Page 26 of At Love’s Command

She bit her lip. “No. They’re asking for three thousand dollars. By Friday. I can’t afford half of that.” Here it came. The moment of truth. Straightening her backbone and lifting her chin, Josephine gathered her courage and made her outrageous request. “I want to hire the Horsemen to rescue my brother.”

A tiny muscle ticked in Matthew’s jaw beneath his ear. Was he angry?

“I’ll pay you, of course,” she hurried to assure him, in case he thought she was trying to take advantage of their acquaintance. “I remember your enthusiasm for Gringolet horses. When I graduated from medical school, my father promised me my pick from any of the mounts in his stable. I’ve been saving that pick, knowing it would take several years to build my practice. I hoped that when I was more established, I would be able to stable a horse and ride regularly. But I’ll give my pick to you.” It was the only thing of value she owned. “Agree to rescue Charlie, and you can have any horse Gringolet has to offer.”

He said nothing. Just slowly turned back to face her. His face a mask.

Her heart rate tripled. Her breath shallowed.

Please say yes. Please say yes.

“Hard to split a horse between four men,” he finally said, his voice flat. “You aren’t just hiring me, Josie. You’re hiring all the Horsemen.”

She swallowed. She’d been so focused on convincing Matthew, she hadn’t given the others more than a cursory thought. Her mind spun, desperate to find a solution.

“Perhaps you can sell the horse and split the profits,” she blurted. “Gringolet stock brings top dollar at auction.” The idea was paper-thin, but it was all she had to offer. “Please, Captain Hanger.”

Something hardened in his eyes. “I liked it better when you called me Matthew.”

Josephine blinked. Then hope speared upward through her core like water from a geyser. He hadn’t said no. In fact, he’d just invited a greater level of intimacy. And—wait a minute. Had he called her Josie? He had. Twice. She’d been too consumed with spitting out her proposal that she hadn’t fully registered the pet name.

Josie.

Her mother had always insisted on using her full name, while her father and Charlie had shortened the moniker to Jo. As a youngster who idolized her father, she’d enjoyed being one of the boys with a more male-sounding name. But once she took to wearing long skirts and pinned-up hair, the desire to be one of the boys proved less enthralling. She’d leveraged the name with her medical practice, thinking people might be more accepting of her as a physician if there were something about her that reminded them of a man.

But Josie? It felt feminine. Maybe even affectionate. It opened a door between them that had previously been closed and invited her closer.

Her head warned against the lure. He was a man who lived by his gun, who profited from violence. Yet her heart argued that he fought for justice and was no different than her father—a man trained for war who had turned that training into a livelihood that not only provided for him and his men but contributed to the good of society. And, most telling of all, Matthew Hanger was the man she had instinctively run to for help. How hypocritical would it be to condemn him for his warrior skills even as she pled for him to use them on her brother’s behalf?

“Matthew.” As she said his name, acceptance of who he was resonated in her chest. She shifted nearer to him. Touched his arm. “Please. I need your help.”

Matt fell into those pleading sea-green eyes and knew at once he was lost. Who was he kidding? He’d been lost the minute she flagged him down. Now she was touching him. Calling him by his given name. Looking at him as if he were some kind of hero.

He would help her, but then, he’d decided that from the beginning. Didn’t even need her horse, though a Gringolet mount would be a mighty fine prize. Phineas had served him well, but the old boy deserved greener pastures and an easy retirement in the next year or two.

The others would give him a hard time for even bringing up the idea of taking a job for free. If word got out, they’d be swamped by charity cases. They’d have to leave Kendall in the dark. Of course, the others might think him a sentimental fool and turn down the job. They always put jobs to a vote. Three against one wouldn’t cut it, and even though he could probably convince Wallace to take his side, since the doc saved the kid’s life, two votes still weren’t enough. It took a majority to contract a job. And despite what he’d said about the Horsemen being a package deal, if they decided that risking their lives for a man they’d never met and a woman they barely knew wasn’t a job they were willing to take, he’d strike out on his own for a week and do it himself.

Because he couldn’t tell her no.

He didn’t want to tell her no. And that right there should send him riding in the opposite direction as fast as Phineas could carry him.

He knew better than to fall for a pretty pair of eyes and a feisty temperament. Female entanglements left a man vulnerable. He’d already lost one family. If he let himself care for Josie, he’d run the risk of suffering that agony all over again. He couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t do that.

Yet he also couldn’t leave her stranded. She needed him.

No, he corrected himself, she needed the Horsemen. That was all this was. A job. Nothing personal.

Needing a clear head, he moved away from her touch. “Mount up. We gotta run this by the others before I can give you an answer.”

He might have already decided to help her, but she didn’t need to know that yet. He wanted to discuss it with his men first. Get their opinion. An objective opinion.

To her credit, she didn’t balk at the delay. Just said, “Of course,” and moved straight to her horse. Not a whiff of chicanery. Just an eagerness to do whatever needed to be done to achieve her goal.

In two quick strides, Matt arrived at her side and offered a leg up. She smiled her thanks and fitted her foot into his laced fingers. He made a point not to stare at the snug way her trousers outlined her legs when she mounted. He looked—how could he not—but he didn’t stare. He didn’t have to. His memory and imagination captured the images for him. As he turned away to mount his own horse, the feel of her calf brushing against his arm lingered to taunt him. He did his best to banish the sensation, but it proved stubborn.

He couldn’t recall ever seeing a lady in trousers, and now he understood why. It put thoughts in a man’s head. Thoughts about limbs. Shapely limbs, in Josie’s case. With the way she rode, her trousers had to encase well-defined legs. She couldn’t have endured several hours of hard riding otherwise.

Get your mind back where it belongs, Hanger. She chased you down so you could save her brother, not so you could obsess over her legs.