displayed true heroism that night.
Veronica gripped his arm. “I wish I’d been there while Doc stitched you up. I would’ve held your hand.”
Ben strangled on a cough. He doubted she’d be so swift to offer comfort if she knew who’d actually tended him. “A sweet sentiment, Veronica.”
“It must’ve been difficult to return home to your empty cabin after such an ordeal.”
Something in her tone set off a warning bell inside. “I’m used to living alone.”
She licked her lips. “Don’t you get lonely? P-perhaps you’ve underestimated the advantages of having a wife. A companion who’s always on hand to comfort and cheer you.”
Ben fell back a step. He was well acquainted with the advantages of a loving relationship. He’d seen the evidence in his own parents’ union, as well as his friends’ marriages. A fluke illness had robbed him of that chance. God had allowed it. He’d stopped asking why, because the obvious conclusion—that he was unfit to be a father—was too painful.
Why was Veronica suddenly venturing into these waters? She’d never dared before. Was it because he’d arrived with Isabel?
“My thoughts on marriage haven’t changed,” he told her in a gentle but firm voice. “My solitary path is set.”
“Of course, I didn’t intend to suggest otherwise,” she rushed out, her brows forming a deep V.
Ben’s attention wandered to the refreshment table, where Carmen and Honor were engaged in a heated discussion. He craned his neck and scanned the crowd, straining for a glimpse of raven hair and a proud profile.
“What do you say, Ben? Will you join us?”
Ben dragged his gaze back to Veronica, who was waiting for his answer. Not about to be caught woolgathering a second time in the space of five minutes, he nodded. “Um, sure. I’d like that.”
Her mouth curved into a bright smile. “Wonderful.”
He inwardly cringed. What had he agreed to?
“Excuse me.” Carmen rushed to their side. “I’m sorry to interrupt. Ben, can I steal you away for a moment?”
His thoughts leaping to Isabel, he made his excuses to Veronica.
“What’s happened?”
“Isabel left. I tried to convince her to stay, but she wouldn’t listen.”
“Alone?”
Carmen winced and nodded.
Worry mingled with anger. She knew the danger, yet had forged ahead anyway. “How long ago was this?”
“About fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll go right away.”
“Honor and I are coming with you.”
* * *
“Are you decent, Isabel?” Carmen was speaking as she breezed through the door. “Ben accompanied us home and...” Spying her in the rocking chair, she stopped suddenly, causing Honor to bump into her. “Whatever’s the matter? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
Unwilling for them to guess how afraid she’d been, Isabel hid the dagger in her skirt folds. “Who was the last one out tonight? Do either of you remember latching the door?”
“It was me,” Honor said, her eyes apprehensive. “I distinctly remember latching it. Why? Was someone here?”
“The door was open when I got home.”
Carmen rushed over and knelt at her feet. “Are you all right? I warned you not to come alone.”
“I’m fine.”
“Ben needs to hear about this.”
Ducking outside before Isabel could stop her, Honor explained the dilemma. The deputy followed her inside and quickly inventoried the cabin. His intent gaze came to rest on her in somber assessment.
“Did you see anything unusual? Any of your belongings out of place or missing?”
“No. Nothing. I didn’t check the bedrooms closely, however.”
Carmen stood and grasped Honor’s hand. “Let’s check them together.”
Honor nodded and, with a final glance at Isabel, went off to search both rooms. Their subdued conversation competed with the popping and hissing of the fireplace logs. After hanging his hat on the stand, Ben positioned a footstool near her rocker and sank onto it. Then he latched his hands together and examined her features with an intensity that made her self-conscious.
“Why did you leave without telling me? I would’ve gladly escorted you home.”
“I wished to be alone.”
“And what if our thief had been waiting for you?” Concern darkened his eyes to sage green.
It wasn’t personal, she reminded herself. His duty to the townspeople was of paramount importance.
Isabel removed her dagger from its concealment. “I’m not completely helpless.”
Ben sighed and, rising to his feet, motioned for her to do the same. Baffled, she stood and immediately regretted it. In a blink, he’d seized her dagger and waggled it midair.
“The thief has your weapon,” he challenged, jaw twitching. “Now what?”
Isabel stared up at him, a shiver of admiration rippling through her. She’d never get used to this side of the Debonair Deputy, the justice-wielding, deadly serious lawman.
“I wasn’t expecting you to act. You haven’t proven anything.”
“Let’s try again then.” He handed her the dagger. “Pretend I’m an outlaw intent on silencing you.”
Unease settled in the pit of her stomach. Ben didn’t tower over her, but he was one hundred percent solid muscle.
“This is ridiculous.”
“Is it?” He leaned close. “You wouldn’t think so if your sisters had come home to find you wounded—or worse.”
Images of their faces, stricken in horror as they knelt over her prone body, flooded her mind. Causing them sorrow was the last thing she wanted to do.
His hand encircled her wrist like an iron manacle. She resisted, but he was far too strong. Ben had the dagger pried from her fingers in no time flat.
He waved it in front of her nose. “Care to try a third time?”
Anger sparked into a smoldering flame. Why was he doing this?
“You didn’t give me proper warning,” she gritted out.
“And
