Timeless Passion: 10 Historical Romances To Savor by Rue Allyn

on the boardwalk behind her. She jerked her head around to see Dutch.
    “We can’t stay here.”
    “I know,” she whispered, focusing once again on the cat that shuddered against her. “But I can’t move this cat like it is, and I don’t know what to do.”
    The feline uttered a pitiful mewl, shuddered once more then lay still.
    “Now you don’t have to do anything.”
    “Shouldn’t we bury it?”
    “Not here. And I’m not dragging a dead cat with us through San Francisco.”
    “Please.” The mewling haunted her. She’d never had a pet nor seen a creature die.
    Trahern’s mouth twisted. “I’m a damned fool.” He took off his coat and, wrapping it around the dead cat, lifted the corpse into one arm then extended his hand to help Edith stand. “Come on.”
    “Just one more minute.” She turned and strode to the alleyway.
    “Now what?”
    Edith disappeared into the alley.
    “Don’t go in there.” But his boot steps followed fast on the words.
    Edith was lifting debris away from a small crate. “Just as I thought. Kittens.”
    “No!”
    She heard him retreat a step as he uttered the word.
    “But they’re motherless.” She bent and picked up the squirming mass that turned out to be three kittens.
    “I’m not giving a passel of worthless rat-eaters a place in my home.”
    “Why not?” Edith bundled the kittens into her voluminous shirt.
    “Because I don’t want to.”
    “Where’s your Christian charity, Mr. Trahern?”
    “I have plenty of Christian charity,” he muttered. “I took you in, didn’t I? I’m gonna bury a dead stray, but I draw the line at kittens.”
    “Then I’ll find someone else to care for them.”
    “They’ll be dead by the time you get back here.”
    “Then you leave. I’ll stay. These kittens need a defender,” she challenged. “If you won’t provide them with a safe haven, I’ll defend them here in the street.”
    His jaw dropped. “Do you have a death wish? Didn’t you see what those dogs did? Those men would do worse.”
    “You must do as you see fit, Mr. Trahern, and so must I. I absolve you of all responsibility.”
    Trahern growled.
    At the sound so similar to the dogs, Edith started.
    “God save me from soft-hearted women.” He put his bundled coat down and reached for Edith.
    She stared at him, open mouthed. “What are you doing?”
    “What I should have done ten minutes ago.” He lifted her, kittens and all, and carried her back to the horse.
    “But you’re leaving the cat.”
    “I can’t manage you, the cat, the kittens, and the horse.” He deposited her on the saddle then mounted behind, setting the beast into motion.
    Edith had all she could do to hold her loose, borrowed blouse closed over the kittens, preventing them from falling under the horse’s hooves.
    Perhaps Dutch Trahern could be trusted. Not a word passed between them until he helped her dismount in front of his house.
    “Thank you,” she whispered.
    Trahern stared down at her for a long time then pivoted on his heel. “Tsung!” he shouted, heading for the door. “Get your Chinese butt out here and help.”
    A smiling Tsung appeared before the words left Trahern’s lips. “Ah, you bring Missee home. Good-good.”
    Trahern pivoted again, walked back to the horse and mounted. “I don’t want to see a single one of those kittens when I get back.”
    “Kittens?” intoned Tsung. Her smile grew broader.
    “Where are you going?” Edith felt curiously bereft.
    “To get my coat. It’s the only one I have.”
    “Oh.”
    “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll retire before I get back.”
    Edith swallowed and nodded.
    He kneed his mount into a canter, raising a cloud of dust as he rode off.
    She stared after him. What a curious mixture of fury and kindness was Dutch Trahern.

CHAPTER NINE
    Edith stoked the coals in the kitchen stove’s firebox the next morning. She closed the metal door and reached for the skillet that hung from a hook on the stove’s side