“Are you sure? We tend to go all out, with a big tree in the foyer, garland and candles throughout the inn and such. But we don’t have to if it conflicts with your decorations for the wedding,” he said.
Deirdre sat up so straight and fast that Ciaren came to an abrupt halt. “The wedding? At the inn?”
He reined his horse to a stop a few steps later. Squeezing Ciaren’s sides, Deirdre rode up until she stood beside the stallion.
“You weren’t aware Rick and Cat asked to hold it there? I apologize. I believe Cat may have meant to tell you yesterday but didn’t get the chance.” While he didn’t sound at all condescending, he didn’t need to. It was her own fault Cat hadn’t had the chance to tell her. “You are of course welcome to decorate any way you want for both the engagement party and the wedding. I and my staff will be at your disposal for anything you need,” he finished. The slightly husky tone of his voice as he said the last almost made her hopeful he’d bend his proper notions about intimacy. Before they could go down that road, however, she had to tell him everything. That required a level of trust she wasn’t sure she felt yet.
She forced her mind back to the task at hand. The more she thought about it, the more perfect she realized it would be. The inn was beautiful, with a huge foyer and large, Y-shaped staircase. And if Kinan’s staff could help decorate, she could focus more on building their homes.
“Thank you, I do believe that will work out perfectly.”
They began riding again. With only a dusting of snow, the landscape wasn’t exactly pristine. Bits of green, tan, or brown earth shown through here and there, but the imperfections made it all the more beautiful to Deirdre. It gave her an idea. “I’ll speak with Cat, but I think a holiday-themed wedding would be splendid. If she agrees, I would love to coordinate decorations with you, and help pick out the tree, if that isn’t too much of an intrusion.”
The large, joyful smile Kinan gave her sent a rush of heat through her, so powerful that it felt as if she stood before a furnace. “It would not be an intrusion at all, it would be a pleasure. And if there’s anything else I can do, you have only to let me know,” he said.
Knowing the likelihood of him accepting her after all she had to tell him was slim, she didn’t want to encourage him too much. Yet part of her couldn’t help it, and not because of her flirtatious nature, but something deeper. She cleared her throat and did her best to sound businesslike. “There is, actually, but I don’t want you to feel obligated in any way. If you can’t do it, or don’t want to, I won’t think any less of you.” She looked to the horizon, not wanting to beguile him with a look. Ciaren’s pace picked up a touch as they crested a hill and the inn came into sight.
“I’m intrigued. Do tell,” Kinan prompted.
She decided to come completely clean with him, where her plan was concerned, at least. While she may not trust him with her deepest, darkest secret yet, she knew she could trust him with her plans.
“I plan to use both the engagement party and the wedding as covers. I want Ainsworth to believe we are so engrossed in planning the events that we’re waiting until spring to build our homes.” She let out a laugh. “Shouldn’t be hard to convince him. Most men believe women are obsessed with parties.”
Kinan’s shoulder dropped, and he looked down at her. “In our defense, most women are obsessed by parties.”
Deirdre flung her hair over her shoulder, taking on an imperious air. “Perhaps, but only because most men block them from pursuits of business and the like.”
His smile took her by surprise. “Touché,” he said, in what was possibly the worst French accent she had ever heard.
She laughed. “First astronomy, and now he speaks French. Next I’ll be discovering that you’re a world traveler.”
The serious look Kinan gave her said she wasn’t far off base, which piqued her curiosity.
“Sadly, that is close to the extent of my French. As for being worldly, actually—”
A feminine voice calling from some distance away halted his words. Deirdre was about to prompt him to go on when she saw shapes in the distance. Three riders approached from the direction of the inn. The big white-, black-, and red-painted horse was unmistakable.
“Deirdre!” came Cat’s faint voice once again.
The horses started running toward them. It took almost no urging at all to launch Ciaren into a canter. Slowing her down once she reached the painted gelding was another matter. When Kinan reined his white stallion in beside her a few moments later, the mare settled and eventually stood still enough for Deirdre to dismount. A moment later, Cat leaped down and embraced Deirdre. Wild red curls tickled Deirdre’s cheeks. All that brilliant red hair hung loose in a full mane about Cat’s entire upper body. The fact that she had left it unfettered spoke of how desperate she had been to get out of the house this morning. Beautiful though it was, in Deirdre’s opinion, Cat never left her hair completely down. Guilt gnawed at her over having worried her friend so much that she had abandoned her routine.
“I am so sorry to have worried you, Cat.”
Cat drew back and grabbed her by the shoulders. “What were you thinking, running off like that, Deirdre Quinn? I could shake you. I shall shake you!” She gave Deirdre’s shoulders a few good shakes—which Deirdre endured with a smile.
“I deserved that. I wasn’t thinking at all.”
Cat drew back, but didn’t let go. “Clearly not! Sadie told me about the man that attacked you on the way here, the one your escorts turned over to the sheriff. Deirdre, we need to talk.”
All anger drained out of her, replaced by a hushed fear Deirdre found much worse. She wanted the anger back; it made Cat stronger. She couldn’t blame her, though. The actions had been beyond reckless. But what they had to do with the man who had attacked her back when they first arrived in California, she had no idea. He was in the sheriff’s custody and posed no further threat. Ainsworth, of course, was another story.
The clip-clop of trotting hooves announced the arrival of the other two riders; Rick on a buckskin, and Sadie on a brown mare. The somber look on Sadie’s face struck dread deep into Deirdre. “Whatever could have you both so rattled? I’m quite all right, thanks to Kinan.”
Sadie sagged in the saddle, shoulders rolling until it looked as though she drew in on herself. “It isn’t that, though you certainly gave us quite a fright.” She looked to Cat.
After a breath so deep it shook her chest, Cat said, “Cofield, the man who attacked you on the trail to California, is the same one who tried to kill Rick and I.”
* * * *
Gathered around the great-room fireplace at the O’Leary Inn with a hot cup of tea in her hands, Deirdre listened as Cat and Rick took turns recapping their tales of Cofield. Throughout it, Deirdre and Sadie exchanged knowing looks. Cat remained fearless as she told the story; her head held high, anger darkening her tone. To see her once-damaged friend so strong in the face of such adversity heartened Deirdre.
Tea tray in hand, biscuits and cookies in the other, Kinan entered the lavishly furnished room. Setting the plates on the low table the group had gathered around, he turned to leave. Deirdre touched his arm. He stopped, head tilting her direction, but not being so bold as to look directly at her.
“Please stay,” she said softly.
He dipped his head in answer and took one of the empty chairs facing the glowing fireplace. An idea was forming, and she wanted him to be a part of it. He had offered to help her maintain the illusion of distraction, after all. Or, at least, that was the reason she convinced herself that she desired his presence. It wasn’t because of the concern written in the lines of his tense body, or the way the firelight danced across his tanned skin and the highlights of his black hair. No, it had nothing to do with that. Absolutely nothing.
A deep intake of breath brought her attention back to Cat, who sat on the small couch between Sadie
and Rick. “Well, he won’t be of concern much longer. Rick checked with the sheriff, and Cofield is being moved to stand trial in a city to the south.”
Kinan scratched at his stubbly chin. “That could be for the best. Our judge is paid off by Ainsworth.”
Cat nodded. “We figured as much. As is the sheriff, Rick says. Which leads me to wonder, why is Ainsworth allowing his man to be transferred out where he will likely give testimony that could incriminate Ainsworth to save his own neck? All Ainsworth has to do is say the word and the sheriff won’t transfer him.”
Kinan’s long lashes shot wide open. “Because the man could do the same here. This gives Ainsworth a chance to have him killed in transit and eliminate the risk.”
Cat looked at Rick, then back to Kinan. “We fear as much as well.”
Sadie crossed herself. “Saints alive, what a monster!”
Nodding, Cat patted Sadie’s arm, though by the look of worry knotting her brow, the gesture may have been just as much for her own comfort. Deirdre sipped her tea, wishing it were wine, as she let her mind work over things. Cat went on about the morality of allowing such a thing to happen to a man who would have killed them all given the chance, but she scarcely heard. It wasn’t whether the man lived or died that concerned her—he had made his bed—but rather, if there was a way they could use him. He was an opportunist, a survivor.
The room went quiet sometime during her contemplating. Cat and Sadie stared at her. “I don’t like that look,” Cat said in a voice tinged with alarm.
Sadie drummed her delicate fingers against her teacup. “Indeed not. That look means trouble.”
One corner of Kinan’s lips pulled up in a crooked grin. “I like that look,” he said. The bold words sent a flush through Deirdre.
“You daft fool, you’ll learn soon enough,” Sadie warned.
Deirdre set her cup down and leaned over the table. “What if we could reach Cofield’s transport wagon before Ainsworth’s men?”
Cat sat back as if wanting to distance herself from the very suggestion. “And do what with him?”
“Free him, o’ course,” Deirdre said.
Sadie leaned forward and whispered to Kinan. “You see, you just have to wait for the crazy bits. There it is.”
The widening smile on Kinan’s lips made her think maybe he didn’t mind the idea of her being a little crazy. No, that had to be merely wishful thinking on her part.
“I know you haven’t gone soft on us, so why on earth would you want to do that?” Cat asked.
From the way Kinan rubbed his hands together, Deirdre knew he had figured it out. More thrills shot through her over the fact that he was excited. “To use him,” he said.
Sadie threw a hand in the air. “You’ve completely lost your ever-loving mind, woman! The man’s a killer, dangerous, in case you missed Cat and Rick’s story, and forgot about how he attacked you.”
Deirdre gave her a steady look. “From what Cat and Rick have told us, the man is no professional. He simply did what Ainsworth commanded because he was afraid not to. To save his own skin, I believe he’ll cooperate with us.”
Head tilting to the side, Cat eyed her with curiosity. “What exactly is it you’d have him do for us?”
“Since he worked for Ainsworth, he’ll know the layout of the man’s land, which means he’ll know how we can sneak through and avoid the road Ainsworth won’t let us cross.”
Sadie held up a hand. “Now, wait. Why would we need to get through Ainsworth’s land?”
Schooling her expression so she didn’t look overeager, Deirdre said, “To bring home the timber we’re going to purchase from the northeast.”
“Why would we purchase lumber to the northeast?” Sadie asked.
A slow smile worked its way onto Cat’s face. “Because, ’tis the one place his influence doesn’t reach that has what we need. Mostly that’s because he knows there’s no way to it that doesn’t go through his land.” She looked at Deirdre. “But guide or no, what makes you think he won’t catch us bringing lumber through his land?”
Deirdre’s own smile tried to break through, but she held it back. “Because he’ll be distracted.”
“By what, pray tell?” Sadie asked.
Deirdre looked to Kinan, who watched her with a mixture of curiosity and interest that she found quite stimulating.
“By Sadie, Kinan, and I bringing in a wagon of party supplies big enough to make him suspect we’re hiding timber in it.”
Kinan’s grin grew. “That’s brilliant!”
Whether the flush of emotion came from his words or smile, Deirdre couldn’t be sure, but she knew it would be trouble either way.
Sadie and Cat erupted into conversation, one arguing for it, the other against. After a prolonged discussion that lasted through another cup of tea, they agreed to try it. Deirdre leaned over and patted Sadie’s hands. “Don’t look so glum, we get to go shopping!”
Eyes softening, Sadie gave a small shrug. “At least there’s that.”
Grinning all the wider, Deirdre’s gaze danced between Cat and Kinan as she said, “Now, we just have to figure out how to hijack a prisoner wagon.”
Chapter 11
“I still say this is the worst idea I have ever heard.”
Dylan tried to grab the pistol off the tack box before Deirdre could reach it. He remained a foot away by the time it was in her hand. If she weren’t so irritated at him, she might have thrilled at being alone in a tack room with him.
“I don’t recall asking your opinion,” she said.
Putting one booted foot up on the tack box, she started to hike up her skirts. Dylan’s gaze didn’t shift away until she started to strap on the small thigh holster Rick had given her. Normally she would have enjoyed the attention, but…
“A lady shouldn’t put herself in this kind of danger,” Dylan protested.
She jammed the small pistol into the holster, put her foot down, and smoothed her skirts slowly and carefully.
“Do you even know how to use that?” he demanded.
Near to boiling over, she had to take a deep breath and let it out slowly. While doing so, she did her best to glare a hole clean through him. “Of course I do. I spent months traveling across the wilds of America. I can handle myself,” she said. Of all people, she had thought Dylan would be all right with this. That he wasn’t, disappointed her to no end.
Dylan held his hands up. “I wasn’t saying you couldn’t. I’m just saying this might be something best left to us lads.”
A sound that was half-grunt, half-scream tore from Deirdre’s throat. Grabbing Ciaren’s pad and saddle, she shoved past Dylan and marched out of the tack room. “That is not the plan,” she snapped.
Feet pounded after her. “Then maybe we can change the plan. Surely Rick doesn’t want you in danger—”
“Rick trusts that I can take care of myself. In fact, he didn’t so much as raise a brow when Cat decided to go along,” she interrupted, stopping herself before she could make a comment about Cat’s condition.
“Aye, well, ’tis just…”
She ignored his bumbling and proceeded to saddle Ciaren. Just outside the open doors of the barn, she heard the creak of the carriage as Cat and Sadie situated themselves inside.
“At least ride in the carriage where it will be safer,” he said.
She decided she liked it better when he couldn’t get out a full sentence. Well-placed pressure on Ciaren’s side made the mare step into him, forcing him out of the stall. When Deirdre moved to lead her out, Dylan blocked the way.
Her eyes narrowed. “You mean where I’ll be trapped if things do not go according to plan.”
He braced a hand on either side of the stall door. “Where you will have cover if bullets start to fly,” he said in a hard tone. Dropping his arms, he took a step closer to her.
With less than two feet between them, she could smell the soap he’d used on his freshly shaved face. This close, his eyes were so blue they made her think of the sky—vast, and endless enough to lose oneself in. Sadly, it wasn’t a place she wanted to get lost. She took a step back just as he reached for her. He was faster, and didn’t seem to notice she was trying to move away.
Suddenly, she was in his arms, pressed to his chest, her heart beating so hard she knew he felt it. But the look of passion darkening his eyes made it clear he misunderstood her thundering heart. In the strength of his arms she felt a possessive urgency, but his lips pressed soft enough against hers to melt into. But she didn’t want to melt into them. Those supple lips started to part.
Hands on his chest, she shoved at the same time Ciaren bumped her hard in the back, pushing both of them out of the stall. They came apart when Dylan stumbled over the lip of the stall floor. He caught himself by grabbing a beam and swinging around it in a show of dexterity that would have been quite stimulating did her interest not lie in another.
“I can take care of myself, Dylan O’Toole, and I’ll thank you not to overstep propriety again,” she snapped.
Eyes soft with concern beseeched her. “Me apologies. I thought you desired me as much as I do you. I meant no disrespect, either with the kiss, or by what I said. I’m worried about you, is all,” he said in a low whisper that felt scandalously intimate—almost as intimate as their kiss.
His hand covered hers where it rested on the stall door. She yanked her hand out from under his, not caring about the rough wood that scraped at her palm. A shadow fell across the barn-door opening right before rapid steps approached. When Dylan looked in that direction, Deirdre took the opportunity to step away from him.
“Is everything all right, Deirdre?” came Kinan’s voice. It may have been wrong of her to enjoy the edge of jealousy that sharpened his tone, but enjoy it she did.
She pushed past Dylan, trusting he would move out of the way of her horse, but not caring if he got stepped on if he didn’t. Marching out into the aisle with Ciaren in tow, she smiled at Kinan. “I am now, thank you.” The moment the words left her lips she knew she shouldn’t have said them.
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