'The gentleman next to Cole is my brother Douglas,' she told him. 'I believe I'll wait a little while before I introduce you to him. His mood is bound to improve.'
'He does look irritated about something,' Harrison remarked.
He'd given the man a close inspection when he strolled past him. Harrison walked by Mary Rose's side, with his hands clasped behind his back, while he considered a delicate way to ask her about Douglas.
'Is Douglas a stepbrother?' he asked in what he hoped was a casual tone of voice.
'No. Why do you ask?'
'He doesn't look like you or Cole. I never would have guessed he was related. He reminds me of a friend of mine named Nicholas. He was born and raised in Italy.'
'I don't believe Douglas is Italian. He might be Irish. Yes, I believe he is.'
'You believe he is?'
She nodded but didn't offer any additional information. Harrison was thoroughly confused. 'Did your father marry a second time?'
'No. Cole and I are the only ones in the family who resemble one another.'
He waited for her to tell him more. She didn't say another word about her brothers, however, and, in fact, turned the questioning around on him.
'Do you have any brothers?'
'No.'
'Any sisters?'
'Afraid not.'
'What a pity,' she concluded. 'Being an only child must have been terribly boring for you. Who did you fight with while you were growing up?'
He laughed. 'No one.'
No wonder the poor man didn't know how to defend himself. It was all making perfectly good sense to her now. He didn't have any older brothers to teach him all the necessary things he needed to know.
Harrison glanced back over his shoulder to get yet another look at Douglas.
His conclusion didn't change. He still didn't believe Douglas was related to Mary Rose. Everything about his physical appearance was different from Cole's. Douglas had curly black-brown hair and dark brown eyes, a square chin, and wide, yet pronounced, cheekbones. Cole's facial features were more patrician in structure, and his nose was almost hawklike. Harrison couldn't tell which one was older. Odd, but they appeared to be about the same age. Perhaps only a year separated their births, he reasoned, and perhaps too, Douglas was simply a throwback to one of their ancestors.
Anything was possible, he knew, and damn but he was anxious to find out if he was wasting his time or not.
'You don't look Irish.'
'I don't?' She smiled up at him and continued walking. She was obviously unwilling to discuss the matter further.
'Mary Rose, where in thunder are you going?'
Her brother, Douglas, shouted the question. She turned around. 'I'm going to the stables,' she answered in a near shout of her own. She hurriedly turned around again, quickened her pace, and only then called out the rest of her explanation.
'Mr. MacDonald will be joining us for supper.'
The two brothers watched their sister all but run away from them. Cole waited another minute and then put his hand out, palm up, in front of his brother.
Douglas let out a low expletive, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a silver dollar.
'Never bet against a sure thing,' Cole advised.
Douglas slapped the piece of silver into his hand. His gaze stayed on the stranger. 'I don't get it,' he muttered. 'He looks fit enough to me. He towers over Mary Rose. Hell, he's over six feet tall, and he's got muscle, Cole. You can see he does.'
'I see,' Cole replied, laughing.
'He moves like you do, I noticed right away, and his gaze doesn't miss a thing. Honest to God, I can't understand what she sees in him. He looks kind of normal.'
Cole was gloating because he had won the wager. Douglas found his behavior irritating.
'Damn it, he's wearing a gun. I'd be wary of him if I met him in a dark alley.'
'It's a new gun.'
'So?'
'He's never used it.'
'Then why is he wearing one of those fancy new gunbelts?'
Cole shrugged. 'I guess he figured he should. There isn't a single nick on the leather. It's got to be brand- new too.'
'Is he stupid then?'
'Seems so.'
Douglas shook his head. 'He's gonna get himself killed.'
Cole's smile widened. 'And that's why our sister is bringing him home.'
Douglas wanted his money back. 'You knew all this before you made the bet?'
'You could have asked. You didn't.'
Douglas accepted defeat. His gaze went back to the stranger. He watched until he disappeared around the corner of the stable.
'Dooley told Morrison he's from Scotland. Said he was book-smart too.'
'Then he's a city boy?'
Cole nodded. 'Seems so,' he agreed. 'He can't shoot his new gun, and I don't think he can fight. You didn't see any scars on his face, did you?'
'No, I didn't see any scars. I guess he'd have some if he'd been in any knife fights.'
'My point exactly,' Cole said. 'I talked to him for a couple of minutes. He sounds educated, but he doesn't seem to have any common sense. He told me he was afraid to shoot at Webster. Said he was worried he might hurt someone.'
Douglas laughed. Cole waited until he'd calmed down, then said, 'If he had any sense at all, he wouldn't be wearing a gun. He's giving everyone the notion he's qualified.'
'It's a shame,' Douglas remarked. 'Someone that big ought to be able to fight. He could be a real mean one if he only knew how.'
Cole agreed. 'It's a crying shame all right.'
'What did Mary Rose say his name was?'
'MacDonald,' Cole replied. His grin was wide when he added, 'A-Crying-Shame MacDonald.'
