Free Two Brothers by Linda Lael Miller Page A

sound mingled with the music in her blood, became the breath in her lungs,formed a swift counterbeat to the pounding of her heart. As simply, as quickly, as deeply as that, he was a part of her, like a fever or a memory or an inherited trait. “Now don’t take offense, darlin’,” he said. “I meant the question honorably.” Having so spoken, he bent his head and touched his lips to hers once more.
    Aislinn had been kissed before that night, mostly by shy boys back at home, though once when she was serving coffee in Kansas City, a cattleman with a waxed mustache had jumped up, declared himself to be an ardent admirer, thrown his arms around her while she was still staring at him, dumbfounded, and planted a big smack on her mouth.
    None of those kisses had been anything like the ones Shay McQuillan gave her that evening on the shadowy veranda of the town’s only hotel, with music flowing around them like an unseen river. None of them had bolted through her like hot lightning, taken the starch out of her knees, rendered her light-headed, left her breathless and blinking and utterly mystified.
    “My goodness,” she gasped, when the faculty of speech returned.
    He laughed again and, holding her shoulders in those strong hands, kissed her forehead. “I guess you’d better get back inside, Aislinn, before Eugenie comes out here with that shotgun of hers.”
    “I reckon that’s good advice,” Eugenie put in. The light in the open doorway framed her ample figure, but her features were in shadow and her voice gave away nothing of what she was thinking.
    Aislinn’s lungs deflated instantly and took their time filling up again. If Eugenie let her go now, she’d have no hope of bringing her brothers west anytime soon. She cast a frantic look up into Shay’s eyes, then turned to flee.
    He caught hold of her arm, and the motion, though fast, was gentle. “Good night, Aislinn,” he said calmly. “Sleep well.”
    Sleep well? She probably wouldn’t close her eyes before dawn, whether Eugenie allowed her to stay on at the hotel or ordered her to leave as soon as she’d made suitable arrangements for herself. She nodded hastily and made her escape, slipping past the other woman as she hurried over the threshold.
    Shay watched Aislinn vanish, feeling as hot and hard as a desert rock, and waited, bemused, for the lecture that was surely forthcoming. Everybody in Prominence knew how fiercely Eugenie guarded her “gals,” and close observation during recent meals in the dining room had convinced him that Aislinn was a particular favorite of the clientele.
    “Where’s your shotgun?” he asked, when Eugenie did not follow Aislinn inside, but instead came to stand beside him at the porch railing.
    She was about as gracious as a mama grizzly with a snout full of wasps, but she had always treated Shay with a certain rough kindness, and he liked her. “Don’t think I wouldn’t shoot you, just because you’re wearin’ that star,” she barked.
    Shay chuckled. “I’m not expecting any special treatment,” he said.
    “Good,” Eugenie retorted, with a huff, “’cause you ain’t about to get any such thing from me. You want to court that girl, you do so proper-like, and come callin’ for her at the kitchen door, between suppertime and eight o’clock, or on Sunday afternoon.” She paused and searched his face, her eyes bright even in the gloom. “Aislinn’s worth ten of any of the others, and even though she’s had some grief and made her way in the world alone, she’s an innocent little thing. Sees things in the light of her own high principles. She’ll believe what you tell her, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll either behave in a manner befittin’ that kind of trust or head the other way, fast. If you’ve a mind to entertainyourself at cost to her, I’ll advise you to take your devilment someplace else.”
    Shay regarded his old friend with respect and a certain tenderness, too, though the