Page 38 of Herding Cat

But she couldn’t live with this kind of angst.

She couldn’t.

Trouble was, she didn’t know how to live without him either.

Chapter Nine

Garrett winced when Catherine’s expression went cold and she turned away from him to sweep the little girl into her arms. “Are you okay, Mae?” she asked, holding her tightly, so tightly Mae began to squirm.

“I’m fine.” She peered at the man lying on the sidewalk as the horrified doorman covered him with a hastily procured blanket. “Is he dead?”

Luke flashed a toothy smile. “He’s just sleeping.”

Yeah. With two in the head, one in the chest.

She was a young thing, but apparently not a gullible one. She fixed Luke with a disbelieving gaze that made him cringe and look away. “Was he a bad man?”

Luke’s expression made his thoughts clear. You can handle this one, buddy.

Garrett cleared his throat. “He tried to shoot Catherine, so yes. He’s a bad man.” He tipped his head and studied her. “Are you frightened?” She should be. It had been a frightening moment.

She blew out something that sounded like a snort. “It was exciting.” Exciting? “Like a gunfight on television.”

“Surely Mrs. Parsons does not let you watch gunfights on television,” Catherine said.

Mae grinned. “She can’t keep her eyes on me all the time.”

Holy God. Orphan or not, she had the soul of a hellion.

It made him like her even more.

“Shall we go?” Luke asked, but it was a rhetorical question placed for Catherine’s sensibilities. They needed to remove her from the scene of the threat.

“Yes, please,” Catherine said, bundling the girl into her arms. “I’d like to get Mae home at once.”

As they all got into the car—leaving Tate behind to deal with the police...and the body of the gunman—the little girl seemed fascinated with Garrett’s vest. Though Catherine seemed inclined to keep holding her, Mae crawled onto his lap so she could pepper him with questions.

He tried his best to answer, but his attention was really on Catherine.

He hated the expression on her face. Her features were locked and tight. She avoided his gaze and stared out the window. Even her body language was stiff and unwelcoming.

“Are you all right?” he asked after a while, and she shot him a quick glare. “Are you?”

“I’m not the one who was shot.” He had no idea why her tone was accusatory.

“I didn’t try to get shot.”

“Didn’t you?” Oh yeah. He had her attention now. She shifted around and glowered at him. “You threw yourself in front of me.”

“Um...that’s kind of my job.”

“You could have been killed.”

“But I wasn’t.”

“You could have been!”

“I was wearing a vest.”