Page 8 of A Dangerous Heart (Wind River Mail-Order Brides #4)

Eli leaned forward. “You tripped Jo when she was blindfolded,” he shouted.

Clare scanned the crowd and saw Jo and Ben huddled at one side.

Jo edged through the crowd with a slight limp, Ben at her side, holding her hand.

They joined Clare, Eli, and Isaac facing the accusers, like sides of a battle drawn.

The bodice of Jo’s pretty, flowered calico dress appeared no worse for wear.

But the skirt had mud marks and a tear at the knee, while dusty brown splotches clung to the bottom ruffle.

“She’s just a stupid tomboy who can’t keep up with the rest of the boys.

” The witless boy fired another shot, this one aimed at Jo, but Eli reacted like he was the target.

With a growl, he sprang on the boy like a wounded mountain lion.

Eli landed a solid punch to his stomach before Clare threw her body between them, taking the brunt of a wild swing meant for Eli.

Pain exploded across the left side of her face.

Enraged, Eli tucked his head, a bull intent on driving into the boy. At the same moment, the boy lifted his elbow and jabbed Eli in the face. Eli’s head snapped back, and his scrappy body staggered. The blow would have knocked him on his back, but in one swift movement, Isaac scooped him up.

Eli struggled and flailed.

Isaac ignored both Eli and the gawking crowd and stalked off, the boy tucked under his arm.

Clare watched his retreating form for a beat, then turned back to Jo. Her cheek throbbed like a thousand wasps had stung her. “Ben, you and Jo go back to Kaitlyn.”

They would meet up there.

If Isaac didn’t march them all the way to the train station.

Isaac set the still-struggling Eli down in a dusty alleyway. Clare pushed forward to get between the two. Isaac used his arm to block her.

“Don’t hurt him.” She braced for a blow, ready to take the fist that surely would be aimed in Eli’s direction.

Isaac froze. Clare froze. Behind her, Eli must have been holding his breath.

Isaac’s dark eyes searched her face, landing on her cheek.

She’d misread the situation. He saw too much.

“I’m not gonna hit him, Clare.”

She stepped aside, but not before she widened her eyes at Eli, a warning to tread carefully. Please don’t give anything away .

Isaac squatted in front of Eli, and she couldn’t help but notice the way his muscled shoulders shifted beneath his shirt.

He lifted his hand to touch Eli’s swelling eye.

Eli flinched but stayed rooted in place, his chin jutting up stubbornly.

He was a picture of Victor daring their father to hit him.

“You’ve got a real good shiner blooming there. Doesn’t look like the skin is broken though.”

Eli’s body remained tight, alert, like a caged raccoon’s, his eyes darting to Clare and back to Isaac. Stay calm , she willed him.

“Must sting like the dickens.” The soft drawl coming from this tough, impassive rancher thickened Clare’s throat. It must have had a similar effect on poor Eli. His eyes pooled with tears that leaked and ran down his dirt-encrusted face. He swiped at them angrily.

“Well…” Isaac stood. He moved his hands to his hips and gave Eli’s face one last perusal.

“I reckon he’s feeling worse than you, especially with that fat bloody lip.

May have even bruised his ribs with the last walloping punch.

” He spoke evenly. “Much obliged to you for sticking up for Jo. Next time, get David first. McGraws don’t confront bullies alone. ”

Eli’s tight jaw slackened. When his mouth snapped shut, his eyes held a glint of admiration.

“Yes, sir,” he croaked.

Clare’s eyes stung with the threat of tears.

Isaac pulled a clean bandanna from his back pocket and offered it to Eli. Eli wiped his face with careful swipes around his blackened eye.

“Head back to Kaitlyn and get yourself some lemonade.”

Eli inhaled and shuddered out a breath. He tucked his shirt in his pants and headed to the town square.

When Clare would have followed, Isaac said, “Wait.”

She went still, her back to Isaac. Her heartbeat kicked up, pulsing in her ears.

He came up even with her, not quite shoulder to shoulder, at the mouth of the alleyway, watching Eli go. A long moment passed before he spoke.

“You wanna tell me why Eli cowers like that? Why you thought I was going to hit him?”

She bit her lip. No, she didn’t.

“You’ve kept his pa out of every conversation I’ve heard.” He was far too observant. His gaze shifted briefly to her cheek, and his jaw tightened.

“How long have you been stepping in and taking the blows for him?” His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of something—anger, maybe at himself for not being quick enough to stop her, or just at seeing Clare hurt.

Clare didn’t want him asking questions about the boys’ father. She’d prefer not to lie to him. Lying just leads to more lies , Anne would always say.

“Are we getting to know each other better now?” She tipped her chin up in challenge. “Because if we are, I have a question of my own I’d like answered. Why don’t you carry even one pistol? And why did you leave the U.S. Marshals?”

She stared him down.

A muscle jumped in his cheek.

“Is it because you can’t shoot?”

His eyes flashed like he was surprised, or angry that she’d said it aloud. His mouth opened, ready to snap back, but she cut him off. “I won’t tell anyone.”

She didn’t have time to register the flare of emotion that passed behind his eyes before a voice called his name.

“Isaac! I need you.”

Drew’s angry strides hammered the boardwalk. His normally tanned face was white with fury.

“Quade’s hired some men from out of town to reroute the river.”