“Why are you staring at me like that?” she asked, blushing.
“I just find you extremely attractive and hope that your Bernard is aware of what a prize he’s going to marry.”
Victoria’s cheeks really did turn crimson now and she looked away, saying, “I’m having second thoughts.”
“About marrying Bernard?”
“No. About you joining us on the way down to Prescott.”
“Why?”
“You’re just so … so different!”
Longarm reached across the aisle between them and placed a forefinger under her chin. “Look at me, Victoria.
She did.
“What did you expect? I’m a frontier lawman. I live for the hunt and I’m always watching for someone I’ve arrested or whose brother I might have gunned down and expecting to be ambushed. I have learned to be a loner. I trust very, very few people. I shun permanency and commitments because I am never sure that I’ll be around much longer. I prefer the outdoors and … yes, even feel most alive when I am in danger.”
Longarm leaned back in his seat. “Now, does that sound anything like the kind of a fellow who would make a good banker?”
“Absolutely not!”
“Then what did you expect?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I do love Bernard, in a fashion. But I don’t find him very …”
She couldn’t say it, but Longarm thought he knew what she wanted to tell him. He had, over the past few days, picked up enough information about Bernard to draw a mental image of the Prescott banker and investment advisor. Bernard was staid, and considerably overweight, and very, very predictable. He was good, honest, and as boring as a board. He was fussy too. Didn’t want children who might interrupt his little routines or disturb his precious serenity. Yes, Longarm knew Bernard. He’d met a few just like him and they bored him to tears.
“ … very exciting,” Longarm said, completing her thought. “And, to be honest, Victoria, I doubt you even love the man.”
“Love him? I admire and … and like Bernard. I’m very fond of him.”
Longarm wanted to throw up. “What a poor bargain you settle for! And why? Because your heart was broken by your husband and now you prize security and predictability above all other things in a man?”
“Yes!”
“Excuse me,” Longarm said, coming to his feet. “But I need some fresh air. I can’t stand the thought of you compromising on life. It saddens me, Victoria.”
As he was starting to leave, she grabbed his arm. “So what should I do? Fall in love with some penniless lawman who admits, yes, admits, that he loves danger?”
“No,” Longarm answered. “Marry your banker and become old and safe and bored. You can at least dream of what life should have been like—if you’d only had the courage to live it to the fullest.”
Longarm had no more to say to Victoria Hathaway. He was sad, rather than angry, and so, when they finally disembarked at Ash Fork, he didn’t even consider riding down to Prescott with her and Bernard. And yes, the banker did prove to be the spitting image of what he’d imagined. The man looked old enough to be Victoria’s father, or at least an uncle. He was pudgy, proper, and greeted Victoria with a brotherly peck on the cheek that almost turned Longarm’s stomach.
Oh, well, Longarm thought as he headed for the stage line office to make his own travel arrangements to Prescott. It’s her choice and her life—but what a monumental waste!
Chapter 5
Longarm was reluctant to turn away from Victoria Hathaway, but she’d made her own choices in life and everyone had a right to make mistakes. She, Bernard, and a tough-looking man who was driving their fine carriage passed Longarm, and he paused to gaze at her one last time. Victoria looked right back at him, and he thought that he detected regret in her pretty eyes. “Have a happy life!” he called.
Victoria’s head turned away, but the driver gave Custis a hard look as they passed on down the street and out of Ash Fork on their way down to Prescott. With a sigh of regret, Longarm trudged over to the stage office and was pleased to learn that his luck was holding and that the next coach to Prescott would be leaving at mid- morning.
“Where you from?” the clerk asked, taking Longarm’s three dollars.
“Denver.”
“Here on business?”
“Yep.”
The clerk, a middle-aged man with big muttonchop whiskers and a badly stained brown suit, waited for Longarm to elaborate. When he did not, the clerk said, “You’ll be needing a place to stay tonight.”
“Yep.”
“I’d like to suggest the Majestic Hotel. Clean rooms, good rates. You’ll like it.”
“What about meals?”
“The Majestic has a dining room. Better than most places to eat in town.” The clerk handed him his ticket. “I
