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have been injured by the assault. He was holding his own with the drunken ranch hand until Mark joined in, and the two men teamed up on him. When they began to overpower Rick, Francie got up and started to run to the hall to get help, but she didn’t get very far. Paul hit Rick savagely, knocking him to the ground and then went after Francie, catching her before she could escape.
    “As I recall, this was our dance—” he said, leering down at her and enjoying the look of fear in her eyes as Mark continued the fight with Rick.
    “Let her go—”
    The unexpected order came out of nowhere.
    Paul froze at the sound of the commanding voice. He had no idea who was there, and he looked around in shock as a complete stranger stepped forward from the shadows.
    Grant had been on his way to the dance when he’d heard a woman cry out. He’d thought she sounded as if she was in danger, and he had immediately headed in her direction. Now Grant rested his hand on his gun to let the troublemakers know he meant business as he faced them down.
    Paul usually wouldn’t have listened to anyone ordering him around, but there was something about the stranger’s commanding and intimidating presence that stopped him in his tracks. That, and the way the stranger’s hand rested so familiarly on his gun. Paul took a step backward, but he didn’t release Francie. In fact, his hold on her tightened.
    “Maybe you didn’t hear me—” Grant repeated threateningly as he moved even closer. “I told you to let her go.”
    Francie stared up at the stranger in complete surprise. She didn’t know who he was, but she was thrilled he’d showed up at this moment. She sensed Paul’s sudden uncertainty about the situation, and she took full advantage of it, tearing herself free of his hold and distancing herself from him.
    Mark had managed to knock Rick to the ground again, and he looked over in his friend’s direction now to see what was going on. He, too, was surprised by the unknown man’s interference. Heturned on the stranger and thought about going for his own gun, just to show him who was in control of the situation.
    “Don’t do it,” Grant dictated. He’d dealt with this kind before and knew exactly what the other drunk was thinking.
    “Who are you?” Paul demanded, still not backing down.
    But before Grant could answer him, the crowd that had been watching from the doorway parted, and Grant saw an older man come rushing outside, followed closely by two women.
    “What’s going on out here?” Fred demanded, rightfully outraged by the sight that greeted him. “Francie?”
    She ran to her father as he looked from the two drunken cowboys to the stranger, who had gone to help Rick to his feet.
    “Oh, Papa—Paul forced me out here with him and Rick came to help me—” She hurried over to Rick’s side as he stood with the other man. “Thank heaven, this gentleman showed up when he did.” Francie looked up at the tall, darkly handsome man, wondering who he was. She knew she would have remembered him if she’d seen him before.
    Fred turned on Paul, his manner menacing. “Don’t you ever go near my daughter again! Do you understand me?”
    Paul ignored the older man as he faced the stranger. “I ain’t done with you yet, stranger—”
    Grant betrayed no emotion as he said calmly and coldly, “Oh, yes, you are.”
    Paul muttered something vile under his breath. He glared menacingly at the stranger for a moment longer and then stalked off into the night, leaving Mark to follow.

Chapter Seven
    Dusty had rushed from the dance hall with Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds, and when she saw that Francie appeared to be in some kind of trouble, her first instinct had been to jump right in and help her friend. She would have, too, had Mrs. Reynolds not caught her by the arm and held her back.
    “Stay here—Let the men handle it!” the older woman had ordered.
    Only then had Dusty realized that, dressed in a delicate gown as she was, she