Ten hats, a dozen feathers, and too many ribbons and bows to keep track of passed by, taking Kristen into a silence edged thick with irritation. She cursed herself more than once for allowing a strange man she'd known less than an hour, to just ride off with her little brother. Panic swelled within her as she pinned and stitched yet another feather to the blue velvet hat.

America meant security and protection for them, but did that give her any right to completely surrender her common sense and abandon her little brother to a stranger? The ticking of the wall clock sounded like a death march, counting off the seconds. Four hours had passed since Shay Sinclair had ridden away with Sean. Four hours of worrying and wondering if her brother was alright, wondering if this wonderfully handsome piece of art was actuality, one of the Baron's henchmen, only to dismiss the idea time after time.

It was too soon; there was no way he could have found them this fast. After all, she herself had just arrived in town the night before, and she hadn’t planned on coming to this desolate area in the first place. It was fate; a name on the board at the train station where it stopped. How could her step-father predict where they would stop and who they would meet?

No, the idea was absurd, but that didn't ease the feeling of guilt ripping her delicate soul apart. Bloody hell, she had allowed a stranger to ride off with her brother!

Sean was too shy by far and too deeply withdrawn to stick up for his rights. What if Shay had tried to put too much on him his first time out? What if he asked the boy questions, he wouldn't - couldn't - answer? Would Shay lose his temper and strike the boy for not speaking up? Would he be tempted to speak with the local constable? Would they ask questions, or try contacting their family? Surely by now, all of Ireland knew they were missing. Did that also mean Uncle Charles knew as well? Was he helping in the search, and if so, did he know what the Baron had done, or what he was capable of?

So many questions raced through her mind, causing her to poke her finger for the hundredth time. She sucked the small drop of blood from her thumb, glancing out the front window to the street beyond. Horses passed by one after another, some pulling carriages and wagons, others being ridden with a single master. Ladies with expensive dresses strolled on the arms of elegantly dressed men, while children ran and laughed and played as they hurried home after their day's lessons at the local school.

The world seemed to pass by the small shop at a steady pace, bringing everyone in town by the storefront. Everyone except her little brother and the strangely exciting man who had whisked him away.

Hattie busied herself in the backroom stacking boxes of newly arrived silks and fabrics. Every now and again she'd call from behind the curtain, asking if everything was alright. Kristen would smile to herself calling out her answer. It reminded her of the times her mother would call to her from the sitting room as she played outside on the veranda.

What would her mother think of her now, she wondered? Would she be angry with her for running away, or would she understand and forgive her? Would she be worried about them and where they were? At least one thing was for certain, the Baron wasn't concerned by their absence. No doubt he was knee-high in his whiskey and whores to even notice.

Thoughts filled her mind and conscience, distracting her so much from her surroundings she hadn't noticed the black steed that stopped in front of the store. The tinkling of the small bell above the door made her jump, dropping her work to the carpeted floor at her feet. Sean ran into the small shop, his face pink from the sun and his eyes shining with excitement. He looked so happy she nearly cried. It had been years since she'd seen this kind of reaction from the boy.

"Hope we didn't keep you waiting?" Shay said, closing the door behind them.

Kristen accepted the hug her little brother offered, relief and joy filling the spaces despair and fear had occupied since early that afternoon.

"Not at al’," she lied, glancing at the clock. Four-thirty, half past tea time.

"Two visits in one day," Hattie said, stepping through the thick curtains. "I do declare Travis, I feel like royalty." Shay hugged the woman and chuckled.

"Would you be offended if I told you I hadn't come to see you?" he asked softly.

"Terribly. What other reason would you possibly have for coming here?"

She was thrilled knowing the sudden attraction the man had for visiting a woman's dress shop. She had spent nearly twelve years trying to find the right woman to marry the young man, only to have her land on her very doorstep.

Kristen was so busy talking to her brother, she hadn't noticed the whispering going on behind her. She brushed the dust from the boy's jacket and smoothed his tousled hair. He looked like the perfect picture of health and happiness. A look he should have sported all along.

"I hope Hattie hasn't been working you too hard?" Shay said, feeling a sudden lump form in his throat as he saw a tear escape the young woman's violet eyes.

Kristen brushed it away with such grace, one might have thought she was swatting a fly from in front of her nose.

"Ah’ve enjoyed meself, terribly, though Oi’m not at al’ certain if Ah’ve done me work roi."

Hattie stepped up beside her new apprentice and began to inspect the hats she had sewed. Four were exactly as she had instructed, but two-a red satin and the blue velvet she'd been working on when Shay and Sean arrived - were unique, to say the least. Kristen had pinned three bright yellow ribbons to the red satin, along with a matching three-inch bow. She topped it off with a small bouquet of dried red pansies, on the left side.

It wasn't what Hattie had wanted, but it was nevertheless quite lovely. The blue one was even more so. Kristen had tied several thin ribbons of red, white, gold, and purple around the base of the velvet. Like the red one, she had decorated it with several dried bouquets of pansies and added just a touch of white knitted lace to bring out the color of the flowers. Hattie wasn't certain what to say. They were so different she wasn't sure if Butte Montana was ready for such boldness.

"Well..." she began, fingering the pansies of the blue hat. “They're...different. I mean they're beautiful, but I'm just not sure if they're what I had in mind."

"Oi’m sorry," Kristen said, her head lowered slightly at what she took to be a reprimand.

Her eyes clouded with unshed tears and she quickly blinked them away with Irish pride. Determination forced her to square her shoulders and lift her head high.

"Ah’ll pay for de materials Ah’ve used," she began after a moment. "Oi’m sorry ter ‘av wasted yer time."

Kristen stood quickly taking Sean by the hand and walked toward the front door. Well, tomorrow she'd look for another job and this time, she'd make certain not to go against her employer's wishes. Perhaps she could secure work at the hotel. After all, she'd watched her own maid clean and change her room often enough to give it an honest try.

"Wait a minute," Hattie argued, hurrying toward the departing young woman. "I never said I didn't like them. I merely find them...unique, and I won't hear of you paying for a thing. If these don't sell, then at least the others will, and it will be interesting to see how they go over."

Hattie hurried to the window and removed two hats from the stands they occupied. She placed the red hat nearest to the front of the window, and the blue just behind. Both took center stage, like two lovely doves set in a gilded cage.

"There, I think that will do nicely," Hattie insisted, stepping back to view the rear of the window.

"Yer mean Oi’m not let go?" Kristen asked hesitantly; confused by the woman's reaction.

"Good Lord, who said anything about letting you go? There's not a chance in heaven I could have put out so many hats, in two weeks’ time. Now, tomorrow I'll have you working on the masks for the ball. I have no idea how I'm going to get all this work out of the way in time to meet my demands. You must stay and help, please."

"Aye, if yer sure Ah’ll be av any ‘elp?"

Kristen felt a sudden weight lift from her shoulders and had to force herself from jumping high and doing a jig right there in the middle of the dress shop.

"What a thing to say. Of course, you'll be of use. Now, enough of all that, you've worked hard enough for one day. You go ahead on home and I'll see you back here at eight o'clock tomorrow morning."

Kristen smiled appreciatively at the woman before turning and leaving the shop. She hadn't felt this happy since…she didn't know when.

"Don't let Hattie frighten you,” Shay told her. “She's more than eager to try something new, especially if it means she can get a couple of bucks for it."

Kristen glanced at the man as he kept in step with her. She had completely forgotten about him and felt the color sting her cheeks. She supposed he was waiting for a word of thanks for entertaining Sean all day.

"She doesn't frighten me, but Ah’ll try an’ keep yer advice in mind."

Go on, she told herself, thank him and be done with him. You haven't the time in your life for any distractions, especially his sort.

"Oi’d loike ter say tanks," she began, her tone soft and shy. "Oi don't tink Oi cud ‘av gotten de job if yer ‘adn't persuaded ‘Attie into ‘irin me."

"My pleasure, Miss O’Malley."

Shay was delighted to be of help. He only hoped she would find a few more reasons to call on his aid.

"Oi’d also loike ter tank yer for keepin’ me brah’der company. ‘Tis been a long time since Sean's ‘as ‘ad anybody...dat is...Oi ‘ope ‘e wasn't too much av a ‘assle?"

"He was great and there's no need to thank me. In fact, I was hoping you'd consider letting me take him again. He was a lot of help out at my ranch."

"’E wus?" Kristen couldn't help the surprise erupting in her voice.

"Sure. I didn't realize how much company a small boy could be to have around, much less how much work one could do. He really helped me out."

Kristen stopped dead in her tracks. How could her little brother possibly be of any help to a man twice the size of Baron Andrews and quite possibly as strong as two workhorses? It just seemed impossible to believe.

"You will let him come with me again, won't you?"

His question was soft and spoke of a much deeper meaning, but she couldn't even begin to understand the reason behind it. Kristen glanced down at Sean who was tugging at her skirts and nodding anxiously. He had been a party to so much fear in his young life, perhaps it was time for a little happiness. At the very least she could hope for was that he would start talking again.

"If yer sure ‘e won't be in de way?"

She hesitated in answering, trying to put some sort of control to her nervous voice.

"Then it's settled and just to show you how friendly Montana can be, I'll take you to supper to welcome you to town."

"Tanks but it isn’t necessary," she began, mentally calculating how much a big dinner would set them back.

"I insist. There's a little place not far from your hotel and I promise to see you safely home afterward. Come on," he insisted, offering her the smile that had made him famous. "My treat," he added as Sean began to grunt softly beside his sister, causing a brief look of surprise from the woman. It was the closest thing to a word he had come to in seven years.

"Oi guess Oi ‘av naw choice."

Anything was worth hearing sound from her little brother. Even if it meant sleeping in Hattie's storeroom for the next month.

Shay held the chair out for Kristen who accepted it with all the grace and elegance of Queen Victoria. She was thankful she remembered her formal education and knew how to act appropriately in public. Even Sean, as young as he was, knew how to behave in front of strangers, although she could see the effort it took for him not to run and hide.

The waiter brought out a large platter filled with fried chicken and potatoes. Another held green beans and creamed corn, while a third was placed in front of them with three small loaves of bread. Two small bowls were placed on the large round table, one with freshly churned butter, the other with gravy made from the cracklings of the fried chicken. Kristen stared at the heavy-set man with wide eyes but didn't say anything beyond a courteous thank y'. Shay chuckled softly at her expression as she inspected the man with curious wonder.

The man - Shay called Mitch - wasn't quite as tall as Shay, yet much larger in stature than her handsome companion. He was about forty-five years of age, slightly bald with what hair remained, gray with age. He wore an apron that had at one time been white, now stained a rainbow of colors from the many meals cooked while being worn. He was a gruff looking man yet smiled often and could be heard laughing from time to time as he made his way around the room, listening to the praises of his cooking and joking with those he knew more intimately.

Kristen sighed as she turned her inspection from the man to the table in front of her. Everything looked delicious and smelled like heaven. After weeks of eating only what they could afford, it was a pleasure to splurge extravagantly again. Even if the meal was oddly served for a restaurant.

Kristen hadn't been to many eating establishments in her lifetime, yet she knew the way they had been served was out of the normal as far as routine dining was concerned. In fact, Mitch made a big deal of serving all his customers the same way, as though they were family in his own home, rather than guests in his business. He served each table the same meal, with no variation, yet it didn’t seem as though anyone was complaining.

Shay shook his head in amazement as he watched Sean devour his meal. The boy had the appetite of two grown men, rather than one small child. He ate four pieces of chicken and a full plate of potatoes and gravy but passed on the beans with a wrinkle to his nose and a sniff of disapproval. He had three helpings of bread with butter and held his empty milk glass out for a third refill.

Sean hadn't said a single word all day, yet somehow, he felt as though the boy was speaking in volumes. Kristen, however, held most of Shay's attention. She ate barely enough to fill a child of four yet insisted on refilling her brother's plate time and again. It was strange, but Shay was certain she would surrender her own virtue if it meant protecting her younger sibling. A prospect that was far from unappealing.

With the meal gone and the table cleared, Shay ordered coffee for himself and Kristen, and another glass of milk for Sean. When Mitch returned with their drinks, he placed a large peach pie in the middle of the table and began to slice it. Kristen looked embarrassed at the portions and tried to hide the blush behind her coffee cup.

"You don't have to eat it if you don't want to," Shay insisted once their host had left. "Mitch Graham believes everyone eats the way he does. His food's expensive and he makes enough to supply General Grant's army, but it’s filling and well worth the price. In fact, it's the best place in town. Everybody eats here whenever they can afford it. It's especially popular with the cowhands."

"An’ wi’ me brah’der as well," Kristen teased.

She edged her plate aside and looked at the boy who was eagerly stuffing his mouth full of the sticky, sweet pie. Shay chuckled as the boy quickly cleaned his plate, then pushed it aside and reached for his sister's.

Kristen's face burned as she watched her brother’s embarrassing appetite takes control of his actions. He ate as though he'd never had solid food before. She smiled with pride at the slight change in stature and glanced up to find herself looking into warm brown eyes.

She had been trying to avoid looking at Shay all evening but felt his intent stare since the moment they sat down. She didn't have much experience with men, though she knew enough to know what a man wanted when he became interested. Those thoughts made her cheeks burn hot.

Trying to distract her attention from the man’s eyes, she began to look around the room. It was simple surroundings, several tables set up with four chairs, each with red and white checked table cloths. Matching curtains hung across the windows while six large wagon wheels filled with glowing candles hung from the ceiling. The room was warm and comfortable, like sitting in her great aunt's cozy sitting room back in Ireland. There were several patrons, many appeared to be cowhands exactly as Shay had described. There were two tables with young men, intent on impressing the young women who sat opposite them. For being a weeknight, the place was busy, busier in fact than Kristen had expected.

The voices buzzed softly around her like the sound of bees in the near distance. Kristen tried not to listen, but the conversation between the two older women at the table directly behind them caught her attention and she knew who they were talking about.

"Do you think it's his latest conquest?" one woman asked.

"I thought he was serious about Caroline Baker?" the other stated.

"Only when it suits his fancy. Shay Sinclair is hardly the sort to settle down with anyone."

"I still wouldn't want to be her if Caroline finds out he's been sneaking around behind her back."

"As if Caroline Baker's taken a vow of celibacy. Do you know who she is?"

"Never seen her before. She's obviously new around here."

"Probably one of Millie's girls, if you ask me."

"Not with a boy, she isn't. I can't imagine Shay being involved with someone of her caliber. Having a child at her age, what is this world coming too?"

Kristen listened to all she could handle and was determined to take leave of this man before any further gossip could develop. If she had to remain in Montana, it wouldn't do to have unfavorable gossip following her about. She had Sean's reputation to consider, after all.

"Oi tink we ‘ad better be ‘eadin’ nigh," Kristen insisted, eager to make her escape.

"So soon?” Shay asked with a frown as he glanced up at the clock ticking on the wall beside the door.

“Oi’m sorry but me brah’der ‘as ‘ad a long day, an’ ‘tis best ‘e gets sum sleep. You’ve kept ‘imself very busy t’day.”

“It's still early, why don't we go for a ride before I see you home?"

Shay didn't want to take his leave of her just yet. He had every intention of getting to know Kristen better, regardless of what the local gossips thought. He knew Kristen had overheard the old biddies behind her, but it was time the town knew Caroline Baker was far from being his keeper.

“Tanks, but Oi must decline. Ah’ve got ter be at ‘Attie’s in de mornin’ an’ Oi don’t want ter be late.”

"If you insist,"

"Aye."

"I'll see you back to your hotel then," Shay told her, laying several silver dollars on the table and standing up.

"Dat won't be necessary," she insisted, feeling the color rise to her cheeks again, knowing the town's gossips were intent on listening and watching everything they did.

"My turn to insist," Shay said, holding the chair out for her.

Kristen stood, took her brother's hand, and smiled politely at the man.

"Tanks for supper, Mr. Sinclair, but Oi ken assure yer, Oi ken take care av meself an’ me brah’der, withoyt any further aide."

"You haven't been in town long enough to know what might happen to an unescorted woman at night, especially one as beautiful as yourself," he warned softly. "There are too many men in town right now for any woman to be safe. Trust me. It's best I see you back to the hotel."

Kristen glanced back to the women at the table, still whispering. What would they have to say if she didn't accept the man's offer? Logic began to filter through her Irish stubbornness, knowing Shay was right. With Sean close at her side, Kristen squared her shoulders and raised her chin.

"Den Oi I accept yer offer Mr. Sinclair, an’ Oi tank yer for yer concern."

Shay bowed like the obedient servant offering her his arm and casually strolling out the door. They walked in silence back to the hotel, nodding at several passersby while her arm remained securely tucked inside his. It was as though he had offered her a life raft in the middle of an untamed ocean, rather than an escort home. He was strong and powerful and being by his side gave her the feeling of security. Something she hadn't felt since before her mother had died.

"Dare certainly are lashings av people aboyt," she said, eager to stop this uneasy thumping of her heart.

“Lashings?” he asked with an amused frown.

“Um…a lot…”

“Oh, yes there is. It's planting time. Most of the men are hired hands for the spring and summer work. Come fall it'll be even worse."

"Why is dat?"

"Harvest is a tough time of year for farmers. They have their crops to get in before the first snow. Those who can afford it, hire extra workers. Those who can't struggle alone."

"Ye a farmer too, Mr. Sinclair?"

"Sort of. I don't raise crops like most of the farmers around here do, but I do have a rather large spread just north of town."

"Wat do yer raise if not crops?"

"Cattle mostly. I have a few chickens, some pigs and sheep, and some very fine horseflesh, but it's the beef I count on. After all, the world's in love with steaks."

"Oi suppose dat’s true."

Kristen fell into a silence filled with curiosity. Did Shay have someone waiting along with his cattle for him to return home to? She thought about what those women had said. Caroline Baker didn’t sound like the type to take very kindly to another woman interfering in her man’s life. She quickly pushed the image of a faithful wife aside. Hattie told her he wasn't married so there wasn't anyone sitting alone in the cool of the evening waiting, at least not a young bride, but what about a lover? That was a thought she'd think about later when she was alone and had time to consider what sort of lover this man would want.

"Tanks again," she told him, as they turned the corner of the hotel's lobby.

Shay tried desperately to think of a reason to walk her to her room. The only thing he could come up with was he wanted to make love to her. That, of course, would never have gone over, at least not with this beautiful little blonde. He began to ponder, thinking of the right words to say so he wouldn't offend her.

"Umm," he began, feeling as awkward as a schoolboy on his first date. "I'd be happy to take Sean again tomorrow if you'd like?"

"Oi’m not sure if t’morra is a gran’ idea. Sean ‘asn't been away from me much, an’ Oi tink..." she paused, glancing down at the boy who eagerly tugged at her skirts.

He looked excited and nodded his head hopefully. How could she deny him his one and only occasion of happiness?

"If yer sure ‘e won’t be in de way?" she answered, hoping the man would say he'd offered only to be polite and his sweetheart, whoever she may be, didn't much care for children interfering in their day.

"I love having Sean's company, besides I sort of promised I'd teach him to ride alone."

"Isn't dat fierce?" she asked, trying to settle the sudden jumping in her chest.

“Fierce?” he frowned.

“Dangerous.”

"It's not dangerous at all," Shay said with an amused grin. "That is, so long as he does as he's told. He's a good kid, I don't think there'll be any problems."

"’Tis jist dat…" Kristen hesitated.

Should she confess the boy's past to this man, telling him why he didn't speak? No, she thought, she couldn't deprive Sean of a good friend or risk the authorities trying to contact the Baron.

"What is it, Kristen?" Shay asked, his hands traveling to her elbow.

He could see an array of emotions traveling across her delicate features. What was it she feared? Certainly not him, he'd never do anything to cause a woman to fear him, least of all his Irish Angel. Then what was it? What was she afraid of or...who?

"Tell me what's bothering you? What are you afraid of?"

"Sean ‘asn't been away from me in donkey’s years. Oi’m not sure ‘oy ‘e's gonna react if anythin' were ter ‘appen. ‘E's not loike other boys ‘is age."

"I promise to treat him as though he were my own brother, and I won't let anything happen to him."

"Oi suppose," Kristen smiled reluctantly. "Ah’ll make certain ‘e's ready for yer, Mr. Sinclair."

Perhaps having another man around would do the boy good she thought.

"Thank you, Angel, and stop worrying. I'll guard your brother with my very life if need be," Shay winked a brown eye at the young woman and smiled at the color that rose to her pale cheeks. Thoughts of fear drifted out of Shay's mind as he leaned across Kristen and gently kissed her cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow and thank you for having supper with me." He bent down and lifted Sean's chin in his hand. "Take care of her," he whispered to him. "It's a man's job to protect women, especially mothers and sisters."

Sean smiled and nodded shyly causing Shay to chuckle so softly, Kristen wasn't certain if she'd heard it or not. She smiled her good-night and watched as he left the hotel's lobby. This man was going to be a difficult one to have around, but if it meant Sean's happiness, there was nothing she wouldn't sacrifice for him.

That thought stayed with her as she and Sean prepared for bed. He washed up in the small porcelain bowl then climbed into bed and covered up. She watched as Sean fell into a quick and peaceful sleep, feeling a strange stirring inside her. She wondered exactly how far she would go to give her brother the happiness he deserved. She hadn't given into the Baron and was even willing to risk traveling an entire ocean to avoid his lustful advances. What had happened between then and now, that she would consider surrendering herself to a strange man to make her brother happy?

If Shay Sinclair wanted to have her, would she be able to deny him? Would she even want to? Would he accept her rejection if she made it, or would Sean be the one to suffer his wrath? On the other hand, did Shay even want her? Perhaps there wasn't a faithful wife waiting at home for him, but that didn't mean there wasn't someone special in his life.

Who was this Caroline Baker anyway and what did she mean to him? Then again, perhaps his attention toward Sean and herself was strictly out of courtesy. After all, Americans were a strange lot. Taking Sean and later insisting on buying them supper, may have just been his way of welcoming them to town, just as he had said.

So many questions repeated themselves over and over inside her head, as she climbed beneath the blankets and blew out the lamp. She considered talking to Shay, telling him her feelings, explain to him exactly what she was running from and beg his silence, but she quickly decided against it. The man would be obligated to contact the authorities and she would be incarcerated until the Baron sent for her. Sean would be sent away, and she would no doubt be forced to return to the horror she'd just escaped.

No, she would just have to bide her time and keep a close watch on this man. She only hoped he would be good for her brother, if not herself. She barely knew him, much less well enough to tell her life’s troubles. Though there was something about him that made her think he would understand, help them even. Perhaps it was her attraction to him that made her feel this way. She had never known a man before, never wanted to know one, but this man was different. Strange as it may seem, she felt comfortable and secure with him. A security that may just prove to be her undoing.

Still, it wasn't her own life she was concerned with. Her brother had to grow strong and confident enough to return to Ireland and claim his heritage. After he was of age and they were back home, she would be able to concentrate on her own future, but not until then. She refused to think about her own existence beyond the need to help Sean's cause. It was a dream she had to make come true, no matter what the consequences and sacrifices may be.

Kristen dressed in her only other dress she had managed to pack; a lovely yellow cotton with a low-cut bodice trimmed in pearl beaded lace. She pulled her hair into a tight bun on top of her head and dusted her cheeks lightly to give them the softest hint of color. With her tiny feet hidden inside the new black high heeled walking boots, she felt complete and ready to face another day. She was anxious to get to Hattie's and begin work. She never knew hard work, or how sitting for so many hours in one place, could bring a person so much enjoyment.

As a child, she hated the endless sewing lessons her mother forced her to endure. The needles pricked her fingers so many times, small callouses formed on her thumb and middle finger. Back then it was a task dreaded by an impatient child, and one usually filled with bouts of tears and tantrums.

Now, however, it all seemed to bring her so much pleasure. She enjoyed working for Hattie and she liked to create new and interesting designs.

Six weeks had passed since Hattie hired her on as her apprentice. Kristen had worked her way up from stitching feathers and bows on hats and masks for the ball, to sewing hems in Hattie's prized creations. She had promised that today Kristen could alter three gowns ordered for the upcoming social. Things just couldn’t get much better.

Shay kept his promise and spent every day caring for Sean. He picked them up each morning in front of the hotel and escorted Kristen to Hattie's, then took Sean with him, bringing him home in time for supper.

Sean's whole manner seemed to escalate tremendously since his first day with Shay. He still wasn't talking, but there was a sense of confidence developing within the boy that Kristen had never seen.

That night as Shay walked them back to the hotel, Kristen felt brave enough to explain Sean's silent behavior. She wasn't certain where it would lead, or what the result would be, but she felt she owed him an explanation for all the time and patience he had given her brother.

"Mr. Sinclair," she began, her arm tucked securely in his. "Oi tink Oi shud explain aboyt Sean."

"What's to explain?" he asked with a chuckle, watching as the boy hurried to pet a horse tied outside the general store.

"'’E's not loike other boys."

"That's something I've been meaning to speak with you about," Shay replied, causing Kristen's heart to skip a beat. "Sean's old enough, he shouldn't be dressing like some sort of...what I mean is, if he's going to make friends in this town, he should at least look like the rest of the boys. Knickers may have been acceptable in Ireland, but here in Montana he's out of place."

"Ah’ve been meanin' ter buy ‘imself a pair av long-legged britches, Oi jist ‘aven't ‘ad de time, but dat’s not wat Oi wanted ter explain."

"If it's alright with you," Shay interrupted, "I'd be happy to help him pick out a pair of pants. He'll need a different shirt as well, and a pair of boots wouldn't be such a bad idea. I'll take him to the general store tomorrow and see what we can find."

"Yer don't ‘ave ter do dat. Ah’ll fend time ter take ‘imself meself."

"It's no bother. The truth is, I like the boy. I've never had a little brother and it's been a lot of fun having him follow me around."

"Ye an only wane?" Kristen asked, distracted from her train of thought.

"No, I have a little sister, but she never liked to do the things boys did. Sean's like the brother I've always wanted."

“’E's a gran’ boy," she told him, watching as the child in question petted the horse's damp nose. "Oi wanted ter tell ye aboyt ‘imself not spakin’," she continued with a sudden braveness she could only contribute to her Irish boldness.

"I've noticed he's rather quiet."

"Our da died a month before ‘e wus born, an’ our ma died when ‘e wus wee more than a sprog. De shock av losin’ ‘er wus ‘ard on ‘imself an’ ‘e ‘asn't spoken since."

"How old was he when your mother died?"

"Nearly tree."

"You haven't been raising him alone since then, have you?"

Shay's question was innocent enough, yet it left Kristen flustered and regretting ever mentioning the subject.

"Oi wud rather not discuss it, if yer don't mind."

"I'm sorry Kristen," he said, turning her around to face him. "I lost my mother too. I know how hard it is to lose somebody you love."

"Oi jist tart yer shud nu. Sean's needs lashings av attenshun an’ care. Oi ‘ope someday ‘e'll be strong enoof te return ‘um an’ reclaim what's rightfully ‘is."

"What do you mean?"

Shay's curiosity peeked, but the sudden wall enclosing Kristen assuring him she wouldn't disclose anything further.

"’Tis not important an’ ‘tis gettin' late. Oi nade ter git Sean ter bed."

Kristen smiled politely just as she had every night since they'd met. She brushed his arms away and continued walking. The longer Shay knew this woman, the more he found his interest in her increasing. He hadn't been able to convince her to call him by his name yet, but he was determined and patient enough to continue working on it.

As they neared the hotel's front step, Shay began to develop a plan of attack. It was obvious Kristen was concerned about her brother's welfare, which meant she would do just about anything to help him. If he could help Sean talk, it was possible Kristen would feel she was in his debt and then...Shay's eyes traveled over the unsuspecting young woman. The yellow cotton dress accented her delicate skin and golden blonde hair. Her slender waist and narrow hips were shrouded beneath the full skirt, and the lace outlining the plunging neckline only added to the already erotic feelings growing inside him.

Her firm breasts strained against the material, bringing a vivid image of what lay beyond to Shay's lustful mind. He knew exactly what she would feel like in his arms, without once touching her sensual form. That would be his goal, he smiled seductively. If he could bring little Sean out of his sheltered existence, he would have Kristen O’Malley exactly where he wanted her - in his bed.

"Wat ye tinkin’ aboyt?" she asked him, bringing him out of his passion induced solitude.

Shay glanced up from his private inspection to see soft violet eyes staring at him. A feeling of guilt rushed over him. Anyone could tell just from looking at her, Kristen was an innocent young girl with little or no experience dealing with a man's desires. He couldn't do it, he just couldn't take advantage of that innocence, yet that didn't mean he wouldn't help Sean. He truly did care for the boy and his problems. If he could help him and if Kristen felt beholden to him, he would accept whatever she gave as a reward. That wouldn't stop him from hoping though.

"I was just thinking about Sean. I'd like to try and help him if I can."

"Yer mean ye’d be willin’ ter ‘elp ‘imself spake again?"

Kristen looked at the man, eyes wide and filled with obvious disbelief. How could any man be willing to undo the damage another man had created?

"I don't know if I could do anything more than you've already tried, but I'd be willing to give it a shot. That is if you wouldn't mind?"

"Mind? Ah’d be grateful for anythin' yer cud do. Ah’ve tried meself for donkey’s years, but Sean ‘ad ter endure de wrath av...wat Oi mean is...tanks'," she stuttered, realizing her gratitude could prove to be her destruction. She couldn't tell Shay about the Baron or his evil temper.

"You're not telling me everything, Kristen. Why? Are you running away from something?"

Kristen was embarrassed for letting go of her restraint. A mistake she couldn’t risk taking again.

"It doesn't concern yer, Mr. Sinclair, an’ frankly, Oi don't tink ‘tis any av yer business. In fact, Oi’ ‘onestly don't tink yer cud do anythin' ter ‘elp me brah’der, but Oi tank yer fer offerin’."

"Whoa, wait a minute," he said, pulling her to a halt in front of him. "I never meant to pry, and I apologize for upsetting you, but don't close the door on me. If you don't want to tell me what's going on, I won't force you, but just know if you need somebody to talk to, I'm available. I might be able to help with whatever it is you're hiding."

"Oi’m sorry Oi snapped at yer," she said with a blush. "Oi suppose ‘tis just me cursed temper. Me mom alwus said it wud be me downfall."

"It's not so bad. In fact, I rather like it. It gives you spunk."

"Spunk?"

"Character, spirit, you know, personality."

"Oh," she answered, turning away from him and continuing her path.

She wasn't sure if she'd been insulted or complimented, but either way, she felt a strange tingling that started at her toes and traveled up her legs settling in the pit of her stomach.

"Oi wud be grateful if yer cud ‘elp Sean. ‘E really cares for yer."

"The feeling is mutual, but I have to be honest, my help comes with a price tag."

Kristen looked at the man, frowning at the strange smile curving his lips.

"Oi ‘aven't much money, but Ah’ll pay yer wat Oi ‘ave."

"I don't want your money. My price for helping you brother is you."

Kristen's eyes widened at Shay's confession and her heart began to pound so loudly between her ears, she nearly missed what he was saying.

"If I can get your brother to speak before the town ball next month, you have to agree to go with me. I dread having to go to that thing alone."

"Oi tart yer be takin' Miss Baker?"

"Caroline? Kristen, Caroline Baker is not my keeper. There's never been any commitment made from either of us and there never will be." Shay sighed, realizing how defensive he was sounding. "I'm not taking Caroline because I don't want to. I would like to take you, though. Hattie could watch Sean, or we could take him out to my ranch and have Mira sit with him. He really likes her and loves her homemade bread."

Kristen smiled at the image of her little brother sitting at Shay's table, eating his cook's freshly baked bread. He used to do it often when their mother was alive, but he hadn't been allowed near the kitchen since her death.

"It seems you’ve tart av everythin' except wan. Oi ‘aven't a costume for de barl, an’ ‘tis too late ter start wan nigh."

"If I could make certain you had a costume, would you go with me?"

"Aye, but dare isn't any chance..."

"Trust me," Shay interrupted with a smile as open and devastating as the devil himself. "I'll take care of everything, you just promise you'll save every dance for me."

"Oi promise."

Kristen continued walking, thinking about the wonderful time she would have dancing in the arms of this tall stranger who brought the sun's warmth into her life. Then reality struck, and she remembered there was no chance she could possibly have a costume ready in less than a few short weeks. The dream was there, but the cold truth was tramping it down in the farthest reaches of her heart.