She listened to Asa’s steps descend the stairs. When he hit the small landing two steps from the bottom, he paused. She pictured him in her mind, getting his bearings and settling his expression into controlled amusement. When his steps didn’t resume immediately, her grin spread to a full smile. Poor baby, she must have really thrown him with her declaration of love.
The smile dropped as he continued down the stairs. She heard the study door creak open. She held her breath. If the men were going to drop each other on sight, this would be the moment. Gunshots didn’t boom, but voices did. She caught a stray “son of a bitch” and a harsh, “cold day in hell” before the study door slammed closed.
Neither did anything to settle her nerves. She started grabbing clothes willy-nilly from the dresser. She winced when a “the hell I do” shook the rafters. It would be a lot easier to let Asa handle things if she was confident the matter would be settled with discussion and not fists. For all his bluster, Asa wasn’t completely healed. Aaron knew it, too, because she’d mentioned the shooting in her note. If he took advantage of that, she’d—
She looked around the room, glanced under the bed, and found inspiration. She’d brain him with the chamber pot.
No more shouts broke through the muffling aspect of the closed door. All she could hear was the rise and fall of incomprehensible murmurs. She sat on the bed and dragged on her shoes. Wielding the boot hook like a weapon, she buttoned them tightly. When she was done, she strained to make out the conversation below. With no success.
She sprang to her feet and paced. They had no right to shut her out. She was as much a part of the problem as any of them. She had a right to be part of the solution, darn it! The rhythmic squeaking of the floor grated on her nerves. Grabbing the pillow she’d just finished embroidering the other day, she plopped into the wing-backed chair. She looked down at the needlework and shook her head. Her fingers traced over the intricate embroidery spelling out ‘Home, Sweet Home’. She crushed the pillow between her fingers before dropping it back into her lap. If Asa wanted his home to be sweet in the future, she decided, grabbing hairpins off the small table and twisting her hair up, he was going to have to stop being so darned protective.
A loud crash and a shaking of the floor beneath her feet startled her into jabbing a hair pin into her finger rather than her bun. She jerked her hand away. Every muscle in her body turned to stone as she sat, waiting, finger in her mouth, hoping against hope for a resumption of the shouting.
The floor shook again and she heaved a sigh. So much for peaceful solutions. She got up and jabbed the last hair pin into her hair. Dropping the pillow on the chair, she headed for the door. Her deal with Asa hadn’t included sacrificing her heirlooms to brawling.
She winced as another crash shook the walls. Damn Aaron! If he took advantage of Asa’s condition, he was going to have to deal with her. She hit the landing just as Aaron and Asa came hurtling through the study door. By leaning over the banister, she was able to save her Momma’s favorite vase from the table positioned below. The table was a total loss, shattering as four hundred pounds of angry male collided with it.
“Stop it!” she hollered around the flowers she’d spent a half hour arranging yesterday.
Her shout was lost amid the thump as both men landed on the floor, Aaron first with Asa on top.
“Don’t think they heard you.”
She looked up to find Cougar standing in the doorway to the study. An unlit cigarette rested between his lips.
“Why aren’t you stopping this?” she demanded.
His response was a shrug and a half smile as Asa landed a decent punch to Aaron’s face. “Doesn’t appear they’re through discussing things.”
She jumped as Aaron flipped Asa up into the railing. If they kept up this level of discussion, she wouldn’t have a house left. “They’re through.”
She tipped the large vase over, smiling as water and roses spilled onto the two men, conveniently landing in their faces and filling their noses and mouths.
As they spluttered and choked, she rested the vase on the railing and looked over at Cougar. “Do you think I have their attention now?”
His half smile turned to a full grin. “It would appear so.” His right eyebrow went up. With a dip of his chin, he redirected her attention. “At least, for the moment.”
She looked down to find the two men wiping blood and water from their faces, eyeing each other as if they were contemplating a rematch. “If you even think of resuming your previous unpleasantness, there will be hell to pay,” she informed them in no uncertain terms.