Collision of The Heart by Laurie Alice Eakes Page B

gave women the right to vote if they owned—stop laughing at me, Ayden Benaiah Goswell. I am completely serious. The only bad thing that came out of it was that some men realized the error and changed the wording to say that only men owning property could vote.”
    “I know. I know.” Ayden wiped snow and mirth tears from his lashes. “I was the one who shared that tidbit of history with you.”
    “Of course you did. I forgot.”
    “I’m surprised. You don’t seem to forget anything.”
    “Not as much as I’d like to forget.”
    Such as how his deep-blue eyes sparkled like faceted sapphires when he laughed. Such as the richness of that laughter. Such as how much she loved the sound of his voice.
    “You seem to have forgotten about me well enough.” Ayden stepped from the sleigh to guide the horses around in the tight ruts buried beneath drifted snow.
    Mia watched him, flicking glances toward the train for the man with the gun, then back to Ayden. He was too tall, too broad a target for her to feel secure about him walking in front of the team.
    He was also too tall, too broad to look like a professor of classics, history, Latin, and Greek. He was too handsome by far to resemble what people thought of scholars. He resembled a man who hauled freight or rescued maidens in distress.
    He had rescued her from a life of poverty and potential crime. He had recognized her as more than that ragged Roper girl simply because she had been reading Greek when he encountered her.
    “I have forgotten most of the Greek I knew.” The remark was inane. She wasn’t even certain he heard it as he strode back to the sleigh and slid in beside her.
    “You probably haven’t had much cause to use Greek.” He gathered the reins and clucked to the horses.
    They headed off along the tracks. Ayden and Mia stared at the train. They saw no one.
    “Do you remember your Italian?” Ayden asked.
    Mia relaxed with the change in topic and the passing of the wreck behind them. “I refreshed my knowledge when I wrote an article about a lady’s fencing club a few months ago.”
    “I would like to see one of those here.” Ayden urged the team to greater speed. “If you stayed around here, you could start one.”
    “Fencing with ladies was boring after—” She slapped her fingers across her mouth, but the damage was done.
    Ayden flashed her a grin. “After fencing with me?”
    She said nothing.
    “Are you sure you don’t want a match?”
    “Dr. Finney wouldn’t like it.”
    But she would. Suddenly, she wanted to do nothing more than to clash blades with Ayden.
    “Dr. Finney does not rule my life.” Ayden’s hands jerked, and the horses sped up.
    They swung onto Broad Street at a faster clip than necessary. The sleigh rocked onto one runner, and someone shouted at him to have a care.
    He didn’t. He kept up the pace until they reached the sheriff’s office. In front of the door, he leaped out and hitched the horses, then rounded the sleigh to assist Mia to the pavement.
    “I warned you how they’ll view your word in here, so mind your tongue. I don’t want you arrested for assaulting an officer with that blade you sheathe behind your teeth.”
    Mia laughed. She couldn’t help herself. The gurgle of amusement rose from her chest and burbled from her lips. And with it, the rocky shell she’d built to protect her heart cracked just enough for her to see how much she had loved this man, how much she could still love him.
    She tried to stuff a wad of angry memories into the breach to keep the tender feelings safely inside. “I’ll be good, Professor Goswell.”
    “All right.” He offered her his arm and led her into the office.
    Heat and the odors of wet wool, old coffee, and bodies not as clean as they should be filled the room. Half a dozen people steamed around the stove, and a vaguely familiar-looking young man with curly red hair and tired blue eyes stood behind a tall desk.
    Ayden’s arm stiffened beneath Mia’s hand.