Page 47 of Fairest of Heart

Titus growled, and his grip on the lantern tightened until his fingernails dug into his palm. His breath heaved as he stared into the night, helpless to pursue. He tried to console himself with the knowledge that even if Rex had been ready to ride, it was likely that the prowler still would have slipped away. A man in dark clothing on a dark horse racing through a wooded area at night would be nearly impossible to track. Titus would return after sunrise and follow what trail remained, but he didn’t hold out much hope that he’d find his quarry. As soon as the tracks merged with the traffic on a main road or disappeared in a creek bed, the trail would go cold.

Unless Penelope had recognized the intruder.

Penelope!

Had the wretch hurt her?

Titus spun and dashed back to the house, his heart pumping with new purpose. Light shone from a couple of the upstairs windows, and the front door opened right as Titus reached the porch.

“Kingsley? That you?”

Light from Titus’s lantern danced off Coy’s bald head. The man hoisted his sagging britches up with one hand and wielded a cast-iron skillet with the other.

“Yep.” Titus didn’t slow. He took the steps two at a time and pushed his way into the house, only to find himself swimming upstream against a current of old men in various states of undress. Exposed long johns, drooping suspenders, disheveled gray hair pointing every which way. And every last one of them hindering his progress.

Questions peppered him from all sides.

“What’s goin’ on?”

“You the one shootin’?”

“Was it a coyote?”

“The horses all right?”

He took no time to answer, just shouldered his way through the throng. “Let me pass. I need to get to Penelope.”

The Red Sea could not have parted more dramatically. Men glued backsides to walls as they made a path for him. He handed off his lantern to a yawning Angus, who stood next to her door, then Titus holstered his revolver and knocked.

“Penelope? It’s Titus. Are you all right?”

Whispers filled the hall, but Titus focused his attention on picking up sounds coming from the other side of the door. There were precious few.

His gut tightened. “Penelope?”

He didn’t want to barge in on her, but if she didn’t answer him soon, that’s exactly what he’d do.

She could be in there bleeding.

Or thinking up a lie to cover up a late-night meeting with her partner in crime.

Titus’s fist tightened as the cynical thought jabbed his brain. He clenched his jaw and forced the thought from his mind. Penelope was not in cahoots with anyone. She was an innocent young woman caught up in an unfortunate situation. He would not let his distrustful nature keep him from seeing the truth again. She didn’t deserve his suspicions. She deserved his help.

Clenching his jaw, he knocked again. “I’m coming in.”

He unfurled his fingers and reached for the handle, but the knob turned before he could grab it.

Hinges creaked quietly as the door opened inward. Penelope stood on the other side in a white cotton nightgown that seemed to be swallowing her whole. Her slightly glazed eyes blinked at him as if trying to make sense of her surroundings, and her hands trembled where she clutched a knitted throw around her shoulders like a shawl.

“Titus?”

Thank God she wasn’t hurt. But she looked so lost. Shaken. Her voice was a broken whisper. It took an act of will not to wrap his arms around her. He ached to smooth her hair and rub her back until her tremors subsided.

Then a thought occurred to him. One that turned his gut rock hard. “Did he . . .” He couldn’t say it.

She shook her head and clutched the throw more tightly around her shoulders. “I-I didn’t even know he was here until Lucky’s barking woke me. He was g-going through my dresser.” She nodded toward the wall where the small bureau stood, the top drawer askew, stockings and white undergarments haphazardly hanging over the edges.

Penelope stepped backward, granting Titus permission to enter and investigate. But when she lifted the back of her hand to wipe a tear from the edge of her eye, walking past her became impossible. He cupped her arm and rubbed his hand up and down over the blanket cocoon she’d wrapped herself in.