Chapter 6

Lou felt like crying and probably would have if not for the fact that she refused to look like a fool in front of the late-afternoon stragglers at the Sunday get-together.

Resentfully, she watched Cynthia fawn all over Trent. That Cynthia Connelly had obviously sunk her claws in the poor, unsuspecting parson.

She’d give anything for some advice from another woman who would understand how it felt to be in love, but Deborah was ailing again, and Micah had sent her up to bed for the rest of the day. All the other women were old, unmarried, or had been married too long to remember what it felt like to be in new love.

“Why don’t you call her out?”

Nehemiah Esther Testament’s gruff voice made Lou jump. “You scared me to death, Neh.”

“You going to tell that bobcat to get her claws out of your man?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Well, it’d be better than standing on the porch watching them walk off toward the creek like a courtin’ couple.”

“If Trent prefers Cynthia, there’s nothing I can do about it. Besides, what do I care anyway?”

“You care. That’s plain to see. And if a man I cared about was about to get hisself caught like a worm on a hook by that sneak, Cynthia Connelly, I wouldn’t stand for it.”

“Well, you aren’t me.” Lou turned and sat on the railing. She couldn’t watch anymore. Trent wasn’t exactly pushing Cynthia away, so who knew if he really wanted to be rescued?

“Fine. Personally, I think you ought to just carry him off and find another preacher to do the marrying.”

Lou grinned. “Is that how you’re going to get your man?”

“Sure. That’s the way we always do it. How else?”

“You could let a man take a shine to you,” Lou said dreamily. “Then he’ll ask you if he can come calling, and in a few months you’ll be betrothed. And not long after that, you’ll be married. And no one had to be forced or tricked into it.”

“You got it bad for the parson, Lou.”

Lou jerked her chin and stared at the girl. “We weren’t talking about me. We were talking about you.”

“Maybe so. But if you don’t do something, your parson is going to get tricked into marrying Cynthia, and by then it’ll be too late for you to carry him off to a preacher. You’re worth ten of Cynthia; everyone around here knows that. But you have to make sure the parson knows it, or you’re gonna lose him.”

Lou would have replied, but the sound of Mr. Testament’s voice interrupted. “Nehemiah Esther, get yourself to the wagon, girl.”

“Comin’, Pa!” She glanced back at Lou. “Remember what I said, Lou. Don’t let another girl have the man you want for your own. That Cynthia don’t deserve a decent man. Even my brothers don’t want nothin’ to do with her, and you know they’ll pretty much spark to any girl that’s old enough to get married.” She hopped off the railing and headed toward the stairs. “And don’t forget the parson’s boys. Do you want Cynthia to be their ma?”

A jolt of reality shot through Lou at those words, and she stared silently after her friend. The girl might be uncouth and a little warped in the head about the way things should be, but that wasn’t her fault. In this case, she had a point. Cynthia wasn’t going to get free and unfettered access to Timmy and Davy if Lou could help it. It was one thing to let Trent fall for the annoying girl. But it was another thing altogether to stick the boys with Cynthia for a mother.

Armed with a sense of purpose, she strode to the barn and saddled Summer.

Timmy entered just as she was walking the horse to the door. “Where you going, Lou?”

Lou smiled. “Just for a ride. It’s been a few days. I can’t have Summer getting fat and lazy.”

“Can I come with you?”

“Not this time.”

The disappointment on his face almost caused Lou to relent, but she knew if he came along, she wouldn’t have the gumption to tell Trent how she felt about him. With Cynthia hanging onto his arm, it was going to be difficult enough. But Lou had always believed in the direct approach, and Trent needed to make a choice.

She rode down the trail toward the creek, her heart pounding, unsure of what she was going to say. As much as she’d like to tell Trent all the reasons Cynthia wasn’t right for him, she knew that speaking ill of someone—even someone who deserved it—wouldn’t be right. Slowing Summer to a walk, Lou felt the heat sift from her. Trent was a good man with a heart after God. If he chose Cynthia to be his wife, then it would be for a good reason. She had no right to tell him whom to love. Tears pricked her eyes at the thought of Trent marrying someone else, but she turned Summer back to the house. If she turned him away from Cynthia through underhanded means and vicious slander, she’d be no better than the Testaments in her methods.

A scream sliced through the air just as Lou was about to kick the horse into a trot. She reined the mare hard and whipped around.

Trent eyed the snarling dog warily. Cynthia had a stranglehold grip on his arm, and he knew there was no way he could fend off the animal if it sprang on either one of them.

He could kick himself for not paying closer attention to their surroundings. Cynthia’s constant chatter and his pounding headache had worked together to disorient him until they were facing the large dog, which was obviously a mixture of some kind of pet and a wolf. It stood in their path, matted gray head down, teeth bared. The poor animal looked half-starved, but as sympathetic as Trent was, he didn’t want to offer any part of his anatomy for a meal.

“Shoot it, Parson,” Cynthia screeched.

“Shhh.”

The foolish young woman was making the dog more nervous with her screaming and obvious terror.

“Do not try to shush me when I’m staring at a rabid dog. Hurry and shoot it before it kills us both.”

“I don’t wear my gun on the Lord’s Day.”

A gasp escaped her throat. “What kind of man doesn’t wear his gun?”

Irritation clamped hard within Trent’s chest at her berating. “Apparently the kind of man I am. But rather than argue, how about slowly backing up before the dog pounces?”

The dog advanced, its yellow teeth bared.

Cynthia buried her face in Trent’s shoulder and screamed. The dog crouched menacingly. Trent tensed, aware that they were in immediate danger.

In a bold move, he disentangled himself from Cynthia’s grip and shoved hard, sending her sailing to the frozen ground just as the dog lunged.

Knowing there was no time to evade the attack, Trent raised his arms to defend himself and said a quick prayer for mercy. Crack! A gunshot rang through the air, and the dog yelped, landing inches in front of Trent. Thank You, Lord.

“Are you all right, Trent?” Louisa reined in her horse and dismounted.

Now that the fear of the moment was over, Trent’s chest filled with shame. What sort of man needed to be rescued by a woman?

She looked him over. Relief washed across her face, and Trent couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you for coming along at the right time.”

“Glad I was nearby.”

“Doesn’t anybody care whether or not I’m all right?” Cynthia’s voice broke.

Giving her a quick glance, Louisa nodded. “You look fine to me.”

She knelt before the wounded dog. A low, warning growl came from its throat.

Even wounded, the animal had the power to do harm if a person got too close. “Be careful, Louisa.”

“If you had shot straighter in the first place, that creature would be dead!” Cynthia’s tearful voice rang shrilly into the dewy air.

Rallying, Trent collected his thoughts and his manners. He walked to where the poor girl still lay on the ground and crouched down beside her. “Are you hurt, Miss Cynthia?”

To Trent’s dismay, the girl jerked her chin and turned away. “Not that you care, but I’m fine. A gentleman would never manhandle a lady and shove her to the ground when she’s just trying to get him to protect her.”

Just as he was about to apologize, Louisa spoke up. “He saved your ungrateful hide, Cynthia Connelly. You should be kissing his boots instead of trying to make him feel bad.”

Trent blinked as Louisa stood and shrugged out of her coat. She regarded Trent evenly. “Can I bother you for your belt, Parson?”

“Louisa Stafford.” Cynthia rose to her feet, jerking away from Trent’s offered assistance. “That is absolutely indecent.”

A scowl twisted Louisa’s face. “I want to muzzle the dog so I don’t lose a finger carrying her home on Summer.”

Alarm seized Trent. “Wait a minute. What do you mean you’re taking the dog home? Don’t you think you should go ahead and … finish it off?”

Louisa’s eyes flashed as she turned on him. “If I had wanted to kill the dog, I wouldn’t have shot it in the shoulder.”

Cynthia gasped. “You mean you missed on purpose?”

“Of course.” Louisa frowned, turning her gaze on Trent. “I could never kill an innocent animal just for trying to protect itself.”

“Protect itself?” Cynthia’s shriek was beginning to grate on Trent’s nerves like a squeaky wagon wheel, and he’d had just about enough. She pressed her hands to her hips in an unladylike manner and huffed. “Louisa Stafford, you need your head examined.”

“Do you need help?” Trent asked Lou, handing over the belt she’d asked for.

A smile curved her generous mouth, and he swallowed hard. Oh, how he’d love to kiss those lips.

“What’s goin’ on here?”

“We heard a gunshot up at the house.”

Trent jumped as though caught stealing from the candy jar.

To his relief, it was only Kings One and Two.

Cynthia burst into tears. “It was just awful, King One. That horrid animal attacked me.”

“It did?”

He pulled out his Colt, determination carved on his face.

“Don’t you go anywhere near this dog, King One, or I’ll wing you again,” Lou warned.

“You see?” Cynthia said, through her tears. “Louisa and the parson care more about that horrible, vicious creature than they do me. Will you please take me back to the ranch?”

“Of course I will, Miss Cynthia. Don’t fret none. Lou’s just one crazy gal. You know that.” He dismounted and lifted the trembling young woman into his arms. In true Testament-like fashion, he carried her to his horse and deposited her in the saddle.

Trent watched in bewildered fascination as King One was transformed from uncouth simpleton to knight in shining armor. He swung up behind her, and they left without so much as a good-bye.

“The dog’s lost a lot of blood, Trent.” Lou’s eyes glistened. “We need to hurry if I’m going to be able to save her.”

Moving slowly, Trent and Lou worked together to get the belt around the growling animal’s nose and jaw, effectively robbing the dog of her ability to bite.

The animal whined when Trent lifted her, wrapped in Lou’s coat, and carried her to the horse.

He turned to Lou. “Climb up, and I’ll set her in front of you.”

“Thank you, Trent. I couldn’t have done this alone.”

Though he reveled in the appreciation, he knew Lou Stafford could do anything she put her mind to. After she was sitting in the saddle with the dog lying in front of her, they headed back up the trail toward the house.

“What were you doing out riding alone?” he asked, more for something to say than because he needed an answer. Lou loved to ride and often did so on the spur of the moment.

“To be honest, I was looking for you and Cynthia.”

“Oh? Was something wrong? Are the boys all right?”

“They’re fine. But they won’t be if you marry Cynthia Connelly. They’d be miserable, Trent.”

“Marry Cynthia? Why would you think such a thing?”

Louisa sniffed and gave him a wry grin. “Let’s just say she looked mighty comfortable on your arm.”

He couldn’t resist a sly glance upward. “Jealous?”

“Never in a million years, Trent Chamberlain, and don’t you forget it.” She sat ramrod straight and stared ahead.

The dog growled as if in agreement.

Trent shook his head. He’d effectively offended two women and a dog today. One he wasn’t so worried about. The dog had a muzzle around her mouth and couldn’t hurt him. The other woman intrigued him beyond belief.

As they walked in silence, curiosity began to burn a hole inside of him. When he could stand it no longer, he voiced his question. “What did you plan to do if you’d caught up to Cynthia and me under other circumstances?”

Lou’s face flushed. “I was going to try to make you see the error of your ways.”

“I see. And how were you planning to do that?”

She gave an exasperated sigh. “If you must know, I was going to tell you that you can’t marry Cynthia because …”

Trent drew in a sharp breath. “Because?”

“Because I love you.”

Taken aback, Trent felt his head swim with the news. “Lou …”

A gasp escaped her throat. “Don’t say it, Parson! I don’t expect you to feel the same way about the likes of me. Go on and marry Cynthia Connelly if you’ve a mind to, although after today, I doubt she’d have you.”

She nudged Summer into a trot, leaving Trent to stare after her. His mouth hung open, and he knew his world would never be the same again.