Nelson’s weathered face creased into a grin. “Ah, you’ve come to the right place then.” He raised his voice. “You lads hear that? The Balfour ranch is hiring!”
Three men at a corner table looked up with interest. James recognized two of them—Pete Clawson and his younger brother Jake, both decent workers when sober. The third was a stranger, lean and grizzled with the look of a man who’d seen hard miles.
James walked over to their table. “Afternoon, gentlemen. I need three, maybe four good men for haying work. Meals included, you’re welcome to sleep in our barn, and I’ll pay a bonus if we beat the weather.”
Pete Clawson straightened in his chair, interest flicking in his features. “How much we talking, James?”
“Dollar fifty a day, plus the bonus.” It was generous wages, but James needed men who’d work without complaint from dawn to dusk. “If you’re willing to come tonight, we’ll start tomorrow morning.”
“Count me in.” Pete glanced at his brother, who nodded eagerly. “Jake’s good with a scythe, and we both know the work.”
The stranger at their table leaned forward, studying James with sharp eyes. “Name’s Bill Carter. I can handle a scythe well enough. Where’s your place at?”
As the conversation wound on, he couldn’t keep Rose from crowding his thoughts. He needed to get back to the ranch, sit down with her, learn what her life had truly been in Virginia City—and what they were up against now.
Whatever she’d run from, he’d see to it she was safe. No matter what.
CHAPTER 8
Rose sat between James’s empty chair and Robert at the long oak table, listening to the easy flow of dinner conversation around her while darkness pressed against the windows.
The evening had settled around the ranch house like a familiar quilt, and she’d found herself surprisingly at peace during the long afternoon spent learning Mrs. Wang’s—Bea’s—methods for managing the household. The older woman had insisted Rose call her by her given name like Mandie did, though it appeared the men still addressed her with the formal respect of Mrs. Wang. There was something comforting about that small intimacy, as though she’d been granted entry into an inner circle she’d never expected to find again. What would she do if it were all taken away again?
“The weather’s holding better than I expected,” Robert was saying as he passed the bowl of roasted potatoes. “If we can get another few days like this one, we might actually beat the snow.”
Enoch glanced at the window, though he could surely see nothing with the darkness outside. “James should have been back by now. Hope he didn’t run into trouble finding men willing to come up here.” The way he said it made Rose’s stomach tighten. She set her fork down.
Mandie offered a gentle, “I’m sure he’s fine.” But her hand drifted to rest protectively over her belly. “Maybe he stayed in town to have supper with the men he hired. It would make sense to talk over the work while they ate.”
Hoofbeats sounded in the yard, drawing all their eyes to the window. Thomas pushed back from the table and moved to look out. “That’s James. Looks like he’s got someone with him. Three someones, actually.” Thomas let the curtain fall back into place. “Must have found his workers.”
Rose’s hands tightened in her lap as the sound of boots on the front porch echoed through the house. Voices carried from outside—James’s familiar tone mixed with rougher accents she didn’t recognize.
Her pulse quickened, though she couldn’t say why. Perhaps it was simply the thought of strangers in this place that had begun to feel like sanctuary.
The voices faded, and the brothers went back to eating.
As though he could sense her confusion, Robert added, “They’ll settle the horses before coming in.”
She nodded and picked up her fork, though she couldn’t bring herself to put a bite in her mouth. What if one of these men had seen her before? What if one of them mentioned her presence here to Vincent? The chances surely weren’t likely. She shouldn’t worry. Right?
The front door opened, and James’s footsteps echoed through the front room.
“Sorry I’m late.” He appeared in the doorway. His hair was windblown, his shirt dusty from the road, but his eyes immediately sought Rose’s face across the table. Something flickered in his expression—relief, perhaps. At finding her still there? “The men are getting settled in the barn.”
Enoch gestured to the empty chair. “We saved you a plate. Who’d you find?”
“Three good ones, I think. Pete and Jake Clawson—you remember them—and a fellow named Bill Carter.” James moved to his chair, but his gaze kept returning to Rose with an intensity that made her stomach twist.
“They’ll be in to eat in a few minutes.” James sank back in his seat. Something in his voice carried an edge she couldn’t quite place—tension beneath the casual words. “Mrs. Wang, I hope there’s enough food. They’ve had a long ride.”
“Always enough food in this house.” Bea rose from her chair and marched into the kitchen. “I get more plates ready.”
Rose started to stand as well. “Let me help?—”
“No, no. You sit. Eat.” Mrs. Wang waved her down, but Rose had already pushed back from the table. The familiar work would give her something to focus on besides the knot of anxiety forming in her chest.
In the kitchen, she helped Mrs. Wang arrange plates while trying to shake the feeling that something had shifted. The way James had looked at her when he’d walked in—not with his usual warmth, but with something that felt almost like worry.
