As the footfalls neared, she clutched the broom in both hands, planning to use it like a bat if necessary. But even as she stepped to the top of the stairs, armed and ready, she was hoping to see Russell Corbett’s handsome face looking up at her.

No such luck. This man was barrel big, his face round and beefy, his look murderous. She swallowed back the scream that rose in her throat, tightening her grip on the broom handle, ready to start swinging.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the man demanded, stopping halfway up the stairs. His face was enflamed with anger. “You have no business being in this house. You’re trespassing and you’re damned lucky I haven’t called the sheriff.”

“You come one step closer and I won’t be responsible for what I do with this broom.”

They both started at the sound of footfalls behind the man.

“Ben? What are you doing here?” Russell asked from the bottom of the stairs as he looked from the big, angry man to Dulcie and her broom.

“I was just asking this trespasser the same thing,” the man said as he shot Dulcie a withering look. “I’m about to take that broom away from her.”

“I’d reconsider that if I were you, since you’re threatening the owner of this place and could end up in jail yourself,” Russell informed him.

Dulcie loosened her grip on the broom, but didn’t put it down as the man retreated back down the stairs. She followed after a moment to find both men standing in the living room, looking at her with anything but pleasure.

“He says you own the place?” demanded the man Russell had called Ben. “You have any proof of that?”

“I do.”

It took a few moments before the man realized she had no intention of showing it to him.

“And you are...?” she asked.

“Ben Carpenter. I was just driving by.”

Russell raised a brow. She could tell he didn’t like the man.

Ben scowled at Dulcie. “You thinking of moving in here?”

The question was so ludicrous even Russell seemed to have a hard time keeping a straight face.

“I’m not sure of my plans,” she said.

Ben shook his head. “Give it some thought. Your kind don’t last long here.”

Her kind?

Russell tensed, all cordiality gone. “I think you’ve said quite enough, Ben.”

“Yeah?” He looked like he might argue, even throw a few punches, but apparently changed his mind. “I guess I’ll just leave the two of you to whatever it is you’re doing,” he said with a nasty sneer before stomping out the door, angling toward an old pickup parked on the road.

“You just make friends wherever you go,” Russell said, shoving back his hat to grin at her.

“It’s a knack,” she agreed. “Who is he?”