She eyed Chase up and down, as if uncertain whether to spit on him or kick his shins. “I can give you other examples, if you’d like.”

“No. No, that won’t be necessary. I had just forgotten—” He raked a hand through his hair. He couldn’t forget what he’d never known. The St. Johns were the community. Not a mere part of it.

Harriet turned and made her way to the door. She grabbed the bar and lifted it to one side, then pulled the door open. Sunlight flooded the barn, turning the hay to spun gold.

Her gaze fell on the pile of shears and she laughed. “I almost forgot those.”

Her eyes crinkled and her mouth curved in such a beguiling fashion. He caught her amused look and an unaccustomed heat traveled up his neck.

She straightened, her gaze suddenly fixed on the driveway. “Someone is coming. I think—oh, it’s just the cart from the inn. Mother must have asked them to send some spiced wine.”

Chase glanced indifferently at the cart, watching as Derrick walked up to speak to the driver. They spoke for a moment, then Derrick gestured toward the barn. The man looked toward Harriet and Chase, nodded once, then hawed the horses on.

Harriet frowned. “I wonder what that was about?”

Derrick stood in the drive, watching the cart rumble away before he walked toward them. “That was strange,” he said on reaching them.

“What did he want?” Harriet asked.

“He said he’d heard about the captain and wondered if he could meet him.” Derrick flickered a gaze at Chase. “He was wondering if you were the same Captain Frakenham that he sailed with two years ago.”

“I doubt it,” Chase said.

“That’s what I said,” Derrick returned, a disturbed look in his eyes. “I even pointed you out, thinking that would turn him. But instead, he seemed to recognize you.”

Chase frowned. “Are you certain?”

“I think so. He nodded as if you looked exactly the way he’d expected you to. But then, when I offered to introduce you, he said that wouldn’t be necessary.”

Harriet sighed. “I wonder if Mr. Gower is up to his tricks again.”

“I can’t imagine how,” Chase said. “But if so, he’s too late. We’ll be done with the shearing in another two days and he won’t be able to do a thing to you after that.”

Derrick nodded, a relieved look on his face. “That’s true. Well, I’d best get back to the pens. I have some shearing to do.” He grabbed a set of shears and then walked away, whistling a sprightly tune.

“I must help,” Harriet said, collecting the other shears. She turned to go, but Chase caught her wrist.

Against her brown skin the talisman ring glittered as if jewel-encrusted. “You wore this to irk me.”

She bit her lip. “Actually, I can’t get it off. I haven’t been able to get it off since the first time I put it on.” She grasped it with her other hand and pulled and pulled, but the ring would not budge. She stopped and sighed. “I tried butter and oil, but it’s stuck.”