He grunted, obviously unhappy with the comer he was being pushed into. "What about mealtime? You cain't just leave us to Mei Lin. She's liable to fix us a mess o' fricasseed cat, like she did that one time afore we all knew it."
"Mei Lin won't do any cooking, I promise. Flo can make breakfast in the morning and fill the lunch pails." Jess paused to say to Devlin, "Florence O'Malley is the neighbor I told you about. She's almost as good a cook as I am."
"Hah!" Clem's grunt was followed by a muttered, "Thought your pa taught you better'n to tell tall tales."
Clem . . . please?"
He gave her a hard, fuming look before throwing a narrow-eyed glance at Devlin. "Just fer one night?" he asked Jess. "You ain't going up there after tonight?"
"No, I'll stay right here, I promise."
"Well . . . I ought to have Doc take a look at my head. Must be loco for lettin' you rope me into this."
"Good, then it's settled." She turned to Devlin. "Are you hungry? I could make you something to eat before we go.
He shook his head, his lips quivering in amusement. "I ate earlier."
"All right. I'll just fix lunch in case you get hungry later on." Jess took a deep breath. "Clem, there's just one more thing. I want to take Nellie and Gus up to the mine with us."
Clem came up out of his chair like an erupting volcano. "Now wait a durn minute! Nobody touches them mules without my say-so!"
"I know. That's why I'm asking you."
"No! And that's final."
"You don't even know why I want them."
He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring down at her. "You gonna tell me?"
"I just thought they would make good watchdogs. You know how they kick up a fuss whenever a stranger comes near. We can tie Nellie and Gus just outside the mine so they'll alert us to anybody who doesn't belong there."
"And jest who's gonna take care of 'em?"
"I'm sure Devlin will give them the best of care."
"I'll guard them with my life," he said soberly enough, though when Jess looked to him for confirmation, she had the distinct impression he was trying not to laugh.
"See? I know they're your favorite mules, Clem, but it won't hurt them to spend the night up at the mine for a few weeks. It's not as if this was winter."
"Damitall, Jess!"
Though frowning at the cuss word, she remained silent, waiting for him to relent.
Clem muttered under his breath, uncrossed his arms, crossed them again, tugged on his beard, and finally gave in with a sigh of frustration. "I reckon it won't hurt them much."
Jess gave the mule skinner a brilliant smile. "Thank you, Clem. Would you get them ready? And show Devlin to the livery stable? He's going to use Riley's horse. I'll be along in a minute, when I get a lunch packed."
With one last shake of his gray head, Clem turned and retrieved his rough jacket and coarse felt hat from a peg on the wall, then stomped out the back door, muttering about muleheaded womenfolk.
Jess let out her breath on a sigh before glancing at Devlin. The look he was giving her held laughter and something more . . . admiration, perhaps. Whatever it was made color rise to her cheeks.
"I'm sorry Clem was rude to you. He didn't mean anything by it. He treats all strangers that way."
"I didn't mind," Devlin said with a lazy grin. "I had a front-row seat for the entertainment. It was better than a ticket to a vaudeville show."
With that, he tipped his hat and rose from the table. Not knowing how to answer, Jess watched him go, her blush deepening. It wasn't much of a compliment to be told she had provided amusement for a man like that.
Devlin followed Clem outside and found the mule skinner kicking at the back step and swearing a blue streak.