Free When Love Calls by Lorna Seilstad Page B

apparently, they were sending a message.”
    “To whom?”
    He picked up one of the bricks and removed the note. He turned to the other restaurant patrons. “Are any of you with the telegraph company?”
    The two men who’d been at the other window nodded.
    “Then this special delivery is for you.” He offered them the notes.
    “Lincoln, what are you talking about?”
    He led her toward the door, glass crunching under their feet. “Apparently, this whole mess is due to a union problem.”
    “Someone from the telegraph company smashed the windows?”
    “According to that note, yes.”
    All color seemed to wash from her face, and she swayed.
    He steadied her. “Are you all right?”
    “I need to get home.”
    “As soon as we speak to the police, I’ll get a hansom cab and take you home.” They stepped outside onto the sidewalk, and he watched her scan the crowd.
    Who was she looking for? Her instructor? A prickly feeling inched up his spine. Or was it someone else?

    Hannah’s sisters would be worried sick by now. She sat in a hansom cab beside Lincoln with the sunlight rapidly fading. She should’ve been home over two hours ago, but by the time they’d bandaged Lincoln’s arm and spoken to the police, her hopes of getting home early had shattered like the restaurant’s windows.
    “You sure you’re not hurt? I tackled you pretty hard.” Lincoln touched her arm.
    “I’m fine.” But she’d be sore tomorrow. “I suppose I owe you a debt of gratitude.”
    “You make it sound so painful.” His blue eyes teased her.
    “Every time I’m sure I want nothing to do with you, you do something nice and almost convince me otherwise.”
    “Almost?”
    She didn’t answer. Kindness oozed from Lincoln, but he had taken their farm. Did he expect her to forget that? “Can you ask the cab to stop here?”
    “But we’re nearly three blocks away.”
    “Getting out now is for the best. I can’t risk being seen with you escorting me home.”
    He informed the driver, and she adjusted her hat. “Any more glass shards?”
    Gripping her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he tilted her head to one side and then the other. “You look perfect.” He brushed over the scratch with the pad of his thumb. “Except for this.”
    The cab stopped, and Lincoln helped her out. “I’d feel better walking you all the way home.”
    She held up her hand. “Thank you for the offer, but you can’t.” She dipped her head in a brief nod and began to walk away.
    “Hannah,” Lincoln called, “if you need anything, anything at all—”
    “Thanks, but I won’t.” She flipped up her hand without turning around. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

 10 
    What if he wanted to worry about her?
    Lincoln climbed back in the hansom cab and told the driver to follow Hannah at a distance until she got home. She never turned to see if he was still there, but that didn’t surprise him. When she finally reached the front porch of the tiny rented home, the driver snapped the reins, and Lincoln felt an odd tug at leaving her. Why did he feel so responsible for Hannah Gregory when she seemed so determined to have nothing to do with him?
    He leaned his head back against the cushioned leather seat and closed his eyes. His stomach rumbled, reminding him it was well past dinnertime. He should have insisted on taking Hannah some place nice after the ordeal she’d gone through, but she probably would have declined. He laughed wryly. Probably? No, she certainly would have declined. If he was a smart man, and he was, he’d put Hannah Gregory out of his thoughts.
    Unfortunately, his thoughts didn’t seem to care a whit about his intelligence.

    Charlotte removed another sliver of glass from Hannah’s hair. Even after thirty minutes of picking through her older sister’s tresses, she’d yet to learn anything from Hannah, other than hersister had been at a restaurant where someone had thrown a brick through the front