Free The Sextet Presents… By Male Order [In Days of Olde] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Elizabeth Raines Page B

hugged herself. Abe was a tall man, and he used that height the same way Billy always liked to—by leaning over her. She wanted to resist his intimidation, but it was hard. She felt so small, so defenseless.
    The worry was shoved aside. She might be tiny, but she was strong.
    Hope straightened her spine and met his glare. “You shouldn’t have been trying to come inside my home uninvited. Then the door wouldn’t have hit you—or your nose.”
    Abe set his hands on his hips. “You owe me an apology.”
    “You owe me an explanation. State your business then go.”
    His gaze wandered the porch and yard before settling on the scorched grass. “You had a fire. Looks like you stopped it early. Could’ve taken your barn. Maybe even the house. Then where would you be?”
    The lack of concern in his voice raised her ire. “It was merely a nuisance born of the dry spell. We put it out before it got anywhere near my barn or house.”
    “We?” He looked to the barn and frowned. “Where are your farmhands?”
    Her face flushed hot, and before she could stop herself, she glanced back at the door.
    “They’re in your house?” His voice had a hard edge.
    “That’s none of your affair. Tell why you’re here or leave. I have work to do.”
    The moment the eruption began, Hope instinctively took a big step back. Abe’s face turned red as a beet, and he sputtered in anger as he snatched the hat from his head and slammed it to the porch. “I’m damn sick and tired of you putting me off, Hope!”
    “And I tire of you trying to force me into selling you my farm.”
    “I’m offering marriage, damn it. Maybe if you married me, you could save your reputation.” He tried to look around her at the screen door. “Living in sin with two men? What in the hell are you thinking, woman?”
    Hope had known there was talk, but she’d ignored those worries. What she did was between her and God and not fodder for the gossip mill.
    Would He understand what had happened between her, Alec, and Thomas?
    She didn’t have time to ponder that at the moment. “I’m thinking that I can live my life as I see fit.”
    “You need me!” Abe insisted, his face ruddy with anger.
    “Ye’re wrong,” Alec said, stepping out onto the porch with Thomas right behind. “She doesnae need anyone, save herself.”
    Abe’s eyes narrowed, and his hands fisted. “I knew it! I knew everyone was right! You’re a whore, Hope Adams! Nothing but a common whore!”
    With a ferocious growl, Alec swung at Abe, landing a solid punch to his nose that was followed by a sickening crunch. Abe stumbled back until he hit the porch stairs, then he tumbled down them, landing in a heap in the dust. Blood was already trickling from his nostrils, and his nose had shifted, taking on a funny angle.
    “Get off my land,” Hope said, putting her arm out to stop Alec from leaving the porch. “Get off my land and don’t you ever come back.”
    Wiping the back of his hand under his bloody nose, Abe slowly got to his feet, faltering a bit as though he were dizzy. It took him two tries to mount his stallion. As he reined the horse around, he shot Hope one last glower. “This ain’t over, Hope.”
    “Yes, Abe, it is.”
     
    Thomas’s stomach had tied itself in nervous knots. Had Alec not stepped up to defend Hope, he would have. Fighting wasn’t easy for him, and he’d discovered at an early age it was better to walk away than to use his fists. But the moment Abe had slurred Hope, Thomas had been ready to act. Once Alec took a swing, Thomas swallowed his own anger. Alec was a damned fine fighter, and he hadn’t disappointed, delivering a blow that Abe Driscoll wouldn’t easily forget.
    Hope didn’t say a word, although her face was full of emotion. Fear. Anger. She strode into the house, and Thomas followed, glad that Alec did as well.
    She stopped at the hearth, her back to them and her arms wrapped around her waist again as if she could comfort herself. Her head hung