The giant turned a blank face toward her. He stood rigid as she neared, like a man singled out for the firing squad. The wrinkles across his forehead told Perry he didn't know her and feared she'd mistaken him for someone else. He pulled off his cap and began mutilating it in his huge hands. "I'm sorry, miss. I don't know how a lady like you'self knows my name. But I've never met you."

"Luke…" Perry lifted her thin veil and stared up into confused eyes.

"Y-yes, ma'am," Luke said, stuttering. His head seemed to draw farther into his neckless body, reminding her of a huge turtle frightened by the unknown.

"Luke, don't be afraid," Perry said impulsively, regretting having done so immediately. Every muscle in the man's body seemed to tighten at once.

"Ain't afraid, ma'am." Luke squared his shoulders, trying desperately to hold on to his pride.

Perry tried again. "Luke, may I speak to you for a moment?" She waited for his slight nod before whispering, "You don't remember me, but we met a long time ago. You were kind to me once, and now I need your help again."

Perry couldn't have said the words any better. Though Luke hadn't been eating regularly for days, he might have hesitated working for a woman. But helping a lady, well, that was a different situation altogether.

"What can I do for you, ma'am?" He made a small bow.

"This is Molly, my friend." Perry stepped aside to allow Luke a clear view of the older woman. "We're opening a dining house and we desperately need a man to help us. Once we're open, there will be plenty of work for you." She hesitated, aware of others around them watching. "I should also tell you before you start that we can't pay much. You'd have a room and meals, but the pay will be poor at first."

Luke's full laughter made her jump. "A meal and a bed! That sounds mighty good. Lead the way, ladies. You got you'self a hired hand."

Molly didn't budge but puffed up like a large horned toad in an ant bed. "One thing first, Mr. Luke." Her pointed finger looked as deadly as any bayonet. "There'll be no drinking or womenin' while you're workin'."

Perry almost exploded into giggles. Molly stood beside her, a pillar of respectability. Even her dress had changed over the past few days. She now looked more like an old maiden aunt than a retired lady of the streets.

Luke addressed Molly with his hands in front of him and his head lowered in respect. "I'd not do that, ma'am. I drinks a few now and then, but there be no drunkard in me."

"Good." Molly deflated somewhat before adding, "If Miss Perry says you're a honest sort, then Lord knows we can use your help." Without another word she turned and marched back toward home.

Perry and Luke followed. They were at work within minutes. Luke had only enough time to remove his coat before both women began calling for his help. For the next two hours he moved furniture, lifted rugs, nailed boards, and hauled wood. Though mumbling some-times about being caught in a tornado, he continued to work, the smile on his sweaty face genuine. He enjoyed a job that taxed his strength and not his soul. It felt good to be doing a man's work again and not a soldier's killing.

Finally Molly ordered him to rest and have lunch. After only a few bites of her cooking he announced that he was sure he'd died and gone to heaven.

As the three made afternoon plans over dessert, Abram strolled through the open kitchen door without knocking. His arms were loaded down with samples of fabric and wallpaper. Perry jumped up to help him.

"I hired three carpenters to knock those walls out and build the counters you need," Abram said before he saw Luke sitting at the table.

Luke stood silently, waiting for Abram to make the first move.

Perry hurried to introduce them, forgetting she'd stood between them once before. Only then they had been soldiers. "Abram, I'd like you to meet Luke. We just hired him this morning,'' she said, then moved from between the two giants.

Abram slowly offered his hand. "I know Luke."

Luke shook hands in silence. His gaze never left the black man's face.

Abram was quiet a moment before making up his mind about Luke. "I'm glad to know you're here with the women. Miss Perry and Miss Molly are very special, and I wouldn't want any harm coming to them."

Luke nodded his head in understanding. Both men knew Abram now held Luke responsible for the women's safety.

As Luke looked first to Abram, then to Perry, he raised one eyebrow in thought. "I remember where I saw those huge brown eyes before." His lopsided smile wrinkled his stubbly cheek. "So you weren't a boy? I'll ask no questions about something that's only in the past." He glanced back to Abram. "Hope you have none for me."

"Just one." Abram's eyes were as hard as coal. "I've heard tell you've killed men in fights that had nothing to do with the war.''

"Only two." Luke straightened and added, "And them two needed killin'."

Abram studied him a moment, then nodded. "I understand. I've met a few men in this life who needed to meet their maker.''

Perry interrupted, not wanting to think of the one man she knew who needed killing. "Abram has been searching for carpenters." She turned to Abram, intentionally steering the conversation to safer shores. "How long will they take to build what we need?"

"Ten days to two weeks," Abram answered.

"Great!" Molly shouted. "If we can get the help hired, we can open by the twenty-third."

Abram nodded as he thought out loud. "Two days before Hunter's wedding." He turned to Perry, sorry he had said anything about Hunter.

She glanced quickly away from the others so no one would see the sadness in her eyes. Everything had been so hectic, she'd had little time to dream of Hunter. Yet he still held her in the shadows of her dreams and the corners of every day's reality.

"Two weeks. Two weeks," she whispered. Somehow she had to find a way to see him one last time before she said good-bye forever. She would wear her black veil and watch him from far away. One more memory to help her mourn a dream that would never be.

Chapter 22

The days of remodeling melded together into endless toil. Perry worked until exhausted each day, yet thoughts of Hunter still robbed her of sleep. Finally, on the eve of the restaurant's opening and three days before Hunter's wedding, restlessness overtook reason. She waited until Luke had locked up and gone for his nightly walk to the tavern for a drink, then she dressed in black and slipped out the back door.

The pleasure of being totally alone was a welcome opportunity to free her mind. She needed to walk and make herself think of all she had and not live in dreams of what might have been. She needed time to think without having to guard her expressions.

Marching along the abandoned streets, she listened to her footsteps tap a lonely rhythm against the side-walk. Her fingers gently caressed the gun that Abram had given her, which rested in her coat pocket. The small pearl-handled weapon offered all the company she needed to face the shadowy figures in the streets. But to her relief the only people about were a few servants returning home after a late night's work and tavern keepers sweeping out their stores before closing.

The same facts kept somersaulting in her mind. Hunter would be married in three days. He'd marry without her ever seeing him again. She'd never tell him who she was or what his cousin, Wade, had done to her. She'd never speak of how much just knowing he existed had changed her life, her dreams. She must live her life without ever feeling his touch again, without ever hearing the funny way her name rolled off his Northern tongue.

Tears bubbled over her eyelashes and ran down icy cheeks. She walked without direction, lost in thought. There was something wild within her that wanted to run to him no matter what the cost. But the cost of his rejection would be too much for her to endure. He loved another. He planned to marry another.

When she dried her eyes enough to look around, she recognized the back gate of Hunter's home. Crumbling on a low bench by the stable door, she studied the house, secure in the knowledge that no one could see her in the darkness. Knowing that Hunter was inside brought her both joy and pain. She closed her eyes and let the icy wind rock her as she pressed against the wood, pretending she was somehow closer to the only man who'd ever touched her with tenderness and love.

The same wind that comforted Perry blew directly into Hunter's face as he rode down an alley a mile away. He swung around the corner and stopped to check his watch in the yellow glow of the streetlight. Ten minutes late, but the note had been vague, saying only "After midnight."

Hunter couldn't believe he'd let himself get into such a predicament. Three days before his wedding and he was waiting outside Jennifer's house like a thief. He slid from his horse and tied the animal to the iron fence that surrounded her property. He'd give whoever left the note fifteen minutes, and that was all. The whole thing was probably a joke, someone's idea of a prank. But the words sounded so desperate. "Wait behind Jennifer's stairs after midnight. Matter of life and death."

Hunter knew sleep would elude him tonight, as it did every night. So, letting curiosity get the better of him, he'd decided to make this midnight ride, even if it were for naught.

Passing through the unlocked gate into a small garden below Jennifer's balcony, Hunter's nerves tightened. He strolled toward a stairway that permitted Jennifer to visit her garden without traveling through the rest of the house. The trees lining the boundary of her garden shadowed his presence as he waited in the cold darkness, wishing he'd ignored the note. But the note took the edge off his restless mind. At least tonight he'd be fighting the cold and not some dream woman who loved him only in his mind. Tonight the wind would cool the passion in his blood that boiled each time he dreamed of his raven-haired angel whose body was soft and yielding.