Catherine stopped and blinked through blurry eyes, her anger suddenly deflated. “Don’

t you see, Gunter?” she whispered. “I’ve frightened Nora so badly that an innocent game of hide-and-seek scares her.”

Gunter stared at her, his chest heaving and his eyes clouded with uncertainty. “How do you know, Catherine? How can you know Cody wasn’t being mean?”

“I trust him, Gunter. The same way I trust you.”

Catherine reached out and touched his chest again, gently this time, and quietly spoke to the young man she’d come to care so much about. “You acted without thinking, Gunter. You’ve lived with Cody longer than I have. Would he purposely scare Nora? Is he really that malicious?”

“No.”

“You owe him an apology,” she said.

Cody, who had either wisely or painfully remained silent until now, suddenly sucked in his breath. “No,” he croaked. “I don’t need an apology.”

Catherine turned and tried to help the battered boy to his feet. Gunter silently moved around her and carefully lifted Cody up, holding him by the shoulder when he started to sway.

Cody ignored Gunter, instead keeping his attention on Catherine, staring at her in silence. “Thank you,” he finally said. “I’ve never really done anything in particular to earn your trust—but thank you,” he whispered.

“Don’t thank me, Cody. I need to apologize to you. Nora overreacted, and it’s my fault. I

’ll talk with her.” Catherine’s eyes welled up with tears as she looked at the battered young man. “Will you please let me explain it to her, and—and still be her friend?”

Robbie MacBain watched as Cody tried to comprehend the terrified mother who was apologizing to him for trying to protect her children. He scrubbed his face several times, up and down, hoping to work the blood back into it. He looked over at Marcus and saw that the man was as pale as he was. Never, ever, did he want to witness anything like that again.

He didn’t know which had been harder; to see his defenseless housekeeper standing squarely in front of an enraged young man, to see her anguish at her children’s fears, or to see the undisputed testimony of her scars that told him just where those fears were founded. It had taken every ounce of willpower he possessed not to interfere and all of his strength to hold back Marcus Saints.

Never, ever, did he want to see that again.

Breaking into the charged silence, Robbie slapped Marcus on the back. “Come on, warden, I’ll buy you a drink in my office.”

Saints dazedly nodded and let Robbie lead him out of the kitchen. They walked through the attached shed to the office Robbie had built on the end of the garage two years ago—

which was also where he kept his medicinal supply of scotch whisky.

But tonight’s dose would probably be the whole bottle before either man would get his emotions back under control.

No… never again.

“I want to know where you found her,” Marcus demanded half a bottle later.

“Raiding my henhouse,” Robbie returned, taking another sip of his scotch.

“What?”

“Just another delinquent for my farm.”

“No, really, where did you find her? She got any sisters?”

“Hell, I hope not. One Catherine Daniels is enough.”

“She’s not from around here.”

“Arkansas.”

Marcus whistled. “She answer an ad in the paper? How did you word it? ‘Position open for adventuresome woman. Pay is two thousand dollars a week. Extensive health plan and a retirement fund after only six months’?”

Robbie scowled at him. “I found her raiding my henhouse six days ago. She and her kids were hiding out in an old cabin up on the mountain.”

Robbie could tell Marcus still didn’t believe him. He took another sip of his drink and tried again. “She’s running away from the bastard who gave her those scars.”

Marcus looked at Robbie and then at his empty glass. “Is she divorced?”

“Aye.”

“Got custody of the kids?”

“Aye.”

“Does he know she’s here?”

“Not yet.”

“Dammit, give me a break. She told Gunter he went to prison. Is he out?”

“Paroled three months ago.”

Marcus closed his eyes. “She’ll be safe here.”

“Aye, she will.”

“Maybe,” his friend clarified, glaring at Robbie with slightly drunk eyes. “How the hell could you just stand there and let that happen? How could you know Gunter wasn’t going to flatten her against the wall? Dammit! She stood nose-to-chest with the meanest brawler this side of the Canadian border!”

“Let’s just call it instinct, Saints.” Robbie sighed and looked down at his drink. “At least, that’s what I knew at the time. Looking back, I would say I was insane. I honest to God don’t know how I just stood there, either.” He took a sip of his drink and continued.

“But Gunter finally got a good look at violence from a victim’s perspective, didn’t he? So I guess my instinct was right.”

“Do you ever screw up, MacBain?”

“Nay, never. That’s why you gave me the boys, isn’t it?”

Marcus snorted. “They’re here because no one else wants them. Hell, even the detention center didn’t want Gunter.”

“It would have only made him harder, and you know it.”

Marcus refilled his glass and took another long swallow of the nerve-calming liquor.

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I moved heaven and earth to get him here.”

Robbie chuckled. “You know that fierce little cat you just saw in the kitchen?”

“Yeah?”

“She’s been a firecracker waiting to explode all day. She was sure you and Martha would find fault with something and take Cody and Rick and Peter away. I think she would have taken a stick to you both if you had tried.”

Marcus snorted. “That’s why I was getting suspicious looks all afternoon, when I wasn’t getting cookies shoved down my throat.” A sudden gleam appeared in his eyes. “You—

ah—have room for two more boys, don’t you?”

“Nay.”

“Oh, come on, MacBain. This house is big.”

Robbie set his glass down on the desk, lowered his feet to the floor, and stood up. “I have a logging crew of twelve men—some of which, I might add, have run my rigs off the road when Cat went jogging by in her short shorts. I have four boys who are just starting to get their acts together and now two little children who are afraid of their own shadows. I’ve got a housekeeper who is scared to death of anything bigger than she is—

which is just abouteverything —and now I’ve taken on the impossible task of trying to court the woman. And you want me to add to that?”

Marcus’s jaw, which had gone slack, suddenly snapped shut. “You’re going to court her?” he asked, his eyes wide and glazed with drink. “As in marriage?” he croaked, just before he burst into laughter.

“What’s so funny about that?”

Marcus snorted. “Robert MacBain, the most eligible bachelor in the north Maine woods,” he said, waving his hand at the air. “And a man most determined to stay that way, rumor has it. You want to court Catherine Daniels?” he asked, breaking into another spasm of laughter.

“Aye!”

Marcus finally turned serious and shook his head. “That woman will never become another man’s wife.”

“Aye, she will. Catherine is going to marry me, and she’ll damn well be deliriously happy about it!”

They both refilled their glasses at that arrogant statement. One with determination, one with awe.

Chapter Fourteen

Cody was settledin his bed with an ice bag on his face, a ginger ale for his upset stomach, and the promise of some stew when he felt better. Dinner had been a quiet affair, with Robbie and Marcus conspicuously absent and Nora and Nathan back to their quiet selves. Gunter had decided he needed a walk more than he needed supper, and Rick and Peter were doing the dishes without even being asked.

Catherine was now in the barn, facing her two children as they sat on a bale of hay and stared at her with rounded eyes filled with uncertainty.