Unending Devotion (Michigan Brides #1)(24)

But there was something about the hard set of his jaw that spoke of a life fraught with danger. The set of brass rings he wore above his knuckles shouted of the violence for which he was known.

The room grew silent, and Frankie shrank against Lily.

Carr’s deep-set eyes went directly to the young ladies like a hound catching scent of its prey. With his forefinger and thumb he twisted the long curl at the end of his well-groomed mustache, and something just as twisted gleamed in his eyes.

Connell’s hand slid to his hunting knife, sheathed under his shirt in the leather scabbard he wore strapped from his shoulder, across his chest, to his waist. He’d never had much time for James Carr, had always figured as long as the man didn’t bother him, he wouldn’t concern himself with what Carr did or didn’t do.

But something deep inside told him Carr had overstepped the parameter this time—in a big way.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Carr?” Vera rested her fists on her wide hips, glaring at the man as if she’d like to cut him up and serve him for supper. Mr. Heller had come in from the stable and stood behind his wife.

“It seems to me there was a misunderstanding down at the train station.” Carr’s voice was much too soft for a man of his six-foot height.

Stuart hunched over, stared at his plate, and stuffed spoonful after spoonful of beans into his mouth.

Carr pinned his stare upon Frankie. “And I’ve come to collect my newest employee.”

Lily slipped off her bench and stood at her tallest. “Look, mister.” She glared at Carr. “I don’t know what kind of evil has possession of you. But you won’t be taking Frankie out of here except over my dead body.”

Stuart choked.

Connell fought back a grin. The situation was too dangerous for him to find even the slightest humor in it. But still he couldn’t keep himself from wanting to smile—especially at the fact that Lily had been the first to stand up to Carr.

He should have realized she’d have no problem confronting the man and saying her piece.

Carr sized up Lily like he was calculating how much money he could make off her young flesh, and his gaze lingered on her face almost as if he recognized her.

Any humor Connell may have found in the situation evaporated like steam rising from a pot on a sub-zero day. Cold anger propelled him off his bench.

Carr’s boots tapped increasingly louder as he crossed the room toward Lily. “Seems to me you’re getting yourself involved in something that isn’t any of your business.”

“I’ve made it my business.” Lily didn’t flinch. “And I aim to keep doing the best I can to rescue helpless victims from tyrants like you.”

Connell slipped his hand underneath his shirt and unsheathed his knife. If Carr tried to touch Lily—if he threatened her in the least—he’d give the man a scar to boast about.

Vera pulled her wooden spoon from her apron pocket, apparently unwilling to allow Carr to threaten Lily either. “Mr. Carr, if your mama knew what you were up to here in Harrison, she’d drown in her tears.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing she’s already dead, isn’t it?”

“Now, you go on and get yourself out of here and don’t come back.” Vera waggled the spoon in front of Carr’s face. Mr. Heller backed away, his eyes wide and childlike.

“I’ll be on my way just as soon as I get what’s mine.” He crooked one of his fingers at Frankie, giving her a wide view of the brass knuckles running the width of his hand.

She shriveled like a little girl being bullied on a school playground.

Lily slipped an arm around the girl’s waist. “Frankie’s not yours. She never was, and she never will be.”

“I paid for her train fare here.” Carr’s voice was frighteningly calm. “She’s mine until she works it off.”

“I’ll pay for her fare.”

Frankie glanced at Lily with surprise.

Carr’s lips moved up into a smirk. But there was something dark, almost deadly in his expression that told Connell loud and clear the man wasn’t playing a game.

“How much does she owe you?” Lily asked.

“Like I said, it’s none of your business.” Carr reached for the girl.

Lily jerked Frankie back. “And like I said, I’m paying her bill.”

“And just how are you planning to do that?” Carr eyed Lily again in a way that made Connell’s insides harden into ice.

“Don’t worry. It might take me some time to get the money. But I will.”

“I suppose you could come up to the Stockade in place of Frankie and work off her debt.”

Vera gasped and Frankie followed suit.

Connell shook his head, disgust rolling through his gut. “That’s enough, Carr.”

Carr glanced at him, as if seeing him for the first time. His gaze flickered to Connell’s side, to the knife partially hidden in his palm.

“Connell McCormick,” Carr said softly, moving his hand to his waist and pushing aside his town coat, revealing the dark curved grip of his Colt. “I didn’t take you for the kind of man who sticks his nose into problems that aren’t his.”

“I don’t.” Connell wasn’t worried about Carr’s pistol. With the fifteen feet between them, Connell calculated he could throw his knife into Carr’s arm at least two seconds before the man could get the gun out of his holster.