"He put this letter in the strongbox, hoping you'd find it before the nephews did. I'll bet they're still wondering how the body of the man they killed had disappeared."

Molly laughed, rocking the bed with her chuckles. "They must have had a few sleepless nights thinking of what they could do about it. They couldn't go around asking if anyone had seen a body. They must have known Henry was lying about his partner disappearing, but what could they say? There was no one but the killers and Henry to say if the partner was alive or dead."

Molly's eyes filled with sadness. "Henry knew the law wouldn't declare his partner dead for seven years. He told me himself that the doctors didn't give him more than two years to live, and that only if he stayed away from the bottle." She shook her head. "Why should he have stayed sober with his only kin plotting to kill him? That's why he let his business go to ruin. By the time he died, the company was worthless."

Molly stood and dusted the crumbs from her dress. "I'll go tell Luke to find the sheriff, then I'll be back to talk with you while you dress." She stopped after only a few steps. "Oh, I almost forgot. I've got another letter here that Abram gave me. He said you might like to read it." She tossed the letter to Perry and hurried to find Luke.

As Perry picked up the second letter her eyes widened in surprise. The envelope was addressed to Hunter. The letter within hung halfway out. She debated a moment before pulling the pages out and opening them.

Glancing at the last page, she read Mary Williams's neat signature. She knew Abram must have brought the letter to her because he guessed how hungry she was for news. An ounce of guilt for reading Hunter's mail was outweighed by a ton of curiosity.

She was unaware of how long she'd been sitting staring at the letter when Molly interrupted her once more. "Well, Luke's gone for the law." Molly laughed. "We'll be rid of our silent partner soon."

The old woman wrinkled her forehead. "What is it, dear?"

Perry lifted the letter as though Molly could read it for herself, than lowered the paper to her lap. "Most of it doesn't concern me, but Mary Williams does mention that my grandfather died only a week after I left and that my brother has been at Three Oaks for several days. She also writes that her husband, John, is very ill."

Folding the paper carefully, Perry placed it back in the envelope, as if she were also folding away her memories. She remembered the way her grandfather had been sitting in his old chair by the fire when she walked in on him.

"I'm sorry." Molly patted her hand..

"I should be sorry too," she confessed. "But I'm more saddened by John Williams's illness. My grandfather and I were not very close."

"Do you want to go home?" Molly whispered, almost afraid to ask.

"No," Perry answered. "I'm glad my brother is safe and I'll write him today, but this is my home now."

"For as long as you like." Molly was having trouble getting the words out. She pushed her emotions aside with a loud clearing of her throat. "Well, enough talk. You'd best get dressed. Hunter left word he'd be here at ten to call on you."

Perry rose slowly. "I don't think I can see him again." She stood by the window, staring out but seeing nothing. "He cares nothing for me, I'm sure of it. He wanted to sleep with me last night without even knowing my name." Her voice was as low as the wind across open grassland. "He plans to marry another tomorrow."

"Now hold your horses, little lady!" Molly shouted in as scolding a voice as she could muster. The Scottish accent thickened her tongue when she was angry. "I don't know what happened in here last night, but he saved your life in the attic. As for marrying another, you'd best ask him about that. I think the least you can do is talk with him. If you still don't want to see him after that, I'll personally help you bolt the door. But one thing I've learned to do over the years is to size up a man fast. I'd bet your Mr. Hunter Kirkland is a man to reckon with. I don't think he'll take no for an answer when he calls."

Perry stared out the window at the trees, still heavily laden with rain. The morning sun shone bright, turning the moisture into sparkling diamonds. "All right," she agreed, unable to fight both herself and Molly. "I'll receive him in my office."

"Good." Molly waddled toward the door. "I'll go down and get the cooks started on the pies, then I'm going up for a little nap."

Perry wasn't listening. Her mind was spinning with all the things Hunter might ask when he arrived, and how she could answer him.

Chapter 27

Yellowed maps covered Perry's desk, whispering of worlds she'd never known. She tried to make her mind focus on them as she heard her office door open.

Luke stammered, "Miss Perry, y-you've a visitor."

Without looking up she answered, "Thank you, Luke." She heard the door close and knew Hunter was in the room, but she couldn't bring herself to look at him.

He stood silently just inside the door for several minutes, watching the morning light play off the halo of black hair atop her head. She was wearing a navy dress with a white lace collar and cuffs that made her look every bit the lady he now knew her to be. If it were possible, she looked even more like an angel than before. After all these months of caring about her, of dreaming of her, he suddenly found the few feet between them an impossible canyon to cross.

"May I come in?" Hunter asked awkwardly, thinking she might never acknowledge his presence.

She lifted her head, but their eyes met only briefly before she lowered hers. "I'm sorry, Captain Kirkland. Please come in and sit down."

The last thing Hunter wanted to do was sit down across the desk from her, but he knew he must move slowly. Every ounce of his being wanted to storm around the table and pull her into his arms. He wanted to finish what he'd started last night, before his unjust words had broken the spell. Yet he sat down, allowing reason to hold him temporarily in check.

Perry tried to keep her movements fluid as she absently closed the maps. He was wearing a freshly pressed blue uniform, and though he looked very handsome, the coat reminded her of a war that would always stand between them.

"Do you think you could call me Hunter? The captain will vanish in a few days when I return to civilian life, and you haven't used my last name since we've met."

His low voice made her feel like the room was suddenly running out of air.

When she didn't answer, Hunter continued, trying to stay on safe ground. "I learned that your grandfather died, and I wanted to say how sorry I am for your loss."

"Thank you," she whispered as she turned slightly toward the windows.

He twisted his hat in his hands to keep from standing and closing the space between them. "Abram told me all about why you left your home and how you were running from a treason charge. The war's over now, and no one will hold you to account for your crime."

Perry didn't answer but turned away as she tried to control the anger mounting inside her. She didn't view her actions as criminal, and she didn't want to look at him now, for all she'd see would be the Union blue of his jacket.

Mistaking her silence for shyness, he continued, "I also understand you were engaged to my cousin. My grandmother wrote that his fiancée died. You planned your own death, didn't you?"

"Yes." Perry lifted her head. "I had to make sure no one would follow me. I am sorry, though, that I brought sadness to your grandparents. They are a wonderful couple and so very much in love." She remembered the way John Williams's wrinkled fingers would reach over and pat Mary's hand every now and then, as though reassuring her of his love.

Hunter slapped his hat against his leg. "Why?" he asked. Then when she looked at him, puzzled, he added, "Why were you engaged to Wade?" The one question had haunted him all night as he'd searched for his cousin. "Couldn't you see what kind of man he was? Or were you blinded by his insane ambition for power?"

"I was never unaware of Wade Williams's character." Perry resented his questions. What right did a man who was marrying a woman like Jennifer have to ask questions of others? "He asked my grandfather, not me, for my hand. I have no wish to talk about your cousin, Mr. Kirkland."

"Nor I," he answered, wishing he could erase Wade from his life. They'd never liked each other, and Hunter aimed to see he paid for what he'd done to her. But now he wanted to talk of other things with her. So far everything he'd said had been wrong. He could feel her anger mounting toward him. He wanted to talk to her of love, not war and pain, but he wasn't sure how to begin.

The silence grew between them. When finally his voice came again, it was softer. "You fell asleep in my arms last night."

Perry turned toward him, shocked at his words.

A flicker of passion echoed as he continued. "I enjoyed watching you sleep." His eyes moved from her face to run the length of her body. He smiled, remembering her soft fullness and the way she had molded to him. Beneath the wrappings of this lady was quite a woman.

Perry felt her cheeks redden as her anger rose. How dare he talk to her of such things when he was marrying another tomorrow? First he calls the burning of her own fields a crime, then he questions her judgment, and now he looks at her with his wonderful, passion-filled eyes and thinks she'll forget he's about to be a married man.

He saw her anger grow and knew he'd somehow said something else wrong. Laughing, he thought how easily he could talk to important men, even the president, yet this little lady made him feel like he was still in short pants.