They’d grown up together, their mothers being sisters, and had been close until Joe’s parents moved to Brooksville to start the sawmill. He’d bought the cattle ranch, taking the sawmill over after his father’s death. His own mother had died a short time later, leaving him alone, too.
It’d only made sense for the cousins to share a place. Since Joe was friends with Brooksville’s sheriff, it wasn’t hard for him to get Mason a job he excelled at. The townspeople liked him, the sheriff liked him, and most importantly, the business owners liked him. Rumor had it when Sheriff Birch retired in a few years that Mason was already the favored replacement.
After he bid Mason good night, Joe retired to his own room where he stripped, lay in bed, and stared at the ceiling. Damn bed felt far too large for a single man. In all honesty, he didn’t want a woman around. A woman would remind him too much of Laura, and what he lost when she died a week before they were to be married. No other woman had ever caught his eye or his heart in the eight lonely years since he’d lost her.
Joe stared at his ceiling. Once again he thought about Mason’s proposal. He didn’t seriously expect the widow to want to come to work for him, but no, it couldn’t hurt to ask.
Maybe she would be good for Mason. He damn sure needed a woman in his life.
* * * *
Katie spent a restless night starting awake at every sound, familiar or not. She slept with the shotgun next to her in the narrow bed, and extra shells in the pocket of her nightshirt. She held no illusions—Dorchester wouldn’t give up.
Saying yes to Mason’s invitation to the church dinner might gain her an edge that way as well. If Dorchester thought she was close to a deputy, it might give him pause, make him think twice before he bothered her again. As a widow, it wasn’t like she was too concerned with her reputation anyway.
She was more concerned about staying safe.
Moonlight streaming through her back window illuminated her small mantle clock sitting on the shelf. It had been Paul’s, and she faithfully wound it every day, just as he had. It read three twenty.
That’s what she was staring at when a shadow passed across it. At first she didn’t realize what she’d just seen until she heard an unfamiliar scratching noise at her back porch door.
The screened porch had shutters, but she only closed those in bad weather. The screen door had a hook and eye latch, but anyone could cut the screen and open it.
Softly getting out of bed in her bare feet, she grabbed the shotgun and quietly unlocked her back door, letting it silently swing open. Even though only six feet away, the inner door was shrouded in deep shadows, whereas she could clearly see the intruder in the bright moonlight. There, squatting outside her back door, stooped a dark figure. She spotted a flash of silver and realized he was trying to cut her screen.
She brought the shotgun up. “Who the blazes are you?”
The man straightened with an oath and started fumbling for something.
She fired one barrel, the blast of rock salt punching a hole in the screen and catching him squarely in the chest as the loud explosion shattered the silence. He let out a howl of pain and stumbled away from her porch door. Nearby dogs started barking.
“I asked you who you are!” she screamed in a trembling voice.
He still tried to pull something from his side, and that’s when she spotted the gun belt around his waist. She fired again. While he fell to the ground screaming and clutching his chest, she immediately broke the gun open, loaded two more shells—of buckshot—and aimed. “Drop the gun or I’ll blow your head off with real shot this time!”
Apparently not so badly injured he couldn’t run, he dragged himself to his feet and took off. She raced to the door, fumbling with the latch in the darkness, and stumbled down the steps. As he disappeared into the shadows of a stand of oaks, she unloaded both barrels at him.
Too terrified to return inside, she pulled two more shells from the pocket of her nightshirt and loaded them with trembling fingers. That’s when Ben Ainsley, one of the volunteer firefighters, ran up with only his trousers on, a rifle in his hands.
“Katherine! Are you all right? What in blue blazes is going on?” More local men joined him, until a small crowd of ten men, all half dressed and well armed, surrounded her.
She tearfully repeated her story. One of the men examined her back door and held up a knife. “Here’s what he was using, the filthy bastard. He must have dropped it when you shot him.” He realized who he was talking to. “Pardon my language, Miz Dorchester.”
She nodded, not the least concerned about his swearing. Despite the warm evening she felt herself tremble as she stood there barefooted in the cool, dewy grass. She heard one of the men say, “She don’t look good. Somebody catch—”
She fainted.
Chapter Four
Mason awoke to someone loudly banging on the front door and screaming his name. By the time he reached the front door to find out what was going on, he had his trousers and suspenders on and his revolver ready. He found Jim Smith, one of the men who worked for Joe but lived in town, standing on his front porch.
Joe, also armed, rushed up behind Mason as Jim spilled the story. “Come quick, Mason! Someone tried to break into Miz Dorchester’s place!”
Mason’s heart nearly seized in his chest. “Is she all right?”
“Yeah, but considering she put two loads of rock salt into his front side at a close distance, and fired off two loads of buckshot behind him, I don’t imagine he’ll be too hard to track down.”
“Wait here. I’ll get dressed.”
He nearly tripped over Joe as he turned. “I’ll saddle a horse for you,” Joe offered. “You go get ready.”
Mason slapped him on the shoulder in thanks as he ran for his bedroom, heart racing. Damn it, I should have anticipated this!
Ten minutes later, he was on his horse and galloping alongside Jim, heading toward town. At that speed the ride took less than fifteen minutes, which still felt too long. One of the other deputies, Carl Daily, was already there and organizing a posse.
He raced inside her shop to find Katie sitting up in bed and talking to Shelby Ainsley, Ben’s wife. She looked pale and frightened.
He also didn’t miss she had the shotgun in bed with her.
Pulling his hat off, he stepped close. “Are you all right, Katie?”
She nodded, but looked close to tears. Shelby Ainsley stood and moved out of his way so he could sit down. “Can you tell me what happened?”
She softly recounted her ordeal in a trembling voice that didn’t sound like the determined woman he’d met the morning before. If Shelby Ainsley wasn’t hovering by the door, he’d have pulled Katie into his arms and hugged her until he could make her feel safe again.
“Do you think the posse will find him?” she asked.
“Maybe, maybe not.” He smiled. “But anyone who sees him will probably turn him in. Especially if he goes to see Doc Tyler. Can’t explain away a face full of rock salt very easily.”
She managed a weak smile in return and nodded.
“Look,” he said, “this is going to sound awfully forward, but please hear me out. My cousin and I need someone to help keep us two bachelors in line. Someone to cook and clean for us, that’s all. No farm chores or anything. We don’t live far from here. We’d be happy for you to come live with us, and I can bring you to and from town every day so you can still work in your shop. I’d sure feel better knowing you weren’t alone.”
* * * *
The part of her still terrified over the ordeal wanted to sob yes! and throw herself into his arms. She’d never met his cousin but had seen him from a distance. Both men were handsome and single. It wouldn’t hurt her pride in the least to be a spinster housekeeper to them.
Then she caught sight of Paul’s picture sitting on the shelf by the mantle clock. She wanted to be independent, make him proud of her. How proud of her would he be if she caved in and let his father scare her like this?
“That’s a very fair offer, but may I have some time to consider it?”
He nodded. “Of course.” He hesitated. “My cousin, Joe, wants to come with me to the dinner tonight. Would you mind if he accompanies us? Then you could meet him and talk to him about it.”
She felt a little relief at that. While she’d love to be alone with Mason, on top of this fright, spending time alone with the handsome deputy was too much excitement for her nerves. Not to mention that two large men were better than one to help protect her after dark. “That would be fine. I would enjoy that very much.”
Katie insisted on making Mason breakfast while they waited for news from the posse, and he found her to be an excellent cook, raving about it.
“My cousin gets a taste of your cooking, I might find myself fighting him for your attention.” He winked.
She blushed. It’d been so long since she’d had anyone to cook for. Paul had loved her cooking. “It’s just scrambled eggs and ham, Mason. Nothing special.”
He shook his head. “You’re wrong. You are very special. Not many women would do what you did, stand up for themselves. That takes a lot of strength.”
She was saved a response by the return of Carl Daily and the posse. They hadn’t tracked the guy down. Carl pulled his pocket watch out and wound it. “I’ll stay here for a while this morning, just to make sure he doesn’t come back,” he assured Mason. Carl and his wife lived in town, only a few blocks away.
Despite Katie getting the distinct impression that Mason didn’t want to leave, he finally stood and nodded to her. “I’ll be checking on you throughout the day. You keep that gun loaded with buckshot, you hear?”
She finally laughed. “Don’t worry. It won’t leave my side, even when I go to the privy.” She blushed as she realized what she said, but the men laughed.
“Good girl,” Mason said. “That’s exactly what you should do.” He tipped his hat to her as he left.
Carl smiled. “I think he’s sweet on you, Katie.” His wife was one of the few people in town that she had more than a passing relationship with.
She blushed. “Oh, I doubt that.” But she certainly hoped it.
“I hear right that he’s taking you to the church dinner tonight?”
Her blush deepened, but she nodded.
His smile turned into a full grin. “Good! I was going to ask if you wanted me to come walk you over so you didn’t have to be alone, but if Mason’s taking care of it, I’m sure you’ll be safe.” He tipped his hat. “From intruders. Not so sure how safe you’ll be from Mason if he’s determined to make you his, though.” He laughed. “He strikes me as a right determined man. And only a fool would miss how sweet he is on you.”
On that amused note, he stepped out the back door to help supervise getting her screen replaced.
Huffing in frustration, she busied herself with opening her shop. As she expected, she practically overflowed with customers that morning, some with mending and some without, all wanting to hear her story and see her shotgun. Mason Carlisle stopped by several times, never setting foot inside but smiling every time he spotted her nearly full shop and caught her eye through the door. She supposed he figured if people kept her that busy, she must not be in any peril.
By the time she closed her shop at four o’clock, she felt bone weary and considered not going to the dinner after all. Ben Ainsley had fixed her screen door as well as nailed an additional piece of wood on the outside, over the center portion, to make it harder for someone to break in and unhook the latch. Despite the warm night, she’d also closed and secured her shutters for extra peace of mind.
Another thing that didn’t escape her notice—now that word had spread Mason Carlisle was taking her to the dinner, none of the eligible men who’d been by to help with repairs or check on her had made the slightest attempt to ask her out.
Highly unusual. Normally she would have to turn away at the very least two or three invites to a church dinner.
She pumped herself a large pot of water and heated it on the stove while she filled her small washtub with water. A warm bath would help soothe her nerves and make her feel better. She even unpinned her hair and washed it as well. She carefully dried her hair and pinned it up, even though it was still a little damp in back, and donned one of her best dresses. She couldn’t help but jump at the knock on her front door at six.
Both men stood there, freshly shaven and their own hair damp from washing. Mason made the introduction. “Miz Dorchester, this is my cousin, Joseph Lansing.”
He held out a hand. “Call me Joe.” If his playful blue eyes were any indication of his temperament, she suspected she might have a problem on her hands. His blond hair, lightened even further by working in the sun, stood in stark contrast to Mason’s dark hair. Approximately the same height, neither man was one she’d turn her nose up at.
She swallowed hard. “You can call me Katie. Just let me check the back locks and I’m ready to go.”
She fanned herself as she hurried to her room and checked the screen door, then the back door. Goodness, two handsome men! She chided herself for the next wicked thought that crossed her mind and sent pulses of need to her core. I am a widow. Who says I can’t let them both court me?
The men smiled at her return. They waited for her to lock her front door and place the key in her reticule, which she hung from her wrist. “All right, I’m ready.”
The men flanked her, both extending their arms. Laughing and feeling better than she had all day, she hooked her arms through theirs and allowed both of them to escort her across the street.
When they reached the Fellowship Hall, Joe released her arm and held the door for her and Mason to go first. She didn’t miss how her popularity had suddenly risen as people she barely knew seemed to line up to talk to her. Not to mention several of the single girls shot her dark looks for being on the eligible bachelor’s arm.
She also didn’t miss how Joe, despite drawing attention from several eager single women, made his way to a far corner and tried to keep to himself.
Once she and Mason had freed themselves from the crowd, they made their way over to where Joe sat. “Have you given thought to our offer?” Mason asked.
She licked her lips to wet them and buy her a moment. “I would hate to be a burden on you like that. Taking me into town every day.”
Joe’s eyes never left her face, but he didn’t speak. Mason said, “Ma’am, you might find us to be a burden on you.” He smiled. “We are in dire need of a woman to keep us on the straight and narrow.”
She wondered if Joe normally remained so silent. She addressed her next comment to him. “You’re rather quiet.”
When Joe smiled, she felt his deep sadness. She sensed he’d lost someone as surely as she had. “I don’t have much to say, ma’am. I’m in agreement with Mase, that we’d welcome your help.”
Mason looked hopeful. If she ever lost her heart to anyone, she suspected it would be him. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to do very much,” she admitted. “Not with the shop and all. That wouldn’t be fair to you, and to be frank, I don’t want to give up my shop.”
“Joe’s men take care of most everything on the ranch. We’d just need someone to cook for us. Laundry. Cleaning around the house. No milking or anything like that. And we know you’d need to take care of your business first. I come to town every day anyway. I can make sure you get back and forth safely.”
They fell silent when Reverend Anderson called for quiet. He gave a brief talk about events going on in town that weekend before saying the blessing and opening the line for food. When he finished, she looked at the men. “Why don’t we enjoy our dinner, and then I’ll give you my answer when you take me home? By then we should all know if we’d at least like each other or not. You might decide you don’t want me working for you after talking to me for a while.”
Mason grinned, an easy, open look. Joe’s sad smile nearly broke her he
art. Mason said, “Katie, believe me, we’ll still like you after dinner.”
* * * *
By the time they finished dinner, she did feel comfortable saying she enjoyed the company of both men. Despite her earlier wanton thought of letting both men court her, the reality of the situation sank home. She didn’t want herself, nor either man, to be spoken ill of. Not that she cared so much what people said about her, but as a respected businessman, Joe had a reputation to preserve. Not to mention that Mason was a deputy in line to be sheriff, if town rumors were accurate.
As Reverend Anderson made his rounds of the attendees and approached where they sat, an idea formed in her mind.
The older man smiled at her and shook her hand as he pulled up a chair. “I hear you had quite the scare this morning, Katie.”
She nodded. “Yes, unfortunately.”
“I’m glad you weren’t harmed.” He glanced at the two men. “I don’t see you boys in my church pews very often.”
Mason reddened slightly in the face. “Joe has to work the ranch because his men get the day off. I’m usually helping out on the ranch on my day off, Reverend.”
The minister smiled. “Then that’s an admirable excuse, and perfectly acceptable. I grew up on a ranch myself. I understand the duties.”
He stood to go, but she reached out and stayed him. “Reverend, I have a question for you.”
He relaxed in his seat. “Of course, Katie.”
She glanced at the two men. “Mr. Lansing and Deputy Carlisle have made me an interesting and generous offer, but I’d like your opinion before I give them my answer.”
The reverend looked curious but nodded. “All right.”
Dalton, Tymber - Hernando Heat (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 3