Sterling’s pulse began to tap harder. How had people learned he’d gone out to the cabin to help Violet and Hyacinth? When they realized he was back, would they also suspect that he’d brought the women home with him?
“I didn’t have to pretend too hard, though.” Thatcher paused again in his grinding. “I really don’t know much about the two women except that Claude St. Germaine claims they’re his dancehall girls.”
“They’re not his dancehall girls.” Sterling practically spat the words, disgusted by the mere thought, let alone the actual reality.
“Just telling you what’s being spread around town.”
Inwardly, Sterling cursed at whoever had started the rumors.
Beckett stood rigidly now, his hand on his revolver. “What do you want me to do, boss? Want me to take a couple of the fellows and ride into town and give Claude a lesson that he shouldn’t be claiming stuff that doesn’t belong to him?”
Sterling didn’t know a whole lot about Beckett’s past life before he’d come to Colorado. The foreman had been pretty tight-lipped about it, had only shared that he’d worked on a ranch somewhere in the South and had the experience necessary to be a foreman. It was at times like this that Sterling suspectedBeckett had a complicated—maybe even a rough—history, one that made him unafraid to go head-to-head with Claude’s men, no matter how vicious they might be.
Sterling would like nothing better than to ride with Beckett and confront Claude too. But he didn’t want Beckett or any of his other ranch hands to get in trouble. Because such a conflict would cause lots of trouble, and people would end up getting hurt.
Sterling shook his head. “Best to start off on the cautious side and handle this without violence first.”
“That’s not what Claude did when he messed up your house.”
Beckett was right. Claude’s men hadn’t needed to upend things the way they had in looking for Violet and Hyacinth. Most likely they’d done it to make a point to Sterling that he wasn’t safe as long as he was sheltering the women.
Even so, he wasn’t ready to get dirty with them. “We’re not going to lower ourselves to their standard and break the law.”
“I can send them a message without breaking the law.”
“I’m sure you can. But let’s wait—”
“Wait for Claude to send his men again? And this time get the women?”
“If they come back, we won’t hesitate to defend ourselves.”
“And chance the women getting hurt?”
Sterling’s muscles tightened at the prospect of that happening.
Beckett’s expression was stormy, and Sterling had no doubt his own was the same way. The danger to the women was imminent. Did he want to have a battle here on the ranch? Or would it be better to ride into town and let the conflict play out there?
“If I may interject here,” Thatcher said as he began to pour water into a glass beaker.
Sterling nodded, not sure what the veterinarian could offer in terms of viable advice in this volatile situation. But Sterling was open to any ideas that could keep the women safe.
Thatcher finished with the water, then lifted the beaker and poured it into the crushed vaccine. “Sounds like you still love her.”
“No.” Sterling growled the word. “Not anymore—”
“But you just kissed her?” Thatcher paused his work and cast a raised brow at Sterling.
Shoot. He didn’t want to admit she’d been the one to kiss him first. If that word got out, her reputation might become tarnished. He didn’t want men thinking she was easy or that he was taking advantage of her.
Thatcher picked up a stirring stick and began mixing the solution. “Why would you kiss her unless you still have feelings for her?”
Obviously Thatcher, though he was fairly new to Summit County, had heard about his failed wedding to Violet. What was the point in denying he had some feelings for Violet? He would only be lying to them and himself. “Fine. I do care about her—”
“Oh, really.” Beckett’s comment was laced with sarcasm.
“But I don’t love her.”
Thatcher poured his mixture into the filter and the funnel above the syringe. “Plenty of marriages have started on a lot less than you have with her.”
