Jars stuffed with sliced beets lined the worktable. Thea stirred her boiling vinegar mixture and poured the pungent liquid into each jar, her apron wrapped around the pan's handle.
"Thea-girl?" her father called from the other room. "Someone here to see you."
Thea wiped her beet-stained hands on her apron and removed it. Who would pay an evening visit? She never had any callers. She stepped into the parlor.
Booker Hayes rose from the sofa.
"Miss." His black hair was freshly combed. A clean white shirt accentuated the breadth of his shoulders and the tanned skin at his open collar.
"Mr. Hayes." She tried not to gape at him, and hid her stained hands behind her back. She hadn't prepared herself to see him so soon. She'd imagined various scenarios; running into him in town or facing him and his niece at church, but she surely hadn't expected the man to show up in her parlor! "What can I do for you?" she inquired, and remembered asking the same thing the first time they'd met.
"I'd like to talk to you." He skimmed a palm nervously down his denim-clad thigh. "If you don't mind."
Jim Coulson rose from his chair. "I'll just go—"
"No, Papa. Stay there. Mr. Hayes and I can talk on the porch."
He held the door for her. She sat in the wooden swing, and he sat on the railing. His horse munched grass at the edge of the yard. Moonlight glistened off Booker's ebony hair and outlined his cleanly shaven rigid jaw. A soft summer breeze carried the scent of bay rum to her nostrils.
"I don't quite know how to say this," he said at length.
Fear pierced Thea's chest. "Zoe?" she asked. "Is something wrong with Zoe?"
He turned his face away, silhouetting his strong profile against the moonlit yard. She saw him swallow.
"Mr. Hayes, what is it? Is she sick? Hurt?" She clenched her fists in her lap and leaned forward.
"No." He faced her. "Nothing like that." He cleared his throat. "I have a proposition for you."
He had her interest. "What kind of proposition?"
"I can't take care of her by myself. I have to build a house and a mill. I can't cook and wash and work from morning ‘til night, too."
A thousand questions skittered through Thea's mind. Did he mean to give Zoe back, then? Didn't he want her, after all? Had he changed his mind? "What do you want from me?"
"I'd be willing to pay you to help with those things," he replied.
Anger throbbed to life. She averted her face and set her lips in a firm line. "You want a housekeeper?" she asked, her voice rising on the last syllables. "It's downright cruel of you to ask me." She stood. "You must know how I feel about Zoe, yet you've come to rub salt in the wound. What kind of torture is this?"
"No." He was before her in an instant. "It's not like that at all." He grasped her arms above her elbows and examined her face. "I know I probably acted rashly, but I never set out to hurt you or Zoe. It was just unfortunate that you'd taken to Zoe before I got here."
Thea snorted and tried to pull away. "Unfortunate," she said flatly.
Her strength was no match for his, and he held her in place with a firm grasp. "Listen."
Thea raised her chin, her exasperation unsoothed. "So my unfortunate connection qualifies me to be your maid?"
A long, tense moment passed. His hands loosened on her arms. "No. Zoe's connection to you qualifies you to take care of her like I can't. She won't have anything to do with me." His tone had changed, an almost cool detachment she sensed he needed to project. He released her, but the warmth from his hands remained. He wanted Zoe to love him, and her rejection had to hurt. "I'm asking for your help," he said gently.
Thea remained facing him, close enough to touch, close enough to catch his freshly bathed masculine scent. She hoped he couldn't smell the vinegar she was surely saturated with. His voice sent a strange heat coursing through her veins.
"I think you want to be near her badly enough to agree," he continued. "You can spend as much time with her as you like for as long as you like. I won't interfere with your relationship. Just come help me take care of her."
"Come... to your place?"
He nodded in the darkness. "Bringing her here would only delay her adjustment. She'll be living with me. She has to get used to that—and to me."
Her vexation waned. His reasoning seemed sound enough. But she was torn. Self-preservation told her to refuse, run back inside her comfortable home and resume her safe, spinsterly duties. She had responsibilities she couldn't duck out of on a whim.
"What about me?" Thea asked. "What will happen to me if you get married?"
"Well..." He didn't seem to have an answer. "I don't know. Who can say? By then, Zoe may be old enough to get married herself."
Torn, she dropped her head back and gazed sightlessly at the porch ceiling. "I don't know." Thea weighed the pleasure of being part of Zoe's life against the pain of another separation.
Thea considered her future. One of these days she would own a great deal of land herself. Her Aunt Odessa and Uncle Adler's land would be divided between her and MaryRuth. And a share of her father's property was hers, as well. Her half sisters, not wishing to live out here, would sell her their shares. She'd be a landowner in her own right. She had her own life.
A lonely landowner. A lonely life, her heart intoned silently. She was securing her future with property, not people.
"My father depends on me," she said at last. Did he think she had nothing to do all day long?
"Zoe depends on you, too," he said.
She shot her attention back to his face.
"She needs you to be a mother to her."
His words effectively cut through her objections. Mentally, Thea scrambled to reconstruct her defenses. Was he playing fair? Could he see motherhood was something she'd always wanted? Even knowing how much she could be hurt in the process, Thea wanted to jump at the chance to be Zoe's mother.
"She hasn't eaten for three days," Booker said, playing his trump. "I don't know what to do."
Three days! An ache seized her heart for the little girl who was too miserable even to eat. She searched Hayes's eyes, black in the darkness.
He'd seemed so confident, so sure he knew what he was doing the first time she'd met him. This glimpse of vulnerability was almost harder to deal with. In all fairness, it had taken considerable strength of character for him to come to her after all that had gone before.
Her posture relaxed. A cricket chirped from the end of the porch. He deserved credit for his honesty, too. "Give me your word that if you get married, neither you or your wife will keep me from Zoe."
"You have my word." He stood, the moon a halo behind his head and shoulders. "Just to be fair, I should point out that I'm getting the best end of this deal."
What kind of man was this? What was she letting herself in for now? "Perhaps that's a matter of opinion."
"What will your father say?"
She smiled. "A lot, but it will end with 'Thea-girl, I hope you know what you're getting yourself into. But you do what you have to.'"
"I like your father."
The man was a good judge of people. "So do I."
"Can you come in the morning?"
"I'll talk it over with him tonight."
He stepped back. "You won't be sorry."
Oh, yes, I will. I'll be sorrier than you'll ever know. But I'll do it, anyway. She watched him walk to his horse with a broad-shouldered, lean-hipped gait. He took his hat from the saddle horn and settled it on his head, touching the brim in a parting salute. "Miss."
The enormous beast carried him into the night.
Be careful, Thea. There's more at stake here than you can afford to gamble with. Oh, no. She wouldn't let him get to her. She'd learned her lesson well. But she couldn't turn aside this opportunity to be with Zoe. She'd just have to be careful.
bookmark:Chapter 5
Chapter 5
image:flourish.png
"Thea-girl," her father said the next morning, "I hope you k
now what you're gettin' yourself into. But you do what you have to."
Thea hugged him soundly and gathered her packed basket and hat.
"Madeline will help with dinner today," her father said. "I'll see if MaryRuth can come at suppertime. Denzel eats here, anyhow."
Thea faltered at the doorway, imagining Madeline preparing the noon meal. "I left bread for today. Tell Madeline we'll make more tonight."
Her father pushed her onto the sunny porch. "Go."
"This feels so strange, Papa."
He gave her a wry grin. "You have to live your own life, Thea. We'll get by."
The dew had already burned off the grass. She strode across it and waved from atop the rust brown mare he'd saddled for her. He was right. If she'd married when other women did, she'd have been gone ten years ago.
The day was pleasant, a lazy, sun-warmed morning, with puffy white clouds against a pale sky. Grasshoppers sprung out of the dry weeds in front of the mare. Thea enjoyed the ride, something she never took time to do simply for pleasure.
She'd never seen the soddy the Wynns had lived in, but she'd ridden the property line often and immediately recognized the planted bean field that signaled the place was just to the west. The primitive homestead struck her with a twinge of nostalgia. While her mother was alive, she, MaryRuth and their father had lived similarly.
Mr. Hayes's ebony stallion cropped grass nearby. He nodded and flicked an ear in interest as she passed. "Hello!" she called out to the soddy. "Hello?"
Mr. Hayes ducked beneath the doorframe. "You came," he said, and reached for the bridle.
Thea swung her leg over the horse's rump and alighted, smoothing her riding skirt. She watched his gaze flick over her wide-brimmed hat. "I'm here."
"How long can you stay?"
His top shirt buttons were undone, and her gaze faltered over softly curling black hair. She'd never been distracted by a man's chest before. Startled at herself, she immediately brought her attention back to his face. "All day. Until after supper, anyway. I'll ride back before dark."
Relief passed over his tired features. "I'll unsaddle your mare. Go on." He nodded. "Zoe's inside."
Thea stepped through the open doorway. Her eyes adjusted to the semidarkness, and she scanned the tidy room, finding Zoe on a cot against the wall. Tossing her hat on the table, she flew to the narrow bed. "Hey, darlin'. Look who's come to see you."
Zoe turned her head at the sound of her voice.
Thea sat beside her and touched her face. "Hi."
The expression that washed over the child’s cherubic face caught at Thea's heartstrings. Her tiny chin quivered, and she threw herself into Thea's arms. Thea folded Zoe against her breast and pressed her face into her hair.
They sat that way a long time, Thea rocking her in a soothing rhythm. "I've missed you," she said at last.
Zoe pulled back, and her blue gaze pored over Thea's face and hair. She raised a hand to touch her cheek, as though making sure Thea was real.
"Your uncle says I can see you whenever I want from now on." Thea attempted to thread her fingers through the hair at Zoe's temple. "That means I'll be here every day. Would you like that?"
Zoe nodded.
"Me, too. First thing we'd better do is get a brush through your hair. My goodness!"
"She hasn't let me brush it for a couple of days."
They both turned toward the door at the sound of Mr. Hayes's voice. He took a few steps into the room, his face carefully devoid of expression. "Looks like you two will be all right if I leave now."
Thea glanced around the room, almost embarrassed. Zoe's obvious preference could easily become a sore spot with the man. "I think so."
"You'll find the supplies. There's a barrel of salt pork in the corner. Firewood and cobs behind the lean-to."
She stood, and Zoe clung to her skirt. "Will you be here at noon?"
He shifted his weight. "Look, Miss Coulson—"
"You might as well call me Thea."
"All right. Thea. I don't expect you to cater to my needs. Just hers." He indicated his niece with a nod.
"Her needs and yours are quite similar at dinnertime, Mr. Hayes. I'll be cooking. You might as well eat."
He seemed to absorb that thought. "Okay. My hired hand will be here, too." He headed for the door and turned back at the last minute. "And it's Booker."
He stooped under the doorway and was gone.
Booker. She couldn't help herself. She gave the room a curious once-over, studied his jacket on a wall peg, and noticed a dusty pair of boots beside the door. A cot like Zoe's lay along the opposite wall, but her attention focused on the iron bed on the back wall. Booker. A thousand tiny moth wings fluttered in her belly. Increasing intimacy with this man did not reflect her decision to be careful.
She spent the better part of an hour brushing and washing Zoe's hair. They sat in the sun to dry it, perched on stools she brought from the soddy.
She took inventory of the food and decided to bake bread before the day grew any hotter. Inside the soddy it was surprisingly comfortable, even though the Nebraska sun beat down mercilessly. Thea peeled and sliced an apple and sat Zoe at the table. To her immense relief, the little girl nibbled on the fruit as Thea worked.
"I'm going to get some wood for the stove." She headed for the door. Zoe hopped down and followed.
Talking to Zoe while rounding the corner of the lean-to, Thea ran smack into a rock-solid, naked chest. Muscled copper arms reached for her. With a shriek, she threw her hands up and fell back, knocking Zoe to the ground with her. They fell in a tangled heap in the dirt. The stranger leaned over her, a hank of straight black hair falling over his shoulder. The curved yellow tooth dangling from a rawhide thong around his neck swung within an inch of her nose.
Thea's heart hammered wildly in her chest. Shielding Zoe with her body, she gaped up at the craggy-faced Indian.
"Sorry, ma'am. I thought you saw me there," he said in perfect English. "You all right?"
Thea scrambled to her feet, righted Zoe and brushed off both their skirts. "Yes. We're fine. I didn't know anyone was out here."
"The major's been expecting me." He offered his hand for her to shake. "Red Horse."
Considering his good manners, the open vest only partially covering his hairless, bronze chest could have been a business suit. She took his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mr.—Red Horse. I'm Thea Coulson, and this is Zoe Galloway."
The Indian knelt and peered into Zoe's face. "The major's niece," he clarified.
Zoe plastered herself to Thea's leg, keeping the Indian under close observation.
"I have a gift for you." The stranger opened a drawstring pouch at his waist and removed a handcrafted piece of jewelry.
To Thea's surprise, Zoe leaned forward and allowed him to slip the beaded necklace over her head. She inspected it at close range on her chest, then glanced back up.
He stood. "Where is the major?"
"Mr. Hayes is working on his house. It's about a quarter mile northwest."
Red Horse raised one hand and loped to a pinto waiting behind the lean-to. Thea shook her head and watched him ride off. Major Hayes?
* * *
The sun was high in the sky when Booker returned with his friend. They washed at the basin outside before stepping into the comparatively cool soddy. His mouth watered at the aroma of freshly baked bread. Moving a pile of clothing from an extra bench, he brought it to the table. "You met Red Horse."
Thea bustled between the stove and table, placing sliced bread and bowls of steaming stew in front of them. "Yes. We met." Her self-conscious gaze skittered to Red Horse's face and away. "Are you the hired hand Mr. Hayes mentioned?"
"No," Booker answered for him and glanced toward the open door. "I don't know what happened to that boy. He was beside us one minute and gone the next." Lucas had been enthralled with Red Horse, dogging his heels all morning. Booker couldn't imagine where he'd suddenly taken off to.
"I was an army scou
t," Red Horse supplied. "Took my leave same time as the major."
Across the table, Zoe's attention never left Thea. She ignored the food on her plate until Thea sat beside her and placed a napkin in her lap. Following the woman's example, Zoe unfolded her napkin, draped it across her knees and picked up her spoon. With complacency, she scooped up a carrot and chewed.
The sight set Booker's mind at ease in one respect; she was eating. On the other hand, Thea's ability to accomplish in one morning what he'd tried to do for three days nettled him. He chewed a bite of warm, buttered bread and reconciled himself to let well enough alone. The woman had done what he'd asked her here to do.
"I'll pack a lunch for the hand," she offered.
He regarded her striking strawberry blond hair and the easygoing smile that curved her generous lips, and glimpsed a streak of flour on her neck when she turned to butter Zoe's bread.
Rest satisfied, Hayes. Winning Zoe over was going to take some time. And after all, he had plenty of it. For the first time he could remember, he wasn't going anywhere.
* * *
The hired hand didn't show for supper, either. Thea covered a plate of food with a napkin and left it on the table. She wiped her hands on a dish towel, noted the growing pile of laundry with a sigh and gathered her basket and hat.
Immediately, Zoe grasped her hand. Thea glanced down at her worried face and knelt. "I'll be back in the morning, Zoe," she promised, taking her shoulders gently. "I have to go home to sleep, but I'll come back first thing tomorrow. Honest. Probably as soon as you're awake. You get up and wash and dress, and I'll be here, okay?"
Zoe didn't look appeased. Thea glanced at Mr. Hayes, waiting by the door. "I'll ride with you," he said.
"But, Zoe..." she objected.
"Red Horse will be here."
"She doesn't know the man," Thea said gently, knowing the Indian waited just outside.
"She already likes him better than she does me."
Unfortunately, she couldn't argue with that, though the idea of Zoe being here with a stranger didn't set easily.
Land of Dreams Page 7