the street and not between him and the men backing away.
"Cripes! He's got a gun. The man's crazy!" The shorter man backed toward the nearest alley. "We didn't mean nothing. We were just having some fun. Honest."
"Invite me next time you want to have some fun. I'll show you how we teach people to dance back where I come from." Daniel deliberately aimed the revolver at the shorter man's feet, sending a spurt of bullets into the dust.
The man picked up his feet and ran, his wounded partner limping hurriedly after him.
Gasping, Georgina leaned against the nearest building, holding a hand to her pounding chest and staring from Daniel to the now empty street. She had a hard time believing she had seen that. People didn't do that in Cutlerville, Ohio. She glanced back to Daniel and watched as he slid the wicked revolver beneath his coat and out of sight. She would remember to beware of this man when he was wearing a coat.
But once the gun was out of sight, Daniel returned to being the bare-faced, mild-mannered journalist with the engaging grin as he sauntered toward her. A hank of pale brown hair fell across his forehead, making him look as boyish as the rowdies who sold his papers for him. The twinkle in his gray eyes as he took in her pose had nothing to do with the man who had just unloaded a half dozen bullets into the street.
"I don't know if I ought to be more frightened of you than of them." Pushing away from the wall, Georgina fiddled with her gloves. Daniel was close enough now for her to smell his spicy shaving lotion as he towered over her. She had a sudden urge to fall into his arms and feel them close around her, but Georgina Meredith Hanover didn't do things like that. She was known for her snappy comebacks and bouncy personality and her ability to keep men at a proper distance. She was just momentarily discommoded, that was all.
"Since I'm closest and I'm madder than hell, feel free to be afraid of me. Do I have to chase you through half the town to get you home again, or will you go willingly this time?"
Georgina sighed and finally met his eyes. They weren't laughing any longer. Damn men, anyway, why couldn't they let things be simple?
"I'll go, but you'll have to come back and talk to Janice. She just lost her job. We have to do something."
Daniel caught her arm and steered her down the street. "I have to do something. There is no we to it. Now let's get out of here before those two come back with a few friends."
He didn't have to tell her twice. Georgina moved.
Chapter 10
"I gave the photography equipment to Peter for safekeeping. He can decide whether or not to give it to you after you're married."
George Hanover was still wrestling with his tie, looking into the ornate mirror of the front parlor as he addressed his daughter.
Georgina stood woodenly on the Aubusson carpet and nodded her head. If he couldn't see her in the mirror, he would have to turn around to face her. She wondered if he dared.
He glanced over his shoulder, saw her stiff expression, and went back to his tie. "I hope you've learned your lesson. I'm glad to see you being sensible about this. Your mother and I only have your best interests at heart."
Since her mother hadn't come down yet, that was a matter of opinion. Georgina glanced wistfully toward the stairs. It would be nice if her mother would stand up for her once in a while, but that would be like asking Abraham Lincoln to come back and save the country. She fiddled with the silk ruching on the small panniers draped over her hips, and gazed absently at the toe of her slippers. Her father hadn't mentioned the shorter skirt of her new dinner gown. Perhaps the high collar would fool him, and he wouldn't notice the daring peek-a-boo netting over her bosom, either. She wondered if Peter would.
And a strange little imp inside wondered how much Daniel Martin would notice. She moved restlessly, disregarding that thought.
Peter arrived then, and her mother slowly descended from the upper floor, carrying her slight frame with an erect carriage that would grace a queen. Peter bowed low over her hand, and Dolly Hanover almost smiled, before turning to her husband. The smile disappeared again.
The party entering the carriage was