Renegade's Pride

“Probably worried about that bear you thought you saw.”

Something about the way he said it put her on alert. “Probably. I’m just glad I have the day off. I think I need it.”

“I looked around out back this morning when I got here,” he said, his gaze intent on her face. “I didn’t see any tracks. At least no bear tracks.”

“That’s good to hear. I’m sure I imagined it,” she said, trying to laugh it off. “It was probably just the stress of Dad being arrested and all that.”

“Lillie, if there’s more bothering you—” Darby handed his sister a cup of coffee. “Seriously, if you aren’t feeling well—”

She cut him off with a shake of her head as she took the coffee. “Thanks. I’m fine.”

“Flint called earlier,” her brother said.

Her pulse thundered in her ears. She tried to keep her face blank. Her first thought was that Flint had caught Trask. Which meant he was either behind bars or possibly dead.

“What did Flint want?” She hated that her voice broke.

“Said he wanted to get together soon and talk about Dad. It felt more like he was checking up on one of us than Dad, though.” She saw worry in Darby’s expression and knew at once which of them might cause a person to worry.

Lillie wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or not. At least Flint hadn’t been calling about Trask. “Did you tell him we’re all fine and we don’t need him checking up on us?”

“No, I saved my breath, since we both know it wouldn’t do any good.” He frowned and studied her openly. “You did have a rough night, huh? You should try to get a nap today. Otherwise, I pity Wainwright.”

She stared at him, uncomprehending. “Wainwright?”

“Your big date with him tonight. Don’t tell me you forgot.”

“That’s tonight?” She let out a curse and slapped her palm against her forehead. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any more complicated.

“You can always renege on the bet.”

The one thing a Cahill never did was renege on anything. Even a stupid bet. “You know I can’t do that. Maybe he had enough to drink that he won’t remember.”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Darby said. “He likes you and has for some time, but I think you already know that.”

Junior Wainwright had asked her out several times over the past few years. Then he’d caught her at a weak moment a week ago when he’d suggested they let fate decide if she should go out with him. He was in the bar drinking with friends and everyone was having a good time.

“One date, dinner, maybe dancing, definitely champagne,” Junior had said. “Your luck against mine.” He had rattled the leather container with the dice in it that was kept behind the bar to roll for drinks or money for the jukebox.