Free The Loyal Heart by Shelley Shepard Gray Page B

I don’t know you yet. I don’t plan to make any promises.”
    “Take your time,” the sheriff said easily. “Unlike yourself, I have all the time in the world to win her trust.”
    Robert nodded, then turned away and started back to the Iron Rail. But as he walked, he realized that much had already changed in his heart.

5

    I T MADE NO SENSE . I N JUST FOUR DAYS , R OBERT T RUAX had managed to become a prominent fixture in her life.
    Miranda figured the reason for this was that she simply did not have enough to occupy her mind. Most days, she mended linens, planned menus, welcomed her few guests, and kept up with correspondence. Conversations with her staff were pleasant but impersonal.
    None of those tasks took much time or thought. Until Mr. Truax’s arrival, it had been a struggle to merely get through each day without succumbing to depression, especially since she had been forced to open the boardinghouse to survive and the rumors about Phillip had started. Moreover, she had felt empty inside. Devoid of any joy or goals.
    And she had received the last letter.
    Now, however, wherever she was, Robert found her. He engaged her often, sometimes talking of nothing more than the weather or some interesting tidbit he’d discovered about one of the buildings or Galveston Bay. He asked her questions. Made jokes and asked her opinion. In short, he gave her no choice but to interact with him.
    After the first couple of times, she’d dared to respond. Every time she did, Robert would look pleased.
    She’d likely smiled and even laughed more in the past week than she had since Phillip died. So much so that she found herself forgetting to mourn for him, and she was even able to put her worries aside for hours at a time.
    Miranda knew she’d be a liar if she said this transformation in herself didn’t feel strange. On the contrary, she worried about what was going to happen when Robert left and the support she was gradually getting used to accepting vanished.
    Would she delve back into her dark depression? Would the blackness consume her, finally pressing in deep enough to give her the courage to open that windowpane again?
    The idea was frightening.
    “Knock, knock.”
    Looking up from her desk—and her musings—she saw Robert standing in the parlor’s doorway. He wore dark denims and black boots this morning. He had on a dark brown shirt and a thick vest as well. He looked almost like one of the cowboys who came onto the island from time to time, intent on sampling the wares of fallen women in the warehouse district.
    His dark hair was curved behind his ears and he was freshly shaved. And he was watching her closely. Once again there was no judgment in his dark eyes. Instead, only a lazy appreciation that she would have to be dead not to appreciate.
    “Good morning, Mr. Truax. I trust you slept well?”
    A half-smile formed on his lips. “I did, thank you. And you?”
    “Me? Yes, I did sleep well, thank you.” To her surprise, she realized she wasn’t lying. She had fallen asleep soon after she’d slipped into her bed and had enjoyed a lengthy, peaceful slumber. She’d slept better during the last two nights than she had in the previous two months.
    Realizing he was still standing in front of her waiting, she smoothed the fabric of her pale lavender gown. No gray today. “May I help you, sir? Or did you simply stop by to say hello?”
    His smile grew as if the question amused him. “I came for a reason, of course.”
    She got to her feet. “Yes?”
    “I had a hankering to take another walk on the Strand today.”
    Though she still wasn’t sure what that had to do with her, she responded. “Oh! Well, I hope you have an enjoyable time. As you have already seen, we are fortunate to have a great variety of shops, restaurants, and businesses to sample. Many claim it is Galveston Island’s crowning achievement.”
    She didn’t think it was quite that, but it was a lovely area. Many of the fronts were ornate