The Rancher's Christmas Proposal. Sherri Shackelford

again, that unfortunate reference to thievery. “Despite what the poets say, absence does not make the heart grow fonder. He’ll forget about me soon enough once I’m out of his sight.”

      She hoped.

      The door opened and she leaped halfway out of her chair then sat back down with a thud. The elderly couple who’d admired the children earlier were leaving. No need for panic.

      “Sorry,” she said. “Thought I saw someone I knew.”

      To her immense relief, Shane appeared unfazed by her weak excuse. “You’ve had a rough go of it, haven’t you?”

      A sharp pain throbbed in her temple. She wasn’t lying, though, not exactly. She was withholding certain facts for his protection. Men like Mr. McCoy didn’t understand men like Dead Eye.

      Despite the bolstering thought, or maybe because of it, she averted her gaze before biting the inside of her cheek.

      Emmett had been certain she’d fail on her own, certain she’d come crawling back, begging for his help. He could have at least had the courtesy to be available for the begging-and-crawling portion when the time arrived. “I’m starting on a new adventure. It’s very exciting.”

      Exciting in the sort of way a catastrophic train wreck was exciting, but rousing all the same.

      A shadow passed before the window, and she shrank back, dipping her head and covering her face. Everyone simply assumed they were a loving family enjoying the afternoon, and she’d relaxed into the illusion. She’d taken for granted the respectability of traveling with Emmett. Alone, she attracted all sorts of unwanted stares and attention.

      Bolstering her courage, she stood. She’d made her choice, and she had no one to blame but herself if the going was difficult. Her heart heavy, she reached out and brushed the backs of her knuckles along the cushion of Alyce’s cheek, then ruffled Owen’s hair.

      The twins had devoured what ice cream hadn’t melted and claimed their spoons. They were having great fun sweeping their fingers around the glass bowl, seeking every last drop. The task took a great deal of concentration, which meant Tessa had lost her last excuse for lingering.

      The ticking clock above the counter propelled her forward. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. McCoy. You have a beautiful family. Despite your difficulties this morning, I feel certain you will prevail.”

      She squared her shoulders and focused on the door. The important part was not looking back. Emmett always said that life was not meant to be traveled backward.

      Shane caught her hand. “Wait.”

      She mustn’t turn around. All of her instincts screamed that he expected something from her. She knew full well she’d never live up to those expectations.

      Certainly she’d never been one to linger over little heartbreaks and trivial disappointments. This morning when she’d realized her time at the Harvey House was at an end, she’d set out with dogged resolve. Though she mourned the loss of her delicate new friendships, she hadn’t faltered.

      Yet her feet remained rooted in place. She didn’t believe in fate, but something had brought them together on that platform. Of all the people passing through the station, Owen had found her. Surely that meant something in the grand scheme of things.

      The preacher at the tent revival had said that in helping others one helped oneself. But what did a retired thief have to offer?

      Shane released her hand. “Hear me out. Please.”

      The appeal in his voice scattered the last vestiges of her good sense. “I’m listening.”

Chapter Three

      Miss Spencer’s direct gaze had Shane tied up in knots again, and he immediately forgot what he was about to say. There was a chance they might help each other—if he took care of the problem plaguing her first. Just once he wanted to do the right thing and have something good come of it.

      Before Shane could speak, Owen reached for his spoon and slipped. His body fell forward and he splayed his hands, nicking the edge of his bowl. The glassware slid across the table. Tessa lunged. The bowl dodged between her fingers and careened off the edge. Melted chocolate splattered her skirts before the glass shattered.

      Owen sobbed and rubbed the spot on his chin where he’d bumped the table. The boy reached for Tessa and she immediately resumed her seat, pulling him onto her lap while carefully avoiding the shattered glass. Owen grasped at her white lace collar with sticky fingers and buried his chocolate-covered face in her neck. Oblivious of the damage marring her pristine outfit, Tessa rubbed his back and murmured soothing words.

      Shane swallowed hard once. Then twice. The twins had sought that affection from Abby, craved her attention. Instead, she’d drifted through their lives like a marionette, going through the motions without any more warmth than a carved wooden block. Everything he’d done to help had only made matters worse.

      As Owen’s cries turned into hiccups and eventually subsided, Tessa glanced up, her expression troubled. “I have to go. My shift normally starts at dinner. When I don’t arrive, Dead Eye will start looking for me.”

      She was paler by the moment, her movements jerky and frightened. Shane blew out a breath. He’d always had a weakness for the marginalized. All the men he’d hired on the ranch had conquered adversity in one way or another. Finch had lost his right arm and the vision in his left eye during the war. Wheeler was a freed slave Shane had met on a tortuous stagecoach ride through the sweltering Texas heat.

      The others...well, the others had seen more than their fair share of hardship. Probably that was why Abby had returned once she’d realized she was in trouble. She knew he’d never turn her away. Yet he suspected a difference in Tessa. As though she’d take any offer of protection as an affront, though clearly she was in need of assistance.

      Shane scowled. The outlaw deserved a throttling for terrifying her. Barring that, he’d do the next best thing.

      “Let me help,” he said quickly. “Please.”

      Owen fidgeted in her lap and she produced a coin he hadn’t noticed before. With a deft flick of her wrist, the coin disappeared. Owen snatched at her fingers and frowned in confusion. She fisted her hands a few times, turning her arm this way and that. With an exaggerated frown of confusion, she brushed Owen’s temple.

      “Hmm,” she said solemnly. “What have we here?”

      With a flourish she produced the coin from behind Owen’s ear. The boy squealed in delight.

      Alyce stood in her chair and leaned over, eagerly joining the game. Without answering him, Tessa absently repeated the trick. Much to the delight of the children, the coin dropped from noses and sprang from beneath dimpled chins with an elegant and imperceptible sleight of hand. Shane was as mesmerized as the children with the rapid disappearance and reappearances of the coin. Only when she dropped the money into her reticule was the spell broken.

      She glanced up and he shook his thoughts back to the problem at hand, grasping for a convincing argument.

      “The next train doesn’t leave for hours.” He charged ahead. “I have an idea that may help us both.”

      Her face softened and his persuasions died on his lips. Abby had an odd habit of staring at a spot over his shoulder, never looking directly at him. The practice had left him feeling invisible. Tessa met his gaze dead-on, her expression open and forthright.

      “I’m not sure how you can help.” She quirked an eyebrow. “Unless you have a freshly pressed dress handy or a private stage for a hasty exit out of town?”

      “No.” Her directness was refreshing and disconcerting at the same time. “I’m afraid not, but I can offer you a room at the hotel.” At the startled look in her eyes, he quickly added, “To freshen up.”

      She gave a sad shake of her