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the restaurant in a flurry of movement. He groaned and tossed money on the table to cover the food. He’d really bungled this.

Maybe she wasn’t planning a liaison, but he’d seen Langdon look at her. He’d seen her paleness. Didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. She might not plan to give in to Langdon’s advances, but Lou had met his type before.

If someone didn’t step in, Langdon would try to force himself on Mary, and she would never be the same.

Lou spun on his heel and stalked out of the restaurant. Yes, he had a shooter to catch and a ranch to sell and a new employment opportunity, but Mary meant more to him than material things. And so did Josie.

This so-called deal put them in danger, and he would do whatever it took to stop it.

The nerve of that man!

Mary strode the streets, brushing past people as she worked to clear the steam from her head. How could he think such a thing of her? Did he really believe she’d ever put herself in that position? Perhaps this plan could use some finessing and it might require a bit of dodging, but she hoped for the optimum.

To raise Josie as her own.

A breeze rustled up against her and waltzed with her skirt. She should have brought a sweater of some sort. Oregon’s personality was moody, and chill bumps rose on her arms in reaction to the cool wind.

Or maybe it was the thought of having a family. Though her heart ached for Josie, knowing the child’s mother might pass soon, Mr. Langdon had assured her that there were no living relatives, no one to claim Josie. Without him, she would be put into an orphanage. Mary couldn’t abide such a thought. Perhaps her own childhood had been unstable. Constantly moving, a father who was in and out of her life physically, a mother who was emotionally in and out, but there’d been many times of love. There’d been food and clean clothes.

She’d seen orphanages, but worse, she’d heard tales of them. Many of the prostitutes her mother worked with came from these places. Many had been more girl than woman.

A shudder swept through her.

No. Mr. Langdon and the orphanages wouldn’t get her sweet girl. His plans for Josie were vile enough to let her know that when Josie’s mother died, the girl would be in harm’s way. Mr. Langdon’s wicked plan had to be an answer to prayer. God could use evil and turn it to good. Perhaps that was His plan for her.

She stopped at the corner and waited for the coming streetcar. She wrapped her arms firmly around her ribs. A year or less. If she could make it through that, then both she and Josie would be okay.

She’d agreed to show up in the morning for the job, which meant she should find somewhere to sleep this evening.

“Mary!”

She whirled to see Lou sprinting toward her. His broad frame filled her with a restless longing, an unfair yearning. She closed her eyes, pressing them to block out his image.

He reached her, his breaths short and shallow. Perhaps his scar still ached.

“You shouldn’t be running,” she said, opening her eyes.

“I’m fine. Look—” he swiped a hand through his hair “—I really am sorry. I’ve got no business telling you what to do. The past few weeks have been crazy for me. Getting shot, seeing Josie, which brings back all sorts of memories... Let’s just say I’m trying to make things right and I feel like I’m failing.” The words sounded strained as he said them.

A streetcar rumbled to a stop in front of them. She stepped onto it, and Lou followed. They held the railings as it picked up speed. What could she answer him? Seconds turned into minutes. He let her think, for which she was grateful.

Finally, she turned to him. He still wore that pained, uncomfortable expression. It pulled at the creases of his eyes and made him quite attractive. Stifling a smile, she said softly, “I suppose you’re not used to apologies.”

His lips tilted. “I’m used to being in charge. Giving orders and having people obey.”

“Perhaps there was a time for that in my life, but being by myself so much at the ranch has taught me to make my own way.” She hesitated, then reached out and touched one of his hands. His skin was tanned and scarred, rough beneath her fingers. “Your desire to protect me is noble, but I must be free to make my own choices. To control someone is not loving.”

His throat worked. His eyes were such a clear blue, penetrating and serious. “The last thing I want is to hurt you or treat you less than what you deserve. I’m going to try to trust your judgment, but I need you to trust me, too.”

“When it comes to my life, I reserve trust for myself.”

“What about God?” he countered.

The jab stung a bit. “Perhaps my trust in Him is not perfect, but I’m working on it.”

“I guess that’s the most anyone can do.” The streetcar jolted to a stop. They shifted closer to allow a woman laden with bags to squeeze past. Lou’s cologne and minty scent enveloped Mary. She was so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her hair.

As soon as the woman passed, she shifted away, ignoring every impulse to stay near him. The car started up again.

“So...truce?” Lou asked.

She faced him, taking in his sober look. “I suppose so.”

“Great. Let me help you, then. What’s the plan? What can I do? I have resources you can only dream of.” He gave her a lopsided grin.

She reciprocated, thankful the tension between them had ebbed. “For now I must find a hotel to stay at. Tomorrow I will begin my new job.”

“Your ma know yet?”

“I’ll send a telegram once I’m settled.”

“You don’t think she’ll worry?”

Mary quirked a brow. “Do you?”

“A little.” He rubbed at the light stubble at his

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