Chapter Fifty Eight

Jarrod awoke from his slumber about three o'clock in the morning. He stretched and pulled Lisette closer in. She had nuzzled into the crook of arm during the night. He didn't want to wake her but they needed to be back before dawn. He was surprised his Mother hadn't sent someone to check on them.

"Lissy—Lissy time to wake up. We need to get back to the ranch while it's still dark."

She moaned for a second and nuzzled into his chest again.

"Honey, wake up."

He coaxed her into waking and fixed her a glass of water and some headache powders.

"I am sorry Jarrod—and thank you for taking care of me once again."

"Lisette, I love you and even more each day."

"With my puffy eyes and drunken self?"

"Yes, even more. I worried you couldn't keep up your lovely smile without crying those tears. I am relieved actually."

"And I love you, Jarrod."

"Let's get home before my mother gets out her wooden spoon after both of us."

She washed her face in the water closet and chewed on some fresh mint she had planted in his kitchen window. Jarrod put on his jacket and boots.

He turned the wick down and checked the front office to make sure everything was locked down.

"Lissy, would you like an office? A place for yourself to draw, to paint, to make hotel plans? The front storefront is empty; I just covered the windows with heavy velvet drapes for privacy. Maybe even a gallery? Stockton has a burgeoning artist community. I know two in the county. Maybe?"

She gave him a look of love, "Yes I would like that very much."

"And I have ulterior motives. It would be socially acceptable to see each other more in town. And it gives us a central location to meet with the workers for the hotel. I may have a client come in but you would have your own office or gallery to meet."

"Won't you be making most of the decisions?"

"No. If you need me, I am next door. We will make the big decisions together but you have built a hotel, I haven't. I defer to your judgment."

"But I am a woman."

"And I, my love, am quite thankful for that— and don't forget I was raised by Victoria Barkley. She was an equal partner in my father's endeavors. I trust her judgment as my own. As I shall yours—"

"What did I do to deserve you?"

"And I can ask myself the same question—"

They walked out the back of the office and crunched on glass. Jarrod lit a lamp and saw the broken pane above the door knob.

He instinctively reached down for his gun, "Let's get home."

—&—-

Heath had a hard time falling asleep beside Grete. They had consummated their passion and she had fallen quickly asleep. His mind was full of anger from the afternoon that he put aside for Grete's sake.

He had ridden home as fast as he could without harming Charger. He got the message that his mother had taken his wife home. He was furious for the two ladies he loved most in the world taking that chance without him or even Jarrod.

"Where was my brother to allow it?"

He had no doubt that his Mother could take care of herself—but Grete.

She was hardworking and practical and kind to a fault. But she had never been in any danger growing up in the close knit lumber camp in Wisconsin. Killing a snake had been the extent of her experience with danger—until Brother Jehu and his malice. His late night trip to the bakery had caused a scandal and resulted thankfully in their quick marriage—-. He had no idea what he had in life until he bedded Grete. It was a deep love that would last them a lifetime. Then the kidnapping and her jaw and his guilt over breaking Kai's leg. The helplessness he felt to this day—the way she was treated in town and kept her head held high out of her mother's love for her son. And his rage at the preacher—-she had not chastised him but initiated her first kiss of passion for him. It took his breath away—then to find her gone with his Mother. He was glad they were safe at him but the anger was just under the surface—

"I need to teach her how to shoot, that's it. So I know when I am not at home. She can protect herself. I will get her a gun. She may not like it but I will make her learn."

—-&_

Jarrod and Lisette snuck up the stairs quietly. He saw his mother's door open, a nod and close again.

"We will have a talk tomorrow, I assume." he sighed.

He kissed her on the forehead, "Sweet dreams. Tomorrow is a big day. We go over with the architect from Sacramento our ideas. Thankfully it is in the afternoon."

"I can't wait. And here is to a new day."

The broken pane of glass disturbed him. He wished he had had time to investigate further.

"An accident? A burglary? A Witch Hunter? Or something to do with the hotel business again? Buck?" crossed his mind again.

Jarrod went downstairs to the gun cabinets. He rummaged through the ammunition, gun cloths and spare sights. He found what he was looking for in the velvet gift box it came in—

A brass pearl handled Derringer with the initials JTB on the interior handle.

He had handled a blackmail case discreetly several years ago between a prominent politician, a successful madam and one of her girls under the influence of a political opponent. He got all parties to the table and found information to make the adversary back down. The madam had gifted him a rare Derringer when he turned down her offer of carte blanche at her famous address.

"This is perfect for Lissy. I am going to insist she begin to carry one—at least in town and traveling back and forth. This will fit her hand well and is discreet enough to fit in her bag."

He took the gun upstairs and went to sleep for a few hours before the hum of a busy house woke him.