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looked back. “And for the record, my discharge was honorable,” Trace told them. “It’s the other bastard who’ll be missing Christmas with his family for the next five years. And Johnnie, you bring those papers to me at the docks tomorrow, along with whatever money Fiona gave you over a hundred bucks.”
    “Five hundred dollars was a bargain.”
    Trace tried not to show his shock. She’d given him all her money?
    Because she had wanted the dog that badly?
    Or because she hadn’t dared say no to Dempster?
    Taking an educated guess, he gave a negligent shrug. “It’s your funeral when Gregor finds out you bullied his sister into buying that dog.”
    “Bullied?” Johnnie glared at him for several seconds, then suddenly snorted and reached into his pocket. “What in hell is up with that woman, anyway?” he muttered as he walked over and handed Trace a wad of fifty-dollar bills. “Just tell her I changed my mind and she can have the dog. All the money she gave me is there, minus what I spent on the collar and dog food.” He shook his head. “I swear she thought I was going to drown the little runt if she didn’t buy it, and a couple of times she acted as if she thought I might drown her . Was she married to some bastard who abused her over there in Scotland?”
    Trace shoved the money into his pocket. “Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is that she likes to keep to herself.”
    Johnnie arched a brow. “Maybe she prefers women.”
    Even though he was tempted to solve his future problems by letting Dempster spread that particular rumor around town, Trace shook his head. “Naw, she’s just leery of men. That, and she’s trying to get used to living in a new … country.”
    Johnnie extended his hand. “No hard feelings, okay?” he said, his beard curving into a smile. “I’m sorry for that crack about Afghanistan.” His smile broadened. “Although I still say I could take you. I’ve packed on some muscle since that time you punched me in the first grade.”
    Trace shifted the dog food to his other shoulder and shook Johnnie’s hand. “Yeah, I suppose it takes plenty of muscle to run the toggles on your skidder and tree harvester. You come out fishing with me some day, Dempster, and I’ll show you what real work is.”
    Johnnie gave a laugh and headed to a small blue car. “I’ll bring my skidder down to the dock, and we’ll hitch it to the stern of your boat and go chain-to-chain.”
    “Last I knew, skidders can’t swim, and neither can you.”
    Johnnie climbed into the car and rolled down his window. “I appreciate the heads-up on Fiona.” He snorted again. “I really need to stop being a sucker for a pretty face. I just spent all last month pulling one woman’s claws out of my flesh; I should probably let the wounds heal before I let another one maim me again.”
    “Been there and done that myself,” Trace drawled, “and personally, I don’t ever intend to let another woman get that close again.” He gestured toward Jason. “And if your brother’s half as smart as he is pretty, maybe he’ll learn from your mistakes.”
    Johnnie started the car and put it in gear but looked atTrace. “I’ll call you, and we’ll go over to that new bar in Oak Harbor and toast our bachelorhood,” he said, pulling onto Main Street and heading toward Ellsworth.
    Trace set the dog food in the back of his truck, then leaned his arms on the fender to watch Fiona and Gabriella walking down the sidewalk toward home. The puppy apparently had never worn a collar before, much less had to deal with a leash restricting its movements. One minute it was lunging ahead to go after something, and the next it was fighting Fiona’s efforts to pull it along.
    Trace glanced over his shoulder at the sound of a powerful small engine and saw William Killkenny veer his motorcycle into the parking lot, missing a car by inches before coming to an abrupt stop beside him.
    “It’s a little cold to be riding a