John insisted on hearing every detail, and Millie was happy to oblige. Travis listened as he dragged Smiley out of the kitchen and shoved him into the grass next to his friend. His attention kept returning to Emily, and after he'd finished his chore, he leaned against the doorframe and blatantly stared at her.
She had been shivering a few minutes before, but under his close scrutiny, she was feeling uncomfortably warm in no time at all. She was also having difficulty drawing a deep breath.
John drew her attention when he pulled out a chair and sat down next to his wife. Emily watched him put his hand on top of Millie's, and it was that simple, little gesture of affection that proved to be her own undoing. She was suddenly so consumed with such hot, painful longings for Travis, she wanted to weep. She couldn't understand what was happening to her. She had never had lustful, carnal thoughts before, but she was certainly having them now, and how was that possible? Why was she yearning for something she had never experienced?
Emily made the mistake of looking at the man who was responsible for her misery. The sight of him only intensified her erotic thoughts, and she hurried to look away.
She wasn't quick enough though. Wanting him was bad enough. What made it worse was that she was certain he knew it. The dark look in his eyes told her so.
She jumped to her feet, nearly overturning her chair in her haste. She needed to get busy, she told herself, to take her mind off her outrageous daydreams. She decided to clean up the mess around her, but Millie paused in her story to insist that Emily sit back down.
She was simply too agitated to sit anywhere, and so she stood by the entrance to the dining room instead. She was deliberately trying to put as much distance between herself and Travis as possible. She didn't dare look at him again, so she pretended grave interest in Millie's every word.
And, Lord, it was hot in the kitchen.
"John, what took you and Travis so long to get in here?" Millie asked.
"We had our hands full; that's what took us so long," he replied. "Corrigan told me five men were heading this way, but he was wrong about the number. There were eight of them out front trying to get inside, and all but two were stinking drunk. We didn't know a couple of others were sneaking up on the back door. I sure did itch to shoot them, Millie."
"What held you back?" she asked.
"Four of them decided to take Travis on, and all at the same time. They came at him from every direction, putting him right in the thick of it."
Emily's eyes widened, and she couldn't stop herself from looking at Travis. "You were in the thick of it? You don't have a mark on you."
"His fists have got to be tender," John interjected.
"I had to keep my shotgun trained on the other hooligans so they wouldn't try any nonsense on me. It was a real fracas, I'm telling you, and One-Eyed Jack was the only one enjoying himself. He looked like he was having a mighty fine time. As pretty as you please, he sat himself down on my front stoop, until he remembered seeing two of the men going around back. We would have gotten here sooner if Jack hadn't been so preoccupied."
Emily enjoyed the way John painted a story. She could picture Jack slapping his knee in amusement while he watched the fight, and she almost burst into laughter then. The contrary mountain man was unlike any other man she'd ever met.
"I'm glad he finally remembered," she said.
"Didn't you hear me shout for you, John?"
"Now, Millie, with all the commotion going on out front, how could I hear you?"
"If you hadn't come inside when you did, I don't know what would have happened," Emily admitted.
"You were holding your own," he told her.
"Millie, I'm so sorry I scared you."
"You didn't scare me. You sure did surprise me though. I forgot all about the frying pan until you whacked it upside his head."
"We'd better put her in the corner room, don't you suppose, Travis?" John asked. "No one can get to her through the window, and I imagine you'll hear anyone coming down the hall. I don't suppose those two sleeping it off in my backyard will sober up enough to come after Emily, but we shouldn't be taking any chances."
"Are you going to let Murphy's men sleep inside tonight?" Emily asked.
"Just the two who aren't drunk," John explained. "I'll put them at the opposite end of the house, so you don't need to worry. Travis will be in the room next to you."
John's last remark wasn't at all comforting. Having Travis so close seemed as dangerous to her as having Smiley in the next room. Travis wouldn't hurt her, of course, and he wouldn't force himself on her either, but then he wouldn't have to, would he? The mere thought of being alone with him did crazy things to her heart, and she could hear the warning bells ringing loud and clear in the back of her head.
Travis moved away from the door. "I'll show her where her room is," he remarked, completely ignoring Emily shaking her head at him.
He caught hold of her hand and continued on into the dining room. She tried to pull away from his grasp, but he tightened his hold to let her know he wasn't letting go.
Jack hovered near the front door, waiting for Emily. "I'm wanting to leave now," he announced.
Emily smiled at him. "Thank you again for going along with my game, Jack."
"I'm wanting to shake your hand before I leave," he muttered. "Unlatch her for a minute, Clayborne. I'm not going to steal her."
Travis let him have his way. He watched the two of them shake hands and couldn't help but notice the surprised look on Emily's face.
Jack leaned close to her, whispered something into her ear, and then pulled away. "I might be running into you again real soon," he predicted. He shoved his hat on his head, turned around, and stomped out the front door.
Emily hurried to get around Travis before he tried to grab hold of her again. She bent down to pick up the hem of her skirt and then went upstairs.
Travis stayed right behind her. "What did he say to you?"
She reached the landing, turned around, and held out her hand.
Travis saw the five dollars and started laughing. "I knew Jack was taken with you, but I never thought he'd give you your money back."
"He's a dear man."
He looked exasperated. "No, he isn't. He's a cantankerous old goat. He smells like one too. He sure does like you though."
"I like him too," she assured him.
Because he stood on the step below her, they were almost eye-to-eye. All she could think of was moving into his arms and kissing him. Emily realized then that she was staring at his mouth. Dear God, he was bound to know what she was thinking. It was all his fault, she decided. If he weren't such a handsome rogue, she surely wouldn't be having such impossible thoughts now.
"I'm tired tonight," she blurted out.
"You should be tired. You had your hands full with those drunks in the kitchen."
"I was scared."
"There isn't anything wrong with being scared. You used your wits."
Where in thunder were her wits now, she frantically wondered. Travis was turning her into a nervous twit, and if she didn't get away from him soon, heaven only knew what she would do.
She quickly turned around. "You don't need to follow me to my room. I'll find it by myself."
If he noticed her voice trembled, he didn't say anything about it. He caught hold of her hand and led her down the dark hallway to the door at the end of the corridor.
His arm brushed against hers as he leaned past her to open the door. "Your bags are probably inside."
"Yes, they probably are," she replied for lack of anything better to say.
Travis glanced inside and then nodded. "They're in the corner by the window."
"Your satchels," he explained when she gave him a puzzled look.
She shook herself out of her stupor and hurried inside. Travis stayed in the doorway. He knew he should pull the door closed now and walk away. He couldn't make himself move though, and, God help him, he couldn't stop staring at her either.