Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Jace rolled over in the narrow cot. Why was the dog making such an infernal noise? Must be a coyote or bear in the yard. Then he came fully conscious. Or someone had invited themselves to the house. In the middle of the night?
He bolted from the bed, pulled on trousers, grabbed the rifle from over the door, and raced across the yard. “Ow. Ow.” Rocks and weeds bit into his feet.
Skip continued to bark.
A yowl roared from the house. At least it wasn’t Dianne’s voice.
A huge shadow leaped from the porch and mounted a horse. Hoofbeats thundered from the yard.
Jace didn’t slow down until he burst through the open door. “Dianne? Where are you? Are you hurt?”
“Jace!” A whisper faint and quivering.
“It’s me.” He found the lamp on the table and lit it. “Are you all right?”
Her eyes practically consumed her face. “Oh, Jace. Am I ever glad to see you.” With a whimper, she flung herself into his arms, rocking him back on his heels.
At first, he was too stunned, too unsettled to react. Then he enfolded her in his arms. “Shh. You’re safe now.”
He bowed his head over hers. What if he hadn’t been here?
He shuddered. Perhaps she’d think it was only her own shakes reverberating through his body.
The woolen coat she wore scratched at his bare chest. But it also provided a modicum of modesty.
It wasn’t proper for him to be holding her when he was only half dressed, but he could no more release her than he could walk on the ceiling.
He knew the moment she calmed enough to realize she clung to him with the tenacity of a burr. A smile curved his lips. But with far less aggravation. Truth was, he kind of liked holding her close.
She eased back and looked into his eyes.
Before she could speak, he guided her to a chair. “Sit while I make you a cup of tea.” He started a fire in the cold stove, filled the kettle, and set it to boil. Then he went to the table and sat across the corner from her.
Her head hung down, and her hands twisted.
He cupped his hands over hers. “Tell me what happened.”
“I heard a noise downstairs. Skip was barking and growling. I grabbed my weapon—” She tipped her head toward a bat of wood in the middle of the floor.
“I didn’t want anyone to go upstairs where Eddie was, so I came down.
” Her face lifted to his. “I thought I could slip past him. I’d scream so loud it would wake you up.
” Searching eyes held his, seeking his reassurance.
“I came as soon as I heard Skip.” The dog hovered at the doorway. “Good dog, you protected them.”
Skip lay down, his chin on his paws, and watched.
“Thank you.” The words were so soft he bent closer to hear, breathing in the hint of mothballs.
He traced his fingers along the scratchy collar. “You always wear this to bed?”
Her sniff was part protest and part teasing. “I didn’t want to confront an intruder in my dressing gown.”
“Very wise. Very wise, indeed. I’m sure he would have run away in horror at the sight.” He tugged at the collar to indicate what he meant.
“Didn’t seem to deter him. But a blow with that stick did.” Laughter rocketed from her, sudden and full-throated. She tipped her head back as the chuckles rolled on and on. Tears trickled down her cheeks.
His hands on his thighs, he watched and waited. Would the laughter hold or give way to—? Yup. She wailed and slumped over her knees.
“Dianne!” Agony flooded his being. He got to his feet meaning to tend to the boiling kettle. Instead, he pulled her back into his arms, her tears dampening his chest. “Shh. Shh. Everything is all right.” He rocked on his heels as he made what he hoped were comforting sounds.
Sobs grew to stutters. Then she rested quietly and placidly in his arms.
Afraid to startle her into a fresh spate of tears, he stood motionless as steam poured from the kettle.
A sigh puffed against his chest. “Was that the man you chased from the place?”
“I didn’t get a good look at him.” He reviewed what he’d seen—the size of the shadow, the sound of the yelling and grunting, and the shape of the horse. It led him to one conclusion. “I believe it was Al.”
Her fingers curled into his shoulders. “What’s to stop him from returning?”
Nothing, unfortunately, but all he said was, “We’re prepared.” He nodded toward the gun where he left it by the door, then shifted his gaze to the hunk of wood. “Besides, he discovered you were able to defend yourself.”
She left his embrace and folded her arms across her chest. “He guessed I’d be alone.”
“He had no way of knowing that.” Had he watched the place and noted that Jace had gone to the bunkhouse? It was the only thing that made sense.
“He expected to have fun with me.” She sank to the chair as if her legs had lost strength.
“Al isn’t particularly bright. Who knows what was going through his alcohol-soaked brain?” The steaming kettle needed to be dealt with, and he moved it from the heat, found the tea, added a handful into the teapot, and poured in the water. He stood back and waited for it to steep.
The minutes ticked past, marked by the steady drum of the clock over the dining room door.
He chose the prettiest china cup and poured tea for her. Then, lest she protest, he filled a cup for himself and carried them both to the table.
The liquid splashed when he set the cups down. The chair creaked as he lowered himself to it. After that, the only sound was the fire crackling in the stove, the clock ticking, and the gentle slurp while they consumed their tea.
Her cup empty, she leaned back and yawned.
“Why don’t you go upstairs and get some sleep?”
“How can I sleep knowing that man is out there?”
“I don’t intend to leave you unprotected. I’ll be in a chair on the porch with the gun. Tomorrow, I’ll find the bars for the door.” Chet used to keep a bar on the company door, but although there were slots beside the side door, Jace had never seen it in place. “Go on. I’ll keep you safe.”
Her gaze was long, hard, and searching. Then she lowered her focus to his chest and further to his bare feet. A smile teased the corners of her mouth. “You might want to finish dressing.”
He splayed his hands over his chest. His skin grew hot. “I’ll be right back.” He burst from the house, intending to run to the bunkhouse, but as soon as his bare feet hit the ground, he was reduced to picking his way back.
Muffled laughter followed him.
Huh. She didn’t need to find this so amusing, especially when it was to save her that he’d dashed out in such a hurry.
His fingers proved clumsy as he pulled his shirt over his head, then sat to put on his socks and boots.
The night air held a chill, and he grabbed a lined jacket and shrugged it on as he crossed the yard.
“I’m back,” he announced at the door. “You’re safe. Go to bed.”
A grin lingered in her eyes. “Did I thank you?”
“I dunno, did you?” He lessened the distance between them and waggled his eyebrows. “What’s the best way to thank a guy?”
“Oh, you.” She waved him away. “Thank you, and good night.” His laughter followed her up the stairs.
When the bedroom door clicked shut, he turned down the lamp, retrieved the rifle, and settled into one of the porch chairs.
How often had he sat here with Chet and listened to the man’s story and wisdom?
That was over and done with, but he couldn’t leave until Al had been dealt with. Could he hope the man would ride away and never be heard from again? Or at least settle in at one of the mining camps.
For certain, Dianne couldn’t stay alone until Al was out of the way.
Dianne lay the heavy coat over the trunk and crawled back under the covers.
She shivered even though—apart from her feet—she wasn’t cold.
It was nerves. What would have happened if she hadn’t been able to free her hands and hit that man?
Was she protected with Jace guarding the house?
She had to believe she was, although she might never sleep again.
Eddie sighed as he shifted in bed.
At least her son was safe and had no idea it could have been otherwise.
Thank You, God, for protecting us and that Jace is still here.
How readily she’d flung herself into his arms. How right it had felt. Until she realized he didn’t have a shirt on. Heat raced up her neck and stung her cheeks at the memory of how she pressed her face to his warm chest. So safe. So protected.
Again, she thanked God.
Sleep claimed her until Eddie called, “Mama, I get up?”
With a noisy yawn, she pulled herself awake and hung her legs over the side of the bed. “Can you dress yourself?” She’d put out clean clothes last night.
He dressed in record time and clattered down the stairs and out the door. “Skip.”
The dog gave him a noisy greeting.
“What you doin’ here?” No doubt Eddie had spied Jace.
Dianne couldn’t hear his reply as she readied for the day. The woolen coat draped over the trunk reminded her of last night, and she shivered.
Downstairs, she prepared breakfast and listened to Jace and Eddie.
“Whatcha gonna do today?” Her son’s curiosity rang clear.
“I don’t have a plan.”
Her curiosity drove her to the doorway. “You won’t be leaving while—?” She nodded to the trail hoping he’d understand she meant while Al lurked about.
His eyes held assurance. “I’ll be staying for a bit. Guess the team and wagon won’t be missed for a spell.”
It was another reprieve—one she could have done without. But it was an answer to her prayers, and she wasn’t about to question God’s ways.
Eddie sat at Jace’s feet, his arm around Skip’s neck.
Dianne patted the dog’s head. When she straightened, her gaze locked with Jace’s.
Everything fell away but the way he looked at her.
Was he remembering last night and how she’d clung to him, her face pressed to his chest?
Oh my. Now, her cheeks were burning. She spun away and hurried inside, not stopping to catch her breath until she stood over the stove.