“Of course. What else?”
She frowned. “Why do I have the feeling that’s not the truth?”
When he didn’t answer, she asked, “Why do half the people in this town treat you cordially, while the other half go out of their way to avoid you?”
“You’re imagining things, Sharisse.”
“No, I’m not,” she insisted. His expression told her he wasn’t pleased by her observation, but she had to know. “Why do they fear you, Lucas? Is there a reason?”
“It’s not me they fear, damn it. You know that.”
“It’s Slade? And it bothers people that you look alike?”
He didn’t even bother to reply. “What I’d like to know is why you’ve got Slade on your mind so much.”
“But I don’t have him on my mind.”
“Don’t you? I think my brother made too much of an impression on you.”
“If he impressed me with anything, it was that he was an arrogant, cold, heartless—”
“That’s a very strong impression.”
“Oh, nonsense!” she said in exasperation. “I told you I don’t like him. I hope never to see him again. But I can hardly help thinking about him at times when you’re acting just like him.”
He stared hard at her. What was he thinking? Did he suspect how close she had come to succumbing to Slade’s kind of persuasion?
“Iamjust like him in some ways, Sharisse,” Lucas told her finally. “Maybe it’s just as well you understand that.”
Now what the devil did that mean?
Twenty-seven
Sharisse set down the lunch she had packed for Lucas on the tack chest in the barn. He had told her curtly that morning that he and Billy would be riding up into the hills today to check on the foals. He hadn’t asked her to make him lunch, but she hoped he’d appreciate it.
If she had thought, three weeks ago, that she would end up trying to please this man, she’d have laughed at the absurdity of it. She had intended to be disagreeable, to make him dissatisfied with her so he would send her back to New York. Well, he had certainly been dissatisfied ever since that run-in with Leon Waggoner and their argument about Slade. He had barely spoken to her for five days, and he had not touched her once.
It was just as well. Any day now she would be getting a letter from Stephanie and the money to get home. So why was she even bothering with Lucas?
What an impossible situation! Her feelings were so contradictory. She wasn’t sure what she wanted anymore. To physically desire a man she wouldn’t consider marrying was terrible. What was wrong with her? She had to stop it, ignore the feelings he aroused in her. She had to get a grip on herself.
Lucas wasn’t in the barn, but Mack was. He was saddling his horse, and she frowned.
“You’re not going up into the hills with Lucas and Billy, are you, Mack?”
He glanced at her. “No, ma’am. I’m headin’ into town for a couple things Luke forgot to pick up last week.”
“You mean Willow and I will be here alone?”
He understood. “No need to fret, gal. Luke’ll be within shootin’ distance if you need him. Anyone comes around here you don’t recognize, you just fire that rifle he keeps over the fireplace and he’ll hear you.”
“Oh. Well, I didn’t realize he kept the foals that close to here.”
“Any farther, and they might end up disappearin’.” Mack chuckled. “Indians, you know,” he added.
Sharisse ignored that. “I guess there is nothing to worry about, then. But you won’t be gone long, will you?”
“Nope. My days of stayin’ over in town for certain unmentionable reasons is long past. I got all I need right here in my own whiskey stash.”
