Taylor sounded bewildered. Victoria smiled in response. "It isn't the end of the world."
"They could drive a mother to drink," Taylor whispered.
Victoria laughed. "I'm certainly not an expert, but I do know this. You have to start saying no, and you have to mean it. You can't reason or negotiate with a two-year-old."
"I keep forgetting that," Taylor admitted. "I do try to reason with them."
"You try to placate them, too," Victoria told her. "They're old enough to understand certain rules. They're very intelligent." She sighed and added, "And adorable. It's difficult to say no when one of them is looking up with those big blue eyes and the tears start rolling down her cheeks."
Taylor knew what she was talking about. It was difficult not to give in.
"They are intelligent, and you're right, Victoria. I am going to have to be more assertive. They'll be completely out of hand if I don't."
After her friend went to bed, Taylor thought about the changes she was going to have to make to get the twins' attention. She fell asleep fretting, for the truth was difficult for any mother to admit, even an inept, thoroughly inexperienced one.
Her babies were brats.
Callaghan moved in the following night. Taylor rolled over in her bed, opened her eyes, and very nearly died of fright. The mountain man was sitting at her kitchen table, shoving day-old biscuits in his mouth two at a time.
A scream gathered in her throat, and her heart felt as though it had just stopped beating. Then his scent hit her, and she knew she wasn't going to die of fright at all. His smell would do her in. It was vile and rank and reminded her of skunks.
Taylor had never smelled anything like it. The stench made her eyes water and her stomach lurch. She didn't dare scream now. She'd have to take a deep breath first, and she simply didn't have the courage. She held the covers tight over her nose and her mouth and took tiny little pants of air while she stared at the deranged-looking man.
Callaghan. She remembered his name. She remembered Lucas's warning as well. He'd told her his stench would knock her over. He'd been right about that. He'd also told her he wasn't dangerous. She hoped to God he was also right about that.
He looked dangerous and wild. He was a good-sized man, but because he was hunched over the table, she couldn't guess his exact height. He wore dark brown buckskin pants and shirt and black boots with fur around the tops. His hair was long, stringy, and brown. She didn't know if that was his true hair color or if it was just as filthy as the rest of him and stained from years of going without a good scrubbing.
He turned and looked at her. She stared back. She wasn't at all afraid now. She knew that if she needed help, all she had to do was shout. Hunter was sleeping outside under the stars. He'd come running.
Callaghan wasn't a deranged maniac. His eyes were clear as day. She saw curiosity in his gaze and something else that started her temper boiling. There was a definite sparkle in those golden brown eyes.
"Aren't you going to scream?"
He asked her the question in a raspy voice filled with amusement. She shook her head no. He smiled, displaying brilliant white teeth, then turned back to the pan of half-eaten biscuits. He popped one into his mouth. "Needs salt."
Taylor finally got her wits back. She jumped out of bed, snatched the robe from where she'd left it draped over the back of one of the rockers, and hurriedly put it on.
Her gun was on the mantel. She edged her way close to the hearth to get the weapon just in case he turned hostile when she told him he was going to have to leave.
"Why did you think I would scream?"
"Most do," he answered with a shrug.
"And then what happens?"
"Their men throw me out. I don't stay out though. I come back inside. Yeap, I always do."
"When do you go back to the mountains?"
Taylor reached up to grab hold of her gun and only then noticed the bullets were all neatly lined up in a row behind the weapon. Callaghan was a whole lot more clever than she'd realized.
Her reaction surprised her: She started smiling.
"I leave when I'm ready."
"You're the real thing, aren't you, Callaghan?"
"Real what?" he asked.
"Mountain man."
She edged her way around the table with the intent of opening the door. If she didn't get some fresh air inside soon she feared she would faint.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't call to your man until I finish my breakfast."
"I'm not going to call to anyone," she promised. "I want fresh air. That's all."
Taylor opened the door and both windows. It didn't help much. She leaned against the entrance and stared at the intruder. He had the manners of a hog.
"I'll be wanting coffee tomorrow morning," he announced. "And a proper breakfast."
He kept giving her quick glances to judge her reaction. Taylor kept right on smiling at him.
"It's all right if you want to scream now. I'm finished," he announced. He made the bench scrape against the floor when he stood up.
"I bet you have lots of stories to tell about life as a mountain man."
"Thousands," he agreed.
"Do you know who Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett were?"
"I'm not ignorant," he snapped. "Of course I've heard of them. They're dead, woman. I know that, too. They weren't from these mountains neither," he added with a nod. "We got our own tales to tell from our hills. Men like Tom Howard and Sparky Dawson and Montana…"
Victoria's scream interrupted Callaghan. Taylor jumped a foot in reaction. She had been so engrossed in the conversation, she hadn't noticed the bedroom door open. Her dear friend took one look at the back of the stranger and let out a screech that could wake Redemption.
Taylor moved out of the way in the nick of time. Hunter came running through the entrance with his gun drawn. "Callaghan," he roared.
"Morning, Hunter."
Callaghan called out the greeting. Taylor hurried across the room to help Victoria. Her dear friend was gagging now and looked like she was going to faint.
"He's harmless," Taylor whispered to Victoria. "If you go back in your room and close the door, the smell shouldn't bother you too much."
"That's what woke me up," Victoria whispered back. She gagged again. Taylor pulled the edge of her robe up to cover the lower part of her face. "Hold this close and take little breaths."
Victoria quickly did as she suggested. Her eyes were still wide with fright. Taylor left her friend sagging against the door frame and went to fetch her gun. She noticed her children peeking down from between the rails of the banister and smiled up at them.
She picked up her gun from the mantel and quickly loaded it. Hunter was threatening to kill Callaghan.
"You've got ten seconds to get out of here," he ordered. "And if I ever see you again, I'm going to kill you."
"He's not going anywhere."
Taylor had to repeat her decision a second time before she gained the men's attention. Hunter was certain he'd misunderstood her.
"What did you say?"
"He's not leaving." She smiled at Hunter. She wanted to laugh. He looked dumbfounded. "He told me he'll only just keep coming back."
Callaghan slapped the tabletop with his hand and started laughing. He stopped just as abruptly when she pointed her gun at him.
"You going to shoot me?"
"No," she answered. "But you aren't leaving until I say you can leave."
Callaghan turned to Hunter. His expression showed his concern. "She crazy?"
Hunter nodded. "She must be."
"She's overworked and exhausted and not thinking straight," Victoria cried out. Her voice was muffled by the fabric she held over her mouth. "Taylor, are you out of your mind?"
"Probably," Taylor answered. She laughed then and turned her gaze to the loft. "Daniel David?"