for effect.
Duncan burst into laughter and then cleared his throat. “Exact intervals? Do ladies have a book for such things?”
“That, Mr. Murray, is a secret best kept.” Ellie’s mood lightened. “Besides, we’ve only heard tales of such a book.”
“Tales spun by Mrs. Smith and her daughters,” Camy mumbled beneath her breath.
“To answer your question,” Ellie continued, “Camy does have a way of finding trouble when none should be had.”
“Like today?” Duncan chuckled.
“Yes,” Ellie answered. “Although I must say this is a first, as I’ve never recalled her having an accomplice.”
“That is not so.” Camy dipped her head to hide the embarrassment staining her cheeks as she recalled the time her sisters talked her into climbing a tree. “What about the time you told me Red had climbed the tree and couldn’t get down?” She glanced at Duncan. “Red was an old tomcat, so old we made up stories about how he’d been on the boat with Noah. He couldn’t climb over a pebble, let alone up a tree. In my worry, I never once thought my sisters were telling a tale.”
“Oh, we weren’t. I promise. Red had climbed the tree like a spry wildcat. Of course that was after Mara had dunked him in the water bucket to give him a bath. How were we supposed to know he’d gotten himself down while we fetched you?”
“It sounds as if you’re quite the adventurer, Camy.”
“Quite.” Ellie laughed. “The exact reason the Northrops visit us often.”
“At least, I’ll be saved the sight of whoever attends me, even if I have to suffer their poking.”
“Oh. I found these.” Duncan lifted her chin with the pad of his thumb and then brushed the tips of her ears as he settled her wire rims into place.
Camy sucked in a breath as the lines of his face and the dusting of his dark beard came into focus. Or was it from the warmth of his fingers as they curved around her ears? The dark shadow gracing the curve of his jaw illuminated the gold flecks vibrating in the bed of his moss-colored eyes. Dark-colored curls clinging to his brow and curling near his collar dripped droplets of rain. She could have stared at him for hours, learning every detail, as if he hadn’t already been branded into her thoughts. He’d make a fine husband. Too bad she would never be agreeable to the idea.
He glanced at her wound and then rubbed his palm over his prickly jaw. “My apologies for what happened at the creek. I should have listened to your warning.”
A flutter swirled deep within her chest, a desire to have a husband as handsome as him, to be a wife. A mother. Her thoughts trailed into dangerous territory. She’d be a rabbit thoroughly caught in a trap if she didn’t remove Duncan from her presence. A rabbit chasing a carrot never to be had. No doubt, Duncan had plenty of ladies vying for his attentions, ladies much more efficient at balancing books on their heads. “My th-thanks.”
She tore her gaze from him and stared at the fire. Her heart cracked a little with each snap of an ember. Her faults would keep her from finding a decent husband, just as they had kept her and her sisters from having a father to love them and protect them. It had been one of her many accidents that had propelled her father to rid himself of his daughters. Did Hamish think to buy her a husband with her land because she couldn’t find one any other way? Camy wasn’t foolish enough to believe loyalty could be purchased. It had never worked with her father on the rare occasions he’d visited.
Duncan nodded. “Your spectacles must have flown off before you started downriver. I’m just glad I found them.”
“I cannot marry you.”
“I know.” He opened the faded blue curtains Ellie had made from one of their old dresses and propped his shoulder against the frame.
“Then why are you still here?”
Looking at her, he held her gaze for a moment. “I keep my word.” He glanced out the window. “It looks as if you have company.”
“Most likely Mara with the doctor,” Ellie replied.
“By the looks of it, I’d say there is more than one man and they’re armed.”
Camy’s heart climbed into her throat and then dropped to her toes. “Thugs.”
She sprang out of the chair when she realized the possibility of the danger walking toward their front door. The room swam before her eyes and she pressed her palms against the table to gain her balance as Ellie grabbed hold of her arm to steady her.
“What, you think to take them on in your condition?” Ellie’s voice teetered on bitterness and Camy knew that if these men weren’t the Northrops, Ellie would have them moved from the farm before the sun set.
“I won’t let them intimidate us, Ellie.”
“Neither will I.” Duncan yanked the rifle from the rack and swung open the door.
“You can’t go out there!” Camy squeaked. Her heart pounded against her chest. Her ears began to roar. “You don’t know what they’re capable of doing. What they’ve done. What they said they’ll do if we don’t relent.”
Fear tugged at her insides. Nightmares of masked men and torches had plagued her sleep for months. Cruel jests toward her sisters and the threats made against her came crashing into her thoughts.
“If they intend harm, I’ll see them gone.”
“This is not your business,” Camy argued. She’d accused him of being one of them and he’d shown her kindness. He’d carried her from the river, up a steep incline. True, she didn’t want a husband. True, she had wished him gone, but she did not wish him dead, which was a certainty if he came between the Simses and the men who coveted Sims land.
He looked over his shoulder and straight into her eyes. “Until we decide things between us, it is.”
Decide things between us? The words had rushed out of his mouth without thought, and he watched her mouth open and close like the wings of a butterfly. A response must have formed on the tip of her tongue, but not a single one released. And truly he knew how she felt, as he didn’t have anything else to say either. Nothing could ever be between them, but for the time being he’d pretend otherwise and let her think so, as well. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if she and her sister decided to stand against three armed men, and if these men were on a payroll financed by his bank account as the sisters seemed to think, it was his business.
“Camy, sit down before you fall over,” he demanded, and prepared himself for a possibility that these were men hired by the railroad to torment innocent, helpless females.
As he stepped beneath the stoop, pulling the door closed behind him, a tall lanky man with a rifle propped against his shoulder jumped from the back of the buckboard before the driver even slowed his horse. Another man of smaller stature climbed from the passenger side and rushed to the other man’s side. The driver slid the brake into place and dropped the reins. He pulled a black bag from the back of the buckboard, and Duncan eased the tightness from
