred–pound frog, but she didn’t care. This morning he was her knight in shining armor.
She greeted her guests, offered them food and coffee. The room was almost full when Michael walked in. He didn’t seem to see anyone in the room but her. He walked right up to her, circled her waist, and kissed her forehead with tenderness.
Two wranglers she recognized as having worked for her father for years followed a step behind Michael like war lieutenants storming into battle.
“It will all be over soon,” he whispered to her. “Until we have time to talk, these men will be on watch.”
She looked into his blue-gray eyes and saw worry. Something had changed, but her father’s funeral was no time to talk.
“It’ll be all right,” he said, brushing his hand over her arm.
She had no idea what he was talking about, but she believed he’d keep her safe. She’d picked an outlaw to trust, and somehow, he’d proved worth the loving.
She remembered the way he’d readied her for bed last night. He’d carried her to her room, tugged off her shoes, and pulled the pins from her hair. He’d even slid his hand beneath her skirts and removed the small Colt strapped to her leg just as he had the night before. Only last night she thought she remembered his fingers lingering longer along the soft flesh above her knee. When he’d unbuttoned a few buttons of her blouse, his knuckles had traveled down the valley between her breasts.
She’d moaned softly meaning to pull away, but his gentle touch calmed her. The next time his hand moved between her breasts, he’d caught her moan in his kiss.
He’d done everything almost exactly like he’d done the night before, only last night he hadn’t slept on top of the covers. They both might have been fully clothed, but they’d slept with their bodies pressed together.
As before, when she’d awoke, he was gone. She’d found him downstairs making all the plans for the funeral.
Now, as people passed by to tell her of their sadness over the death of her father, Michael did exactly what he’d signed on to do. He acted the part of the perfect husband.
He even walked her to her room when all had left. She was surprised he’d ordered tea and sandwiches for her. With one kiss, he ordered her to rest. When he left, she had no doubt one of his uncles was just outside the door.
Chapter 8
As the day passed, Michael checked on his sleeping wife several times before he finally settled in the study to work. A few of the ranch hands he’d become friends with dropped by to offer suggestions on what needed to be done on the ranch. With the Duke’s illness and Raymond only doing what had to be done, much had been neglected.
Michael took the men’s advice but knew he’d have to check the books himself. No one could find the bookkeeper named Fiddler or remember exactly when he’d left. Michael noticed there were slight changes in the printing of numbers starting about four weeks ago. The handwriting was close, but whoever had started keeping the books had a heavier hand.
The nurse passed in front of the desk at dusk and lit the lamps. Michael barely noticed. What he was discovering in the accounts of the ranch was shocking. For the last six months, since Uncle Raymond had been helping run the place, small amounts of money had gone missing. Sometimes bills were double paid while others went weeks on the books without any payment. Each month the amount disappearing off the books grew.
Then, the last month, the month before Duke Camanez died, nothing went missing. Apparently, Raymond was so sure he would inherit, he’d stopped stealing.
Michael frowned, wondering if the answer more likely might be that whoever was stealing feared being caught.
“Sir?” the nurse said softly as she lifted her bag.
Michael glanced up unsure whom she was talking to, but she was looking straight at him. “Yes?” he managed.
“If you don’t mind I’ll leave now. I’ve packed up all the doctor’s things.”
“Thank you,” Michael said. “Thank you for being so kind.”
She hesitated, then added, “If you and the missus need me when the baby births, I’ll be happy to come.”
“You know about the baby?” He couldn’t believe Cozette would tell anyone.
“I’ve seen the signs, but don’t you worry about me saying anything. The first one sometimes comes early. Nobody will count the months. You