He could picture it—Dallas with his long stride, his bigger-than-life ways, daring anyone to find fault with the babe in his arms or her mother. The town might now have a mayor and a town council, but Leighton still belonged to Dallas. His influence could not be measured. No one wanted to get on his bad side.
“You should have let me know, Faith.”
“She wasn’t your responsibility. You left here looking for something, Rawley. I didn’t want you coming back until you found it.”
The thing he’d been searching for was standing before him. He couldn’t imagine the courage it had taken for her to risk the censure of the townsfolk. She could have gone to some other town or city where no one knew her and told them she was a widow. “Why’d you stay?”
“Because this is my home.”
She wandered over to the next post and he followed, going through the same motions as before with the wire.
“Did you meet anyone while you were away?” she asked.
“Met a lot of people.”
She pretended to conk him on the head with the hammer. “Anyone special. A lady.”
“Nope.”
She seemed to take great interest in ensuring the next nail was positioned perfectly. “That lady you loved, the one Maggie told me about, do you know if she’s still in town?”
“She is.”
At that, her eyes came up to his. “Did you write to her while you were away?”
“I should have but I didn’t.”
“Is she married?”
“Nope.”
She gave him a saucy, challenging smile. “Maybe you’ll get up the courage to call on her.”
With that, she sashayed off to the next post.
It had never been about courage. It had always been about believing he didn’t deserve her. And he hadn’t, but maybe not for the reasons he’d assumed. Perhaps there had been a bit of fear in him, fear that his past would taint whatever they might have had together.
But when he considered the courage it had taken for her to remain in the area knowing people would judge her, his own concerns about being judged were insignificant.
The one thing he did know was that no one would ever love her as much as he did.
Chapter Ten
“Faith give you that black eye?”
Rawley had expected some comment about his bruised cheek but had thought it would come from Maggie, not her father. Houston gave him a knowing smirk, or at least the set of his mouth strongly resembled a smirk. Half his face had been scarred “on some godforsaken battlefield” when he was younger, and the rivulets of thick tissue tended to keep that portion of his face immobile so it was sometimes difficult to interpret his smiles. But there was no difficulty whatsoever when it came to reading Austin’s broad grin. The man was downright and irritatingly amused.
“I might have accidentally run into her fist when I got off the train,” he admitted.
Austin chuckled. “I heard tell she was fit to be tied when you hightailed it out of here without discussing the matter with her first.”
“I had my reasons for leaving as I did.”
“Whatever they were, we hope they’re behind you now,” Houston said. “We’re glad to have you home.” He was the peacemaker of the family, a quiet man of few words, but when he did speak, people tended to listen.
Taking a sip of whiskey, Rawley glanced around. Houston’s wife and four daughters were there, as were Austin’s wife, Loree, and their five sons. Callie had been fed and put to bed already. Faith was still getting dressed. After working on the fence, they’d returned to the house to get ready. When he sank into the tub of hot water, he’d imagined her doing the same thing in the room next to his, thought of the soapy linen caressing her skin, the water droplets raining down on her.
Repairing the fence together, talking, had helped to reestablish the bond between them, and he wasn’t altogether certain that was a good thing, because now Faith Leigh was a woman to be reckoned with. Maturity had added to her allure, and he wasn’t certain he had it within him to resist her this time, wasn’t sure he wanted to any longer. A woman of her courage was the sort any man would welcome at his side. Now that she was older, the years separating them didn’t seem as big a gap. He was no longer a man, she a girl. They were both adults.
