Eliza’s finger stilled, but she made no move to look back at Wyatt. “Thank you for what you did for me at River House. I did allow Ben to court me for a time, but he didn’t want to listen when I told him that time was well and truly gone.”

“I was just doing my job.”

“You do it well.” She paused. “I’m still undecided what I do well. Other than change my mind, apparently.”

He’d never known stubborn Eliza Gentry to change her mind once it was set on something. The only answer was she hadn’t set it on who she wanted to court her. Wyatt could have told her that, but of course, he would not.

But then, Ben Barnhart never knew her as well as he did. If Wyatt had anything to do with it, he never would.

Wyatt retrieved his pocket watch to check the time and realized he’d ruined it in the creek. He ought to be upset. The watch was a reward given to him by a grateful sultana after he foiled an attempt on her husband’s life last fall.

Per his timepiece, time had literally stood still while he’d been with Eliza. He tucked it back into his pocket and decided he would never get it fixed.

“I would like to apologize for making your job more difficult.” She sat back up and turned toward him as she spoke. “I wasn’t considering anyone but myself when I took off from River House on that horse.”

“Apology accepted,” he said. “You and that man you were arguing with seemed to know one another well.”

“Well enough. We were children together. I thought I loved him.” She shrugged. “He was correct when he said I kept changing my mind. I think part of the attraction was that my father and his despised one another.”

“And the rest of it?” he asked, then wished he hadn’t.

“A married woman makes her own decisions,” she said. “Ben is handsome, charming, and persistent.”

“And off-limits as far as your father is concerned.” Wyatt’s fingers curled into fists. “I should tell you that my assignment was specifically to keep him away from you.”

Her eyes met his. “I know. But he never tried to see me, did he?”

“Not until the night of the party.”

Eliza let out a long breath. “I was an idiot. I just reached a point where…” She shook her head. “Never mind. A lot of things have changed since then.”

“It’s only been a few weeks,” he said.

She tucked a red curl behind her ear. “It seems longer. There isn’t much to do here except tolerate my mother’s excursions into town and count meteorites when I see them.”

Once again Wyatt almost gave himself away by jumping into the conversation just like he had in their youth. “So you enjoy looking at stars?” he said instead.

“Not just looking at them. I’ve studied them for years.” She paused. “Well, I’ve read lots of books about them. My parents believe university studies are wasted on a woman.”

“I see.”

“That’s what I always liked about Ben. I could talk to him about my dreams, and he listened. He didn’t tell me I couldn’t become an astronomer.”

The statement stung. Likely Ben just wasn’t paying attention when she talked, but he kept his silence on that opinion. “Is that what you want?”

Another shrug. “It is what I think I want. Or maybe my parents are right and I should stop dreaming and secure a future for myself by marrying well and setting up housekeeping with a man who can take care of me.”

“No. Don’t do that.” Her brows rose at the tone of his voice. Wyatt amended his tone. “Maybe you’re the one who is supposed to discover constellations we didn’t know existed or map out a new comet’s path.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “Are you interested in those things too, Mr. Brady?”

“I once had a friend who was, so I know a little about it. Now, much as I would like to stay, I have to go,” he said as he stood. “I don’t want to be late.”

“You’re not late yet, Brady, and it looks like I’m just in time too.”

Wyatt turned to see William Gentry standing next to the buggy. His heart sank. It didn’t take a genius to know the man was not happy. Not that he blamed him.

“Eliza, Justine, what are you doing?”

“Watching fish.” Justine scrambled to her feet and tucked her bonnet ribbons over her shoulder. “And having an adventure with Eliza. We have a picnic basket, only it isn’t time for eating yet.”

“That explains the two of you.” He turned his attention to Wyatt. “What’s your excuse for sitting in bare feet in the creek with my daughter?”

“That’s my fault,” Justine told him. “He thought a bobcat was after me.”

“Was it?” he asked her.

“No.” She adjusted her bonnet. “But I made a loud noise because Eliza was going to get water on me, and I was a little frightened.”

Wyatt made his way toward the bank. “I was riding toward the stables to look for Red since I had some time before our meeting. I heard a scream and thought I better make sure they were safe.”

Mr. Gentry had his hands on his hips and an expression on his face that Wyatt had seen only a few times in his life. “Which apparently they were.” He gave Wyatt a sweeping glance. “Your clothes are wet.”

“That’s my fault too,” Justine said. “I wanted him to take me to the rock where Eliza was, and I was afraid of the creek water, which I am not afraid of now, and then he said he would be, then I said—”

“That’s enough, Justine.” He looked past Wyatt to his daughter. “You’re awfully quiet, Eliza.”

“Nothing to say,” she answered. “Mama left for town without Justine. She was bored and apparently afraid of the creek water. Mr. Brady saved us from potential bobcats, and here we are.”

“There is no need to take an attitude with me,” her father snapped. “You can imagine how this looks.”

She shook her head. “It looks exactly as I said. What is it you’re thinking, Papa?”

“With all due respect, sir, all is well here, so maybe we could speak elsewhere?” Wyatt reached the bank and walked past Mr. Gentry, retrieved his socks and boots, and slipped them on. “If you’ll let me, sir,” he added.

All he got out of the statement was a sideways glance from Eliza’s father.

“Eliza,” William Gentry called. “See that you watch Justine closely. I wouldn’t want any more bobcat scares.”

“Stop teasing, Papa,” she said. “We’re fine. Besides, your security detective probably has his employees hidden in trees all over the ranch to watch us.”

He shook his head, turned his back on the creek, and made his way out of the brush at a brisk pace with Wyatt a step behind. They rode in silence until they reached the ranch house.

Once inside, Wyatt followed him into the book-lined library that served as the office for ranch operations. Maps of Texas filled the empty spaces on the walls, each of them hung in elaborately carved wood frames. Behind the desk the brand of the Gentry Ranch had been burned into a piece of oak and was hung in the same kind of frame.

“Sit down,” Eliza’s father said none too kindly.

Wyatt quickly complied by finding one of the two leather chairs flanking the desk and taking a seat. It had been years since he’d been inside the Gentry ranch house, and back then he’d been a guest of the Gentry sons and not an employee of the owner.

He sat here now a different man. Literally.

Wyatt focused on the map of the Chisholm Trail that held pride of place over the fireplace at the end of the room, waiting for Eliza’s pa to be seated at the desk.

The older man rested his palms on the polished wood but said nothing more. His eyes studied Wyatt. His silence spoke volumes.

Finally, he sat back in his chair. “Did you tell her?”

“No.”

“Were you tempted?”

After he thought about it a minute, Wyatt had his answer. “No, sir. Ultimately I was not.”

Mr. Gentry shook his head. “Ultimately?”

“It came down to whether my word is my bond and my promise means anything.” He shifted positions but kept his eyes on the ranch boss. “It is and it does. Much more than the possibility of having my friend back.”

A moment passed. Then he gave Wyatt a curt nod. “But did she recognize you?”

Again he had to consider the question before he answered it. “She did not.”

“You’re certain?”

“I am.” He paused. “And the way Justine told it wasn’t the best, but it happened just as she said. I had no intention of stopping at the creek until I heard the child scream. It was instinct that sent me there. The child was afraid of the water. I thought I could help, and I did. I was leaving when you got there.” Another pause. “That’s all of it. Nothing more or I would tell you.”

A nod and the matter was settled. Or seemed to be.

“Your telegram said you had something to discuss with me in regard to the Barnhart boy,” Mr. Gentry said. “He hasn’t come after Eliza again, has he?”

“I’ve been tracking him, and he’s living in a room at the Driskill Hotel,” Wyatt said.

“So he hasn’t been coming around here?”

“No,” he said. “And it’s not in regard to your daughter than I wanted to speak with you. My investigation has turned up evidence that he was associating with counterfeiters in New Orleans.”

The older man’s red brows gathered. “Whatever for? Judge Barnhart has more money than good sense, and that apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. He’d have no need for more, would he? Is he being blackmailed?”

“Again, I don’t know. The information came to light when we were keeping tabs on him in New Orleans while your family was there. He frequented a warehouse near the river as well as an apartment house. The building was raided just before we all left. The police confiscated plates, ink, and paper of at least two types.”

“But not Barnhart.”

“No,” he said evenly. “Not Barnhart.”

“What about that apartment?”

Wyatt met his gaze. “It belonged to a woman. Apparently they were close. Suffice it to say her affections could be bought.”

Crimson climbed into the older man’s cheeks, matching the strands of red that remained among his gray hair. After a moment, he let out a long breath.

“Is that all?”

“Just fair warning that I’m going after him, sir.” Wyatt paused. “I’m doing this on my own time. I wanted you to know because it might get ugly.”

“It might,” he agreed. “But it’ll be worse if he knows a dead man is chasing him.”

He lifted one shoulder in a slow shrug. “Then he won’t know.”

“Ben isn’t stupid,” he told Wyatt. “He’s going to wonder why the man I hired to protect my family in New Orleans is here at the ranch. I’ve never had the need for security here and never will. You’ll need a reason to be here.”

“Let him wonder,” he told Mr. Gentry. “He knows what I do for you. Maybe that will be enough to keep him away from Eliza.”

“Was it enough in New Orleans?”

“No,” Wyatt said. “But to be fair, we tracked him there, and I got her out of the situation. He never made another attempt.”

“That we know of.”

“No.” He looked the older man in the eye. “It didn’t happen. He was under our surveillance the entire time.”

“Then I will expect that surveillance to happen again.” He paused. “And for that, you can put yourself back on the payroll. I may not need protection, but I won’t be caught unaware if Ben Barnhart comes calling on my daughter.”

Wyatt shook his head. “No. With all due respect, sir, I intend to do that for free.”

Eliza heard the low hum of male voices, but owing to the thick walls and solid wood door that closed off Papa’s office from the rest of the home, she couldn’t make out a single thing they were saying.

“You’re not doing it right,” Justine whispered, causing Eliza to jump. “You have to put your ear to the door.”

Mr. Brady’s abrupt exit had caused her cousin to decide she too needed to return to the house. Her excuse was that she needed a wardrobe change for the picnic part of their adventure.

Eliza had complied only because she was curious what Papa and Mr. Brady might be discussing.

“Hurry and change,” Eliza told her. “I’m getting hungry, and if you take too long, I’ll bring the picnic basket in and we will eat at the kitchen table.”

That caused Justine to hurry up the stairs and disappear into her room. Eliza was left to decide what to do until she returned.

The talking continued. Her curiosity continued as well.

A glance up the stairs confirmed that Justine was not yet about to return. Eliza walked over to the door and pressed her ear against it.

A moment later, the door opened and she tumbled into John Brady’s arms.

He caught her, held her, and stared into her eyes. She looked up and there it was again. Something. A memory?

“Eliza.”

A word and a warning all rolled up in her name. Mr. Brady swiftly set her on her feet but held her shoulders to steady her. Had he not, she might have tumbled yet again.

What was wrong with her?

This was the same security detective who had kept her safe in New Orleans. Who had raced her home from River House and who had abated Justine’s fears and ended up being soaked in the process.

But those eyes…

A tug at her sleeve caught her attention. Justine was standing just out of view of the men, shaking her head. The nine-year-old had exchanged her trousers and shirt for a pink day dress with lace trim.

The ribbons in her braids, still damp, remained in place, but she’d elected not to wear the pink bonnet. Instead, she had tied a multicolored headscarf around her hair.

Justine stepped into view and offered the security detective and Papa a broad grin before turning her charm on Eliza. “I’m ready now. We can go have our picnic. Goodbye, Uncle William and Mr. Brady. Please go on with your conversation without us.”

As the girl led Eliza away from the still-open door, she leaned over to whisper, “I repeat. That is not how it works when you’re listening to grown-up conversations. First, you never, ever put your ear on the door if you think the people inside might be leaving, and second, you especially never ever get caught.”

“But you said to put my ear on the…” Eliza shook her head. “Never mind. Get in the buggy and let’s go have a picnic.”

“Fine,” Justine said as she flounced ahead, her braids bobbing. “But you and I are going to have a serious conversation about appropriate behavior.”