Douglas also felt it necessary to defend the eldest brother's motives. "We don't want you getting the idea Adam isn't manly. He can hold his own in any fight. Can't he, Cole?"

"Damned right he can. What do you think about that,

MacDonald?"

Harrison didn't even try to be diplomatic with his answer. "I think the two of you are crazy." He figured they had to realize they were out of their minds because they held such stupid prejudices. Any kind of prejudice was just plain ignorant, and in Harrison 's estimation, it was also completely unreasonable and illogical. Therefore, it was crazy.

Douglas turned bright red in response to Harrison 's opinion. Cole kept his reaction hidden. Harrison gave up on the two. He tried to walk past them and go outside to get some fresh air. He was thoroughly disgusted.

Cole blocked his path. Douglas nudged him out of the way. "Don't hit him yet," he told his brother. "I want to ask him something."

"Why do you think we're crazy?" He sounded bewildered.

"You both believe that only women should be allowed to play the piano, isn't that right?"

Neither brother answered. Harrison shook his head. "Your attitude is both ludicrous and completely illogical. Adam is an accomplished man," he continued. "It's to his credit that he is so well-educated."

He turned his full attention to Cole. "You, on the other hand…"

Douglas interrupted him before he could finish.

"I don't want any roughhousing in my barns," he announced. "The horses get riled up. Cole, I don't see why Harrison can't help with the mustangs."

"I'm certain I'm capable enough," Harrison interjected. "It can't be all that difficult, and it sure as hell can't require much intelligence."

"Why do you say that?" Douglas asked.

Harrison smiled. "Cole does it, doesn't he?"

It took a second or two for the insult to register. Harrison patiently waited. He expected Cole to either go for his gun or use his fist. He was prepared for either reaction.

Cole's eyes widened. He took a step back, shook his head, and then burst into laughter.

Harrison was severely disappointed. He wanted to fight.

"You're an easy man to like, Harrison," Cole told him. "Honest to God, you are."

"Next time you go through my things, I'll shoot you."

Cole looked surprised. "You heard me last night?"

"Damned right I did."

"You're getting sloppy, Cole."

"I guess I am. I didn't think I made a sound."

"Exactly what were you looking for?" Harrison asked.

"Nothing really," Cole replied. "I was just curious."

Douglas rushed to explain. "You should understand his curiosity," he said. "It was difficult for us to believe you couldn't fend for yourself, as big as you are. Of course, once you mentioned you played the piano, I understood how it was."

"Exactly how was it?"

"You know… with your father sick and all… Cole, you shouldn't have gone through his things. It wasn't hospitable."

"You told me to," Cole reminded his brother.

Douglas couldn't remember making such a suggestion. The two brothers got into a rather heated argument. One thing led to another, and before long they were arguing about something that had happened years ago. If Harrison had been standing close to a wall, he was certain he would have started slamming his head into it by now. The Clayborne men were making him crazy.

He decided to take control of the conversation. "I can fend for myself," he snapped, forcing the two of them to leave their childhood grudges behind. "I do want to learn about ranching, but you two don't have to waste your time teaching me how to fight or shoot. If you'll step outside, I'll be happy to prove it."

Cole laughed. "How are you going to prove it? Shoot us?"

Harrison shook his head. "The idea does have merit," he admitted. "However, I've decided I'll just beat the hell out of the two of you."

Douglas gave him a pitying look. "Not knowing how to defend yourself isn't anything to be ashamed of, Harrison. We'll teach you what you need to know. I'm happy to see you've got a temper though. You'll have to be a little hotheaded if you want to get along with people."

"That's ridiculous."

"Maybe," Cole agreed. "But it's also the way it is around here. You want some respect or don't you?"

Harrison gave up trying to reason with the mule-headed men. He knew he was responsible for planting the misconception in their heads that he was inept. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Mary Rose took weaklings in, and so he pretended to be just that.

It suddenly dawned on him that he was being as illogical as the brothers. He was getting exactly what he wanted. He should have been pleased.

He wasn't though. And all because he didn't want Mary Rose to think he was weak.

What in thunder was the matter with him? Harrison left the brothers and went to the house. He forced himself to concentrate on the real reason he had traveled all the way to Montana. Lady Victoria. He didn't have any doubts left. Mary Rose had to be Lord Elliott's long-lost daughter.

He wished he could just pick her up, toss her over MacHugh's able back, and drag her back to England where she belonged. There were, however, several giant obstacles barring his path. First, he had to find the mastermind behind the kidnapping. Until the culprit or culprits were found, the Elliott family wasn't safe.

The other obstacles standing in the way of reuniting the grieving father with his daughter were the Clayborne brothers.

Damn it all, he wished he didn't like them. Even Cole was beginning to make him smile with his ridiculous notions about life. All the brothers' obvious love for their little sister was something he had to admire. And respect. And so was their loyalty to one another.

None of them was going to let her go without putting up a fight. And just what the hell was he going to do about that?

Harrison didn't believe Mary Rose would prove to be too much of a problem. She wouldn't fight the inevitable; at least, he didn't think she would. Granted, she wanted to stay in her valley for the rest of her life, but he knew her feelings would change when she found out she had a father waiting for her back in England. She was simply too kindhearted not to go and at least meet the man. Getting her to stay in London would be her father's problem. Harrison 's work would be done.

He quit mulling the matter over in his mind, picked up his step, and was just about to turn the corner so he could go directly into the kitchen from the back door, when he spotted Mary Rose hurrying in the opposite direction. She was headed toward the smaller barn, and from the indirect path she was taking, it didn't take him long to realize she didn't want to be noticed by anyone. She carried a brown wicker basket with a rounded handle looped over her arm.

"Good morning, Harrison," Travis said from behind.

Harrison turned around. "Morning," he replied. "Where's your sister going? She seems to be in quite a hurry."

Travis smiled. "She's sneaking off. I know where she's headed though. I'm going to give her a couple of minutes, then follow her. Adam's going to be angry when he finds out."

"Finds out what?"

"Mary Rose is paying a call on Crazy Cornelia."

"Is she the woman who survived the Indian attack?"

"You already heard about her?"

"Your sister mentioned her last night."

"Corrie's the one, all right. Word has it she's crazy as a loon. Guess if you got scalped, you would be too. Even the Indians stay away from her now. They're afraid of her. So are most of the people in Blue Belle. They're talking about burning her out."

"Burning her out of what?"

"Her cabin," Travis explained. "A trapper thought the place was deserted. She almost blew his head off with her shotgun when he tried to get near the door. Corrie's been holed up there since the attack, and that was over fifteen years ago. Anyway, now that Mary Rose knows about her, she's determined to pay a visit. She thinks the woman could use a friend. Adam told her she couldn't go. He said it was too dangerous. No telling what the woman will do. I knew Mary Rose wouldn't listen though. She never does. There she goes now. Honest to God, Adam's going to kill her."

Travis took off at a trot. "Tell my brothers where I'm going, all right?" he called over his shoulder.

The brother was armed for trouble. Harrison was pleased to know that all the Clayborne men watched out for their little sister.

He heard Travis mutter something about being damned tired of being inconvenienced, and found himself smiling in reaction.

It was the last moment of joy he experienced for a long, long while.

Breaking in mustangs wasn't difficult. It was impossible. Harrison didn't get the knack of it for a full week, and during the days in between, he suffered one indignity after another. He was black and blue everywhere. His humiliation was just as painful for him. He spent more time on his backside and shoulders in the dirt than on his feet and, in general, provided a vast amount of entertainment for the Clayborne family.

Cole's timing was superb. No matter what task he was involved in, he always happened to be near the corral whenever Harrison went flying off the saddle. The brother always reacted the same way. First he would give an exaggerated wince for Harrison 's benefit, then shake his head and say, "That's going to hurt." Laughter inevitably followed.

Harrison wanted to kill Cole, of course. Going after him would have required strength, however, and he simply didn't have any to spare.

He couldn't make up his mind which time of day was worse. In the evenings, his entire body throbbed in agony, and in the mornings he felt as if rigor mortis had set in. He walked around like an old, bowlegged man. Honest to God, he even groaned like one.

Mary Rose came to the bunkhouse late one evening, but fortunately he still had his pants on. He'd gotten his torn shirt off, then collapsed onto the bed, facedown. He didn't even lift his head up when she walked inside.

"Oh, Harrison, your back is a mess," she whispered. She sat down on the side of the bed and gently patted him. "Adam sent some liniment to soothe your muscles. Would you like me to put some on your shoulders?"

He needed it on his backside, but he knew it wouldn't be proper for him to ask.

"Thank you."

"You're all tuckered out, aren't you?" she asked.

He didn't answer her. Mary Rose opened the bottle and poured some of the cold liquid on his back. Then she started to massage the aches away. She wrinkled her nose in reaction to the scent and hoped Harrison wouldn't notice.

"What in God's name is that stench?"

He looked toward the open doorway, thinking the odor must have been coming from outside.

"It's the liniment," she explained.

"God, it's foul."

"The horses seem to like it."

He lifted his head. "You use this stuff on your horses?"

She pushed his head back down on the pillow. "It's all right to use on people too. The smell will fade in a minute. Try to relax. Let me work the liniment into your muscles. You're going to feel better in no time at all."

He didn't believe her. His backside was still going to ache. "Leave the bottle," he suggested. "If the liniment works, I'll put some on my… leg."

"All right," she promised. "Close your eyes and try to rest."

Five minutes later, he thought he'd died. Her hands were magical against his skin. His muscles were soothed, but he wasn't the least bit aroused by her closeness or her touch, and in his mind, that could only mean he was already dead.

He groaned with pleasure so she wouldn't stop soothing him.

She thought he had fallen asleep. His face was turned toward the doorway. He looked peaceful to her, and ruggedly handsome. His hair had fallen down to cover his forehead. There was a day's growth of a beard, a shadow really, and she was suddenly filled with curiosity to know what it felt like. She felt safe enough because he was sound asleep and wouldn't know how brazen she was being. She touched his forehead first, then grew a little bolder. She noticed a bruise on the side of his temple and slowly circled it with the tips of her fingers. His skin was smooth and warm to her touch.

She grew bolder and traced the profile of his perfectly formed nose and cheekbone. She trailed her fingers down the side of his face to his neck. The bristles from his growth tickled her. She wanted to touch his mouth, gave into her urge almost immediately, and slowly explored it just as fleetingly with her fingertips.