she said.
“Any decent man would be.”
“Are you offering to be our ‘protector,’ Mr. Constantine?”
His lids dropped over his eyes, and a muscle jumped in his cheek. Serenity turned her back on him, took a bowl from the cupboard, ladled soup from the cast-iron pot on the stove, and set the bowl down hard on the table. She returned to the worktable, uncovered the bread, sawed off a chunk and tossed it on a plate. She plunked it down beside the soup, along with a spoon.
Constantine continued to stand. After a moment she realized that he was expecting her to sit first. She wanted to storm out, but that would be giving in. And she would not give in.
She took the chair farthest from him and sat very still, staring at the table while he ate.
“My compliments to the cook, ma’am,” he said. His voice sounded almost hollow. Had she actually said something that had shaken his seemingly unflappable calm?
What kind of man was he, really? It had been a very long time since she’d bothered to consider what “type” any man was. They had all become the same to her, and she never attempted to look beyond her assumptions. She didn’t even want to try.
Why, then, did she look at this man and feel that somehow she had been wrong in her first judgment of him?
“I would like to ask you a question, Mr. Constantine,” she said. “How does a man come to be a bounty hunter?”
His face became a perfect blank. “Most do it for the money,” he said.
“But not you?”
“I reckon my reasons are my own, just like yours.”
“And do you consider yourself to work on the right side of the law?”
Every one of his muscles seemed to contract at once, and he set the spoon down with exaggerated care. “Yes, Miss Campbell,” he said, matching her ice for ice. “I do. If you’ll pardon me, I’ll be going back to the barn.”
She had offended him. Truly offended him. And she felt no satisfaction at all.
“Wait,” she said. “Helene didn’t take your measurements.”
“It isn’t necessary,” he said brusquely, heading for the door.
“Bonnie won’t be happy if I let you leave tomorrow half-dressed.”
He hesitated, looking back at her, searching her face. Her heart turned over. She knew where the sewing things were; she’d done plenty of mending herself. It would only take a moment to get the measuring tape.
But to touch him, to lay the tape over the firm breadth of his back and shoulders, to feel his warm skin under her fingertips…
“I’ll ask Bonnie to do it,” she said, darting past him and out the door.
Bonnie was carrying a pail of fresh milk toward the house when Serenity met her.
“What’s wrong?” Bonnie asked, setting the pail on the ground. “What did he do?”
“Nothing,” Serenity said, releasing her breath. “Helene is resting. Can you take Constantine’s measurements?”
The redhead grinned. “It will be my pleasure.”
“You find him…attractive, don’t you?”
“What woman wouldn’t?”
It was not as appalling a question as it sounded. Bonnie knew very little about Serenity’s past except that she had had some trouble with men. Everyone at Avalon had, at one time or another. But Bonnie’s own troubles and former profession hadn’t crushed her spirit or her ability to be drawn to the opposite sex. Even to a complete stranger.
Serenity couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be as strong as Bonnie.
The older woman lost her smile. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That was a stupid thing for me to say.” She looked at Serenity more carefully. “He said something to upset you, didn’t he?”
“Don’t be silly.”
But Bonnie continued to peer into her face, searching for the answers Serenity had never been able to give her. “You’re upset about the branding. I suggested we hire a few boys from town—” She held up her hands before Serenity could protest. “I know. But in fact we have someone right here who could help.”
For a moment Serenity didn’t understand. When she did, her answer was immediate.
“Never,” she said. “I want him gone.”
“Even if he could make all the difference between a good season and a bad one?”
“Even if he were willing, and I don’t see why he should be, he is only one man. How can he make a difference?”
“If it’s that you don’t want to ask him, I can—”
“No. He’ll ruin everything. He—” Serenity swallowed and took a deep breath. “We all agreed on terms when we came together here. We would never ask for the help of any man. Do you want to go back on that promise, Bonnie?”
“She won’t have to.”
Constantine came sauntering down the stairs from the porch, a blanket draped over his shoulders, quiet as a panther. Serenity hadn’t even been aware he’d come outside, let alone that he’d been listening.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, Miss Campbell, Miss Maguire,” he said, nodding to each of them in turn, “but Miss Maguire is right. And, I owe you a debt, and I’d be glad to help out for a week or two.”
IT WAS A MISTAKE, and Jacob knew it.
He thought he’d made his decision. He’d intended to leave tomorrow, just as he’d promised Miss Campbell…borrow a horse and get right on Leroy’s trail. It wouldn’t have gone too cold for a werewolf. Not yet.
But it might be in a week or two. He was about to sacrifice not only the bounty, which he needed, but the chance to bring another bad man to justice. And Serenity Campbell had been right to mock him when she’d asked him about becoming “protector” to these women. He’d pried into their business when he had no right or reason to, and every reason not to. God knew he wasn’t fit to offer protection to anyone, let alone…
He tried without success to shake off the bitter memories. He hadn’t taught Ruth to protect herself. She’d been a gentle soul, and he hadn’t thought it was necessary. He’d sworn never to make himself responsible for any woman again.
If it weren’t for the Code—the same code that wouldn’t let him forget a debt—he wouldn’t be here now, able to make a choice like this. He would have been dead—if not physically, then in every other way that mattered. He would have thrown himself into a fight he couldn’t win, walked right into the Renier stronghold to take his revenge for Ruth’s murder and started shooting without caring who he killed.
But
