Free A Good Man for Katie by Marie Patrick

Laurel’s shoulder. “We’ll find him.”
    Skirts lifted, voices raised, they left the cottage running—only to stop short on the top step of the front porch.
    “Good afternoon, ladies.”
    Astride his beautiful black steed, Chase held Champion’s reins loosely as he rode up beside the picket fence in front of the cottage. Walter perched in the saddle in front of him, socks and shoes in hand, pant legs rolled up to his knees but soaked none-the-less.
    “Walter!” Laurel ran down the stairs. She reached up, grabbed her son beneath the arms and lifted him from the saddle. He stood in front of her, his weight shifting from one leg to the other. “Where have you been? You were supposed to stay close!” She tsked at his appearance. “Look at your clothes. You’re all wet. What am I going to do with you?” Though she scolded her son, tears rolled down her cheeks at the same time.
    Kathryne watched mother and son, but only took a moment to ascertain Walter was unharmed. Her gaze drifted to Chase. Butterflies did somersaults in her stomach at the mere sight of her hero, but he couldn’t have chosen a worse time to see her. She wore the fruits of her labor—dirty face and hands, dust- and dirt-covered pale blue dress. Fine strands of hair stuck to her face with perspiration.
    “I found the Admiral leading his armada of leaf-ships down the mighty Mississippi.” He gestured toward the mountain stream behind him, but his gaze never left her face. The heated tingle his direct stare gave her settled in the pit of her stomach. “He was halfway to the river when I found him. Little legs can go pretty far pretty fast.”
    “But, Mama!” Walter cried, his little face deep red with a combination of embarrassment and excitement.
    “You’re in deep trouble, young man,” Laurel continued, as if she hadn’t heard him. “I want you to sit on that rock in the sun—” She pointed to a boulder in the middle of the flower garden. “—and don’t move until I tell you.”
    Walter marched to the boulder and scrambled to the crest. With a huff, he folded his arms across his chest in righteous little boy anger. His lower lip stuck out and his chin trembled as if he held in his tears. Laurel ignored his pout and turned her attention to the infamous outlaw who returned her son. “Thank you, Mr. Hunter. I am forever in your debt.”
    “My pleasure, ma’am.” Chase touched the brim of his hat with his fingers. “He’s a good boy. Just curious like all boys his age. Don’t be too hard on him, ma’am.”
    Though she knew she shouldn’t be fraternizing with the male sex according to the rules of her employment, especially a notorious outlaw, Kathryne couldn’t help herself. She cleared her throat. “We were just getting ready to eat lunch, Ch— Mr. Hunter. Won’t you join us?”
    Emeline gasped, as did Laurel. Kathryne ignored them both and kept her focus on him. Chase blinked, but not before she saw a shadow of uncertainty pass before his eyes. The expression on his face led her to believe no one had asked him such a question in a very long time and once again, compassion for him rippled through her. She knew of his loneliness, had felt its presence when she touched his saddlebags the night before. With one simple act of kindness, perhaps she could alleviate some of his solitude.
    His soft gray eyes went from her to Laurel to Emeline then back again to her, the indecision she saw reflected there almost palpable and heartbreaking. “We have plenty.”
    “Yes, please join us,” Laurel added to the invitation. “It’s the least I can do to repay you for bringing Walter back to me.”
    He removed his hat, his fingers worrying the wide brim as his gaze focused on Emeline. “Ma’am?”
    “Of course, Mr. Hunter. Please.”
    Chase slid from the saddle and wrapped Champion’s reins around a fence post. “Thank you, ladies.”
    The gratitude in his deep, rich voice struck a cord in Kathryne’s heart.
    Laurel laid out the