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Authors: Caroline Fyffe

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BOOK: West Winds of Wyoming
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“Others will be back shortly,” she lied again, knowing she’d spill a bushel of lies to get him off her land. “But I don’t see how that’s any business of yours.”

She felt, more than saw, a whispery shadow, like a gossamer drape fluttering about him, making fear surge in her mouth, her heart.

Death.

He shrugged. “That’s too bad about the food. It’s been days since I’ve had a good meal.” He patted his stomach and smiled, but his action did little to quell her suspicions. His gaze strayed to the open door behind her.

“Got nothing here for you.”

He mounted and rode out without saying another word.

Nell snapped her thoughts back to the present, her breathing rasping in her ears. She’d pondered on him for days, wondering why he’d affected her so. She didn’t understand.

Charlie Rose was nothing like that man. At first, when she’d spotted him coming, she’d thought he was the stranger returning. Determined not to be caught unprepared this time, she’d grabbed her gun and ducked behind the house, intending to take him by surprise. She’d stayed hidden until she’d detected him going into the barn, then snuck up behind. A hot flood of relief had descended when he’d turned around and his vivid blue eyes held only caution.

Hiring Charlie Rose had been a quick decision, one based on intuition more than fact. His presence had actually drawn her in, made her feel safer than before he’d arrived.
We had to hire someone. Seth is working himself to exhaustion. The two of us can only do so much.

But now, she’d better think of something decent to fix or their new hand just might ride right back out. She pushed away several strands of hair that had dropped over her eyes. Supper didn’t have to be fancy. Just because he was a handsome cuss, with eyes blue as a cloudless sky, didn’t mean she should care what he thought about her cooking skills.

Biscuits, eggs, potatoes, and green beans fresh picked this morning. Tonight they’d have breakfast for supper. Food was food. Just something to keep you going. She dumped several large potatoes into the sink and pumped in water to wash them. Adding more water into another pot to steam the beans, she placed the pot on the stove.

The sound of horse hooves in the yard and Dog’s familiar bark jolted her.

Seth.

A minute later, the kitchen door opened and her brother came in, looking worn-out and old for his twenty-five years. He tossed his hat on the sideboard and kicked off his boots into a pile of old ones.

Nell dried her hands and hurried over. She slipped into Seth’s waiting arms. “Welcome home.”

“It’s darn good to be here, Nellie girl,” he uttered against the side of her head. After several good squeezes, he stepped away.

“You see the new man?”

“Yeah. He came out and took my horse. Imagine that. I think I could get used to treatment like that.”

“Well, you’re gonna get used to it. I don’t want to hear a word about us not being able to afford him.”

Seth, older by five years, stretched his back with a grimace. A hard, racking cough made him take a handkerchief out of his pocket and cover his mouth. He’d been coughing for months. She’d mentioned his condition several times to Doc Thorn, but the physician had said he couldn’t do a thing for her brother unless Seth actually came in to see him.

“I was hoping that cough would be long gone by the time you got home.”

He nodded. “It’s just hanging on to beleaguer me.”

She assessed her brother with critical eyes. The army contract for horses was the only thing keeping the ranch alive. The compensation wasn’t much, especially since a new recession seemed to be looming. Just three years past, the country had climbed out of the last depression, and the outlook had been brighter—for a while. But not now. The army money made the mortgage payment, on which they were a month behind.

The place was too much for just the two of them, and they didn’t have the funds to hire the hands needed to get the ranch up and running the way they’d like—the way they had before Ben had died. Charlie Rose was the first help they’d had in almost a year.

“Were you gimping when you came in?” She took in her brother’s appearance. He’d lost a few pounds since riding out over a month ago with twenty-five head of horses. His face, partially covered by a week-old beard, was darkly tanned and weathered. His mouth, a grim hard line. Hair in desperate need of cutting, tangled in sandy-brown knots.

“No. Just tired and movin’ slow.”

She went around and took hold of his shoulders, massaging firmly. “Remind me to cut this scraggly hair.” He grunted, but then her efforts drew a long, appreciative sigh from him. Ever since she was a little girl, she’d been tagging along after Seth, her big brother and guardian. She liked rubbing his shoulders. It was something she could do for him. “What did Captain Lewis think of the horses?” she asked.

“Liked every single one.”

“You’re overdue getting home, which means the captain was late meeting up again. He must think this ranch runs itself. I swear.” Bitterness pooled inside. Several months ago, when Seth had delivered a string of mounts for Fort McKinney, Captain Lewis didn’t show up to the agreed meeting spot for a month. Irked her to no end. As if Seth had nothing better to do but hang around twiddling his thumbs.

She worked his shoulders hard, then his back and neck. “All those extra days sleeping on the ground couldn’t have been good for you.”

“Hush, Nell, you worry too much. How were things here? You manage all right?”

At the simple questions, her hands stilled. She’d been wondering if she should tell Seth about the visitor, about how he’d made her feel. If she did, her brother wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone. Digging for her resolve, she said, “Same as always. Horses and cattle. Coyotes and hawks—and of course my beloved books.”

Seth turned around and pointed her back to the sink with a gentle nudge. Knowing he must be hungry after the long ride, she hurried back and took up where she’d left off.

“Everything went as planned. They want fifteen more in three months.”

“What?” She spun to face him, knife in one hand and potato in the other. She ignored the water dripping onto the floor. “We don’t have that many.”

“I know. We’ll have to see if Chase has a few to sell.”

“Chase Logan? We can’t afford to buy any of his stock just to resell them to the army.” At this point, they were clear of any debt besides the mortgage. She didn’t plan to take on more.

“I told you to hush. You wear me out. I’ll figure it out when the time comes.” A string of coughing made him turn away.

A rapping on wood interrupted the conversation.

“Come in,” Seth called.

The new man pulled open the door. He wiped his boots on the tattered doormat, glanced at the pile of old boots behind the door, and then to Seth’s stockinged feet. “You want me to take these off?”

His voice, deep and all too sensual, sent a ripple of awareness thorough Nell. She hadn’t noticed that before. He’d removed his hat and held the black Stetson in his hands. He must have washed in the trough because the hair around his face was damp.

Nell laughed ruefully. “Just take a peek at the rest of the room. That should answer your question.” Heat flushed her face when she realized just how cluttered she’d let the place become. It seemed the kitchen was a catchall for everything.
The livestock are what matter.
The horses and cattle.
Everything else is just extra.
“I think I’d keep ’em on if I were you. Never know what might bite you.”

“Nell,” Seth chided. “You can put your hat there, Charlie.” He gestured to the sideboard, where several hats rested, rims up. “Haven’t had time to put the hat rack back up after the blasted thing came loose and fell off the wall.”

Charlie put his hat down with an easy, graceful movement that made Nell jerk her gaze away.

“Come and set yourself down.” Seth gestured for the new man to follow. Nell listened as the two went into the living room, knowing her brother would plop down in his favorite leather chair by the window and be asleep in minutes. “Nell will have something for us to eat—in, ah, a bit. I hope before midnight. Don’t know what it might be, but I don’t ask questions if I want her to keep cooking for me.”

“It’ll be before midnight, Seth,” she called back. “Won’t be fancy, but it’ll be hot. There’s a newspaper from last week. The additions on the schoolhouse are finished and they’re having an open house this Saturday before the term starts. And to meet Mr. Hutton, the new schoolteacher. There’s also a raffle fundraiser. Be sure to read the article.”

The sound of Seth’s amused chuckle warmed her insides. The days had been long and lonely without him here.

“Now, why would I need to read the story, Nell, since you just told me the whole thing?” She overheard him mumble something to the new hand, then cough for several long seconds.

“What a fine collection of books,” Charlie Rose said to her brother. Her mind’s eye envisioned him roaming over the bookcase and all her beloved covers, the pages worn thin from constant use. Stories and worlds to get lost in. His exclamations over them made her think he was also a lover of the written word.

She cracked the last of nine eggs into a mixing bowl. She added two cupped palmfuls of water and whipped them with a fork. “What brings you to Logan Meadows, Mr. Rose?” she called over her shoulder.

“Just looked like a nice place to grow some roots.”

She jerked, almost dropping the bowl. His deep voice came from close behind her. Mr. Rose leaped forward and caught the eggs before they spilled.

“Not so tough without your gun?” Amusement flickered in his eyes when they met hers. “Thought as much.” She could tell he was older than Seth by a handful of years, but his boyish demeanor made him seem younger.

Embarrassed that he had indeed startled her, she gritted out through a tight jaw, “You didn’t
spook
me.” Swallowing, she wet her suddenly dry throat. Without his hat, and close up, Charlie Rose was handsome. His nut-brown hair—in need of a trim—was thick and inviting. A scar below his left eye and above his cheekbone was relatively new, with traces still visible where he’d gotten the injury stitched. He had a straight nose and strong jaw. She would have stepped away if the kitchen counter wasn’t already biting into her back.

Realizing she’d been staring, she jerked her gaze from his. “The bowl just slipped. Now give me some room or this knife might find itself stuck in your belly.”

That brought him up short. His smile vanished and he took a healthy step back. “Mind if I help myself to a glass of water?”

He still held the ceramic bowl in his large hands, as if cooking was second nature to him. She snatched it back, making the eggs slosh dangerously close to the rim. “Not at all.”

Cautiously, as if he was afraid he’d spook her again, he took a glass from the open shelf and pumped some water. “Thank you.”

His tone, gentle now, lacked the earlier playfulness. She berated herself for the stupid comment about the knife. The blunder had just slipped out when she found herself pinned back against the counter.

That’s not the only reason, Nell.
Admit it. You’re attracted to him.

Charlie Rose was the first man to turn her head since Ben had died. The timbre of his voice was pure comfort and safety. The honesty, deep in his eyes, true. But more, something about him reached out to the woman in her. Made her breath catch in the back of her throat.
That
made her feel like a traitor to Ben. For two long years since her husband’s death, she’d felt empty and void—even a little lost.

Agitated, she quickly filled another glass with water and handed it to Charlie Rose. She pushed every notion from her mind except what she was making for dinner. “Please take this to Seth while I set the table. Supper will be ready shortly.”

CHAPTER TWO

A
lone in the shadowy barn, Charlie glanced in on his sorrel mare as she munched the hay he’d tossed her before going in for supper. Georgia raised her head and looked at him. “No, girl, not tonight. You’ve earned some time off. A lot of time, as a matter of fact.” Uninterested in his words, the horse blew hay dust from her nostrils before returning to the sweet-smelling alfalfa at her feet.

Restless, Charlie crossed over to the stalls on the far side of the barn. One stout mare was recuperating from an injury on her pastern. A chestnut-and-white paint horse and a black gelding occupied the other stalls.

Concentrating on his work duties would be difficult now that he was actually here in Logan Meadows. All he wanted to do was ride back into town and retrieve Maddie. Hold her in his arms. Kiss her sweet face.

“When will you get to Logan Meadows, Pa?” she asked as he put her on the stage. “I don’t want to go without you. I’m scared.”

“Don’t be frightened, little darlin’,” he replied. “Miss Baxter will take good care of you. This town’s not safe for you anymore.”

Today in Logan Meadows he’d gotten a glimpse of her from down the street. Just a quick look, but that one vision was like a lifeline to a dying man. It had taken every ounce of his willpower not to bolt across the dusty street where she walked holding an older girl’s hand and swoop her into a hug. She and her friend had been chatting and laughing, and although the scene brought him peace that his daughter was indeed safe, a part of him, a selfish part, hurt because she seemed to be doing so well without him.

BOOK: West Winds of Wyoming
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