He held the door for the ladies and Linette stepped inside first. The sigh that whistled from her lips drove back the gall in his throat and made him grin. Had she been expecting something fancy? No doubt this crude cabin shocked her. It was only temporary and then would serve as quarters for a foreman. If the man was married and had a family, Eddie would add on to it but had not seen any need for that now. It had solid walls. It was warm and dry. It served as a place to put his feet up and have a cup of coffee and somewhere to catch a comfortable night’s sleep. Not much else.
The letter clutched in his fist crackled. Margaret had changed her mind. As if he didn’t measure up. His insides twisted in a familiar, unwelcome way.
He studied the woman he was stuck with. Linette was almost plain. Her eyes too direct. Her lips too narrow and stubborn, almost challenging. Her hair was light in color. Neither brown nor blond and coiled in a braid about her face. Her eyes were so pale they didn’t deserve to be called brown. She was too small. Built like a struggling sapling out on the prairie. In fact, everything about her was wrong. Quite the opposite of Margaret. No way would she fit into his plans. His father’s instructions were clear. “Find suitable land and build a house. A replica of our home and life back here in England.” Eddie had been surprised his father had entrusted him with the task and vowed he would make his father proud.
Linette Edwards could not be allowed to ruin his plans.
But he couldn’t send her away with the weather threatening to turn nasty. He’d shelter her until it moderated...which likely meant for the winter. Then, under armed escort if necessary, he would see her returned to England or wherever she might have a mind to go...just so long as it wasn’t here.
Trouble was, she wasn’t alone. Not that she should be. But the woman she’d brought along looked as if she’d been rescued from the gutter. Her clothes barely missed being called rags. Her untidy black hair and scowling face indicated she was not happy to be here. He snorted silently. At least they shared that. He wasn’t happy to have any of them here.
Then there was the boy with a flash of blue eyes and a mat of blond hair sticking out from under his cap. He often thought of children to fill the rooms in the big house, but children bred with a woman like Margaret. Not waifs.
Cassie hesitated at the doorway. The noise that escaped her mouth was full of anger and discontent. “I had more room back in Montreal.”
Linette laughed softly—a merry sound full of pleasure. She didn’t seem the least bit distressed about the conditions.
“You slept in the train station after your husband died and left you stranded in a strange city,” she said to Cassie. “Of course it was bigger. But it wasn’t home. This will be home.” The word was full of promise and warmth.
He figured he better make sure she remembered it was temporary. “Until better weather.” Silently, he again acknowledged that might not be before spring and the thought made his neck muscles spasm. “Then you’re headed back to your father.”
“There’s many a slip between the cup and the lip.”
Her disregard of his warning made him chomp on his back teeth. It took an effort to release the tension so he could speak. “There’ll be no slips here.”
Cassie edged forward into the room and stood with her arms crossed. He figured her eyes would be crossed, too, and full of displeasure. Good. If both women found the situation intolerable... But it was a long time until spring. A crowded house with two women dripping discontent would be miserable for everyone.
What had he done to deserve this?
Margaret’s letter said she didn’t think she could face the challenges of frontier life nor live in small quarters. He’d meant the big house to be a surprise. Now he saw keeping it a secret had been cause for her to think she’d be confined to some sort of settler’s shack. His mind kicked into salvage thoughts. Miss Edwards would see the house. She’d realize it was almost finished. She could report its fineness to Margaret. Margaret would change her mind. She’d be pleased to join him. Tension drained from him so quickly his limbs twitched.
He realized the interior of the little house lacked warmth and closed the door behind him. He’d been about to leave the cabin and had let the fire die to embers. “I’ll get some heat in here.” Deftly, he added wood, and in minutes welcoming flames sprang to life. Now he’d have to plan on heating the house all day. He’d have to get more firewood chopped. These women and the boy were going to be a nuisance as well as a threat.
“I didn’t realize how cold I’d grown,” Linette said, holding her hands toward the stove. “Is it usually this cold in October?”
“Snow comes early this close to the mountains, though I hope it holds off for a time yet. The cows are still up in the higher pastures.”
“And you would prefer to have them where? Down here?”
“Yes. Down in the lower meadows where they’ll be able to get to the grass.”
“You don’t feed them?”
She sure was full of questions. “Do you know anything about ranching?”
“A cousin raised cattle. He always kept them in barns and pens in the winter and fed them hay.”
He chuckled. “Hard to build a barn big enough for a thousand head or more.” The way she widened her eyes in surprise gave him a moment’s victory then he wished he’d kept the fact to himself. If she was a gold digger he’d provided her with more to dig for. “I have some hay. Most ranchers don’t think it’s necessary, but one of the first men I talked to when I came out here was Kootenai Brown. He’s lived in the mountains for years and says only a buffalo can survive without hay. They dig through the grass like a horse. He told me if I want to succeed in this venture I should plan to have hay available.” Why was he telling her all this? Surely she didn’t care. But her pale brown eyes flashed with intelligent interest. Not the fake batting of eyelashes he’d seen from women who seemed to think any sign of intelligence would frighten off a man.
“Kootenai Brown? Isn’t Kootenai the name of an Indian tribe?”
He couldn’t hide his surprise. Didn’t even try. “How do you know that?”
“I’ve read everything I could find about the Northwest.”
He turned his attention to stoking the fire to conceal his reluctant admiration.
Cassie groaned. “And she likes to talk about it all day long.” She moved marginally closer to the stove as if reluctant to allow herself any comfort her circumstances might provide.
Linette laughed softly. “I didn’t realize I was boring you.”
“You and that gentleman from the coach. Did he say he was going to another ranch?”
“Yes. I believe he said he was an investor with the OK Ranch and intended to check on its operation.” She turned back to Eddie. “Would that be correct?”
“Could be. Good thing if it’s true. The OK bunch has run into some trouble.”
“What sort? Wild animals? Rustlers?” She practically quivered with excitement.
He studied her more closely. Was she the sort to be bounding into trouble just because it sounded adventuresome? He did not need that sort of aggravation. He answered her question first. “They lost cows by driving them north too hard. The rest of the herd is weakened. If they don’t see them properly fed I fear they will lose the works.” He intended to make sure she wasn’t about to turn his life inside out and upside down and put his peace and security at risk—any more than she had already. “You don’t find trouble to be exciting, do you?”
“If you think I’d be happy to hear of a herd of cows suffering—” Her eyes snapped with anger.
“I was thinking you seem overly anxious to think there might be wild animals or rustlers. I warn you I won’t tolerate anyone deliberately putting themselves or others at risk simply for an exciting experience.”
“What will you tolerate?” Linette demanded.
/>
They studied each other with wariness. And a startling sense of shared determination that shifted his opinion of this woman. Of course, they shared that. Only in different directions. He was determined to carry out his original plan to marry Margaret and establish a home he could be proud of. She meant to upset his plans. “While you are here, I expect you to conduct yourself wisely and in a ladylike fashion.”
Her nostrils flared. “You mean play the lady of the manor.”
Behind her, Cassie snorted.
She’d no doubt been raised as such. Why didn’t she offer to be so here? Not that it made any difference. He wasn’t about to toss Margaret aside over a misunderstanding. Softly, he asked, “What do you see your role as here?”
She ducked her head so he was unable to see her expression. “I suppose I thought you meant to marry me.” She lifted her head and faced him with her eyes flashing courage and challenge. “I will make a good pioneer wife.”
“I never got your letter or I could have warned you I’m not desperate for a wife. Besides, you can’t simply substitute one woman for another as if they are nothing more than horses.”
“Why not? Are you madly in love with Margaret?”
Love? There was no such thing as love in an arrangement like theirs. “We suited each other.”
“She doesn’t seem to share your view of suitability.”
He guessed she meant if she had, Margaret would be here instead of her. He pointed toward the window. “I mean to correct that. Did you see that house out there?”
She nodded.
“I built it for Margaret.”
Linette’s eyes widened. “But she said...” She looked about at the tiny quarters and shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“I wanted it to be a surprise. I see now I should have informed her about the house. But you can write and tell her how special it is. Once she knows, she’ll reconsider and come.”
She fixed him with a direct stare. “You really believe that’s all there is to her refusal to come?” Her gaze demanded honesty.
His neck knotted and he squeezed the back of it. He thought Margaret wanted to share his life. He still believed it. Surely what he had to offer was acceptable to Margaret. She only objected to meager quarters and that would soon be a thing of the past. He looked about the small room. “I obviously don’t need help running this place. And I don’t need or want a pioneer wife. My wife will have a cook and housekeeper to help her run the big house.” He returned to confront her demanding look. “But with winter coming on—”
“You’ll tolerate our presence until spring?” Her voice carried a low note of something he couldn’t quite put his thumb on. Warning? Challenge?
He scrubbed the back of his neck again, wondering how much more tension it could take before something snapped. Most of his time was spent with animals who had little to say but moo and with cowboys known to be laconic. It didn’t much prepare him to pick up on subtle nuances of social communication, but even a dolt would understand her question was more than mere conversation. “I expect we’ll have to tolerate each other, crowded as we’ll be in these quarters.”
Cassie spun away to stare at the door. “I should have stayed in Montreal.”
Linette gave her a tight smile. “You weren’t exactly happy there, if I recall.”
“Seems happiness is too much to hope for.”
Linette hurried to her side and wrapped an arm around the woman’s waist. “Of course it’s not. We’ll be happy here. About as happy as we make up our minds to be. All of us.” The look she sent Eddie warned him to disagree or make it impossible. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Gardiner?”
“I’m sure we can be civilized. After all, we’re adults.” Except for young Grady, and all eyes turned toward him. “I expect he’s the only one we need to be concerned about.” The child had been abandoned then put into the care of strangers. Which made Eddie that much more grateful to his father for the life he’d been given.
Seeing everyone watching him, Grady started to whimper. The boy’s fears vibrated through the room.
Eddie thought of stroking the child’s head to calm him but knew it would only upset him further. He was at a loss to know how to comfort the boy.
Linette knelt to face Grady squarely. “You’re safe here. We’ll take care of you.”
“I want my mama,” he wailed loudly.
Linette dropped to the floor, pulled the boy to her lap and crooned as she rocked him. “Mr. Gardiner, I believe Grady is hungry. Can you direct me to the food supplies and I’ll gladly make us tea.”
Food? He had no food to speak of in the cabin. “I’ve been taking my meals over at the cookhouse.” Would they like to go to the cookhouse, too?
Grady wailed louder, as if Eddie had announced they were all about to starve. Seems Grady had answered the question. He would not be comfortable among so many strangers. Best to let them eat here. “I’ll rustle up some supplies right away.” Grateful for an excuse to escape the cabin, crowded as it was with bodies and feelings, he grabbed his coat and hat and headed across the yard.
Dare he hope the weather would moderate long enough for the stagecoach driver to decide to venture back to Edendale or Fort Benton? If so, he would have that trio on their way.
But he knew that scenario was about as likely as finding a satchel full of money on the ground before him.
Another thought sprang to life. After less than an hour his nerves were strung tight as a drum. How would he endure months of this?
ISBN: 9781460312858
Copyright © 2013 by Laurie A. Kingery
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com
Hill Country Cattleman Page 25