Free Dalton, Tymber - Hernando Heat (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Tymber Dalton Page B

her? What if she caused a rift between the men?
    What if Mason hated her? Thought her a whore for so easily settling for this solution?
    She couldn’t let herself think that, so she threw herself into busy work, dusting and rearranging and organizing her shop. That’s why she didn’t look up at first a little before lunch time when the bell jangled on the front door. She was standing on the top step of a ladder and struggling to reach and dust the far corner of an out-of-the-way shelf. “I’ll be right with you.”
    “You should be careful there, Katherine. You wouldn’t want to fall and have an accident.”
    She dropped the feather duster with a terrified squeak and grabbed hold of the ladder as it swayed under her. Her former brother-in-law, Edward Dorchester, Jr. stood just feet away from the ladder.
    Anger and fear coursed through her, and she immediately scrambled down to safety, retreating toward the doorway leading to the back room. Just inside, the shotgun lay propped against the wall where she could reach it. “Get out of my store!”
    “Aw, I haven’t seen you in a while and you treat me like that? Father sent me to try to talk some reason into you.” She hated the pleasant tone of voice he used, fake sweetness she knew hid a rotten, evil core. “I wish you’d let me court you. I can understand how—”
    “Get out!”
    His face hardened as he took another step toward her. “You want us out of your life? Then you know what you have to do. Sign that property over to us and we’ll never bother you again.”
    She tried to turn and race for the doorway, but her feet tangled in her skirts and he was on top of her before she could regain her footing. He slammed her back, hard, against the wall, knocking the breath out of her lungs.
    Screaming was impossible with his forearm pressed hard against her throat. “I could kill you right now,” he growled, “and no one would ever know what happened to you. Break your neck. Make it look like an unfortunate accident. The poor Widow Dorchester tragically killed, falling from her ladder while dusting in her shop. Then the property would revert to us as next of kin. You sure you want to risk—”
    The bell jangled. “Katie, I thought—you son of a bitch!” Joe roared, and suddenly Katie could breathe again as the pressure of Dorchester’s arm disappeared.
    She sank to the floor, coughing and clutching her throat as Joe punched the other man, sounds of inarticulate rage coming from him.
    Shelby Ainsley chose that minute to walk through the door. While Shelby stared for a moment, shocked, Katie regained her voice and her wits. “Shelby! Go get the sheriff, quick!” The woman turned and bolted into the street, screaming for help.
    Edward had managed to land a few blows of his own. Now the men were scuffling, evenly matched, and Katie feared for Joe’s safety. As her senses returned, Katie clambered to her feet and grabbed the shotgun. She cocked it and placed the end of the barrel against the back of Edward’s head.
    “Give me a reason, you son of a whore!” she screamed. “Give me a damned good reason not to kill you right now!”
    Edward froze as Joe broke free and got to his feet. He stepped around her and gently took the shotgun from her trembling hands. He’d have a darned good shiner by nightfall, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, but he didn’t look nearly as bad off as Dorchester.
    “Go outside, Katie,” Joe softly said. “Go help Shelby get the sheriff.”
    She started to comply, but when she read the blackness in his expression, she knew if she stepped through that door that Joe would kill the man.
    She couldn’t let him do that no matter how much Dorchester deserved it. She grabbed a kerchief from her pocket, wet the corner with spit, and dabbed at the blood on his mouth. “I can’t do that. I can’t leave you.” Something about his gaze terrified her. This was more than about what he’d witnessed, she’d swear it. “I