Provided by him or from him? That was the question. But tonight, the air contained too many howls, too many unknowns. She glanced down at Ben’s boots. “I’d appreciate it if you could negotiate with Mr. Goodnight for me.”
“If that’s what you wish.”
Her gaze drifted up to his, the contact so palpable that it made her head swim. Too personal, especially here after midnight, and her dressed in her nightgown. “And if that doesn’t work out, we’ll talk about what to do next. Only, don’t go telling them you’re a Yankee. That won’t help the negotiating.”
“All I have to do is open my mouth, and they’ll know I’m not from Texas.” He smiled, a warm smile that worked its way inside her. “But I’ll tell them I’m there on behalf of a Texas belle.”
“I’ve never been a belle.”
He shrugged. “Not all belles sit in parlors or ride carriages. Especially in Texas.” His rich voice carried on the breeze as he ambled off the porch.
She called after him, “Lock the stable door behind you. Don’t take chances.”
Already in the yard, he pivoted on his heel. “If I didn’t believe in taking chances, I’d be back in Philadelphia already.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “But I’ll lock the door. Good night, Cora.”
Her pulse quickened. Why did he have to do that? Make things sound like they were about her, when, of course, they weren’t. He’d be here insisting on helping out even if she was a ninety-year-old grandma and wrinkly, as long as she was Jeb’s kin. But still, it seemed as if there had almost been a trace of flirtation in his voice. Silly imagining on her part.
She pushed her way in the door and locked it behind her. Ben was practically betrothed. That was the only thing that madehim safe. But how safe was a man who could send her heart to pattering?
CHAPTER 13
Ben aligned the log across the two sawhorses. Five inches in diameter should be about right. He’d sacrificed a young pecan tree in order to find a suitable replacement for one of the posts supporting the cabin’s porch. A deep crack a foot long threatened to split the existing one in two. “Hold her steady now.”
Charlie patted Jack on the head and stood. “Jack wants to help too.”
“This is man’s work. Jack will have to wait.” He rocked the log. “You’ve got to put all your muscles into it.”
Sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Charlie gripped the wood. “You’ll see how strong I am.”
Ben smiled and picked up the draw knife from the ground.
Dew glistened on the grass beneath the early-morning sun. A bluebird’s wavering call fluttered from a nearby tree.
Post end against his right hip, Ben gripped both knife handles and leaned forward as far as he could down the seven-foot log. Good, solid work is what he needed to keep his mind off Cora. The way her loose hair had fallen like folds of silk across her shoulders and down her back last night, lapping against the red shawl… He connected the blade with the wood at an angleand drew the knife back toward him, shaving a ribbon of bark and lichen along the way.
“It’s like lifting up a cover.” Charlie held his end steady. “I wonder if there’s any bugs in there.” He stared at the newly revealed smooth cream-colored streak.
“Hold her steady,” Ben commanded as he drew the blade to the end. He ripped the last threads holding the bark in place and tossed the ribbon to the ground.
“Can I have it?” Charlie reached down to pet Jack, who pawed at his shins.
“We’ll see.” Ben winked. “You show me a good morning of work, and you’ll earn all the shavings.”
“Maybe I’ll make a fort with them.”
Ben rolled the log a couple of inches and nodded to the end. Charlie grabbed it and nudged Jack away with his foot. Draw and peel, draw and peel. They finished off the bottom half in a short while. Time to switch ends.
The back door banged, and Cora came around the side of the house, her hair in a loose knot at the back of her head, tiny wisps flying about her face. She carried a wide reed basket by one handle, allowing the open mouth to whap against her skirts.
Ben removed his slouch hat and ran a hand over his hair. “Morning.” It was the first time he’d seen her since last night. She’d sent breakfast out to him with word he was welcome to come to supper.
A rosy pink colored her cheeks. “I came to see if you had any laundry for me to do. I’ve had mine and Charlie’s soaking since last night. Forgot to ask for yours.”
He rested his hand on the log. It wobbled, almost throwing him off balance. His neck heated. Last thing he needed was to look like he couldn’t even stand up straight. “I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble.”
“I haven’t seen a stitch of your clothing in two-and-a-half weeks.” She jabbed a hand to her hip. “You do believe in bathing, don’t you?” A smirk tugged at her lips.
“I’ve been washing my clothes out in the washbasin.”
