Wyatt said something else that Jericho let go in one ear and out the other, his attention too fixed upon Ivy’s stiff shoulders and remembering what those shoulders had looked like bare in the moonlight.

As soon as he stepped outside and closed the door behind him, he released a pent-up breath and stared at the starry host. He was as tight as a nail driven high into a horseshoe. What had he been thinking to decide to stay? Such a move had been impulsive and totally out of character for him.

Who was turning into the idiot now?

With a shake of his head, he started toward the ranch-hand cabins.

After starting at the Pinkerton Agency shortly after his return to Chicago, he’d solved several important cases within the first few months. He’d realized what everyone else at the agency had—he was a good detective. And he liked the work. Much more than he’d ever thought possible.

With the Department of Justice possibly offering the Pinkerton Agency a contract for tracking down the hardest federal criminals, the agency had given him this job in Colorado to prove to the DOJ that their detectives were the best. Everyone was counting on him to help the agency get the lucrative and prestigious deal.

He’d stay a night or two at most with the McQuaids, then he’d focus on his mission, one that required all his wits and then some. He didn’t need any distractions. And he certainly didn’t want to put anyone else in danger on account of his work.

His dad had done that, and look what had happened to his mom. One of the criminals Dad had been tracking had kidnapped and killed her in retaliation. And his dad had been a wreck ever since.

Jericho had ended up following in his dad’s footsteps into detective work, but he’d never follow in his dad’s footsteps and get married and put a wife in peril. He knew where to draw the line—had already drawn the line—and he had no intention of crossing it. Not now or any time in the future.

Chapter
5

“How do I look?” The slant of the ceiling of the dormer room prevented Ivy from straightening all the way. But she managed to twirl around anyway and give Astrid full view of her appearance.

Perched on the edge of the bed they shared, Astrid cocked her head, studying Ivy with narrowed eyes. “If I tell you the truth, do you promise not to be sore at me?”

Ivy paused and swished the green skirt with white pinstripes, relishing the silkiness against her bare legs. She knew she needed to wear the petticoat that had come with the outfit, but the fancy skirt was progress enough without having all the other stuff underneath.

“Of course I won’t be sore.” Ivy smoothed a hand over the matching bodice and the tiny velvet-covered buttons that ran up the front, for once wishing their room had a mirror.