No one knew him here. It was a fresh start.
And that was exactly what he needed.
Chapter Three
One more person inthe kitchen would likely send Josie into labor far too early, particularly with Hannah and Dot bickering nonstop and the dogs underfoot. Leaving Belle to sort that mess out, Lara excused herself to collect the washing that hung behind the house.
Lara made quick work of gathering the linens, shaking them out to remove the ever-present dust, and folding them neatly. Basket at her side, she took the long way around the front of the house. It was to avoid the chaos in the kitchen, she told herself.
And maybe to catch a glimpse of Mr. King, but she would never admit that.
The barn door stood open, and his things lay in a neat heap just outside the door. Lara paused, worrying her lip with her teeth. It would be a nice gesture to carry them into the bunkhouse for him. And she’d do just about anything to make him want to stay here. Josie was so worn out, trying to keep up with the ranch chores that George and Arlen couldn’t do alone. They desperately needed Mr. King’s help so Josie could finally rest.
Lara set her basket down and began to gather Mr. King’s bags and blankets. It would give her a good excuse to check in on the bunkhouse, ensure everything was clean and that there were linens on the bed.
His bags weren’t heavy, and as she carried them to the bunkhouse, Lara wondered how a man could travel with so little. When she and Belle came to the ranch from their parents’ home in Ohio two and a half years ago, they’d each brought a full steamer trunk and a carpetbag. And even then, they’d had to leave some things behind.
The air inside the bunkhouse was still and stale. Setting down her load, Lara crossed to the windows and opened them. Even if the wind kicked up and blew a little dust inside, it would be worth it for the fresh air.
Turning and brushing her hands together, Lara surveyed the room. It was in satisfactory shape for a place that hadn’t been used in nearly a year. She ought to tell him she brought his things over here, lest he think someone wandered by and ran off with them. Should they launder those blankets for him? At the very least, they probably needed airing out and a good beating to remove the dust.
She picked them up, considered them, and then put them back down. It was better to ask first. For all she knew, Mr. King found comfort in the scent of horseflesh and dirt. Lara smiled at the ridiculous thought. She was about to move toward the door when the corner of something—was that a photograph?—sticking out from his satchel caught her eye.
Without thinking, she knelt and reached for it. But the second her fingers touched the edge, she paused.
What was she doing?
It was one think to sneak those terribleMortgage Due!notices from the bank man’s saddle bag, but something else entirely to extract this photo from the satchel of a perfectly nice man who was to work for the ranch.
Yet her fingers still held on to the corner of the photo. What would one little peek hurt? It wasn’t as if she’d take the picture—it wasn’t there to cause harm to her neighbors, after all, like those bank notices. And it wasn’t as if she’d opened the bag and gone pawing through it. It was sticking out, like a fallen acorn just waiting for a squirrel.
No. The word blossomed in her mind, only for the roaring wave of curiosity to drown it out. It was as if shehadto know. And if she didn’t, the desire to know would sit like an itchy thing just under her skin.
This is why you left home.
This is why Belle feels like she can’t trust you.
