as easily as you do mine?”
Floorboards creaked in the girls’ bedroom. Isabel snatched her weapon and replaced it in her sheath, all the while mulling over his accusation. She didn’t want to acknowledge the truth.
“Isabel.” He reached out and stroked her cheek. His fingers were cold, his touch a complete shock, and she flinched. Ben assumed she’d reacted out of disgust, for he grimaced and dropped his arm to his side. “Don’t let your dislike of me jeopardize your safety.”
The girls emerged then. Turning toward them, Isabel surreptitiously pressed her palm against her cheek in the spot where he’d touched her. What had possessed him to do it?
“Everything looks in order as far as we can tell,” Honor announced, her fingers plucking at the ribbons encircling her sleeves.
Ben retrieved his hat. “I’ll take a look around outside.”
“Be careful.” The words were out before she could stop them. At his look of surprise, she said, “I don’t want to have to stitch you up again.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Carmen brought over a small brown sack. “Mr. Hatfield was indeed generous this year. When I told him we had to leave early, he gave us our bags, including one for you.”
“Forget about food for a minute, will you?” Honor reprimanded. “Isa’s had a fright. Someone’s been inside our home.”
Carmen jammed her fists on her generous hips. “We can’t know that for sure. You might’ve pulled the door closed but failed to latch it.”
“I distinctly remember doing it, Carmen.”
“We were all aflutter over the deputy’s arrival and in a rush to prepare Isa.”
“No matter what actually transpired, I believe we have to take the threat seriously.” Isabel wasn’t convinced the man would go to such trouble to find her. It would be far easier to flee the area and take his chances elsewhere. She couldn’t risk her sisters’ safety on a hunch, however. “We’re all going to have to be on our guards.”
“You should’ve seen Ben’s face when I told him you’d left.” Carmen’s gaze was troubled. “He was visibly upset.”
Her heart tripped over itself. “I can’t imagine why. He had plenty of girls vying for his attention, Veronica in particular.” Of all the girls who’d cast their nets for Ben, she seemed the most likely candidate to lead him to the altar.
“Perhaps your company is what he truly wants.”
She sliced the air with her hand. “Impossible.”
“Haven’t you noticed he treats you differently?” Carmen said. “He’s more serious around you.”
Isabel went to the kitchen and deposited the bag’s contents in a festive china bowl with green holly patterns, a hand-me-down from their abuela. “The only reason Ben doesn’t flirt with me is because he knows I’m immune to his charm.” Another thought occurred to her. “Or maybe I’m not the type of woman he’d be interested in.”
There was no reason to be offended, she reasoned, busying her hands with arranging the unblemished fruit. So why then did the thought suddenly irk her?
“Of course he’d be interested in you!” Carmen added her bounty to the bowl. “You’re beautiful and capable and wise. The deputy’s a fair man. I’m certain he’d overlook your tendency to be bossy and hardheaded.”
Honor released a long-suffering sigh. “Carmen, don’t you ever think before you speak?”
Isabel patted Carmen’s hand. “I appreciate what you’re trying to say, but it hardly matters what he thinks.”
“That’s odd.”
“What is?”
“You care what everyone in Gatlinburg thinks about you except for Ben MacGregor.” Carmen twisted to look at Honor. “Don’t you think that’s peculiar?”
Isabel was grateful Ben chose that moment to return to spare her from answering. His cheeks and hands were ruddy from exposure. The impulse to lead him to the fire and ease his discomfort took her unawares.
“I assume you didn’t encounter any outlaws in our barn?” she said, ignoring her sisters’ curious gazes.
“Just a few cows and a friendly feline.” He good-naturedly brushed orange cat hair from his pants.
“That’s reassuring.” If there’d been someone poking around their property, he was long gone. “Would you like a cup of coffee before you head home?”
“Coffee sounds wonderful. As for heading home, I won’t be doing that until morning. I aim to stay in the warming hut.”
* * *
Ben braced himself for an argument that never materialized.
“I’ll gather the proper bedding.”
As Isabel started for her bedroom, the younger sisters exchanged a dubious look. Like him, they must’ve expected her to protest once again.
“It’s barely nine o’clock,” Carmen objected. “Far too early for the deputy to retire. Isn’t that right?”
Isabel wouldn’t relish putting up with him any longer than was necessary, but he wasn’t sleepy, and hot coffee would go far in chasing the chill from his bones. Besides, he couldn’t pass up this rare opportunity to spend more time in the feisty miller’s presence, no matter that a relationship with her was out of the question.
“You’re quite right.” He began to unbutton his coat. “I’d be a fool to turn down an opportunity to spend an evening with three of the most captivating ladies in these mountains.”
Carmen blushed to her hairline. Honor laughed. Isabel wore an indignant frown. Good. The more he riled her, the less likely he’d do something stupid. He couldn’t afford to forget his reasons for not getting serious. Isabel was the one woman who could make him forget, and she deserved a man who could give her what every woman dreamed about...a house full of children to love and nurture.
Her irritation was clear in the way she bustled about the kitchen, thumping cups and plates on the counter. She was entrancing, even in her annoyance, and Ben had to consciously work to keep his gaze averted. In contrast, Honor and Carmen were gracious hostesses. They spoke of upcoming Christmas festivities and encouraged him to indulge in the snack Isabel provided, airy yeast rolls slathered with creamy butter and tart blackberry preserves washed down with cinnamon-laced coffee, a traditional drink recipe passed down from their abuela.
As soon as the clock struck ten, Isabel fetched the bedding and insisted on accompanying him to the hut. Positioned several yards from the gristmill and stream, the soundly built structure contained a single chair and a woodstove. It was large enough to hold about five or six people comfortably. One tiny, bare window gave the occupants a view of the mill.
While Isabel rolled out the woolen blanket and quilts that would serve for his makeshift bed, Ben retrieved kindling from the box in the corner
