His posture stiffened, pulling her focus back to him. “I did. A gangly fellow not much older than a boy was in my post saying his whole group of trappers was headed to your ranch to look their fill of ‘those pretty Collins sisters and their unusual buffalo calf.’” The way Mr. Mason said that last bit made it clear the words were a direct quote.
But he wasn’t finished. “Where I come from, a decent man doesn’t stand by and allow a group of ill-mannered ruffians to show up at a ladies’ home uninvited and stand around ogling them. I didn’t know how many there were, but I figured White Horse might need an extra gun hand.” He glanced around. “Where is he, anyway? And your other sister?”
Though anger sluiced through her, she worked to hold herself steady. “I can assure you, Mr. Mason, my sisters and I are quite capable of protecting ourselves. We would not have come to this land nor built a ranch here if that wasn’t the case. You need not concern yourself with us.” But had he really closed his trade room and followed the men here? Out of concern for them? For her?
He must truly be a gentleman. Yet if so, why had he come to this land and set up a post to trade with trappers and Natives? Was he trying to civilize the place?
She tipped her head as she studied him. “Where exactly do you come from?” Perhaps she shouldn’t be so curious. Her new brother-in-law had said a lot of men came to this land because they wanted a clean slate. But if Mr. Masoncould interfere intheirbusiness, she could ask a few questions about his.
He regarded her too, his gaze turning almost hard again. “Boston. Why?”
Boston was an even larger city than Richmond, where she and her sisters had lived before coming west. She narrowed her eyes. “And what did you do in Boston?” Likely a gentleman of leisure. Or maybe the head of a prestigious business. Something about him bespoke refinement. His clothing perhaps, for his looks were rugged enough with his wind-ruffled dark curls and several days of scruff on his face.
A moment stretched as he didn’t answer. Was there some cryptic reason he would refuse this simple question?
“Don’t pryinto a man’s background. Folks who come west oftenwant to leave their past behind.”Her mind even replayed the words in Riley’s voice.
Perhaps she should take back the question.
When he finally replied, his voice seemed quieter. “I was an officer for the Day Police.”
She barely held in her gasp. No wonder protection came so naturally to him. It was in the span of his shoulders, the way he stood with his feet braced, an aura of confidence and determination surrounding him.
Her gaze slipped to the rifle. He must be well-practiced with a gun. Though the police officers who’d carried firing weapons back in Richmond had usually worn smaller pistols fastened at their side.
He stepped back, as though her scrutiny made him itch. “I brought today’s milk. Nearly three gallons.” He turned and strode to his horse to retrieve the pouch.
When he returned to them, Faith reached out to take the container.
As soon as he handed it over, he moved aside. He didn’t meet either of their gazes but motioned to the flask. “The calf may not need all of that, but I thought you’d want the rest for butter or cooking or such. If you don’t, I’ll take it back to the post to sell. I’m sure any man who comes in would be happy for it.” Then he finally did meet her gaze with a glare. “Unless I run them all off in a misguided effort to protect the stubborn neighbor women.”
She could choose to be affronted by that comment, or she could take it with a bit of humor. He really seemed to be a good man. He just turned a bit grumpy when others didn’t abide by his wishes.
Perhaps he’d never met women like her and her sisters. They’d grown up with more freedom than most ladies, roaming their father’s ranch. At least until Mama died. Sadness still drenched Lorelei’s spirit when she thought of that stormy afternoon just after her sixteenth birthday. Then Papa had sold everything and moved them into Richmond, and the city had always felt like a corset laced too tight. Coming west had been the breath of fresh air they’d all needed.
Maybe Mr. Mason was experiencing the same. Perhaps he’d not even realized how constricting Boston had been and he was still learning how to stretch his lungs among these majestic mountains and stretching plains.
She sent him a sweet smile. “Don’t run your customers off, Mr. Mason. We really do need your trading post in this area. It will be wonderful to have a steady source for supplies.” They already had a long list of things they plannedto trade for during the summer rendezvous, but hopefully they could get most of it at his store instead. “Are you fully set up now?”
He gave a single nod. “Wally and Kentucky headed east with the wagon this morning.”
Mr. Burke had left already? That meant Mr. Mason would be at the trading post by himself now. On the days he had no customers, he might become lonely. The thought tugged at her heart.
“When you have a free evening, come share a meal with us. We would appreciate company. Consider this an open invitation, whenever you’re available.”
His jaw dropped almost to his collar. She must have caught him off guard, as much as she’d surprised herself with the invitation. He’d probably think her completely unstable now. But she’d always had a soft spot for those left alone. Animal or human.
Curly must have smelled the milk, for he began to root through her skirts, butting against her leg.
Mr. Mason’s gaze dropped to the calf. “Perhaps I will.” Then he straightened, squaring his shoulders. “I should get back, but I need you to promise me something. If any man frightens you, even the smallest amount, come to me.” He looked from her to Faith, then back to her, catching her gaze and holding it, his dark eyes intense.
She swallowed to bring moisture back to her dry mouth, at least enough to speak. “We will.”
But could they? If danger found them, would they have a chance to ride all the way to his trading post for help?
That wouldn’t happen, though. They’d never have to find out. Surely.
Tanner couldn’t stop the worry swirling his thoughts as he sat at Elsa’s side, the cow tied where he could view the front of the trade room as he tugged her udder to produce streams of milk. Three women living nearly alone in this wild land would lure danger no matter how much they kept to themselves. Adding in the draw of that white buffalo calf...
