Cade's Justice. Pat Tracy
Lyman Thornton persisted. “Having you in our home is the least we can do. Right, Aunt Loutitia?”
“Certainly you’re welcome to stay the night, dear.”
“It’s already morning,” Lyman corrected. “You’ll be more comfortable with us than at one of the hotels. It’s bound to take time to reestablish yourself here, Miss Step. You’re welcome to remain our guest for as long as you wish,” he added persuasively.
Gideon had never cared for Lyman Thornton. Like the majority of Denver residents, he was an eastern transplant. They’d never conducted any business transactions, but their paths had crossed more than once socially. The man projected a snobbish attitude that grated on Gideon’s nerves. The irony didn’t escape him that Emma had charged him with the same fault. Thornton’s suggestion that she stay in his home indefinitely pushed Gideon’s passive dislike to active hostility.
He had no intention of letting Thornton stampede her into moving in with him. Especially when, considering Loutitia Hempshire’s flightiness, the older woman would be a washout as a chaperone. Judging from Miss Step’s pallor, and the way she stood huddled in her shabby cloak, she was in no condition to make decisions for herself.
It shouldn’t have mattered to Gideon what happened to Courtney’s teacher. He frowned. Since the academy no longer existed, the woman was his niece’s former teacher. Not even the flimsiest connection existed between them. No argument could be put forth that she was his responsibility.
And yet, he found himself unable to abandon her to Thornton’s suspect hospitality. Something had passed between the queerly appealing woman and himself. Her earnest, prickly, damnably intriguing manner had nudged him to a peculiar awareness that wouldn’t let him walk away from her.
“Miss Step appreciates your offer, Thornton.” Complications… Knowing he was inviting a swarm of them into his organized household wasn’t enough to nail his lips shut “But she’s decided to stay with my niece and me.” ’Miss Step’s head came up. Some of the dullness faded from her eyes. “I certainly have—”
Since he was fairly certain he wasn’t going to like what she had to say on the matter, he silenced her by sweeping her into his arms.
“Oh!”
The startled gasp had to be less of a protest than the one she’d been about to utter. He noticed again how light she was. A robust breeze could have blown her into Kansas.
She attempted to squirm free. “Now just a minute…” “She hurt her foot earlier this evening,” he informed the clearly shocked group. “She’ll be able to recover more quickly at my place.”
It didn’t matter that his explanation made no sense. People rarely challenged his decisions.
Proving there was an exception to every rule, Thornton spoke. “I don’t think Miss Step appreciates being manhandled. As. for her foot—”
‘Terrible accident,” Gideon interjected. “The pain makes it difficult for her to speak.”
“I can talk perfectly—”
Gideon patted the back of her head. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“Mmmph…”
With her cheek pressed against his chest, her objection emerged as a muffled squeak.
Suspicion clouded Thornton’s hostile expression. “If she injured her foot, a doctor should examine it.”
“Good idea,” Gideon responded. “If it isn’t better by morning, we’ll send for one.”
Miss Step ceased her efforts to free herself. He waited a half second for her to launch a verbal battle, demanding he release her. None was forthcoming. “Well, it’s getting late. We’d best be on our way.”
Gideon strode toward his carriage. Hennesy hadn’t returned. He’d probably joined the bucket brigade dousing the last of the smoldering wreckage that had been the academy. Smoke, and the promise of more rain, ripened the morning air. The driver’s help wouldn’t be needed much longer.
Gideon jerked open the carriage door. Emma Step remained a stiff and unyielding package. Even though she wasn’t struggling to free herself, she still refused to put her arms around his neck. If that was all the form her rebellion took, he counted himself lucky. He wouldn’t have been surprised to hear her yell for help, rather than allow him to carry her anywhere. Maybe the puny blow she’d delivered to his jaw had siphoned some of her spunkiness.
Taking care not to jostle her foot, he deposited her inside the carriage. Her lips were compressed into a tight line. There was a defiant gleam in her eyes as she glared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge him or his considerate gesture. Damned female was too stubborn for her own good, that much was obvious. It irritated him that she didn’t seem to realize how fortunate she was that he’d taken her under his wing.
If the gray gown she wore was any indication of the quality of her clothing that had been burned, Gideon was ready to declare the fire a community service. He remembered the surge of anger he’d experienced when he removed the miserably constructed walking slipper from her injured foot. In the split second when he first saw the newspaper she’d used to add a layer of protection to the worn sole, he’d tried to dull his sense of outrage with a quip about her putting the negative editorials printed about him to good use.
Then he’d noticed the proud tilt of her chin so at odds with the look of hot embarrassment flashing in her eyes. At that point, he’d wanted to pitch both her shoes in the hearth. It hadn’t mattered that she was a stranger to him. He’d been struck by the bizarre urge to buy her several pairs of shoes, and some new stockings—ones with pretty bits of lace instead of neatly darned patches. While he was at it, he’d make sure she had a pair of pantalets that didn’t look as if they’d been fashioned when Martha Washington was First Lady.
He ducked his head inside the carriage. “The last two times I’ve asked you to wait for me, you’ve struck out on your own.”
He wanted her to know he’d kept count of her mutinies.
She stared straight ahead. He discovered he didn’t like being treated as if he were invisible. “I’m getting Hennesy. You will be here when I return.”
She maintained her silence.
“I’m not leaving until you promise to do as I say.”
More silence.
“Stop frowning. You’ve got enough wrinkles as it is.”
As he figured, that had her head pivoting toward him.
“You are the rudest, the nastiest, the most vile man whom it has ever been my misfortune to meet”
“I just said that so you would pay attention. You don’t have any wrinkles.” If she owned a mirror, she would know that.
“Well, you’ve succeeded. You definitely have my attention.”
Probably the same kind of dangerous attention Delilah had directed to Samson before she sheared him like a sheep. “Look, we both know I could stand here for hours telling you how lovely you are.”
Her eyes narrowed. He wondered why he should be surprised. Whereas most women turned to warm honey when they received a compliment, Emma January Step imitated a blast of arctic air.
“Do I appear to be an imbecile?”
There was only one safe answer. “No.”
“Then, once and for all, cease your remarks about my appearance!”
Obviously the night’s events had caught up with her. Rational thought was beyond her. He decided to employ a different tactic.
“Be reasonable. You’ve been up all night, and a hell of a night it’s been—what with Courtney running away, you hurting your foot and the academy burning down. Why don’t we call a truce? After you’ve had some rest