“Yes, sir.” Ian hustled out of the house and down to the barn. He hitched up the horse to the wagon and noticed someone watching him from behind the bushes. He strode over to the house as if he hadn’t seen anyone.
“Sheriff, we have another problem. Someone’s watching the place.”
Sheriff Bower rubbed the back of his neck. “All right then. What I think is going on is someone is trying to rob Mr. McGrae of his livestock, and possibly more. In any event, I’ll send Mr. Sanders to the judge with the warrant I received and I’ll double back after we’ve gone down the road a bit.”
William placed a protective arm around his wife. “Do you think Mable is safe?”
“I believe she’s safer with you on the wagon than staying behind here,” Sheriff Bower said. “Mr. McGrae, what kinds of weapons do you have at your cottage?”
“A couple of knives, Mr. Sanders’s shotgun and me shepherd’s crook.”
“All right then, you head on to your cottage. Make certain all is in order. Bring your dogs up to the Sanderses’ house and let’s give this guy the impression you’re obeying the order. Mr. Sanders, stop by my office and tell my deputy to get some men out here as soon as possible before you go to the judge.”
“Yes, sir. Come, Mable. Be safe, Ian. They’re only livestock, not worth your life,” William admonished.
“Yes, sir.”
But of course, his livestock were his life and his future. Dear God, please bring wisdom to this situation.
Ian did as directed and went to the cottage as the others left for the city. He slipped a knife into his boot then moved on to gather the puppies. How was he supposed to carry six three-week-old puppies? He could do two, maybe three at a time, if the little ones didn’t squirm too much. Ian searched the cottage for a bin of some sort. Tara started prancing around. She didn’t care for people messing with her babies. She also was very astute and could tell something wasn’t right. Ian figured the best place for Conall was out keeping watch of the sheep.
“Oh, no, the ram!” Ian bolted toward the barn with Mr.
Sanders’s shotgun in hand. He ran into the barn where he found the ram standing still, munching on his oats. He glanced at the other pen that held the ewes. They, too, were safe. What was going on here?
A carriage pulled into the yard. “Ian?” Hope’s voice called out.
“Hope, what are ye doin’ here?”
Her shoulders squared, she narrowed her gaze. She didn’t like Ian’s tone. How could it change in a couple of hours?
Ian whistled for Tara. She jumped from the cottage and ran toward him. He signaled to her to check for predators in the area. Tara immediately put her nose to the ground and moved off in a search pattern. Ian closed the distance between him and Hope.
“It isn’t safe,” he said. “Someone has been in the woods behind the barn.”
“What?” Hope squealed.
Tara growled and yapped.
“Stay here,” Ian commanded, and then he took off running toward the commotion.
Chapter 13
Hope tightened her grasp on the reins. “What’s going on?” she called out, but Ian was already on the run with shotgun in hand. She scanned the area looking for anything out of place. Seeing nothing, she waited, feeling helpless, wishing she could offer Ian some assistance.
After a few minutes Ian and Tara returned. He motioned for Tara to return to the house. “What’s going on?” she asked again, concerned.
Ian came up beside her and leaned on the armrest of her buggy, catching his breath. “Sheriff Bower came to remove me from the property but after a few words with the Sanderses we were able to convince him that the order was wrong. He agreed to go to the judge and investigate the matter further with the Sanderses. Then I caught someone in the woods behind the house and…” Ian stopped and turned at the sound of approaching horse hooves. The sheriff had returned.
“I thought the plan was for you to move your dogs into the Sanderses’ home,” the sheriff said.
“I went to check on me ram and I had Tara investigate. There was evidence of someone in the bushes behind those palm fronds. But whoever it be ran off again when Tara charged after him.”
“Do you know what is going on, Sheriff?” Hope asked. “I’m afraid not.
I’ll have my deputies check on you a couple of times throughout the rest of the day. Perhaps we’ve scared the individual off for now.” The sheriff glanced back at Ian’s cottage. “Your dogs are good protection.”
“That they are, Sheriff.”
“Good. Good day, Miss Lang. May I suggest you not travel out here on your own for the next few days? More than likely someone is after Mr. McGrae’s sheep.” He paused with a glance back at the cottage. “And possibly your dogs. Word around town is the pups sell for a hefty sum.”
Hope’s back stiffened. Had Ian made himself a target for thieves? Had his way of advertising his dogs attracted the interest of criminals in St. Augustine? But the pups wouldn’t be worth the money Ian hoped to earn if he didn’t have the time to train them. Plus they were still too young to leave their mother. “Good day, Sheriff.”
Hope turned back to Ian as he watched the sheriff ride down the road. “Looks like you’re in a real mess.”
Ian turned to her and smiled a weary smile. “No more than usual since I moved to America. So, what brought ye out here, Hope?”
“You,” she said after a pause. “We need to talk and I didn’t want to wait any longer.”
“Are ye up for a walk? I want to go to the back pasture and check on Conall and the sheep, especially with someone lurking about.”
“Sure. I’m so sorry that all of this is happening to you. It’s frightening.” Perhaps she should have waited for their walk but she’d wanted to get this business with Hamilton Scott out of the way before they enjoyed each other’s company.
“It’s nothing the dogs and I can’t handle,” Ian assured her as he led her toward the back pasture. “Is there something ye needed to discuss with me before we stroll along the shore?” he said, his blue eyes shining.
Hope nodded, but she couldn’t seem to make the words come out.
Ian took a few more steps. “I know something bad happened before I arrived and ye were hurt badly by it.”
Hope nodded and swallowed. She had come out here to tell him all about Hamilton Scott, but she wasn’t ready after all. He would need to gain her trust. “Yes, I was hurt badly but I wanted to let you know it was not of a romantic nature. I’ll tell you the rest at another time, when I am not breaking all the rules of etiquette by being here on my own. I was counting on the Sanderses being here.”
“I’m sorry ye are breaking etiquette but I’m glad ye are here. As for the other matter, I shall not pry. I will wait on ye.”
Just then, Ian picked up his pace. “Look over there.” He pointed toward the fence about half a mile ahead. Hope saw a bobcat lurking in the tall grass.
“Ian, don’t!” she yelled but it was too late. He was already charging after it.
* * *
Ian chased after the animal. He heard Hope holler at him but he was bound and determined to keep the beast away from his flock. He reached down and picked up a hunk of jagged coral as he got closer. The bobcat watched him, coiled and hunched down in the tall grasses. Ian signaled for Conall to move the sheep away from the fence.
Conall went straight to work. The bobcat poked his head up then slunk down. He eyed Ian, poised to spring as Hope caught up to him. “Ian, don’t. The best thing is to simply back away.” Ian halted.
“I can’t do that, Hope. He’s after me flock.” He fingered the rock in his hand. He wasn’t close enough to get a good throw in.
“Ian, please. If you leave them alone they will retreat. If you attack they will attack you.” She grabbed his arm. “Trust me, I know these animals.”
He glanced at Hope. He saw worry and compassion in her green eyes. “Aye, I’ll take yer advice.”
“Good, now slowly walk ba
ckward.”
Ian signaled to Conall, and together they walked backward.
“You’re going to need to start carrying a weapon with you until you teach them this is your property and your livestock.”
“Will they learn?”
“After they get shot at a few times, yes, they should move on to easier prey.”
“I could top the fencing with additional barbed wire so the predators cannot jump over it.”
“That would probably be wise.”
As they herded the sheep back toward the house, Ian asked, “Tell me about yer new business. Why are ye doing it?”
“I felt it was time to use some of the gifts the Lord has given me.” She glanced off into the distance then brought her focus back to him. “I like to sew, and I can design practical clothing for women who work.”
“Women don’t work…” Ian saw the fire in her eyes. He held up his hands. “I didn’t mean it that way.” He waited until he could see her temper drop down a few notches. “What I meant to say was most women work in the home. What would a new dress design do for them?”
Hope smiled. “You are so typical of most men. You believe women shouldn’t work outside the home, and some don’t even consider the chores a woman does around the house as work. But I won’t pull that loose thread. What men fail to see is that women are working all around them. For example, Grace Arman works in the inn…”
“Yes, but…” Ian stopped, about to say that she did the women’s work.
Hope went on. “What about Mrs. Leonardy, the butcher’s wife? She handles orders, cuts meat and does just about everything her husband does in the butcher shop, plus does the housework and raising of the children.”
Ian nodded. She did raise a good point.
“And what about Sandra Allen at the mercantile? She takes orders, unpacks them, loads the shelves and reorders stock. Would you say she doesn’t work?”
He raised his hands in surrender.
“That’s my point. Women work all over this town. And for workingwomen like Sandra and Grace, a sharp-looking dress without as many layers of fabric is practical. I won’t be setting a fashion trend, and most of my work will be consignments, designing a dress to the customer’s wishes, but…”
“I understand, and ye are a hard worker. I’ve seen that on many occasions. What shocked me most was seeing ye doing the chambermaid work for the inn.”
He could see his cottage now. The sheep were out of danger and walking at an even pace. He signaled Conall to lead them toward the pens.
“It’s not my favorite type of work but Grace is a good friend and she needed the help.”
“Aye, I understand. Ye are generous. It just struck me odd that a gal with yer social standing would do it at all.”
“So maybe ye had it wrong about me not being fit to be a shepherd’s wife?” she teased.
Ian roared with laughter. “Ye do have a way of making yer point.”
Hope curtsied. “Thank you.”
“So when are we having ourselves that stroll, Hope?” Hope smiled.
“I have to admit I am afraid.”
He reached out and took her hand. “I am, too. However, our God doesn’t make mistakes and if we’re to proceed He’ll be with us.” They walked hand in hand back to his cottage.
“I need to go. May I return on Monday after I’m finished with my work? I’d like to give you a hand around the ranch and talk more.”
“I’d like that.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “I should probably escort ye home, keep ye safe.”
“I’ll be fine. I know how to use the whip.”
Ian nodded. “Until Monday.” He wanted to add me love, but this was not the time. They had a lot of work ahead of them. He would need to be patient until she opened up and told him what had happened in the past. He sensed she wanted to but still needed to trust him. And he couldn’t blame her, considering some of the rude conversations they’d had before. “Goodbye, Hope.”
She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Goodbye, Ian.”
His heart raced as he watched her walk away.
Is ixt possible, Lord? Is she meant for me?
* * *
For the past three days Hope had been coming out to spend a couple of hours each day with Ian on the ranch. They worked outside where anyone could see them and each time she came, they notified the Sanderses. Each day she learned a little bit more about raising sheep while he in turn was spending time learning about her future business. She’d decided to start small but did accept a gift from her father, which was paying her rent for the first six months. Soon she wouldn’t have free time to spend with Ian.
She grabbed the sketches she’d worked on last night out of her buggy and brought them to the door of Ian’s cottage. “Ian?” she called as she approached.
Ian came out with a trail of puppies following him. Hope giggled. “You look like the pied piper of puppies.”
“I shall blow me magic pipe and they shall follow me anywhere,” he said with a wink.
“I brought the sketches I was working on last night. I took into consideration some of your thoughts on the wool and, well…” She laid the sketches on the porch table. “Tell me what you think.”
Ian leaned over and examined each drawing with interest. “I like them all but I like this one the best.”
Joy filled Hope to overflowing. “Thank you, it’s my favorite, as well. I designed this one for Sandra Allen. It’s feminine but will give her the freedom to climb ladders, fill the shelves from the storage room and still look pretty.”
“Very practical.”
Hope reached into her purse and pulled out a rolled paper held together with a pink ribbon. “This one is for the New York governor’s wife, who will be here for another month. This dress has all the bells and whistles that the French and English designers are still encouraging this year. Plus I took a layer out to cool it down for the Southern heat. The jacket can come off and reveal a lighter dress below. See?” She pointed to another pose of the same outfit without the jacket.
“It still has the bustle.”
“No respectable socialite would be caught not wearing one, no matter how impractical they think they are. Unfortunately the governor’s wife is one of those people. You have to make what the customers want, not what you think would look best on them.”
“Don’t ye think ye have the power to persuade them?”
“Tried. Had to back down or I wouldn’t have the sale.”
“Aye, I understand that. Luckily that kind of customer doesn’t affect me.” Ian gathered the drawings and handed them back to her.
“Mother said to invite you over this evening if you can leave.” Hope loved how close she and Ian were becoming. She cherished that he would take the time to go over dress designs with her, that he actually took an interest in it because it was something she enjoyed.
“I believe I can. Let me freshen up and I’ll escort ye back to yer house.”
“I’ll wait for you in the carriage.” She’d given up on walking back and forth. Her time was too precious. And while she was only saving twenty minutes, when you added in the time to hook up the horse to the buggy and then disconnect them afterward, it was still twenty minutes. Soon she wouldn’t even have these few minutes with Ian. The storefront would be open for her to move into on Saturday, two days from now.
Mable Sanders walked over toward the buggy. “Hello, Hope. It is good to see you.”
“And good to see you, as well, Mrs. Sanders. How have you been?”
“I’ve been better.”
“What seems to be the problem?”
“Whoever is disputing the sale to Ian has now put a claim on our house.”
“What has the sheriff said?”
“He doesn’t know what to make of it. He spent the better part of a day at the registrar’s office trying to figure out who might be making the claim. But he found it in the records as clear as day that the property belonged to S. H. Wils
on.”
“But you purchased the property forty years ago and still have the purchase and sale from the original owner.”
“That’s the thing. The sheriff found the records of our original purchase, as well.”
“Well if this S. H. Wilson has owned the land for the past forty years, where has he been all this time and why hasn’t he been paying the taxes?”
“All good questions, my dear. Not to mention, the sheriff hasn’t found the man who was lurking in the bushes the other day.”
Hope decided she would go to the registrar’s office again tomorrow and do some of her own searching. She’d go back further, to when the Ingermansons owned the property, and follow those records back.
“Good afternoon, Mable,” Ian said as he walked toward them. “How are you doing?”
“Fair. Hope can fill you in. I best get back to my laundry before the rains come.”
“God bless ye, Mable.” Ian climbed up into the buggy and took the reins. “What happened?”
“This land mess.” Hope went on to explain everything Mrs. Sanders had told to her. “I’m going to the registrar’s office tomorrow to do a bit more research. There’s something familiar about this S. H. Wilson but I can’t put my finger on it.”
“I’ll join ye. When will ye be going there?”
“How’s two thirty?”
“I’ll be there.” The buggy bounced as one of the wheels hit a deep rut. Hope banged into Ian. Ian steadied the buggy and wrapped his arm around her. “Are ye all right?”
Hope gazed into his crystal-blue eyes. She was drawn to him like no other. She glanced down to his lips. Ian leaned in to kiss her. Hope closed her eyes in anticipation.
“Not now, me love. Soon, when we are in private. Others are watching.”
Chapter 14
Ian fought down every straining desire to kiss Hope. He couldn’t take advantage of her when so many were aware of them. If it were simply his honor, he’d kiss her. But Hope’s honor was far more precious to him.
Hope opened her dazzling green eyes.
“I love yer eyes.” He wanted to move forward in their relationship but was concerned as to whether or not he should. “They remind me of Ireland.”
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