The Cowboy's Convenient Proposal

He’d told himself the same thing many times so couldn’t argue. Somehow hearing her say it made him like her just a little. “You will keep an eye on your leg and make sure it doesn’t get infected? If you see any sign of it, let me know. Linette will have ways of treating it.”

“I can manage on my own.”

“I was only being helpful.” He felt her wariness and recalled her earlier words. “And I don’t expect any form of repayment in return.”

“I would pay cash for the use of the cabin if I had any. I don’t. Nor do I aim to repay favors with favors.”

He sighed loud and long. “I would not take either.” He tested the potatoes with a fork. They were cooked. He trotted back to the cabin for dishes, paused to fill a bucket of water at the well. Back at the fire, he handed her two plates, forks and cups.

“Thank you,” she said.

He chomped down on his teeth to keep from saying it was good to see she had a measure of manners. “Call out and tell Belle the food is ready.”

“Belle. There’s food. It smells mighty good. Can you smell it?”

They both waited silently for a sound of the little girl. To his right, the grass rustled.

“She’s coming,” he whispered.

“Ward made lots of stew and there’s baked potatoes. When was the last time you had a whole potato?”

The grass rustled some more, then Belle hovered at the edge of the darkness.

“Come on, honey,” Red urged.

Belle darted glances at Ward as she made her way to Red’s side, going the long way around the fire to avoid having to pass him.

He tried not to let it bother him and failed miserably. Instead, he had to be content with handing them a heaping plate of food. He handed Red a potato. She took it. But when he held out one toward Belle, she shrank back. Red reached for it but Ward withdrew. He wanted Belle to trust him enough to take it from him. After all, he had provided the food. Besides, he was getting tired of being treated like one of the bad guys.

Belle’s fear was palpable, but so was her hunger. He offered her a towel. “It’s hot. Hold it with this.”

She snatched the towel, took another moment to consider the potato carefully, then, doing her best not to touch his hand, took it.

It was a start. Satisfied, he sat down with his own food. “I’ll say grace.”

He didn’t need to look at Red to feel her resistance. But Belle met his eyes steadily a moment before she bowed her head.

He prayed, and then they ate in silence. When he saw they’d cleaned their plate, he offered them another helping, which they didn’t refuse.

The evening deepened. Despite the warmth of the fire, he felt coolness moving in. “I need to do my chores.” Though likely Slim or Roper had seen to them by now.

Red sprang to her feet. “You go. We’ll be fine.”

Ward picked up his hat from beside him and slammed it on his head. “What’s your hurry?”

“I didn’t mean...”

“Don’t bother backpeddling. But if you don’t mind, I’ll see that you’re settled in the cabin and the fire is dowsed before I leave.” He grabbed the lamp and strode back to the cabin. He set the lamp on the tiny table.

Red slipped into the room. “Guess you can’t blame me for being leery. I want to make it on my own. Owe no man anything.”

“I could carve it in the log by the table so you don’t forget.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Lady, my stepfather made no secret that my presence set his teeth on edge. So I walked away from my family because I figured if I left they’d be better off. But I’ve never known if it was so or not. Instead I wonder. And I regret leaving. My only reason for helping you is to make up for leaving my family. It’s nothing to do with you. So don’t think I plan to take advantage of you. You mention it again and I will carve ‘I want nothing in return’ in that there log.” He slapped the chosen place.

“Well, fine then. Just so long as we understand each other.”

“I’m pretty sure we do. There’s the bedroom.” He pointed toward the door. “There’s the stove. I can light it now if you think it’s too chilly in here, though likely you would then roast like trussed chickens. There’s food in the cupboard. Not much. I’ll be back with more in the morning. The place is yours.”

He headed for the door, which was all of three steps away, and Red bolted out of his way. He stopped to give her a long, steady look.

She lowered her head and mumbled something that sounded vaguely like “thank you.”

He nodded briskly and stepped outside. “Call your sister. I’m going to put out the fire.”

At her call, Belle dashed past him to join Red.

He carried the dishes to the cabin and set them in a pot without any comment, then grabbed a shovel from the corner.

Smacking out the lingering flames and covering the embers with dirt allowed him take care of most of his frustration.

He wondered if rescuing this pair would in any way ease his guilt about having left his own family, or if he had bitten off more than he cared to chew.

Chapter Four

Red and Belle stood silent and motionless as Ward called from outside, “Goodbye. Be safe.”

Red knew Belle didn’t breathe any louder than she did as they listened to him stomp away from the cabin. As the sound faded she strained, but couldn’t tell if she still heard his footsteps in the distance or if it was the pounding of her blood against her eardrums. So she waited, not daring to move until she was certain. It seemed he had truly left, and her breath whistled out.

“Is he gone?” Belle whispered.

“Yes.” Thankfully. She was grateful for his help. Truly she was. But she didn’t plan to accept more than she was forced to.

“Are you glad?” Belle asked, easing away from the dark corner as if still uncertain it was safe to do so.

“We’re finally on our own. Just you and me.” Apart from Linette and Eddie up the hill, a cookhouse and cowboys across the road and Ward, no doubt, flitting back and forth. She would have much preferred Ward’s isolated cabin, but this would do for now.

“I’m glad, too.” Belle turned to study the room. “We gonna sleep here?”

“Yup. Just the two of us. Let’s have a look around.” The room held a small stove that would serve as a kitchen range as well as a welcome source of heat on cold nights. There was a tiny table, two chairs, a shelf with a few supplies and a bookcase with a few odds and ends. There was another doorway and they went to the small bedroom.

Belle edged over to the bed and touched it. “How long we staying here?”

Red crossed to Belle’s side, perched on the bed and caught her sister’s chin. “Honey, we need some place until I can come up with a plan. But as soon as I do, we’ll leave. We’ll find a place on our own where we’ll always be safe and always together.”

Belle’s gaze clung to Red’s. She could see her little sister wanted to believe in a future that held promise and possibility. Understood her hesitation to do so. Her faith in good things had been shattered in the past few months.

Red pulled Belle to her lap and held her tight. “We got away from Thorton and Old Mike. They’re both in jail and will never hurt us again.”

“They’ll stay in jail forever?”

“I hope so. But long enough they won’t bother us again.”

“Red, he prayed. He said we could trust God.”

She heard the wistful note in her sister’s voice and understood Belle referred to Ward.

How was she to deal with this? She had no trust left. Not for God and certainly not for any man. But how could she admit she felt God had abandoned them and rob Belle of any hope? On the other hand, she didn’t want her to trust anyone but themselves for their future. She closed her eyes and tried to marshal her thoughts together. It took too much effort, made her head ache. She’d deal with the matter later.

Belle looked intently into Red’s face. “You don’t like him, do you?”

The question startled Red. There was something about Ward that got under her skin like a red, itchy rash. His insistence on helping even though it was evident he didn’t care a whole lot about her. The way he took objection to her comments. Yes, they might have been a little barbed, but she couldn’t help it. It had become part of her armor. Yet, despite his contrary ways, he exuded strength beyond the power in his arms. It came from deep inside him. Born, perhaps, out of his own pain and experience. She had to respect that. Might even find it slightly appealing.

But she could not let herself like him. To like a man, she would have to trust him, and she could not, would not, ever again trust a man.

Belle waited patiently for her answer.

“Honey, we don’t know him well enough to have much of an opinion about him.”

Taking her cues from Red, Belle sighed. “Too bad he’s a man. Otherwise I might like him.”

Laughing at her little sister’s wisdom, Red hugged her tight. “Let’s check out the bed.” She pulled Belle down beside her and they flopped backward on the furs. “I think we’ll be very comfortable.” Sharing a narrow bed with her sister was not going to be difficult. Having her so close, she could feel her breathing would comfort her.

They returned to the other room and examined the items on the shelf. Containers of flour, cornmeal and sugar. “Guess we won’t starve to death.”

“Can I help you cook things?”

“Of course you can. We will have so much fun. Just the two of us.” She glanced at the darkened window. Would they see the mountains through that window? She touched the log where he had threatened to carve words. Her chest seemed wooden as a strange wistfulness filled her. She’d once known a secure home. So had Belle, but she wasn’t sure her sister could remember happy family times.

Red didn’t know what the future held nor where they would go from here, but perhaps in this little cabin she could give Belle some enjoyable times. Teach her to be happy and trusting again, though not too trusting. Look at the predicament they’d landed in because Red trusted people too much.

Belle stood in the center of the room and spun around. “I love it here.” She jerked to a stop so quickly she almost tumbled over. “No one will bother us, will they?”

A storm of emotions raced through Red. Anger that Belle should know such uncertainty, hatred toward the man who’d stolen the innocence of them both, despair at how little she could offer her sister. Then determination, solid as a rock, pressed down all other feelings. She would do anything, everything, she could to protect her sister from any more hurt.

“If anyone bothers us, I’ll take a shovel to the side of his head.”

Belle’s eyes widened. “You’d hurt him?”

Belle meant Ward. Red meant anyone who threatened them. “If he tried to bother us, I would.”

Rocking back and forth, Belle considered Red silently. Then she came to a decision. “Maybe you shouldn’t hurt him.”

Red’s head snapped back. This from a little girl who had as much reason to hate men as anyone. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, if you hurt him he might not want to help us. It’s scary and dark out there.” She tilted her head toward the door and Red knew she referred to the half hour or so she’d hidden in the bushes. “Besides, I like this.” She went to the table, climbed up on a chair and pressed her hand to a picture mounted on the wall.

Red hadn’t paid any attention to it, but now she moved closer. A sampler done in various stitches, pretty flowers and designs around words. The words, done in black cross-stitch, “Whither shall I flee from Thy presence? The darkness and light are both alike to Thee.” The words brushed a dark spot deep within. “It’s very nice. I wonder who made it,” Red said.

“I think someone’s mother.”

Red sat down on the bed and Belle sat beside her. “Why do you think so?”

“Because Mama made one like this for me, didn’t she? Remember? She hung it over my bed and said I should never forget the words.”

The memory rushed toward Red. She tried to dam it back. She could not let her thoughts hearken back to those happy, innocent days. Everything about her past filled her with crippling regret.

“I ’member her making it.”

So did Red. The dam broke and she was back at her childhood home. She was warm, happy, secure in her parents’ love and protection. Seems the house glowed with treasures, each representing love. Mama sat in a rocking chair that had been Grandma’s and told stories of sitting on her own mother’s lap ensconced in the same chair where Red remembered sitting on Mama’s knees and later, where she and Mama took turns rocking Belle. What a sweet baby she’d been. “A gift from heaven for us all,” Mama had said time and again. “After losing so many babies, God has granted us Belle to fill our hearts with joy.” Indeed the happiness in the house had reached new heights with the safe arrival of Belle. Mama had once said she might not live to see Belle marry and asked Red to promise she’d see Belle was properly cared for. Red had readily agreed, never suspecting an accident would thrust the role upon her so unexpectedly.

“Mama hung it over my bed on my fourth birthday.”

“I’m surprised you remember.”

“I didn’t till I saw this one. Then I ’membered.”

“I remember, too.” Mama had stitched a cradle with a baby in it, a window behind the cradle with light pouring in. She’d carefully selected the scripture. “I want something that will encourage Belle her entire life. No matter what may happen,” their mother had said.

Oh, how disappointed her parents would be that Red hadn’t protected Belle as she’d promised. She would live with that regret to her dying day and the moment she stepped into heaven, she would beg their forgiveness.

Not that she was sure God would let her into heaven after the events of the past year and her vow to never forgive Thorton.

“I remember the words, too,” Belle said.

Red did, too, though she no longer believed them with childlike innocence and wondered if Belle did.

“‘I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.’ Red, do you think Mama would be angry that I did forget them for a little while?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Red, do you still pray?”

She wished she could avoid the question. She had no desire to rob Belle of whatever faith and trust she still had. But she couldn’t lie. “Not much.”

“Me, either, but when I was locked in Old Mike’s cabin I remembered a prayer Mama said and I said it out loud. That’s what I was doing when you came for me.”

Her curiosity overcame her doubt. “What prayer was that?”

“‘God, You are a very present help to me, and I am receiving Your help even now as I pray. Thank You, Father. You are my refuge and strength, and because this is true, I will not fear anything or anyone.’”

Red pressed her tongue to the top of her mouth. Her nose stung. She could not breathe for dread of unleashing so many frightening emotions she feared she would drown.

Why had God forsaken her? Where was He when they needed help?

“God heard me. He hasn’t forgotten me.”

Oh, if only she could have the faith of her little sister. But never again could she be innocent and trusting. Nevertheless, she was glad Belle had found comfort in her prayers. She jumped to her feet, ignoring the protest from her injured leg. “Let’s make the bed.”

Together they folded the fur back. It would be much too warm this time of year. They punched the mattress into better shape and smoothed the blankets. She had no way of knowing the time, but it was dark and she was tired. Enough reason to go to bed. They had no other clothes but what they wore, so preparing for bed simply meant washing their faces and removing their shoes.

They lay curled together, Red’s arms around her sister.

“Red?”

“What?”

“We gonna wear these clothes day and night forever?”

Red giggled. “I don’t expect they’ll last forever.”

“Seems I’ve been wearing the same thing for almost that long.”

“I wish I could offer you more, but this is what we have for now.” There was a time when loving parents had generously provided all they needed. They would never again know that sufficiency. Truth was, Red had no idea how she would provide even basic necessities for them. Only that she would find a way that did not require depending on a man.

Even if for now, she had accepted help from two men, if she counted Eddie. Knowing it was Linette’s will that she and Belle stay in the cabin marginally eased her concern at taking charity from a man. Taking it from a woman was an easier pill to swallow.

A fresh thought entered her mind. Perhaps Ward had come in answer to Belle’s prayers. God, no doubt, still heard her words.

She fell asleep, soothed by the gentle snores of her little sister.

The next morning she woke to Belle tickling her nose. “Wake up. It’s morning and I’m hungry.”

Red groaned. Her body hurt from so many hours on horseback and her leg reminded her of her injury. “You sure it’s morning? I don’t see any daylight.”

“’Cause you got your eyes closed.” Belle peeled one eyelid up.

Red brushed her hand aside. “It’s cold in here.”

“You could start a fire in the stove.”

“I could, could I? Or we could wait for the sun to warm the place.”

Belle crawled over Red and pushed into her shoes. “I’ll help you.”

Red rolled over to study her eager sister. “First thing I’m going to teach you is how to build a fire so I can get up to a warm room.”

“Okay.” Belle rushed out of the room. The stove lid rattled. “Show me now,” she called.

With a long-suffering sigh, Red climbed out of bed. Her hair must be a rat’s nest, but they lacked comb or brush. She settled for running her hands over her hair to tame it out of her eyes.

“Hurry up.” Belle waited in the doorway, her hands on her hips in a pose that reminded Red of their mother.

Pain sucked at her insides. She closed her eyes and waited for the hurting to disappear. “Let me get my shoes.”

Belle tipped her head to one side and sighed as if the request was unreasonable.

Red chuckled. “I’m hurrying.” She fastened her shoes, then went to the stove. “First, you need some kindling.” She showed Belle how to build a fire and they watched with undue fascination as the flames took hold.

Soon the heat warmed Red and her brain began to function. For a minute she allowed herself a moment of joy that they were alone and safe. Thank God Thorton was behind bars. God had answered Belle’s prayers and she was grateful for that.

“What are we going to eat?” Belle asked, eyeing the cupboard of supplies.

“What would you like?”

Belle considered her as if wondering what she could ask for.

“Ask and if it’s possible with what’s on hand, we’ll have it.”

Belle held Red’s gaze in a hungry look. “You remember how Mama made teddy bear griddle cakes?”

Another memory flooded Red’s thoughts. Belle was little, still in her high chair. Mama had stood at the stove, wiping her brow in a weary gesture. Mama seemed to be tired a lot and Red had done all she could to help. But Belle fussed.

“She’s got a touch of tummy upset,” Mama had said. “I wish I could have kept nursing her. The cow’s milk doesn’t agree with her.”

“But we were so grateful for fresh milk.”

“Yes, I still am. God provided generously. Now I’m praying Belle will adjust to it soon.” She had set a place of griddle cakes before Belle.

“I’ll feed her.”

Mama had nodded. But Belle had refused to eat. In the end Mama had made a thin porridge and persuaded Belle to take a few spoonfuls.

Over the ensuing weeks, Belle had remained fretful, refused to eat more than a few mouthfuls at a time. She started to lose weight, grew peaked. They were all concerned. Mama had spent a lot of time on her knees beseeching God to make Belle strong.

One day Mama got up and fried pancakes in the shape of a teddy bear, round belly, round head and round ears. She had dropped raisins in for eyes. Belle was charmed. From that day forward food took on interest.

How times had changed. Since they’d fallen in with Thorton, she’d had to endure Belle begging for food on many occasions.

Red wanted to forget those worrisome months. Almost as much as she wished she could forget how Mama had prayed. How she constantly gave God praise for Belle’s health.

“I don’t know if there are any raisins, but we can surely make pancakes.”

“Can I help?”

“Certainly. Who knows? One of these days I might be sick and you’ll be in charge.” She’d been teasing, but at the sudden quivering of Belle’s lips she wished she’d considered her words more carefully. She hugged her sister. “I don’t plan to get sick anytime in the foreseeable future. Now you get a mixing bowl and the flour and we’ll get started.”

As they mixed up the batter, the room grew overly warm.

“Belle, open the door and let in some air.”

Belle paused at the window next to the door. “Everyone will see us.”

She understood how Belle felt. The isolated cabin would have been a better choice for them. Maybe she’d convince Ward to take them there. “We don’t have to open it all the way.” Seeing Belle couldn’t bring herself to face what lay outside the four walls, Red crossed to her side. She planted a log on the ground, holding the door open enough to let in the air but not enough for them to see across the road.

As she straightened, sunlight smacked into the mountains. She stared. Dark folds contrasted with shadowy blue. A thousand unfettered thoughts swirled inside her head. Verses her mama had quoted often. We will not fear though the mountains shake. Emotions she didn’t want to own bubbled to the surface. Hope, joy, longing for things she would not acknowledge.

She was Red. She had danced half-naked before men. She’d been touched in ways that made her cringe. Guilt and loathing quenched all other feelings.

“I like the mountains,” Belle said with utmost conviction. “What did he say they made him think about? God is like the mountains?”

“Something like that.” She would not repeat the exact phrase: As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so the Lord is round about His people.

“I thought you were hungry.”

“I am.”

“Then let’s get the griddle cakes made.”

An hour later they had washed up the dishes and cleaned the little cabin. Belle avoided the window, but sat cross-legged on the floor where she could see out the ajar door.

Red glanced out the window once, saw cowboys streaming from the cookhouse and jerked out of sight. But the open air beckoned. “Let’s go out back.” No one could see them behind the cabin.

Belle jerked to her feet and hurried to the table. “There’s too many people out there.”

Too many men, she likely meant. “I’ll make sure it’s safe.” She edged toward the window and studied the surroundings. Not a man in sight. “Nobody out there. Let’s go.”

They dashed outside and around the cabin. The shovel stood against the corner and Red took it with them. She hadn’t forgotten her promise to use it on any man who threatened them.

They sat on the benches around the cold fire pit, listening to the sound of birds and squirrels noisily going about their morning activities. Red lifted her face to the sun. “It’s very peaceful.”

Suddenly birds erupted from the trees in a great burst of noise. Sounds of horse hooves thundered through the air.

Belle bolted for the cabin. “Men coming,” she wailed.

Red’s initial alarm gave way to reason. “Belle, it’s only the cowboys riding out to work.” This was a ranch, after all. She followed on Belle’s heels into the cabin. “They aren’t interested in us.” But she spoke to an empty room. “Belle?”

* * *

He slowed his horse and waved goodbye to Roper and the others. He’d already spoken to Eddie. “I’m asking for light duties around the ranch for a few days until they’re settled.”

Eddie had readily agreed.

Ward saw Red and Belle race to the cabin. What had frightened them? The door slammed behind Red. Ward studied the area around the cabin. Tipped his head and listened intently. He heard nothing to alarm him. Saw no wild animals prowling nearby. Yet something had sent them fleeing for safety.

Then it hit him. They’d heard him approach and run from him. “Horse, I’m not the enemy here.” Yet over and over, he felt like it. If he had a lick of sense he would turn around and head out to the hills with the rest of the cowboys.

But he flicked the reins and continued toward the big house.

He asked Linette for some things the pair could wear.

“Goodness, what an ordeal they’ve endured. They must be frightened.” She waved him inside and instructed him to wait while she found suitable clothing. “I have the things the Arnesons can no longer use.” A couple had come to the ranch in the spring, ill and too weak to care for themselves. Linette had nursed them as they grew steadily weaker. When they passed away, Eddie had buried them in a nearby plot. They had earlier lost a child and still had her clothes. She quickly found items for both Red and Belle. And agreed to Ward’s request to give Red a day or two to settle before visiting them.

He rode to the cabin, dismounted and paused. “Hello, it’s me.”

Silence.

“Red. Belle. It’s me. Ward. I’ve brought some things.” He stepped forward.

Red emerged from the narrow door, her fingers curled around the handle of a shovel. Her fire-bright hair sprang out in disarray. Her eyes flashed defiance.

He roared with laughter.

She glowered, indicating she didn’t find it amusing.

“You gonna brain me with that?”

“If I have to.”

“Guess you should have done it yesterday before you decided to come along with me.”

“Being here don’t mean you can come and go as you please.”

His amusement ended abruptly. “Red, I promise I will not come and go without regard to the fact you and Belle reside here. No one will.” Eddie had warned the others to give them plenty of space until they were ready to socialize.

“Do you mind putting that aside? I don’t care to have my skull split wide open when I turn my back.”

She hesitated, then propped it next to the door.

He would have felt a lot better if she’d put it against the outer wall where he’d left it. “No one will bother you here. And the woods belong to God. He won’t mind if you enjoy them.”

She nodded. “Only until I get on my feet.”

“I brought some things for you.” He untied the sacks hanging from the saddle.

She said nothing as he carried the supplies to the door.

“You’re welcome.” He was beginning to think she would rather chew her tongue to shreds than express gratitude to him for anything. “Where’s Belle? Some of it’s for her.”

Belle peeked through the crack of the bedroom door. “What you bring?”

“Well, this bag—” he lifted it “—is heavy with food stuff. Cookie makes about the best cinnamon rolls ever. She has some for you at the cookhouse.” He paused long enough for the idea to settle in. Then he lifted the other bag. “This is full of clothes you might be able to use. Linette sent them.”

“Belle, you gonna come see?”

Belle opened the door wider but kept it between them. That was okay. He understood her caution.

He tossed the lighter bag on the table and set the heavier one beside it. “Who wants to see inside?”

Belle got as far as the edge of the door and hovered there like a dragonfly.

Red finally left her post outside the door and stepped inside. “Who is Cookie?”

“She’s the cook. Big, boisterous woman. Her husband, Bertie, helps her. He’s more gentle. But Cookie is a fine cook and a good woman. Every Sunday they hold church services in the cookhouse and Bertie preaches us a sermon. Only it ain’t as much a sermon as a friendly talk.” He had no idea if they cared about any of this, but he figured if he kept talking about ordinary things the pair might relax. “Linette and Eddie want to get a church built in Edendale—that’s the little town close by. Not hardly even a town, but it’s growing. I sometimes wonder if Sundays will be any better with a real church and a real preacher. I like Bertie’s talks.” He ran out of steam. Could think of nothing more that might interest them. Still neither of them moved.

Perhaps the food would hold more sway. He dug into the sack and pulled out the brown-paper-wrapped bundle, set it on the table and folded back the edges. “Cookie thought you might be a bit shy about visiting her this morning, so she sent fresh rolls.” The aroma from them was about more than a man could resist. “Cookie says it’s best to eat them while they’re warm. But I can tell you they’re pretty good stone-cold and two days old, too.” He reached into the sack again. “Didn’t know if you liked tea or coffee so brought them both. Cinnamon rolls with a hot drink is about as good as it gets.”

Belle rocked back and forth. He could hear her swallow from where he stood. “What can I drink?”

“Cookie thought of that, too, so she put in canned milk. Says it’s real good for making cocoa. You ever had hot cocoa?”

Belle edged closer. “Mama used to make it. Red knows how to make it, don’t you?” She appealed to her sister.

“Certainly.”

“That’s good.” Ward waited, wondering if Red would offer to make tea or coffee or hot cocoa. Or would she stand there, guarded and ill at ease until he left?

He shifted his gaze out the window. Up until a few days ago, he’d been content to go about his merry way, writing letters back home, not getting a reply but planning, building and hoping for the time the others would join him. He’d given little thought to how he lived each day. Just did what was next. What Eddie sent him to do or what appeared before him. Choices weren’t difficult.

Now he seemed unable to make an ordinary decision as to whether he should invite himself for tea or leave.

All because of one hotheaded, red-haired woman who got under his skin in a way that he didn’t mind.