\" Lucy scanned her memories for a face to match the name Josh Durkin. “I didn’t know you objected to him, daddy. But a middle-aged man like Ramage ought to know better than to draw out a girl, the daughter of a friend and neighbor. My heart would speak if it could, for it is very full. Why do you look so sad?” She opened her eyes wider and stifled her emotions. She drew in a deep breath of the sweet mountain air. ’ She was obliged to acknowledge the justice of this complaint, and moved further into the passage to allow the men access. Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. His tone was rough, almost threatening. Cocking the gun. He seemed to deliberate. That was one of the compensations for having consigned himself to this part of the world. I am very, very sorry, but you must listen to me.
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