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kitchen, down the hallway and out the front door, where he deposited him on the porch.
    After closing and locking the door, he brushed his hands off and strolled back into the kitchen. “What’s for supper?”
    Calliope stood across the room from him, tears brimming her eyes and rubbing her arm where Melrose had grabbed her. She stared at him, taking deep breaths and chewing her lip.
    “Come here, sweetheart,” he said softly as he crooked his finger at her.
    She hurried across the room and threw herself into his arms. “Thank God you came home when you did.”
    He brushed back the hair from her cheeks and stared at her upturned face. “I’m sorry he even got as far as he did. I never should have left you alone until this was settled.”
    “When I told him I was married he called me a liar and threatened to kill you and marry me anyway. You have to be careful. He’s dangerous.”
    He grinned. “Honey, it will take more than a few threats from that windbag to worry me. Don’t trouble yourself. Tomorrow I’ll make a visit to his farm and get a few things straightened out. But right now I want you to calm down and not worry. Let me do the worrying in this family.”
    She burrowed her head in his chest, the steady beat of his heart calming her. He tightened his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. She’d never concerned herself with the leering looks Rupert had tossed her way the last few years, since she’d always felt protected by her father. Her neighbor was a man who took what he wanted, and he’d just proved he would take what he wanted by force if necessary.
    And he wanted her.
    But Papa also controlled her life. He made the decisions and he ran the farm. Yet he left the farm to her, so he must have trusted her judgment.
    Hadn’t he? Or had he actually promised Rupert she would marry him? She shuddered thinking of Rupert with his hands on her body. Stephen rubbed her back. “Come. I’ll fetch you a small drink.”
    She shook her head. “We don’t keep sprits in the house.”
    “I brought some with me. I like a drink once in a while, and I believe you could use one now.” He turned his regard to Bertha who stood watching the entire episode play out. “How long until supper?”
    She broke into a huge grin. “Mr. McCoy, I like the way you took care of that Mr. Melrose.” She waved a cooking spoon at him. “He is a mean one, though, so if I were you I’d watch my back.”
    “Thanks for the warning, I will be careful.”
    “Supper in about a half hour,” Bertha said as she turned to stir something bubbling on the top of the stove.
    He grabbed two glasses from the shelf over the table and took Calliope by the hand to lead her to the parlor. He dug around his saddle bags he’d dropped on the floor near the sofa when they had arrived earlier today. After a few minutes of scrounging around, he pulled out a bottle of whiskey.
    “I don’t know if I should have any of that.” She eyed it suspiciously. “Papa said women didn’t imbibe spirits.”
    “Your papa was correct. However, there are times when a little bit settles the nerves.” He poured about two fingers into a glass and handed it to her. “Drink up.”
    She took a sip of the vile tasting stuff, then quickly swallowed it all in one gulp, losing her breath as it slid down her throat and burned its way to her stomach. She began to cough, trying desperately to suck some air into her lungs.
    Stephen sat alongside her on the sofa and rubbed her back. “You probably shouldn’t have swallowed it all at once.”
    “Now you tell me.” She gasped the words out, tears running down her face.
    He raised his own glass. “See it’s to be savored.” He took a gentle sip and smiled at her.
    She hadn’t noticed how nice his smile was. Well, maybe she had, but hadn’t really spent much time thinking about it. The warmth from the whiskey was settling into her, reaching her fingertips and toes, making her bones feel softer. Stephen was a