Last Stand In Texas. Robin Perini
recognized the look. Not apologetic, not angry, not worried. Panic laced her eyes and had tightened her mouth.
Stefan took a step back from Zoe, putting space between them.
Zoe’s mother scooted between her daughter and Stefan in mama-bear mode. “I’m sorry if she bothered you.”
“Zoe was very helpful,” he said with a wink at the little girl. “I definitely need to get a library card.”
“See, Mom.” She straightened her shoulders. “I told you I could help.”
Her mother closed her eyes for a moment and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Do you need any assistance?” she asked him, entire body taut, practically begging him to refuse.
If he had any sense, he’d walk away right now. Most women would have smiled at him with warm eyes, but she did the opposite.
Retreat would be the best option. These two weren’t any of his business, but something made him hesitate. Should he break his own rules, just this once? They looked like they could use someone in their corner.
The grip on his hat tightened. He couldn’t believe he was even considering the idea.
“I’m browsing for now. I expect I’ll see you around.” With a quick nod at Zoe, he headed to the fiction aisles, keeping the pair in his peripheral vision.
As soon as he’d turned away, Zoe’s mother ushered the little girl toward the back of the library.
Interesting. The sleeves of the woman’s shirt showed a bit of fraying. Her shoes were scuffed. He recognized the Magic Marker polishing up the toe, but she colored her hair. The brown was almost too perfect. She’d fastened her locks away from her face with a clip, the strands hanging long and silky and infinitely touchable down her back, but with a slightly uneven edge, as if she’d cut it herself. Her gold-colored small hoop earrings might have appeared real at one time, but the tinge of green peeking through revealed the truth.
Her gaze had darted back and forth, hyperaware of her surroundings. He’d like to have seen her smile. He’d bet her eyes would light up just like her daughter’s.
Stefan caught himself in his poetic musings. Okay, so she was attractive. Very attractive. Her body filled out her jeans very nicely with just enough curve to make a man notice twice. And he had. He’d also bet she was on the run and low on cash.
His curiosity—and interest—aroused, he worked his way down the book stacks. He could use a bit of intel, and he knew just who to ask. After he completed his primary task.
He scanned the sea of authors’ names and even flipped through a couple of books. Surely one of the monikers would appeal.
A new identity came with a new name.
He’d be relieved to get rid of Léon Royce. He’d never liked it, but he’d been almost dead when it had been decided so he’d made the best of it. In some ways he already regretted this decision, but he didn’t have a choice.
If he were honest, at first, he’d loved the CTC job: danger, excitement, helping people no one else could help. But ever since the Jennings fiasco, he’d volunteered for every dangerous, out-of-the-way job that CTC could throw at him, praying the next challenge would reignite a spark. Something inside of him had broken when that family had died.
Truth was, he should’ve left sooner. Would have, if not for the connections he’d made at Covert Technology Confidential. Except those relationships that kept him here also made him vulnerable.
He needed a new start, a new life, which made his curiosity about Zoe and her mother all the more odd.
Stefan wandered the stacks and each time he rounded the south end, his gaze veered to the woman. Definitely an upgrade from the middle-aged, sour-faced library assistant who’d stalked him when he’d visited several months ago.
The sound of creaking footsteps stiffened his spine before he recognized the rhythm of the familiar gait of the head librarian.
“Léon. You’re back. I haven’t seen you all summer,” a familiar voice said.
He faced her and feigned surprise. “Mrs. Hargraves, how do you sneak up on me in those boots?”
Not that she really had, but they both played the game. Still, she’d realized he’d been gone for months, which meant she’d been watching for him. His behavior had become too predictable. Another sign he should move on.
Mrs. Hargraves smiled, a beam of pleasure in her eyes at his compliment. “Practice. If I’m going to avoid wearing quiet, ugly librarian shoes, I’d better be able to walk this place without making a sound.”
She could probably sneak up on 99 percent of the clientele, too. According to Carder legend, Mrs. Hargraves had been the librarian since the 1960s. Dressed in jeans, Ropers and a flannel shirt, she sure didn’t dress or act like any librarian he’d known, but the woman knew her books.
Over the last couple years, he’d let her pick out one book for him whenever he visited. She rarely went wrong. His favorite to date was Inherit the Stars by James P. Hogan.
“I’ve been saving this for you,” she said, handing him The Prince by Machiavelli.
He nearly choked. He jerked his chin to meet her gaze. Did she know? Or did she think he needed lessons in being authoritative? Either one made the back of his neck itch.
“Thanks.” He took the book, forcing a smile.
“I can see there’s something wrong.” She frowned at him. “Are you okay after your...trip? Not like that last one, I hope.”
Okay, so she was observant, too.
“Or...” She paused for a moment and glanced behind her. “Is it my new assistant you’re interested in?”
A small sense of relief loosened his neck muscles. So his favorite octogenarian had matchmaking on her mind.
He returned the book to the shelf. “You caught me. I may have noticed both of your new helpers.”
Mrs. Hargraves rocked back on the heels of her boots. “The last one quit and Faith needed a job. I liked the look of her. Been here a couple of months. She’s always on time, she’s no trouble, and that girl of hers is a pistol. Reminds me of myself when I was a youngster.”
Faith. Her name suited her.
“You’re collecting strays.”
“Maybe.” She crooked her finger at him, and he bent closer. “Faith’s in big trouble. Skittish as a newborn colt. I don’t know what kind of problem, but I get the feeling whatever she’s running from is about to come to a head. You could help her.” She narrowed her gaze. “I have a strong suspicion of what you folks do out at that ranch.”
He didn’t respond. “Thanks for everything.” He kissed her cheek and started to walk away.
She grabbed his shirt. “She needs you. Don’t ignore your gut.”
Muffled whispers sounded from the tables at the back of the library. Stefan sent Mrs. Hargraves a subtle nod and followed the noise. He paused just out of their sight.
“What have I told you, Zoe? We can’t draw attention to ourselves, and you promised you’d work on your reading.”
“I hate reading. I’m bored. I want to go home and play baseball with Danny. I can’t miss the next season of Little League. He’ll kill me.”
“Look, Slugger, we need to stay here just a little longer. Then...”
“You keep saying that. I want to go home with Daddy. I know he doesn’t like you, but he likes me. He wouldn’t make me sit hours and hours and hours reading stupid books all the time. He’d buy me stuff to play with. Cool stuff.” Zoe jerked away from her mother and plopped down at a table scattered with crayons, construction paper