"Don't change the subject. And no I haven't."

"Want to go over a few blocks and eat with me?"

"No."

Travis laughed. "I've got to be the worst man in the world at asking a woman to step out. First, I frighten you to death, then you try to kill me, and now you won't go out to eat with me even though we are both hungry. Somewhere along the line I need to work on my approach."

"You are the worst." Rainey fought down a smile. She had nothing to compare to, but he still seemed bad. "To start with right now and move backward, you are not supposed to hold a lady's hand captive while you walk beside her."

"But if I turn loose, you'll bolt."

"True." At this rate she'd never get to her long list of what he'd done wrong. "And don't argue with me. It's not considered polite," she said in her most teachery voice.

They reached the steps of the porch, and he took her hand in his. "Would it help if I said I'm sorry?"

He brushed his thumb across her fingers and felt the blisters. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine." Rainey pulled her hand away but didn't run. "I just burned my fingers a little. They'll be all right."

Travis studied her, but asked no more questions. He removed his hat and leaned against the railing. "I would like to talk to you about what you overhead from your window above the alley." He swallowed hard and she knew words did not come easy for this man. "I'd like to just talk to you before you decide to run again. I came all the way from Whispering Mountain to find you," he finally said in little more than a whisper.

Rainey took one step up the stairs so she could see his face more clearly. There was something so strong, so hard about this man. His jaw seemed already set to take any blow the world gave him.

"Is that all, just talk?" She studied his dark eyes in the dim light. The memory of his letters made her blush slightly. Thinking of him and standing in front of him were two completely different things.

"No," he answered. "I'd like to look at you, really look." He shifted as if knowing he wasn't saying what he needed to say correctly. "I won't frighten you again, I promise."

He straightened, widening his stance, this man of oak preparing for anything. When she didn't answer, he slowly turned to leave.

"I am hungry," she whispered, wondering if she was making a mistake. In her dreams he could be controlled, but in real life, she wasn't so sure. "Can you afford pie as well as dinner?"

He grinned and put back on his hat. He offered her his arm and didn't try to hold it prisoner. "I can."

They walked the two blocks to one of the cafes where Rainey sold her pies. The hostess smiled at Rainey and gave them a private table by the window.

"You've eaten here before?" Travis asked as he pulled out her chair.

"No," Rainey said. "But it always smells so good."

She watched the way he studied the room and the people. Within a minute she'd bet he knew where every exit was located and how many men in the room were armed. She told herself it was just part of his job, but she couldn't help but wonder if it were not also part of his nature.

They ordered. She asked about everyone at the ranch house and finally the boy named Duck.

"You got that letter." He looked back from where he'd glanced out the window. "I had no idea if you would or not."

"Four," she answered and stared down at her plate, not wanting him to see how much they'd meant to her. "And you?"

"Three, but I mailed five."

"So did I." She remembered how open she'd been in her letters, how close she'd felt to him. And now… it was like someone else sat across from her. She almost laughed when the thought crossed her mind to run home and write Travis about the strange man she'd met tonight whom she thought of as Mr. McMurray. Travis's letters were informative and funny. In them he'd asked honest questions and let her see a hint of his dreams when he'd talked of raising Duck. The stranger before her seemed distant, guarded.

Yes, she thought, she'd love to write the Travis she knew on paper about the hard man claiming his name. The man before her would never say the things written in the letters.

"What's so funny?" he asked without smiling. He pushed his half-eaten meal away.

She raised an eyebrow. "I was just thinking how I feel like I know you better by letter than I do the man sitting across from me."

"A paper man is a lot less threatening than a real one."

"Something like that," she admitted. "A paper one can't bruise my ribs."

He frowned. "I didn't mean to. You're about the size of Sage and I've never hurt her." He smiled. "She's here with me, you know. Jumps in every wagon leaving the ranch these days. Worse than a yard dog."

Rainey laughed. "You'd better not let her hear you say that."

He raised his hands. "Don't worry. I couldn't take another woman in my life mad at me."

Rainey smiled as the waitress delivered two slices of one of the pies she'd baked that morning. She found it interesting that Travis thought of her as one of the women in his life.

She took one bite of the pie, but after smelling it cooking all day, she'd lost her appetite.

He looked up as he finished his slice. "The pie is the best thing here."

Rainey pushed hers away. "I ate too much dinner."

He exchanged plates and ate her pie without commenting. Rainey guessed that anyone watching would presume they'd been together a long time.

She leaned back, thinking they'd talk when he finished eating, but as soon as he laid down his napkin, he asked for the bill and paid out. Without asking if she were ready, he stood and held her cape for her.

Without a word he led her out of the restaurant and across the street toward the capital. They crossed the grounds and took the first side street leading to a bam where the wealthy people stabled their animals. Travis opened a thin side door and stepped back for her to enter.

Rainey hesitated.

"It's all right," Travis said from just behind her. "They keep a lantern on in the barn."

She didn't have the nerve to tell him that she was afraid of far more than the light. But, she reasoned, if he were planning to kill her, he probably would not have bought her dinner first. She stepped inside.

Travis followed, his hand resting lightly at the small of her back. "Wait here," he whispered and vanished into one of the stalls where wagons were stored.

A moment later he returned with a bag. Rainey followed as he moved into the light and opened the bag that contained several little compartments. He tugged at one, pulling it free of the others.

"Open your hands," he ordered as he pulled the string on the bag wide.

Rainey did as he said, but stood ready to run.

Travis put his finger into the leather pouch and pulled out a milky salve. He took one of her hands and slowly moved his finger over the blisters. The cream cooled her burns like magic.

"What is that?" she asked as he rubbed the medicine gently over her fingers.

"It's a poultice Sage makes of slippery elm sap, beeswax, and aloe plant." His fingers moved over her skin. "I wish I'd remembered that she packed it earlier, but we left it in the wagon and didn't bother to bring it inside." His hand continued to gently touch hers. "Do your burns feel better?"

"Yes."

His fingers brushed over her palm where there were no burns. "Your hand is so small," he said to himself. "You should wear gloves."

She slowly pulled her hands away. "I'll remember that," she said. "Thank you for the salve."

He studied her in the shadowy glow of the lantern, then turned and helped her back through the side door. His hand rested on her shoulder in almost a caress.

As they walked out into the night, she said more to herself than him, "I guess you're finished looking at me."

He covered her hand that rested on his arm and walked across the street to the grounds of the state capital without saying a word. Lanterns glowed around the fine new building, but the windows inside were dark. "I'm almost finished," he finally said as he led her up one step and waited for her to turn to face him when he didn't follow. "Though I would like it if you removed your hood once more. I remember your hair blond and short that night after I'd been shot. I'd like to feel what it's like to the touch."

His request was so odd, she couldn't refuse. In the chilly air she removed her hood and shook her head slightly as blond curls tumbled down almost to her shoulders.

He was doing it again. Staring at her as if he were trying to remember how to describe her for a Wanted poster.

She ran her fingers through her hair self-consciously. "In another month it'll be long enough to put up in a proper bun. When I used to teach, I always wore my hair up, even on Saturday."

To her surprise, his hand gently covered hers. When she lowered her fingers, his remained tangled in her curls.

Everything about him seemed so hard and cold, but when he touched her the gentleness surprised her. It was as if he hesitated, as if he feared he might break her.

"I don't think I've seen hair just this color before." He didn't smile as he studied the hair curling around his fingers. "It's like a clear morning sunrise. It doesn't fit your name."

She didn't know whether to say thank you or not. She could have moved away. One step and she'd no longer feel his hand in her hair. But, in truth, she liked the way he touched her, as if brushing something rare and priceless.

When his gaze shifted from her hair to her face, the warmth in his brown eyes surprised her. He lowered his hand to his side.

"Rainey," he said slowly. "I can think of ten reasons I came to Austin, but the true one is I'd like to give you back something you gave me."