Finallyawake? Wade clamped his mouth shut to keep from sputtering a retort.
Hazel removed the bacon from the pan, wiped her hands on a rag, and turned to face him. In the dim light from the lamp on the table, she had an almost angelic look about her. Her blonde hair curled around her face in the heat from the stove and her cheeks were a pretty shade of pink. She wore an apron pinned to her dress, but as she gathered a basket and turned to give Wade a smile, he thought it suited her.
Which was an odd thought altogether. He needed help, not someone pretty to look at. And in all his life, he didn’t once recall imagining a beautiful woman wearing a pinafore and looking ready to work.
Wordlessly, he held open the back door. Hazel stepped through, and Wade straightened to avoid being close enough for her clothing to brush against his.
Hazel shivered in the morning chill. He ought to lecture her on wearing a shawl, particularly in the mornings and evenings, when the sun left the valley in the cool air of the mountains. But it felt wrong, as if he’d continue to prove himself worthy of her spite instead of her respect. So he shrugged out of his own coat and draped it over her shoulders.
She startled, and then glanced up at him in surprise.
“I’m not entirely without manners,” he said shortly. Then, before she could respond, he pointed to a well-worn path around the house. “That leads to the barn. We’ll tend to the chickens first, and then the cows.”
Feeding the chickens was a quick process considering all they needed was enough to supplement what they ate from the ground, and Hazel easily collected more than enough eggs for breakfast. Wade waited by the barn door as she set her basket down near the fence. Voices carried from the bunkhouse, and shadowy figures moved about to accomplish early morning chores.
When Hazel turned back toward the barn, Wade leaned against the doorframe, watching her as her eyes continued to drift out toward the darkened fields. The expanse of land under the shadow of night might frighten any number of women, but Hazel appeared curious instead, with no trace of fear in her expression.
It made him smile.
“It’s quite a sight,” he said.
She startled, as if she hadn’t expected him to speak. “It is.” She hesitated a moment. “How much land do you have?”
He chuckled. “If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Why don’t you try, then?”
“All right.” Her challenge raised the corners of his lips again. Perhaps it was the cloak of night that made him feel more at ease around her. Or maybe it was the fact that she met his prickly demeanor with a lifted chin rather than tears.
He gestured off to the left. “All the way down to the creek.”
Hazel nodded, and he realized she hadn’t yet seen the creek. It sat behind the line of trees, off in the distance, at the base of the mountains.
Wade pointed south, toward where they’d come from Crest Stone. “Remember that small hill with the single pine we passed? That’s where this property meets Isaac Trenton’s ranch.”
Hazel followed his hand as he swept it out toward the road.
“Down the edge of the road and the railroad tracks, then north to where an old Indian path cuts across toward the mountains. It’d take you about an hour on a slow horse.” He squinted, almost as if he could see through the darkness and distance to the edge of his property. He knew the lines of it by heart. He could see it in his dreams, as he had so many times before.
He caught her eyes as she turned back toward him. They looked almost black in the glow from the lamp he held. She seemed to study him. The moment stretched on, and just as Wade felt the need to shift from one foot to the other, one of the cows lowed from inside the barn.
“Oughtn’t we get on with the milking?” Hazel asked.
Wade nodded quickly and motioned her into the barn, not entirely certain about what had just happened.
Or why it left him feeling both uneasy and as if someone had trulyseenhim for the first time.
