It was probably a flaw in her defense that she did enjoy his way with words. “I don’t plan on giving them much choice.”
He sighed. “You just can’t shove reform down people’s throats.”
“When the alternative is leaving innocents neglected, uneducated and unloved, to grow up to be a bane on our society far into the future, I can force whatever I want.”
His left eyebrow crooked up. “You think you’ve got that much muscle?”
“I think with Christmas coming up, and the spirit of charity that goes with it, I have a good chance of making a start.”
“And you’re just going to take that inch?”
She nodded. “And stretch it into a mile.”
His right eyebrow joined the left. “And you don’t expect resentment?”
“Oh, I expect resentment.” She was already experiencing some. Her roll was getting cold.
“But you plan on getting past it?”
She nodded again. “I plan on getting past it.”
Ace shook his head and straightened, opening the door for Caden, who was bringing chairs out to the porch. “You know, no matter how many good deeds you do, they are never going to elect you mayor.”
She gritted her teeth. “The town already has a mayor.”
“Which you don’t think much of.”
He had to be observant to know that.
The mayor was a lazy man, and lazy men tended to stay the heck out of her way. So she was content with him in that office. “I’m hoping he’ll be supportive.”
If only by his disinterest.
Maddie spoke up from where she was wiping down the counter. “It is a good cause.”
Ace looked over at her. “It may be, but going about it this way is just going to make enemies.”
“Why?” Petunia stepped back as Caden set the chair in front of the door to hold it open. “Why should helping children make any enemies?”
Caden looked up from where he was bracing the chair. “Because those children have fathers who prefer that they stay hidden.”
“If those children have fathers,” she snapped, “then those fathers should be taking care of them.”
Ace shrugged. “They are, in their way.”
“It’s better than nothing,” Caden offered, folding his arms across his chest.
“Not by much.”
Petunia could see the first of the congregation leaving the church. If she didn’t get moving, she’d be forced to be civil to people who’d be taking veiled stabs at her. Her plan really wasn’t popular. “No living thing should suffer needlessly because others are too lazy or too worried about how it looks to help them. Society is only as strong as its weakest link.”
Ace swore. She flinched, even as every nerve ending snapped to attention. His eyes narrowed, and as if on cue her breath caught. Darn it! Why this with this man? It was so...inconvenient.
Caden looked between the two of them and just sighed. “You know if you two spent a little less time fighting and a little bit more talking, you’d probably find out you’re on the same side of most of your discussions.”
She lifted her chin. “I highly doubt I have anything in common with Mr. Parker.”
From the tug Ace gave his hat, he wasn’t any too pleased with the observation, either. “Yeah. You’d have to shove a broomstick up my ass to get me to be that uptight.”
“Ace!” Maddie reprimanded from within the store.
Petunia just raised her brow. Did he think his crudeness would shock her? “We could probably arrange that.”
“You and what posse?”
“I imagine we could assemble a few of your disgruntled companions to make it happen.”
Ace made a sound. She couldn’t tell if he was choking on outrage or laughter. Before she could ask, Caden interrupted.
“Never seen two cats fight as much as you two do. At least not without a hell of a good reason.”
Ace was entirely too quick to say, “I’ve got a reason.”
And she was entirely too curious to know what it was. Before she could open her mouth to retort, Maddie came around the counter. “Please. We like you both.”
Caden didn’t move, but the air suddenly seemed thicker. “What my wife is trying to say, Ace, is that no one cares about your reason. As my wife’s friend, Petunia is always a welcome guest in my home.” His voice lowered just a fraction. “And always under my protection.”
Ace pulled up straight. Shoulders squared as subtle tension entered his stance. His “The hell you say” was low and threatening.
Maddie stopped dead. The catch in Petunia’s breathing became permanent. Caden wasn’t even ruffled. “You heard me.”
If Caden had spoken to her in that tone, Petunia would be running. Ace didn’t even bat an eye. Caden waved his hand. Maddie went back behind the counter.
“This is none of your business, Caden.”
“So take me to court.”
“That’s not fair, Caden,” Maddie called. “You know Judge Bracen is holding a grudge against Ace.”
“Another one of your satisfied customers?” Petunia asked with a lift of her brows.
Ace shrugged. “He’s not pleased I didn’t declare that fool’s gold of his genuine.”
“Cost him a pretty penny on that land deal.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Petunia interrupted, wanting this to end before it got more combative. She might not want to like Ace, but she did like Caden and Maddie, and Maddie was sympathetic to her cause. Caden she wasn’t so sure of. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the set of Ace’s shoulders. Along her nerve endings she felt the weight of his stare, and that breathless trembling started anew. It was definitely time to go.
“Thank you for the cinnamon roll, Maddie.” She forced herself to take a nibble. The soft pastry sat like lead in her mouth. Tension skimmed along her nerves. “It’s delicious as always.” She nodded to Caden. Ace she ignored.
He naturally couldn’t let that pass. “Not even going to say goodbye?” he asked as she turned.
Nope. Not a goodbye. Not a glance. Not anything that would feed her weakness. Lifting her skirts with her free hand, she stepped off the walk, ignoring the inner prompting that wanted to know if he watched her, if he was smiling, if there was approval in his eyes. She forced herself to continue toward home and not give him the satisfaction of looking back. It was the hardest thing she’d done in a long, long time.
* * *
ACE WATCHED PETUNIA stroll down the street in that purposeful way of hers and shook his head. Seems he’d been watching Petunia since the day she’d stepped off the stage all pale blond elegance and temptation. She wasn’t the sort of woman a man like him would approach. Buttoned-up women were notoriously boring in and out of bed, but there was a reckless side to Petunia that no amount of blue serge could conceal. One that, once fed by the fire of conviction, could take her where angels feared to tread. Like right up into Simon Laramie’s face when he’d protested her effort to feed his hungry kids. Laramie outweighed her by a hundred pounds, but she’d stood