Chapter Twenty

A s Caleb came into the room, Brad tossed down his mail on the desk, leaving one particular, irritating note on the top. It was two days after Christmas, and except for an occasional giggle from Charlie and Lucy, the house was quiet and back to normal.

"Why the scowl?"

"What are you doing here? I thought you and your pack of rapscallions had gone home."

Caleb handed him a note. "Did you get one of these?"

Brad huffed a breath. "Yeah. What do you think?"

"I think Belinda is holding a New Year's Eve ball to try to get her clutches in you."

"Fat chance."

"You know she wants this property back. The only way she is going to get it is by either marrying you or getting rid of you."

"Yeah. The thought crossed my mind. I have to be careful when I ride into town. How she knows when I'll be there is beyond me. But I have a hunch."

"About what? Do you know something I don't?"

Brad shrugged. "Maybe. When I was in town last week, I saw her sitting in Smith's Restaurant with a man. If you ask me, they were a bit cozy."

"Did you recognize him?"

"Although he seemed familiar, I couldn't place him." He shook his head. "But there was something about him setting me on edge. Are you and Colleen going to attend the ball?"

"I think so. You and Libby need to go, too."

"Libby's name isn't on the invitation."

"Too bad. I have this gut feeling there is something going on. I'm going to call in a few men to keep an eye on her."

Brad tapped the invitation. "Do you think it has anything to do with the counterfeiting?"

"I don't know. But for someone who has lost everything, she sure is living the high life. How can she afford to buy her house and hold a ball? Where is she getting her money?"

"The man you saw her with?"

"Possibly." Caleb put the invitation in his inside coat pocket. "Do you think Libby will mind going to a ball?"

"A ball? Did you say something about attending a ball?"

Libby stood in the doorway looking as fetching in her simple yellow blouse tucked into a blue skirt as a woman all decked on in her best finery. His heart skipped a beat. "I got an invitation from Belinda Carlisle for a New Year's Eve ball."

"Are you going?"

Brad couldn't help grinning at how she narrowed her eyes. Jealousy? "Not without you, I'm not."

"But I won't know anyone."

Caleb eyed them. "Colleen and I are going, so you can visit with us."

"I don't know how to do your dances."

Caleb folded his arms over his chest. "And what type of dances would those be? What dances do you do in your time?"

Was Caleb hinting he believed her, or was he simply being as ass?

"There are so many different ones, I couldn't begin to tell you them all. I can do the slow dance, polka, two step, but not much else."

"Polka I recognize." Would they have time to teach her other ones? What about the quadrille? The country dance? "I guess we'll have to practice every day. Would Colleen be able to come over and help us?" He'd need a buffer between him and Libby. Holding her close would be a problem. Not so much the quadrilles and other square dances, but the waltz.

"I believe she could get away. I'll ask her. When do you want to start?"

"If I'm to be believed that I know what I'm doing, as soon as possible."

Caleb sent a sly grin at Brad. "Maybe you two could start with the waltz. I'll send Colleen over tomorrow."

He knew darn well what he was up to. Could he stick his tongue out at his brother? "But who will be her partner? We need at least four dancers."

Caleb let out an exaggerated sigh. "I suppose I could dance with my wife if I had to."

"You'd better not let Colleen hear you say it like that."

"You're not going to tell her, are you, Bradley John?"

Brad chuckled. "Of course not."

"Don't you enjoy dancing, Caleb?"

"Of course I do. Especially with my lovely wife. We were referring to our mother forcing us to dance with girls at a time when we thought all girls were disgusting."

Libby giggled. "Guess things haven't changed."

Brad raised an eyebrow. "Boys still think girls are horrible until they realize they have better attributes? Girls think the same about boys?"

"Yep."

"I'd better let Colleen know what's going on." Caleb chuckled. "And I'll have my men keep an eye on things."

When his brother was gone, Libby crossed her arms and stared at Brad.

"What?"

"I want to know what's going on. I heard a bit of your discussion. Something about counterfeiting. Watching out for things."

"I don't want you involved."

"Since my children and I are living here, if there is any type of danger, I should know about it. Be able to take precautions."

Brad raked his fingers through his hair and huffed out a breath. "You're right. Caleb and I have been asked to help find some counterfeiters working in the area."

"By whom?"

"By the Secret Service. Since the end of the war, at least a third of money printed has been fake and is causing instability in the country's finances. We're concerned a lot of it is taking place in our area."

"What does that have to do with this Belinda's ball?"

"As you know, this farm used to belong to Belinda's family. After her father passed, she was more interested in dances and buying fancy doodads than running the farm. Eventually, she sold off her slaves, and I bought the land. She barely had enough to pay off her creditors."

Libby bit her bottom lip. "Let me guess. She's been trying to get you to marry her so she can have access to your money."

"I knew you were a smart woman. Every time I go into town or church, I have to keep a constant watch out for her. Once I even caught her heading upstairs."

"I'm sure she heard about the woman staying here and wanted to find out about me."

Brad nodded. "Or to warn you off."

"So, what does this have to do with the ball?"

"She's broke. I know she's broke." Brad rubbed the back of his neck. "So where did she get the money to put on a ball? I know it's another ploy to get me into her bed so I have to marry her."

"Do you want to marry her?"

"Hell, I mean, heck no!" Brad paced in front of the fireplace. "For one thing, she's not my type. For another, she'd bleed me dry within a year. Possibly less. And I don't only mean financially. She has a way of making a man feel inferior, while at the same time pretending to make him feel as if he were ten feet tall."

"So, you and Caleb believe she might be making fake money?"

Brad chuckled. "She doesn't have the brains to do it on her own. She has to have some accomplices. The other day I saw her with another man in a restaurant in town. They seemed pretty cozy. And how could she afford to buy the mansion in town?"

"I don't see the problem. At least she's not bothering you."

"True. I thought I recognized him, but I couldn't figure out from where. When I looked at him, I had flashes of the war, so it might have been from then."

"Was it something good?"

Brad shook his head. "No. I just wish I could recall."

"Maybe you're trying too hard."

"And maybe being at the ball will trigger something."

Libby tipped her head to the side. "So, I heard you say my name wasn't on the invitation. Do you think it's a good idea for me to show up?"

"You'll be arriving on my arm, so no one will dare question it. Besides Belinda, no one will know you weren't invited, and I need someone to protect me from the woman."

"And how do you expect me to do that?"

"Don't leave me alone or Belinda will latch onto me like a leech and won't let me go."

Libby giggled then huffed a deep sigh. "I guess I'll have to protect you at all costs. What an awful way to spend an evening."

"You're a smart aleck, aren't you?"

"So, I've been told." She stood, stopped before him, and ran a finger down his lapel. "So, when do we start the dancing lessons?"

Holding Libby in his arms and teaching her the steps? His arm around her waist? Maybe her breasts pressed against his chest? Not soon enough. "Tonight."