He’d planted a seed. That would have to be enough for now. But there was one more thing he had to know. “Before I leave I’m going to ask you a question,” he said. “And I want an honest answer.”
“Ask it,” she said coldly. “I have nothing to hide.”
“The boys who held up the stage were expecting to find money from the Cattlemen’s Association in Cheyenne. They assumed it would be in a strongbox, but they didn’t find it.”
“Yes, I remember that. Go on.”
“Were you carrying that money—either in your baggage or on your person?”
Her eyes widened. A gasp of indignation lifted her breasts. “Absolutely not,” she snapped. “I don’t know anything about the Cattlemen’s Association or their money, nor do I wish to. My only concern is my sister’s children. Are you satisfied, Mr. Lonigan? Do you believe me?”
“I have no reason not to—” Clint broke off, sensing a sudden change. It was the breeze, he realized, finally identifying the feeling. It had shifted. “Lord, the wind...”
“What?” She stared up at him. “What is it?”
As if in answer, a sudden clamor rose from the kennel beyond the house—a burst of yelps and snarls that rose to a hideous, howling chorus.
“Take your hands off me!” Eve sputtered as Clint Lonigan seized her shoulders. His grip was rough enough to hurt as he spun her in the direction of the front porch.
“Run!” he growled. “Get in the house!”
“Why should I? What is it?” She struggled, resisting.
“Hanford’s dogs. They’ve scented us, and they’re sounding the alarm. If he orders them set loose, they’ll tear any stranger apart, including you. Now run, damn it!” He pushed her forward.
A light had flickered on in Roderick’s window. It was moving back and forth, as if signaling. Suddenly the hellish baying grew louder, coming from around the far side of the house.
Eve broke into a sprint. For her, the safety of the front door was mere seconds away. She could no longer see or hear Lonigan, but the dogs would be after him, too. And, unlike her, he’d have no safe place to go.
Tripping over her long skirts, she plunged up the front steps and raced across the porch to the door. Her fingers fumbled with the latch. It held fast. Had it somehow locked behind her when she’d left the house?
As she shrank into the doorway, a half dozen sleek forms came flying around the corner, baying and snarling as they plunged ahead.
Brindled coats flashed in the moonlight as the pack swung away from the house. She wasn’t the one they were after. They were going for Lonigan. He might not be her friend, but that didn’t mean she wanted him mauled to death. She had to stop what was about to happen.
Frantic, she flung herself against the door. “Roderick!” she screamed, shaking the latch and pounding on the heavy oak slab. “Roderick, it’s me! Call them off! Call them off!”
With a sudden give, the latch released and the door swung open. Eve stumbled into the entry, then changed her mind and raced back onto the porch. She couldn’t see Lonigan or the dogs, but the pack’s chilling cry echoed across the moonlit yard.
“Roderick!” she screamed again. “For the love of heaven, call them back!”
For an instant time seemed to stop. Then three blasts of a steel whistle shattered the night. The baying dropped to a subdued chorus of yelps as the dogs wheeled and came loping back into sight. Eve shrank into the doorway as they skirted the corner of the house and vanished in the direction of the kennel.
There was no sign of Clint Lonigan. She could only hope he’d made a clean escape. Friend or enemy—whichever he might be—no man deserved to be ripped apart by those nightmarish creatures.
Knees sagging, she closed the door and slid the bolt into place. Roderick loomed at the top of the stairs, wearing a maroon velvet dressing gown and holding a lantern.
“Eve!” He addressed her as one might lecture a naughty child. “What were you doing outside after dark? Those hounds are trained to guard the property. They could’ve torn you to pieces.”
She willed herself to speak calmly. “I wanted to visit my sister’s grave. I didn’t know about the dogs. You should’ve warned me.”
He didn’t even have the grace to look guilty, though her answer did seem to mollify him to an extent. “I would have, if I’d known you were going to wander around after dark.” He glided down the stairs, pausing two steps short of the landing. “Were you alone out there? I thought I heard voices.”
“I spoke a few fitting words over Margaret’s grave. You may have heard me. I’m guessing the dogs did, too.” It was a half-truth. A flicker of caution kept her from mentioning Clint Lonigan.
“Tomorrow I’ll take you out and introduce you to the pack, let them get to know you. If you can spare an article of clothing, something that carries your scent, bring it along to leave with them.”
“Can I assume the children will be safe around them?”
“Those hounds are like puppies with the children, as they were with Margaret. You might even want to wear one of her dresses when you visit the kennel for the first time. No need to wear mourning in this country. To be sure, there’s plenty of cause for it, but with the dirt and the weather, women say black’s too impractical here.”
“I’m glad of that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going up to bed.”
She started for the stairs, expecting him to move aside and give her room to pass, but he stood fast, offering her the barest space against the wall. “I was hoping—” He broke off, staring down at her hand. “I didn’t see that ring earlier.”
Eve’s pulse skittered. “It was my late husband’s, one of the few things of his I was able to keep.”
“But you weren’t wearing it at supper. It’s very impressive. What’s a bauble like that worth?”
“It’s late, Roderick,” Eve said, cutting him off. “I’ve just had a fright, and I’m exhausted. All I want is to go upstairs and sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”
“Very well. I’ll bid you good-night then, Eve.” He finally moved back against the railing, allowing her room to get by, but barely. His hand brushed the small of her back as she hurried past him.
By the time she reached the landing, Eve felt vaguely ill. She hadn’t counted on this. With the earth barely settled on his wife’s grave, Roderick was already acting as if he owned her. If it weren’t for Margaret’s children, she would pack up and leave on the next stage. But her promise to look after Thomas and Rose would bind her to this house, perhaps for years to come. And anyway, she had nowhere else to go, Eve reminded herself, shoulders slumping. So here she would stay, for better or for worse. She would just have to prepare for a reckoning with the man.
She
