Jace opened the narrow cupboard. Plenty of tinned beans. Some tinned peaches. A few jars of Mae’s preserves. He lifted the lid on several larger tins. A decent supply of flour and coffee beans. Salt. Sugar. Everything a man needed to survive.
Everything but a sweet smile and?—
Stop right there. He was not going down that trail. No siree.
Dianne circled the kitchen.Chickens were easierto deal with than a milk cow and her calf, but she’d learn to do it. If only to prove to herself she could.
She paused at the window to look toward the bunkhouse and tapped a finger on her chin. What had happened back at the pen? She’d been so pleased over having managed the calf. But when Jace stood in front of her, it wasn’t the calf or the cow or even the ranch she thought about…if any solid thought crossed her mind. It seemed Jace’s blue eyes had caught bits of the sky, backlit by sunshine and offering?—
What? What had she imagined he offered? Or, for that matter, why did she even think along those lines? She needed him to take care of the ranch. That was all. She’d lost too many people in her life to open her heart to anything more. Most likely, he felt the same way. No, it was only for the ranch, so she and Eddie had a home.
If convincing Jace meant preparing his meals and maybe even enjoying his company, it was all for the sake of permanency.
Pink drifted across the distant mountain peaks, reminding her it was time for Eddie to go to bed.
She called him inside.
“I bring Skip?” His fingers curled into the fur at the dog’s neck.
“No, Skip stays outside.”
Eddie sighed, kissed the dog’s head, and dragged himself into the kitchen.
His body language brought a smile to Dianne’s lips. Sometimes, words were unnecessary.
Why did that scene at the cow pen spring to her mind? That was an entirely different thing.
She helped Eddie wash and put on a nightshirt, then read a story from one of the books she’d brought. She listened to his prayers and kissed him good night. Being in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, might have upset him, but he flung his arms out and was asleep before she left the room. Playing outdoors with the dog had prepared him for a good night.
He was safe in bed, and she returned downstairs. The house was empty. Lonely. She stared out the window. A light glowed in the bunkhouse. Was he as lonely as she? Of course not. This was home to him.
A home he was prepared to reject.
Lighting a lamp, she retreated to the sitting room, selected a book from the shelf, and sat down to read.
The words blurred before her eyes, and she blinked. The journey had been long and tiring. The past three days had been full of danger and anxiety. No wonder she was tired.
Tomorrow was another day with more opportunities to convince Jace to accept the gift Chet had left him.
Carrying the lamp, she made her way upstairs where she prepared for bed without disturbing Eddie. As was her habit, she read a few verses from her Bible and knelt beside her bed to pray. “Thank You for safety in our travels.” Like she told Jace, God’s protection was always there even when they didn’t notice. “Thank You for this home.” It was perfect, but it wouldn’t be safe and comfortable if Jace left her to manage on her own. “Help Jace forgive himself for the accident and stay here as Chet would want him to. You are my God, and I trust You. In Jesus’ holy name, I pray. Amen.”
The sheets were smooth and smelled of grass and flowers. The blankets were warm. She planned tomorrow’s meals.Maybe I’ll find a spade and dig up the garden in preparation for seeding.She’d discovered a collection of seeds in the basement. A garden and fresh vegetables?—
What was that? A sound jerked her from her sleep. Skip barked. A deep voice ordered him to be quiet. That did not sound like Jace. Who else would be coming into the house? Had Al returned? His leering look flashed across her thoughts. Goose bumps skittered along her skin. Silently, she slipped from the bed and grabbed the length of wood she’d carried upstairs with her. She’d scolded herself for being so fearful, but if she was going tobe alone in the house, she wasn’t going to be unprotected. Now she congratulated herself for being prepared.
Not wanting to confront an intruder in her wrap, she grabbed a coat from the trunk, slipped her arms into the sleeves, and tiptoed from the room. At the top of the stairs, she paused to listen. Not a sound came from below. Maybe she’d been mistaken. But no, boots thumped on the porch, and Skip continued to growl.
Fear gripped her chest in a tight fist. Maybe she should retreat to her room and push the trunk against the door.
No. Whoever it was, she didn’t want him near Eddie.
Moving with the slow pace of a long-overdue spring thaw, she eased to the first step.
“Shut up, you mutt.”
Skip whined as if he’d been hit.
Anger lumped in her chest. How dare someone hurt that lovely dog?
