Kathleen E. Woodiwiss(230)

“There was a slight mishap,” Ruark explained tersely, watching Ralston narrowly. “And it seems ‘twas no accident, but intentional.”

“Probably the carelessness of one of your precious bondsmen.” Ralston gestured with the quirt. “Am I to believe it had something to do with your condition?”

“Aye, ye might say that,” the foreman piped in. “Mister Ruark was below when the logs let go. He saved ‘imself with a dip in the pond.”

“How touching,” Ralston smirked and regarded Ruark with a jeer. “You are always in the midst of some foolery, aren’t you?” He caressed the end of his quirt and seemed to grow museful. “Yet you turn everything to your betterment. Perhaps you, more than the others, are in need of some discipline.”

Ruark stared at him coldly. He did not intend to let the man use that bloody little whip on him. Milly might have cringed and whimpered beneath her merciless beating, but if Ralston had been her assailant then he faced a man now and not some helpless girl.

A clatter of hooves on the road drew the attention of all. Attila came thundering around the bend with Shanna on his back. Seeing the group that had gathered, she hauled the beast to a skidding stop while the more fearful workmen scattered from her path.

“Mister Ruark!” Her eyes went down his sodden attire as she leaned forward to stroke the gray’s neck. “Have you taken to swimming in your garments?”

“ ‘Twas an accident, mum, and he were caught in the middle of it, he were,” one of the men volunteered.

“An accident!” Shanna gasped. She disengaged her knee from the saddle horn and found Ruark’s hands about her waist, lifting her down. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

The questions came out in a rush, and her worried frown told Ruark she was in no mood for humor. He was about to reassure her when he was roughly shouldered aside by Ralston.

“Keep your distance, fool,” the agent raged, waving his whip dangerously close to Ruark. “I shall remind you but once, Mister Ruark, that a bondsman is not permitted to touch a lady of circumstance.”

Ralston paused for some reaction from the man he berated, but finding a hard, penetrating stare his answer, he whirled to Shanna.

“Madam, it is not wise to trust these rogues overmuch and most rash to be so familiar with them. They are the scum of civilization and hardly worth your concern.”

Shanna was rigid with rage, and her eyes snapped green sparks. “Mister Ralston!” Her voice could have sliced the heart of the staunchest oak. “You abuse the title of man and disregard that of a gentleman! You have thrice stood in my way and sought to chide me for my manners!”

Ralston’s face flushed dark crimson at this public chastening, but Shanna gave him no pause. Stepping forward and tapping his chest lightly with the tip of her own quirt, she snapped, “Never, never confront me again! There is much I will have out with you someday, but for the moment get yourself from my sight.”

Ralston sputtered, but could only obey. In livid fury he stalked to his buggy but before mounting he glared about. “You men!” he roared. “Get back to work! You have dallied enough. I will see the next laggard flayed where he stands!”

The road was emptied as Ralston got to his seat and whipped his horse into a full run. Ruark watched him go and then gestured for the driver of the wagon to pull on so others could pass.

“Are you hurt?” Shanna asked quietly, her eyes searching him for some sign of injury.

Ruark tossed her a grin. “Nay, love.”

“But what happened?”

Ruark shrugged and casually told her of the occurrence, and the evidence of tampering. He related the near disaster at the distillery as well. “It would seem, my love, someone is not pleased with my presence.”

Shanna’s hand trembled as she placed it on his arm. “Ruark,”—her voice was ragged and tight—“you don’t think I—”

She couldn’t finish, but Ruark saw her tears as he looked at her in surprise. He smiled gently and shook his head.

“Nay, love. It never entered my mind. I trust you as I would my own mother. Do not fear that.”

For a moment Shanna was unable to speak as she struggled to control her shaking, but then she managed. “But what reason would anyone have to harm you?”

Ruark laughed. “Several of the pirates might have cause, but I would doubt their courage to venture here.” He tried to ease her worry. “I shall be more wary henceforth.”

A workman scrambled up the slope to them, holding a ragged, dripping twist of straw in his hand.

“Yer hat, Mister Ruark.” He gave over the mangled mess ruefully. “ ‘Twould o’ been the same fer ya, had ya not been so quick o‘ wit.”