by Jillian Hart
The town was dark, mostly asleep at this hour. Only a few windows glowed with lamplight. As the deputies accompanying him rode in different directions, heading home, only Tucker stayed by his side.
“You have to be worrying over pretty Mrs. Bauer, right, big brother?”
“Corinthos has been known to kill witnesses to his crimes. Like a lot of outlaws in these parts.”
“Montana isn’t the most civilized of territories, that’s for sure.” Tucker reined in his mount at the livery. “I’ll volunteer for the night duty. Barstow can’t guard Anna all day and all night.”
“I was going to take the night shift.”
“Don’t worry about it. A bridegroom needs his rest.” Tucker dismounted. “I’ll guard your fiancée.”
“She’s not my fiancée.” Cooper swung to the ground. His joints ached from the cold and long hours in the saddle. “I’m not a bridegroom and I don’t need rest.”
“Of course you’re not.” Tucker knocked off the rain collecting on his hat brim. “You’re too tough for romance.”
“Damn right I am.”
“Go home, big brother. Make sure my nieces are tucked in for the night.”
He wasn’t going to argue. Cooper headed home, knowing he could trust his brother to keep watch over Anna. As he headed down Maple Street, he saw lamplight in an upstairs window of the hotel. He thought of her, thought of how nice it had felt when he’d held her hand.
No doubt about it, he was lonely. Sure, he watched couples in town, noticed those who looked happy and those who did not. Wondered what made a marriage last, what made love stay. He didn’t know.
His house was quiet. Laura was asleep on the sofa, the fire nothing but embers in the hearth. He knelt beside her. Yep, she was out for the night. With care, he gathered her in his arms and carried her upstairs.
He laid her down on his bed and covered her with the afghan on the back of the chair. He would take the couch for the night. His sister, who had survived taking care of Katie and Maisie for a whole day, ought to at least sleep in a bed. Tomorrow she would need her energy.
The thought of his girls warmed him, chased away the cold deep inside. He pushed open their bedroom door. Shadows filled the room. Rain sluiced down the dark window, drummed on the roof overhead.
Maisie stirred. “Papa, is that you?”
“Guilty as charged.” He crossed the room, nearly tripping on the tea party set scattered on the rug. “You’re supposed to be asleep.”
“I’m tryin’.” She sighed heavily.
“Where’s Harry Bunny? You can’t sleep without him.”
“I done gave him away.” Maisie rolled over on her side to face him. “Laura and me saw Anna today. Her hurt little girl ain’t gonna be my sister either, huh?”
“No, she isn’t.”
“She can keep Harry Bunny anyway. I’m all grown up. I don’t need him no more.”
“You gave your bunny to Mandy?”
“Yep.”
“That was a good thing you did, Maisie.” Cooper’s chest filled. “I know I’m not as good as Harry Bunny, but I can give you a hug so you can go to sleep.”
“Aw, Papa. You’re better than my bunny.”
“Why’s that?”
“Cuz you still got your hair. Harry’s bald.”
So Cooper was laughing when he took his littlest girl in his arms and gave her a good-night hug.
“My, your little girl is improving.” Janet Briggs looked down at Mandy in obvious fondness. “Look at her. Soon she’ll be running just like a child should.”
“Thanks to your good cooking.” Anna squinted against the afternoon sun. “It’s good of you to let her play in your yard.”
“This is where my children played when they were young.” Janet stopped her sweeping, mopped her brow. “Oh, what fun we had when they were small. This yard behind the inn is fenced and safe, not up against the street like the front. Just right for a child to run around in and work off some of her energy.”
“I have to talk to you about the hotel bill. We’ve been here a while. I owe you some money. I can’t let you think—”
“Why, the sheriff is paying for your stay.”
“That’s what I have to talk to you about. Cooper is going above the call of duty making sure Mandy is taken care of, but she’s better now. I can start worrying about other things, like paying for the roof over our heads, finding a job.”
“Goodness, you have such a sense of independence, don’t you?”
“Mrs. Briggs, I know—”
“Janet Call me Janet,” the pleasant woman mvited.
“I know you are under the mistaken impression that Cooper and I are getting married. But we aren’t.”
“You’ve changed your mind?”
“Well, no. You see—”
“Goodness, this is terrible news. Does Laura know you’ve canceled your plans to marry her brother?”
“I—I never actually had them to cancel in the first place,” Anna stammered. Heavens, telling the truth never used to be so difficult.
“You’re not going to marry Cooper?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Hmm.” Janet studied her, forehead crinkled, mouth pursed. “You wouldn’t happen to be looking for work, would you?”
“Are you still short-handed?”
“You come down to the kitchen tomorrow morning, if your little one is still doing well. You can keep an eye on her and work at the same time. It will be no trouble at all.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Briggs.” She never expected such an opportunity, such a good solution to her problems. “Come on, Mandy. We have an errand to run.”
The little girl ambled over to her, adorable in her strawberry dress and matching bonnet handed down from Maisie. Mandy’s blond curls shimmered in the sun and when she looked up, her eyes were bright. “We goin’ to see Maisie now?”
“Yes, we are.” Anna took her little girl’s hand. “Thanks again, Janet.”
The innkeeper gave the back porch a sweep with her broom. “Don’t you give up on our sheriff now, you hear?”
Chapter Eight
Cooper strolled in his front door that evening with great expectations. Mrs. Beasely had started just that morning, answering the advertisement he’d placed in the local paper. She’d been working on a ranch in the outlying area and had never heard of Katie Braddock. She took the job he offered her, claiming to be the best cook in Flint Creek County.
“Papa, Papa, come quick!” Maisie launched herself across the floor. Desperate fingers gripped his own. “Katie’s in real big trouble.”
“What did she do this time?” He had extracted a vow from his oldest daughter to behave. Laura had to prepare for her wedding. She couldn’t spend all day doing housework and cooking for them.
He stepped over the play tea party in progress on his parlor floor and headed straight to the kitchen. He heard a loud angry voice, then the sharp rise of a very familiar one. He burst into the room. “What is going on here?”
“You have an undisciplined daughter, that’s what.” A red-faced woman turned to face him, caught in the act of taking a wooden spoon from the drawer. “When I tell that girl to do a chore for me, I expect her to do it.”
“But I’m paying you to do all the chores around here, Mrs. Beasely.” Cooper tamped down his anger, although the sight of Katie’s face, pinched, her eyes filled with stubborn tears, made him nearly lose control.
“That’s what’s wrong with the girl. No discipline.” A vein in the severe woman’s temple stood out, pulsing with her anger. “Do you know what I had to put up with today?”
“No, but I have some idea.” He shot a warning look at his daughter.
“Your littlest one ran around like a wild thing all morning. Then she spilled apple juice all over the floor trying to make a doll drink from a cup.”
“Maybe I should have been more clear when I hired you. I expect my girls to play. They are children.”
“Children ough
t to be treated like little adults, with responsibilities and punishments. Why, look at this one. She brought a snake in the house—”
“Not on purpose.” Katie’s chin went up; she was telling the truth. “I forgot it was in my pocket.”
“It leaped out from beneath the table and flicked its tongue at me. Scared me half to death. Reptiles in the kitchen. And that pony. It tried to bite me.”
“It was just a rough first day, but why don’t we—”
“A rough first day?” Mrs. Beasely tossed the wooden spoon to the floor. It struck with a deafening clatter. “I’ve cooked on cattle drives, chased off every rough cowboy who thought he could push me around or worse. I have raised ten of my own children. But I tell you what, Mr. Braddock, I’ve never had such a miserable time trying to manage your daughters. I quit.”
“But Mrs. Beasely—”
“You can send my wages to my address.” The woman grabbed her coat from the wall peg and stormed off.
“Can’t we talk about this?” Cooper didn’t like Mrs. Beasely, but housekeepers in this part of the country were damn hard to find. “I could pay you more.”
“An entire shipment of gold wouldn’t be worth it.” The woman charged through the room, heading for the front door. She nearly tripped over the tea party. “Goodbye and good riddance.”
“Oh!” He dashed into the parlor in time to see Anna dart aside as Mrs. Beasely barreled out the front door.
“Bad time for a visit?” she asked, a pinch to her brow. Was that a smile touching her lips? Was she laughing at his plight?
“It was a bad time.” He watched the mean Mrs. Beasely retreat down the street. “But it’s better now that she’s gone. Come in.”
“I don’t want to interrupt your meal. I just wanted to drop by before Mandy was too tired.”
Cooper didn’t miss the sight of the little girl standing behind her mother, hands fisted tightly in Anna’s skirts. She was a pretty thing, just like her mother.
“I’m still playin’ tea party.” Maisie bounced into the room. “Wanna play?”
Mandy nodded. released her mother’s skirt and headed timidly toward the array of play enamelware spread out on the parlor floor.
He tried hard not to look at Anna. He watched the girls, looked out the window. But she drew his gaze. She looked rested, less worried. And so beautiful, he realized. The pink gingham dress suited her, brought out the rosy tint to her cheeks and the deep blue of her eyes. Her hair shone gold and true. When she smiled, he refused to admit to himself how much he liked the sight of her.
“I wanted to do something for you, because you have done so much for me.” She bowed her head. Curls tumbled over her brow, hiding her eyes. “It isn’t much, I know. How can it be? You saved my daughter’s life. But I wanted to do something.”
She lifted one slim hand. She held Katie’s book and a bundle wrapped in plain brown paper.
“Anna! Anna!” Katie roared into the parlor, shoes drumming on the floor. Her tears were dried, but her eyes were still reddened. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“I brought you something.” Anna’s gaze arrowed to Katie, and the warmth of her gentle smile filled the room like sunlight, changing it from twilight to day.
“Goody. Can I open it, Papa?” Katie accepted the present and was all ready to tear into the paper.
And it was appropriate that she did so. Cooper kept his distance, glad for the girl eager to take what he couldn’t. “Go ahead.”
The sharp sound of tearing paper echoed in the room. “Oh, boy. It’s Bob.” Katie held up a fabric hanging done in fine needlework and different color calicos. “And all of us, Papa.”
Maisie jumped up to see, abandoning her teapot full of imaginary tea. “Looky! There’s my outlaw tree.”
He cocked his head, took a look for himself. What he saw made him stumble, made the air whoosh out of his lungs. She’d cut pictures out of fabric, pine trees and a log cabin, grass and sky, two little girls, a sheriff and a pony, outlined them all in thread. It was their home, their front yard, his family.
“How did you do the pony?” Katie asked.
“I drew a picture first on newspaper to make a pattern, then I cut it out. See how I used dark thread for Bob’s mane and tail?”
“And knots of thread for her eyes.” Katie sounded excited. She sounded...interested in the needle arts.
Cooper could have fallen over backward.
Anna hadn’t wanted to stay for supper, but she couldn’t turn down Cooper when both Maisie and Katie started to plead. Mandy looked tired but happy, and was having such a fun time playing tea party with Maisie, it was easy to relent. Mandy hadn’t been able to play in a long while.
“I’m surprised you’re this good of a cook,” Anna admitted over a bite of mashed potato.
“Papa is a great cook,” Katie piped up. “Except he ain’t never home on account on his havin’ to work.”
“Mrs. Beasely’s roast was tasty.” Cooper pushed back his plate. “Too bad she didn’t have a better temper.”
“She didn’t like tea parties,” Maisie piped up.
“Well, what kind of person doesn’t?” Cooper pressed a kiss to his daughter’s brow before he reached for her empty plate.
Anna stood to gather the plates, too. “You treated me to supper, so I will do the dishes.”
“Nope. You’re our guest.” Cooper’s hand shot out, his fingers curling around her wrist.
Heat snapped up her arm. “I want to help.”
“I’ll do the dishes.” Katie announced.
“You?” Cooper appeared to nearly drop the plates he carried in one capable hand. “Do you even know how?”
“I’ve watched lots of times. I’ll run next door and get Laura to help.”
“Good idea.” Cooper couldn’t believe his luck. First an interest in needlework and now this. “Maisie, go with your sister. I’m going to take Anna home.”
“Me, too?” Mandy looked up, worry crinkling her brow.
“You, too.” Cooper’s voice knelled with such warmth.
Throughout the parting wishes and goodbyes, Anna kept gazing at Cooper. Kept noticing the little things, like the shadowy stubble on his jaw, the laugh lines around his eyes, the way a jaunty shock of dark hair cascaded over his forehead. He lifted Mandy into the wagon seat with care, then held out his hand to help Anna.
She didn’t need his help. But she placed her palm against his anyway, just to feel the heat of his skin, just to be close enough to see him laugh when Katie and Maisie dashed down to the house next door.
“I couldn’t help but notice that you lost another housekeeper,” Anna commented after he released the brake.
The wagon rolled forward, drawn by his handsome palomino.
“One in a long, long list, believe me.” He cocked his head just enough to look sideways at her. “Katie does drive a lot of them away on purpose. She was old enough to remember her mother leaving. Katherine walked out the door and left Katie crying all alone with baby Maisie. I found them in the dark when I came home from work.”
Anna bit her lip, aching for Katie’s past and for Cooper’s. “A child can’t easily overcome something like that. How hard it must be for her to trust another woman again. Especially a housekeeper who might not stay.”
“That’s right.” Cooper pulled the wagon to a stop in front of the inn. “What you did for us, making that wall hanging. It made a difference. Thank you. I think you have given Katie a reason to take up needle and thread.”
“To appliqué fabric ponies?”
“If Katie becomes accomplished in the needle arts, you will have my undying gratitude.” His mouth drew up in that half-lopsided grin, the one she was coming to adore.
It was time to go, before she did something foolish like lean closer, ache to know how that sexy, curving mouth would feel kissing hers. Anna ducked her chin, hiding her face so Cooper couldn’t guess her thoughts. “Good luck replacing Mrs. Beasely.”
“Good
luck to you, Anna.” He hopped down and offered his help.
She handed him her daughter. Mandy had fallen asleep, and her head bobbed as he cradled her. Anna’s feet touched the ground before he could reach up to help her.
“You let me know if you need anything, anything at all.” In the thickening twilight, she could see the sincerity carved on his face.
How it beckoned to her. Anna shivered and tried not to let it show. She could never let him know how she felt.
Troubled, Cooper descended the stairs. Tonight his girls had talked excitedly of Anna. Again, Katie had made the suggestion that Anna could take Mrs. Beasely’s place. His boots drummed on the floor as he stepped into the parlor.
“Something wrong, big brother?” Laura turned from the hearth, where she’d tossed a few sticks of wood on the flames. The fire snapped greedily. She brushed bits of bark and moss from her skirt.
“Nothing a good housekeeper can’t fix.”
“Or a wife.”
Was that laughter in his sister’s eyes? “Are you laughing at me?” he demanded.
“Never. Not at you.” She hid her smile with a duck of her head. “I’m heading home. I have a long day ahead of me taking care of your girls.”
Frustration swirled inside him. He shouldn’t scold Laura for teasing him; where would he and the girls be without her? “You know how much I appreciate your stepping in—”
“I know,” she interrupted, snagging her cloak from the coat tree by the front door. “Do me a favor, Cooper. Marry that nice woman you brought here. Don’t worry about an appropriate engagement time, or anything else. It would be best for the girls.”
Her hand touched his sleeve, the affection of a lifetime, warm and certain. His throat ached. Emotions jumbled down deep. “I’ve told you before. I’m not going to marry Anna. There was a misunderstanding—”
“I know. Janet Briggs told me.”
“What did Janet Briggs tell you?”
“That you and Anna had a falling out of some kind.”
“What?”
“I know, it’s none of my business.”