by Caroline Lee
Nate didn’t have to think long. “Seven, or there abouts. Ash says I was pretty scrawny, so he never was sure.”
Molly thought about a child Annie’s age walking all this distance from Cheyenne. “But we’ve been riding for hours! However did you manage it?”
Nate’s hat was pulled down over his forehead and ears, and his collar turned up against the cold, but she could see the sparkle in his eyes, knowing he had her attention. “It’s shorter by horse, but probably two days walking. I think it took me about four.”
“Four days?”
“Yes, ma’am. I remember wishing I’d stolen a horse instead of the food I had. I’d forgotten to take water, though, which is what almost did me in. I was lucky it didn’t rain, though, because I was following the tracks Ash’d made on his way back.”
The normally silent man spoke up, his rumble startling her. “You were lucky in a lot of ways, back then.”
Nate laughed. “I could’ve run into any number of dangerous animals, or bandits, or wandered off the trail and starved. But I didn’t, probably because I was too stupid to be scared.”
Molly risked a glance at the man beside her. “And you let him stay, once he found you?”
He shook his head. “He was a half-day from death when I found him, riding fence one afternoon. Spring’s a busy time for me, and I couldn’t afford to lug him back to town. So I let him stay ‘til he was better, and then he started doing chores, and then he got more useful, and by the time I had a break, I decided he wasn’t so bad to have around.”
Nate spoke up again. “Ash didn’t like company much back then, but I can be pretty handy to have around. All I knew was that he’d saved me twice—and a few more times since then—and I wasn’t going to let him get rid of me, not if I could help it. I started calling myself ‘Barker’ too, and after that he was pretty much stuck with me.”
And so they’d become a family, each the only one the other had. Their hard work ensured the ranch’s success, and they’d become invested in the other’s happiness as well. Why, it was such a sweet story, Molly found herself getting weepy just thinking about it, and had to change the subject.
She didn’t quite feel like weeping when she first caught sight of the ranch, but it was a close thing. She hadn’t known what to expect, but this wouldn’t have been it, even if she could guess. The cabin was squat and ugly, made of rough-hewn logs and what looked like mud, although it could be some sort of plaster. There was a long porch on the front, that connected to a series of outbuildings—goodness, she’d have to go outside to use the necessary!—and real glass in the windows. But otherwise it was drab and unappealing, and that included the barns. There was a large one where the brothers said the horses were stabled, the ones that hadn’t been sold off in the fall. And the smaller, farther one held the equipment. Ash dropped her and her trunks off on the porch before turning the sleigh in that direction.
It gave her a moment to survey her new temporary home. From the porch, she had to change her perspective. The view was actually quite stunning, with the unbroken snow-covered hills and distant mountains. The barns and outbuildings even looked rather quaint, once she saw them from the porch. Feeling a little better about the ranch, she went inside.
Ash had obviously devoted his attention to the inside of his home, rather than the outside. The house was small, but comfortable, and full of little touches that showed the man had lived there for many years. On their long ride to the house, Ash had explained—in answer to her question—that he’d built the house back when Cheyenne was Crow Creek Crossing, and only a few dozen people lived there. He used to hunt for the army base at Laramie, and spent his winters in solitude here, improving his home. When Nate arrived, they’d added an extra room together.
There was a kitchen area to her left; not a separate room, like she was used to, but divided from the main room by the kitchen table. She was thrilled to discover it had most of the modern conveniences she was used to, which would make her job much easier. There were two long counters, with cabinets above and below, and a deep wash basin. Two windows, on either side of the stove, would provide plenty of light and ventilation, if it ever got warm enough to warrant opening them. The stove itself was wood-burning, which shouldn’t surprise her, but had an actual Auxiliary Air-Chamber, a new invention that would make baking much easier.
The main room had a large fireplace along the back wall, and a heavy mantel above it. There were two comfortable chairs placed in front of it on a beautiful braided rug, and a small table between them. The back door stood directly opposite the front, and there were two closed doors off either side of the main room; Molly assumed those were the brothers’ bedrooms. A small staircase led up the back wall to a loft that covered half the main room. From where she stood she couldn’t see anything up there.
The house was simple, but messy. There were dishes piled in the sink and on the table, and dust on the surfaces that didn’t see much use. Ash hadn’t been joking when he said his arm had seriously hampered his housekeeping abilities. But it wasn’t anything a few hours with a broom and rag couldn’t fix, and suddenly, Molly was excited to start this new adventure. Yes, she’d left behind everything she knew, and had traveled halfway across the country, and had accepted a job she’d never considered… but wasn’t it all thrilling? She resisted the urge to spin around the room, but couldn’t help the big smile that spread across her face. She was going to make sure this house stayed neat and orderly, and her new employers were well-fed, and she’d make a home for her sisters. And, by God, they were all finally going to have the Christmas they deserved.
The next morning Ash woke up to the smell of flapjacks. It took him a bit to figure that one out, since it’d never happened before. He’d lived alone for so long, and now Nate waited for him to wake up and get breakfast going. Hell, usually he had to prod the kid out of bed; it wasn’t like he was likely to get up first and make flapjacks.
Ash was halfway to the door before he remembered that he’d hired a housekeeper, the intriguing Miss Murray. No, she’d given him permission to call her Molly, now, although he doubted that wisdom. It was probably safer to keep calling her ‘Miss Murray’, to keep some space between them. It might have been smarter, but for some reason he didn’t think with his brain around her. What other excuse did he have for inviting a virtual stranger into his home for the whole winter? Especially such an appealing stranger, who was bringing two more kids along, as well? It was possibly one of the stupidest decisions he’d made, and he couldn’t be happier about it.
Thinking about Molly reminded him that she probably wouldn’t appreciate him barging into the main room wearing just a pair of long johns. At least his arm had healed enough for him to dress himself, though, and he struggled into a pair of jeans and pulled a shirt on. He could button it all the way up if he had to, but it was much easier to just leave the top few undone. Still, he was focused on the lower buttons when he padded barefoot into the main room.
The first thing he noticed was the fire, cheerful and cozy in the hearth. He and Nate rarely lit a fire in the morning, until the coldest part of the season, making do with extra layers. They just didn’t have the inclination to set it, light it, and then bank it while they worked out in the barn during the day. But seeing it lit, spilling cheery light and delicious warmth through the room, reminded him of why he’d always liked the coldest part of the winter. It was special, the way a house and holding could wrap around a man, the snow itself cushioning him from the outside world, leaving him as an island of warmth and contentment.
And the cause of that unexpected contentment was bustling around the kitchen, a long apron over her dressing gown, her hair in a loose braid down her back. It was curlier than he’d guessed, having only seen it up in a bun, and he was impressed she’d managed to contain it all. In fact, he was impressed by a lot of things when it came to Molly Murray, not least of which was how delicious she looked while fixing him flapjacks. She looked like she came straight from be
d.
Thinking about her in bed had kept him up late the night before. By the time they’d gotten the horses settled, and the mustangs run, and her trunks inside, it was late. She’d already straightened up the main room and the kitchen, and it looked nicer than it had since… well, probably since before Nate had moved in. He knew she must have been exhausted by her early morning and the cold ride, but she’d still attacked the mess with a wet towel, and even had a spot of dirt on her cheek. He just barely resisted the urge to wipe it off.
The night before, they had a quiet supper of leftovers the hotel had sent along, and then took Molly up to the loft to inspect it. It was dustier than he’d remembered—it hadn’t really been used since they built Nate his own room years ago—but she said she’d set it to rights soon enough. Nate had managed to dig out the old bed Ash’d made for him when he’d first arrived; it was a shorter version than the full-sized bed the kid slept in now, and they’d stuck the old one up in the loft and forgot about it. It was too short for Molly, but assuming her sisters weren’t as tall as her, it might work for them. For now, he helped Nate pull the feather-ticking off the rope frame and lay it on the wooden floor for Molly, and dug out a bunch of quilts for her to use. She’d thanked them profusely, told them she’d be able to make do, and shooed them downstairs.
He’d said goodnight to her, and then lay there in bed thinking about her sleeping upstairs, wondering what he’d gotten himself in to. He couldn’t help but remember the way she’d cuddled up next to him on the sleigh, and how hard it’d been not to reach his arm around her to pull her closer. If his other arm hadn’t been in the sling, and had been able to hold the reins, he might have given in to the temptation. To keep her warm, of course.
The woman was all kinds of temptation, with those big brown eyes, and deep dimples, and breasts—he’d tried not to stare when he’d seen her without the coat—that could keep a man busy for hours. She was big all over, and matched him perfectly. Having her here with him on the ranch, no ‘proper society’ to keep him in check, it was only a matter of time before he kissed her, to see how perfectly they did match.
This morning, sitting down at the table and having her lay a plate of fresh flapjacks in front of him, he decided that he was pretty well pleased with himself for hiring her. And when she’d ladled some of the sugary syrup out of the warming pot onto his stack of ‘jacks, he just about crowed with pleasure. He was thinking he didn’t mind being pampered, and maybe he wouldn’t push his arm to heal all that fast.
The sun wasn’t even up behind the cabin when Nate peeked out of his bedroom, his suspicious gaze easing into a smile when he saw it was Molly making breakfast. He’d taken the time to pull on his boots before coming out, but was still buttoning up his shirt. That fact didn’t seem to faze Molly; but when Ash had walked into the room, her eyes fixed on the dark curls peaking from beneath the flannel, and her blush had been fierce. It made him warm, to catch her staring at him.
She joined them for breakfast, after he’d insisted, and they talked about plans for the day. She was hoping to have time to straighten the loft for her and her sisters, and he told her to just go ahead and do that first. He’d been a bit embarrassed by its state yesterday, and would be happier if he knew she had a decent place of her own. He promised to send Nate up with some nails and a small rope, to stretch across the front, so she could hang up some quilts for privacy. She thanked Ash with a smile, and he discovered that he’d happily do chores to make her smile again.
She’d asked about their habits and eating schedule on the ranch. Since there was rarely anyone there but the two of them, they’d settled into a rut, and she was happy enough to join them. They woke up with the sun, unless there was a reason to get up earlier, and made breakfast after their morning chores. Molly seemed thrilled to discover those included milking the cow and collecting eggs, so she’d have those fresh for breakfast.
After breakfast they’d head out to the barns and whatever tasks they had for the day. There was a lot less to do on the ranch in the winter; in the spring there was the big push to catch wild horses, and in the autumn they sold the previous year’s work. Most of their horses went to the army at Fort Laramie, but they were gaining a reputation in Cheyenne as providers of fine horseflesh. During the winter they had a much lower stock, and less to do. They spent their time on all the fix-it projects they were too busy to tackle during the year. During the coldest part of the season, sometimes they only left the house a few times a day to check on the horses, and otherwise spent their time inside. Usually during January or so, Ash would clear out some space in the back part of the main room, and start his building projects; the furniture in the room, and the house itself in some aspects, were a result of his tinkering during the cold months.
They tended to like their big meal towards the end of the afternoon, with a big breakfast making them last ‘til then. Molly was happy to oblige their preferences, and promised that since she’d spent four years cooking breakfasts for hotel guests in Chicago, they’d be pleased with her selections. They left for the barn with her deep in consideration over planned meals.
Dinner that first day didn’t appear remarkable at first glance—just a beef stew and some bread—but Ash changed his opinion after his first bite. The woman could cook. She’d taken ingredients that he’d used hundreds of times before, and even spices that he’d recognized, and combined them in some way that tasted new and interesting. It tasted the way he imagined a real, home-cooked meal would taste, even though he didn’t have anything to compare it to. He’d been dumped at the orphanage in St. Louis so young that he didn’t remember whatever home he might have had, and then he’d lit out for the western territories as soon as he was able. But this meal tasted like something someone’s mother might make.
Which is when Ash gave up on thinking of Molly as his housekeeper, and started wondering if she’d be amenable to something more permanent. When she first stood up to him in the street, trying to protect Nate, Ash had been intrigued. He rarely met a woman as tall and sturdy-looking as she was, and definitely not one who would could stand up to him. Then, when he got to know her, he was intrigued by her determination and her unexpected softness. He offered her the job because she needed it, and because they needed another set of hands out on the ranch. It was a purely logical decision to have her work for them, and he tried to convince himself that his attraction to her made no difference. And now he found himself thinking that having her around his house all the time might be pretty nice. He valued his privacy, but he was finding that he valued the way she made him feel even more. Hell, he’d only known the woman a few days, and he was thinking about asking her to stay past the winter?
It took another few days before he admitted the truth; he was seriously thinking about asking her to stay forever.
CHAPTER FIVE
By her second week on the ranch, Molly felt at home. And not just ‘at home’ because she knew where everything was, or because she’d cleaned everything she could reach, or because she had been granted complete control over the kitchen. No, she really and truly felt like she was home. She felt more ‘at home’ here in this simple house than she had since they’d lost their townhome to creditors after the fire. The apartment she’d shared with her sisters had never been more than a place to collapse after a long day’s work, and had never been filled with the smiles and laughter the ranch was.
Who would have thought it? Her first sight of Ash Barker had scared her; he’d been big and burly and so… so manly, striding down the street in anger. But she had no reason to be scared of him. The man was startling at first glance, certainly, but he was kind to her, and had a gentleness in his eyes that she found herself contemplating more than necessary. Certainly, the man was reserved, but not somber; he had a great, booming laugh that had startled her the first time she’d joined in Nate’s joking. And Ash’s smiles? Whew! They were… well, they made her feel quite warm, for some reason.
She spent her days in the house, bu
t Ash didn’t seem to mind when she joined them in the barn to visit the horses. She wasn’t fond of the large animals, but when she saw how well Ash and Nate had trained them, she grew less nervous. Still, she didn’t venture out often, mainly because of the weather. For some reason, it seemed so much colder in Cheyenne than in Chicago. Nate laughed when she mentioned it, and told her it was probably because there were no tall buildings around to block the wind. Her first task, after cleaning the house and fixing up the loft, had been to start cutting the thick blue wool. While she would have liked a new coat herself, she knew she needed to get one made for Annie before the delicate little girl arrived. She’d never had anything worse than the German Measles, but she was so frail that she seemed to attract every cold that came her way. Molly couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen her sister not sniffling into a handkerchief.
She was careful not to neglect her employers for her sewing, though. She’d been flattered by their praise of her first dinner, and recognized that she’d impressed Ash. But when she presented them with her first dessert, a simple sweet potato pie, she didn’t quite understand the look that came to Ash’s face. He was staring at the fireplace, but not really looking at it, not even chewing the bite he’d taken off his fork. When she’d asked him if it tasted alright, he’d hastily swallowed and nodded. His grin looked forced, though, and he looked at her oddly for the rest of the meal.
Since that dinner, and their reactions, she’d put extra effort into making their meals delicious, focusing on the foods and flavors she was coming to know that they liked. Nate, for instance, was more adventurous with his tastes, while Ash was suspicious of anything he hadn’t tried before. So far, he’d liked everything ‘new’ she’d prepared, but she was taking it slow; she’d save the fancy French sauces for later in the winter.