Joseph stood at the back door, blocking Katie’s path out. She was thoroughly put out with him. “If you’re wanting to eat tonight, Joseph Archer, I suggest you get out of my way. I’ve deliveries to make, and time is tight.” She glared at him, an oversized basket of loaves propped on her hip. “Now quit fussing like a granny and let me go make my deliveries.” “Not on your life.” “Joseph.” She muttered his name in complete frustration. He didn’t budge. “You will not be going out alone, Katie. Not even just down the Irish Road. The Reds crossed that border when they cut the tail of Tavish’s horse.” He set his jaw. “And they are already upset with you.” Katie knew all that. She was well aware her presence had started this latest feuding. Being stared at for nearly a month certainly kept her situation fresh in her mind. Joseph took her basket from her. “You won’t be stopping me from going,” she warned him. Katie’d known the moment she left the céilí that giving up on her Irish neighbors was not an option she would consider.
