Cade's Justice. Pat Tracy

knew she was flushing again. “I assumed as much.”

      A strong sense of self-preservation, however, reminded her that there was no way a single female could share lodgings with a man who wasn’t her father or brother or husband. Considering her limited resources, an unblemished reputation literally meant the difference between life or death. If she was foolish enough to deviate from the straight and narrow path of circumspect behavior, all future doors of employment would be slammed in her face.

      Despite Gideon Cade’s occasional lapses in gentlemanly conduct, he must know the strict rules governing the social etiquette between men and women. Either his thoughts were more chaste than hers, or he found her so unappealing that it would never occur to him that anyone could misinterpret his motives in having her stay. Emma found both possibilities deeply demoralizing.

      She could not, however, ignore the fact that rich, devilishly handsome men didn’t entertain lascivious thoughts about plain, impoverished schoolteachers. And she knew for a certainty that she was plain. For as far back as she could remember, her adult caretakers had repeatedly said her appearance was sadly lacking.

      “I take it you’re not enthusiastic about my suggestion.”

      Mr. Cade’s thumb continued its subtly rhythmic stroking.

      “I want to go home,” she said quietly.

      Neither smile nor frown altered the straight line of his mouth.

      “All right.”

      “Thank you.” She glanced at her abandoned shoe. She hated him seeing the newspaper she’d used to compensate for the almost worn through soles. Having him know the extent of her poverty grated sharply on her pride. The idea that he might be silently laughing at her cut to the quick. Making no comment, he reached for the soggy piece of footwear. Had there ever been a night in her life when she felt more beleaguered? Seemingly lost in reflection, he sat the shoe on the table next to her.

      While he looked for all the world like a cynical, jaded version of Prince Charming, she boasted no princesslike attributes. Loutitia Hempshire was no fairy godmother. Her waterlogged shoe in no way resembled a glass slipper. And the wayward mongrel who’d complicated tonight’s events was in no danger of being transformed into a magnificent stallion fit to pull a golden coach. On the bright side, though, there wasn’t an evil stepmother or sister in sight.

      “Take heart, Miss Step. In less than an hour, you’ll be tucked safely in your own bed. By noon tomorrow, tonight’s disagreeable chain of events will be only a faint memory.”

       Chapter Four

      Emma sat beside Gideon Cade in his covered coach as it navigated Denver’s predawn mist. She cast a sideways glance at Courtney’s uncle. His profile didn’t reveal his thoughts. It was hard to believe this stranger had carried her in his arms, run his fingers over her bare foot and looked at her naked leg. It staggered her that, in the space of a few hours, she’d experienced so many intimacies at his hand. They’d exchanged the most barbed of insults.

      Incredible… She was a woman who’d grown accustomed to being isolated. Yet a single encounter with the brash Mr. Cade had cracked the social barriers she’d erected to survive in a world that accepted her only on its terms. From a very young age, she’d taken those terms to heart. Be competent, be silent unless spoken to, and hold all personal emotions deeply within yourself.

      One of Gideon Cade’s remarks returned—that the evening’s events would be quickly forgotten. Not by her. A lifetime wouldn’t be long enough to erase this strange interlude with a man who’d managed to shatter the reserve that had become the bedrock of her character.

      The carriage proceeded at a snail’s crawl toward the academy. Emma decided her companion was too big to share such cramped quarters with another person. His broad shoulders took up entirely too much room. There was no getting used to his thigh rubbing intimately against the side of her leg.

      Nor could she relax with his arm draped across the back of their seat. His jacket’s sleeve brushed her hair. The subtle friction was enough to keep her off balance. In her present mood, she deemed his booted feet overly large and encroaching. He was probably taking up more than his fair portion of air, too. Though she had to admit that the faint whiff of hair tonic emanating from him was preferable to the smell of wet dog.

      She hazarded a quick glance around him. He had plenty of room on his other side. Instead of scrunching her between himself and the carriage’s inner wall, he could have easily slid half a foot to his right. Contrary man.

      “What can you tell me about the financial trouble facing the academy?”

      The unexpected question made Emma start. She should have known he wouldn’t allow their ride to pass in silence. “Only what Miss Loutitia confided to me.” “Out with it, Miss Step. Don’t keep me in suspense.” Emma resented the hint of boredom that laced his inquiry. A matter of grave consequence to her was only mildly noteworthy to him. She wondered how he would like it if his world were suddenly turned upside down. Realistically, however, it was impossible to imagine anything of sufficient magnitude to threaten a man of Gideon Cade’s abundant resources.

      “She told me there isn’t enough capital to keep the school operating for more than another ten days.”

      “She must be an extremely negligent businesswoman.” “How can you say that? You’ve never met her.” “When you consider the girls attending her school belong to some of the wealthiest families in the West, it stands to reason only an incompetent could run the business into bankruptcy.”

      “I won’t sit here and listen to you insult Loutitia.” “Even as short as you are, Miss Step, I think you would have trouble standing in my carriage.”

      “I’m not short!”

      “You’re not?” he drawled with maddening humor.

      He was staring at her with those damnably assessing eyes of his. She stared right back at him. It was best that they got this business about her height cleared up.

      “I am merely less tall than some.”

      “Less tall?”

      If he wasn’t careful, he might actually smile. While the thought of the implacable Mr. Cade actually doing something as human as smiling wasn’t totally disagreeable, she didn’t want the smile to come at her expense.

      “You’ll probably think it a matter of semantics, but I happen to detest the word short. Nor is it accurate in my case.”

      “It isn’t?”

      “Certainly not. Tempers grow short, young men’s pants are short, and so are fall days.”

      “I stand corrected,” he said softly.

      Unprepared for his surrender, Emma blinked. The lamp that hung in the carriage was turned to sufficient brightness for her to notice the subtle easing of the harsh lines marking his face. The shadow of an evening beard darkened his jaw.

      “I have an entire list of things that are short,” she ventured, in case he wasn’t convinced.

      “It won’t be necessary to go through it. Why are you so protective toward Miss Loutitia?”

      “Her offer of employment gave me the opportunity to begin a new life in the West.” At the reminder that she was about to become unemployed, fear squeezed Emma’s stomach.

      “How did that come about?”

      The man was full of questions. Answering them lessened the silent tension. “There was an advertisement in the Phil’ adelphia Sentinel announcing teaching positions west of the Missouri.”

      “What were you doing before you responded to the advertisement?”

      “Teaching.”