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The Lone Cowboy of River Bend
Lori Connelly


The man they’re all talking about…Gossip has spread far and wide about the broken-hearted recluse of River’s Bend – and who will be the lucky girl to heal him!But Nate Rolfe knows his isolated homestead offers no life for a woman. Plus, he has more pressing matters on his mind than unwanted female attention, such as tracking the elusive band of cattle rustlers plaguing Fir Mountain, and the plight of his family’s determined new housekeeper, Hannah Brooks, who is like no woman he’s ever met before.…and the woman who could win his love!Hannah will do anything to protect her illegitimate daughter, but with no family, no job and soon no home, the future looks bleak for a woman of her reputation. So now she has no choice but to turn to the family her outlaw lover warned her against contacting before he died. Only, Nate is nothing but kind to her and little Jemma.As she is drawn into Nate’s life – and tempted into his arms – Hannah must decide if she can trust him with both the truth of Jemma’s birth, and her own bruised and wary heart…









The Lone Cowboy of River Bend

Lori Connelly







A division of HarperCollinsPublishers

www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)







HarperImpulse

an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)

First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2017

Copyright В© Lori Connelly 2017

Cover photograph В© Shutterstock.com (http://www.Shutterstock.com)

Cover design В© HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2017

Lori Connelly asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008263126

Ebook Edition В© July 2017 ISBN: 9780007544493

Version: 2017-06-21


Table of Contents

Cover (#u1d1dceae-51d4-50b0-9085-d3f3cc645756)

Title Page (#u0c647fcb-166b-5f71-9d9b-e364c3eb43f6)

Copyright (#u5e27e7d3-8918-5504-b16a-76329e1f354a)

Dedication (#u46787bfb-e28b-539f-bbcd-7ab9ef6c9ecd)

Prologue (#u7a249fa2-4623-535d-9a10-05b3654e4f01)

Chapter 1 (#u7c65f0c9-ec9d-5109-8c5c-7167228805f6)

Chapter 2 (#u70192470-cab8-5281-a4e0-2c3297ddac3c)

Chapter 3 (#ube821822-8dde-5e31-908c-83d83142fc02)

Chapter 4 (#u2db70372-6072-5b80-bdea-8c32e7146ad2)

Chapter 5 (#uc7e3762f-08a2-563c-bd8b-a0753ee1114f)



Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)



Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)



Author Note (#litres_trial_promo)



About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)



Also by Lori Connelly (#litres_trial_promo)



About HarperImpulse (#litres_trial_promo)



About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)


For my family




Prologue (#ua037a98d-1f80-55a7-9823-caec3612e2ad)

Silver Falls City, Oregon - November 1891


At high noon, Nathaniel Rolfe looked up, away from the teeming town square to the clear blue sky. The sun blazed gold overhead. On this rare winter day, not a drop of rain, flake of snow or cloud above was present, only the pronounced chill in the air suggested it was nearing the end of November. The drone of countless conversations around him increased in volume and his breath frosted the air in an irritated huff.

Restless, Nate straightened away from the old, weathered post as Marshal Evans’ voice cut through the din. He turned, giving his back to the gallows. He determined the best way to escape the crowd after the hanging while only half listening to the lawman’s statement. With nothing left to do, he tugged the brim of his hat down, shielding his eyes from the sunlight’s glare, and waited.

An expectant hush fell. The group surrounding him pressed in tighter. He tensed, eager to be gone. As soon as Nate heard the leaves of the trap door crash open, he started walking and didn’t bother glancing back. People who usually stayed at home during this time of year, rarely socializing with those outside their immediate family, stood young to old all around him, doing the exact opposite. He shook his head in disbelief, watching them crane their necks, straining to get a better view of the Nash brothers hanging at the ends of their ropes. Only the bonds of friendship and family brought him to this spectacle and he couldn’t wait to leave.

It wasn’t that he disagreed with the sentence. The two men convicted of the murder of Janet Payne and the abduction of his shirttail cousin, Claire, had been guilty beyond all doubt. They’d earned their fate. Still, Nate frowned when cheers echoed down the length of the street. He took in the excited crowd, hooting and hollering, celebrating death, and his scowl deepened. It was times like this he questioned taking part in society at all.

Nate quickened his stride, heading toward the Trail’s End Saloon on the edge of Silver Falls City, where he’d arranged to meet his friend, Matthew Marston. People littering the streets and plank sidewalks hindered him, slowing his pace. After only a few yards’ progress the sensation of someone staring at him prickled his skin, further souring his mood. Two possibilities sprang to mind. Occasionally a person took a less-than-polite interest in the scar a strand of barbed wire had left over his eye in childhood. He hoped that was it.

However, something odd had been happening lately. Women had been taking an undue interest in him. He pressed onward harder, somewhat faster, but hadn’t made it ten steps before a young woman planted herself in his path.

“You’re him, aren’t you?” She matched his sidestep, stopping him cold when he tried to dodge her.

Nate stepped in the other direction. “Excuse me.”

Again, she matched his movement, remaining directly in his way as she reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “I’m Nancy and you’re the-”

“No,” he broke in, hoping to stop her loud, high-pitched voice from cutting through the ruckus of the crowd and drawing more unwanted attention to him.

Her hands clapped together like an excited child. “Yes, you are.”

How did she notice me in this mess of people?

It didn’t make any sense. Nate gritted his teeth. He wasn’t unusually handsome. His facial scar wasn’t that remarkable. He wore the same basic clothing as most of the men on the street, sturdy leather boots with signs of wear, blue jeans, an oil- cloth duster over a wool-lined coat and a brown hat that had seen better days.

“I can’t believe I spotted you.”

Neither could he, but Nate managed, barely, not to speak the sentiment aloud. He didn’t try to question her, though. Recent experiences led him to believe it’d be pointless, asking the others hadn’t gained him any useful answers.

In the last several months while he’d been helping Matt, the Sheriff of Silver Creek County, and his cousin, Ben, track rustlers, someone had spread romanticized gossip about him. Only Heaven knew why. Now random women sought him out but how they’d known Nate on sight remained a mystery. At times like this, he could swear someone must have drawn up a sketch of him, then passed it around the county, woman to woman, like some sort of wanted poster.

“I need to go.”

“You can’t leave.” A slender, gloved hand clamped onto him with surprising strength. “My sister would die to meet you.” The cunning glee reflected in her eyes sent the sensation of being an albino deer, hunted for its rare hide, washing over him. “We brought a picnic and you must join us.”

Revulsion knotted his stomach. Too many people were acting as if they were attending the summer county fair instead of a winter hanging. He’d never understand why a somber event excited some otherwise good citizens. Nate fought to respond with the manners his mother insisted on from all her children even as adults.

“No.”

Her face fell into a crushed expression at the mere hint of harshness in his tone, reminding him of her youth. Nate ground his teeth again for a few seconds before drawing in a fortifying breath. He managed to tack on a muttered “thank you” before moving away from her as swiftly as possible.

The easy escape sent relief coursing through him, but before long he sensed someone was following him again. Hoping the young woman wasn’t pursuing him, he glanced back and discovered Sheriff Marston, the man he sought, a few paces behind him. Nate grimaced even as he paused, waiting. The smirk on his friend’s face gave him the distinct impression Matt had witnessed his encounter.

Nate shifted impatiently. His gaze swept the people near him, worrying Nancy, or another like-minded woman, would dart out to grab him. In seconds that seemed to take an eternity to pass, Matt stepped up next to him.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” His good friend sounded a shade too innocent.

Delivering a glare as his only answer, Nate resumed walking toward the edge of town.

“Don’t ask you about the fine young woman who stopped to chat with you?”

Nate flicked a glance at the other man, holding his tongue with effort. He was pleased Matt and his cousin, Claire, had healed their relationship, truly, but ever since those two had gotten back together the man was insufferably cheerful. He found a positive take in almost every situation now.

It grated on his nerves.

“She looked sweet.”

Ignoring the statement, Nate kept moving, weaving through the milling people.

“What was wrong with this one?”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he snapped, “You already know.”

“She dared speak to you?”

Nate didn’t respond.

“Were you this rude to the poor child?”

“No.”

“Really?”

The disbelief in Matt’s tone made him reconsider his answer. “Maybe, a little.”

“Shocking, your mother would be appalled.”

“Then it’s good she’s in Ireland, where word of my poor manners won’t reach her.”

“Oh, you never know, it might. Stories about the Recluse of River’s Bend have traveled throughout the wilds of Oregon.”

Nate halted abruptly, scowling anew at his friend. “It’s not funny.” He and his brothers were responsible for the family ranch while their parents were overseas. “I don’t want anything spoiling Ma’s visit.”

Still grinning, Matt raised an eyebrow. “Your mother hasn’t seen her sisters in over twenty years. I doubt hearing you’ve been rude would surprise her, let alone spoil anything.”

“You’re not taking this seriously.” Nate shook his head, moving forward again. “And I have to be rude. These women aren’t discouraged by polite chit chat.”

“You shouldn’t let a little attention bother you.”

“I don’t like it.”

“They’re just flirting with you.”

“Strangers? With no encouragement?” Nate shook his head. “They’re making a laughing stock out of me.”

“Those women were definitely not laughing at you.”

Nate leveled a look at Matt. “Last week, out on the Double J, Judson’s hired hands kept hanging back in the shadows of the barn, grinning and whispering.”

“They could’ve been talking about Ben.”

“They wouldn’t have been smiling if the subject had been whether or not Ben is the rustler.” Nate held his gaze steady.

“Good point.” Matt paused for a moment, then advised in a more serious tone, “Don’t let it get to you. Ignore it.”

“I’ve tried. Hasn’t helped.”

The long-legged men covered a lot of distance in a short span of time. They passed three storefronts before Matt spoke again. “Gossip usually dies if it isn’t fed.”

“Then obviously someone is feeding it.”

“Agreed, but you have to admit, it’s fascinating how far the story has spread.”

“I don’t need every woman I run into trying to heal my imaginary broken heart.”

“Don’t exaggerate. It’s only been a handful.”

Matt smiled in the face of Nate’s hard stare. “That’s five too many.”

“There has always been a woman or two seeking your attention, what’s a few more?”

His friend’s matter-of-fact tone frustrated him but a group of approaching women caused him to hold his tongue. Nate moved, putting Matt between himself and the group of seven. He bowed his head to hide his face until after they passed.

“No woman singled me out until the stupid story spread.”

“Emmaline Porter.”

“What about her?” Nate demanded. “She married a pig farmer from Corvallis.”

“After she spent a year trying to get you to notice her.”

“One misguided woman.” He waved a hand in a dismissive gesture.

“And Agnes Gardner?”

“Moved to West Bend with her sister.”

“Because you broke her heart.”

“I never spoke a word to her.”

A short bark of laughter burst out of Matt. “Exactly.”

“Your point?”

“The basic story irritating you now has been whispered by the good women of Fir Mountain for years. Someone simply built on what was already floating around.”

“You think I brought this on myself?” Indignation accented each word.

Matt shrugged. “Some women don’t appreciate being ignored.”

An increase in raised voices distracted Nate. He looked in the direction of the sound. A short distance ahead of them people had withdrawn, clearing a circle in the middle of the street around a handful of men who were shouting and shoving one another. A glance back at Matt revealed the somber shift in his companion’s expression. His friend appeared to be on the verge of stepping in but then Marshal Evans arrived on the scene. The other lawman shoved his way through the onlookers and in minutes had the situation under control.

“I don’t ignore people. I just enjoy spending most of my time alone. Nothing wrong with it.” Nate indicated with a jerk of his head the sullen men facing the marshal as he and Matt walked past them. “Some people could benefit from doing the same.”

“Or perhaps they need more time with others to reinforce proper behavior.”

Nate shrugged. “With time and patience you can make a coyote a pet but it’s still a coyote.”

“So you fear certain women want to make you a pet?”

“Cute.”

“My point is-”

“Silly.”

“That being reclusive makes you-”

“I’m not a recluse.”

“Oh? Other than when you’re helping me? When do you ride into town?”

“How often I’m in Fir Mountain is immaterial.”

“I beg to differ. The fact you’re rarely seen makes you seem mysterious-”

“Mysterious,” Nate scoffed.

“Mysterious,” Matt repeated firmly. “Especially after you moved onto River’s Bend. Ever since, you’ve come in for staples or to attend church only once in a blue moon. The women refer to you like some sort of tragic hero, finding you romantic-”

“I am not romantic.”

“Plainly the young woman disagreed with you.” Matt laid a hand on his chest, fluttered his eyelashes, then without missing a step continued in a high-pitched mockery of a woman’s voice. “After losing the love of his life, the poor man moved out into the wilderness, all alone, to nurse his wounded heart.”

“You don’t need to repeat the whole ridiculous story.”

“It’s what I heard Nancy say to another young lady after you stomped off.”

Nate shook his head. “So a twisted version of old gossip is being spread further. Great.”

“That’s the nature of gossip, twisting the truth.”

“So you still believe this is harmless tongue-wagging?”

“Actually, I’m not sure.” All hint of the good-humored teasing dropped from Matt’s tone. “The rumor about Ben is a deliberate, directed act. Someone wants to pin the rustling on him. The sudden attention to, and spreading of, your heartbroken recluse story has a similar feel but-”

“Someone is making me into a laughing stock.”

“If so, then why? You’re one man living in a remote area of a sparsely populated county.”

“Are you trying to say I’m not important?”

“In the grand scheme of things, no.”

“But?”

“I don’t like coincidences. Someone made certain to spread your story far and wide around the same time as the rumor about Ben cropped up. Perhaps, as a distraction.”

“From what?”

“Good question.”

“One you didn’t answer,” Nate muttered, stepping off the sidewalk onto the muddy road. “I need to get my gun.”

Only lawmen had been allowed to carry firearms in Silver Falls City today. Nate couldn’t have cared less whether he carried a weapon in town or not, but out on the range a gun was necessary for protection. Matt changed direction with him and they headed for a small stand, where a couple of the marshal’s men guarded the confiscated guns. The inconvenience of having to reclaim his pistol deepened his impatience and, noticing a line forming, he hastened his pace. He couldn’t wait to shake off the dust of this place and get clear of all these people.

“Because I don’t know. My first assumption may be correct.”

“Miss Collier?”

“Hell hath no fury like-”

Nate looked pointedly at his friend. “I did not scorn that woman.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t your intention.”

“I turned down a single invitation.”

“Publicly.”

“She cornered me outside after church.”

“Where half the town heard you say no.”

“I was polite.”

“I know.”

“And for that you think she…” Nate shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s clever, making your refusal all about your broken heart instead of being personal.”

“Seems like a great deal of trouble to go to over one man’s no thank you.”

“Miss Collier strikes me as someone who does not like being told no and if someone shared the old gossip about you with her, well, it’s not that big of a leap.”

“I’d think others would see her purpose, then.”

“Not if what she said fit the narrative.”

“Which is?”

“You don’t socialize because Faith broke your heart.”

“Oh for the love of… That isn’t it.”

“She did hurt you.”

“So?”

“Well, now it seems only the right woman can heal you,” Matt responded as they closed in on the men gathered in front of the stand.

“What? I don’t need-” He broke off when more men approached from behind. Nate rushed forward, securing a place in line, then continued when his friend caught up with him. “We’ll finish this later, on the road.”

Matt raised one eyebrow at Nate’s cross tone. “I look forward to it. I need a word with Gus before we go.” He nodded to the left. “I see him over near the saloon. Come join us when you’re done.”

Troubled thoughts rolled through his mind as Nate watched the other man amble away. Coincidences disturbed him as much as they did Matt. How was the resurrection of old gossip connected to the rustling? The answer remained as elusive as the identity of the rustlers. Despite months of hard work, there was still no hard evidence, just suspects and suspicion.

Ranchers throughout the county were growing understandably furious. Yesterday a number of cattle had gone missing from the Crooked Rim Ranch, a few hours’ ride from Silver Falls City. He’d met Matt there early this morning. The owner was certain he knew who was responsible. Frank Meyers had accused his friend of not doing his job because he refused to arrest Ben right then.

Nate reached up and rubbed the tense muscles on the back of his neck. If undisputable proof didn’t turn up soon, he feared his cousin would take the fall. Distracted, he was slow to step forward when the person in front of him moved and a familiar, smug, voice attacked.

“What put a sour expression on your face, Rolfe? Was the sight of those lowlifes’ necks getting stretched too much for a man like you?”

Great. Can this day get any worse?




Chapter 1 (#ua037a98d-1f80-55a7-9823-caec3612e2ad)


The man who had married Faith, the woman he’d once thought to spend his life with, stood behind him. What she’d seen in the short, balding man with a nasty attitude was beyond Nate. Randy Haze had always taken pleasure in cutting people down.

“Well, was it?”

His expression carefully blank, Nate didn’t react. To him needless conflict was a waste of time and energy. He stepped up and handed his token to one of the men returning weapons, hoping Haze would lose interest if ignored. To speed up the process, he pointed to the revolver in his holster, hanging on a peg to the left. When the man reached up to match the tag on his gun belt to his token, Randy persisted.

“Are you deaf, Rolfe?”

“No.” Nate kept his response brief and bland as he took his weapon from the deputy.

“Well then?”

When he stepped off to the side, allowing the line to move forward, Nate felt the other man follow him without pausing to collect his own firearm. He adjusted the belt around his hips before looking over, meeting the disagreeable man’s gaze. For a moment he considered responding with a few choice words, then decided Haze wasn’t worth his time. Without a word, he strode off to rejoin Matt.

“I guess what they say is true.”

Nate kept walking, heading for the men standing near the corner of The Trail’s End Saloon.

“You hide away because you’re a lily-livered coward.”

His jaw clenched, but he allowed the taunt to go unanswered, unwilling to show how the slur bothered him. The ugly charge had joined the gossip regarding him in recent weeks. His suspicion about the man’s involvement deepened.

“Trouble?” Matt asked when Nate joined him and Marshal Evans.

“Just Randy being Randy.”

The marshal studied Nate briefly then looked beyond him. “Personal issue?”

“Likely.” Nate offered a measured response. He was slow to warm to people and had only met Gus on a handful of occasions.

Matt, on the other hand, knew the marshal well and was more forthcoming. “Randy Haze likes to stir things up. I suspect he’s one of the people behind the rumors we talked about.”

“Like the one saying you need to be kicked out of office?” Gus turned, facing Nate squarely. “Was he bad-mouthing the sheriff?”

“No.”

“What was his beef?”

“Just trying to rile me.”

“A troublemaker?”

“Doubt he’ll cause you any headaches.” Matt drew the other lawman’s attention. “He probably came for the hanging and Nate had the bad luck to run into him.”

“That’s over.” Tone crisp, Gus straightened his hat. “I’ll have a word with Haze, get him headed out of my town.” He nodded to Matt. “Thanks for the update. I’ll see you next week.” Then he directed another nod at Nate. “Rolfe.”

“Anything new?” Matt asked, as they watched Gus personally speed the process of returning Randy’s weapon then engage the man in conversation.

“Same as last time. Trying to provoke me.” Nate gestured toward the corral some yards away, eager to get his horse and head out of town. “You ready to-”

Suddenly Haze stomped off, heading in the direction of the livery. Fresh impatience flooded Nate. Unwilling to suffer a second encounter with Randy, he became a statue, tracking the other man with a hooded glare until he entered the building.

“Hell.”

“Best to avoid him,” Matt cautioned.

“I do. The man does not like me.”

“Because of Faith?”

“I guess.” Nate stepped out into the street, restless. “But why? She chose him.”

“Some men never warm to their wife’s first love.”

Nate kicked a rock. “Keen observation, Lawman.”

“I aim to please.”

Randy walked outside, leading his bay horse before Nate could reply. The shopkeeper looked at them and smirked before swinging up into the saddle. Without further incident, he rode away, heading out of town on the road leading to Fir Mountain.

“Let’s get out of here.” Nate didn’t wait for agreement. On edge, he needed to move. His long strides ate the short distance to the corral.

“What’s your rush? If we hurry we’ll catch up to Haze.”

“I need to get out of this town to where I can breathe.”

Nate didn’t pause, moving quickly past the split-rail fence and into the livery, not stopping until he reached the stall with his horse, Jack. With swift, sure movements, he readied the gelding for travel. Matt followed his lead, whistling, while he worked in the next stall. The men were back outside and mounted within minutes. They rode out of Silver Falls City at a brisk walk, an appropriate pace for moving through the outskirts of a heavily populated town, yet frustratingly slow, in his opinion.

“You told Evans you’re suspicious of Haze.”

“And you’re wondering why?”

“Last time we talked, you weren’t.”

Several seconds passed. They continued forward, following a worn pathway through a stand of fir trees leading to a rougher, less-traveled road than the one Haze had chosen. Nate held to the slow pace, waiting for a response. After some time he almost prompted his friend but one look at Matt’s solemn expression caused him to hold his tongue.

“I had a long talk with Mercy.”

A sinking feeling settled in his gut after the sheriff finally spoke. His friend had seen Faith’s little sister in the company of Miss Collier often but Nate couldn’t believe she had any part in spreading the nasty rumors. She’d always been sweet to him.

“I don’t think-”

“She said Miss Collier encouraged gossip about you. Mercy tried to rein it in but others sympathized with the woman.”

“Why? I spoke to her once.” Nate was succinct.

“I hear she has an artful way with the truth.”

“What does this have to do with Haze?”

“I’ve reason to believe he learned about Ben and told her.”

Nate’s hand tightened on the reins. He resisted the urge to put his heels to his mount and let a long, hard ride bring calm. “New rumors?”

“No.” Tension filled Matt’s voice. “The original ones. The rustling started when he showed up in Fir Mountain. Speculation about his past. Stirring distrust without making an accusation.”

“Allowing people to draw the obvious conclusion.”

“Then repeat it as truth.”

Nate shook his head, too frustrated to speak. There was no evidence his cousin had been an outlaw in Cedar Ridge but the fact that the Nash brothers had stalked Ben and his wife all the way to Oregon cast suspicion. The possibility haunted the man since he couldn’t confirm or deny it. An injury caused him some permanent memory loss before they’d moved. Only family members, Matt, Sean, Matt’s deputy, some Idaho lawmen, and a judge knew there was a chance he had a criminal past. Of that group, just those closest to him lived in Fir Mountain. It felt unbelievable one of them let the information slip.

Yet, one of them had, to Haze of all people.

Troubled, Nate squeezed his knees tighter, urging Jack to a faster pace. He’d met Ben for the first time last spring and believed his cousin had been honest, openly sharing concerns about his past with them from the start. He’d proven to be a hard, dependable worker on the Bar 7 and a good friend.

Matt had inquired about the Idaho crimes at Ben’s request but there was no evidence of his involvement. Only one witness ever caught a good look at the robbers and he’d identified the Nash brothers. Since they were already set to hang, the sheriff from Cedar Ridge considered charging them with more offences a waste of time. A judge agreed. With the cases solved in the eyes of the law, and knowing he’d likely never recall the past, Ben accepted the ruling. He wanted to put it behind him now and not speak of it again.

Who, then, had provided fodder for gossip?

The slim possibilities flipped through Nate’s mind for the thousandth time. Matt interviewed everyone with a connection, the Idaho lawmen, Judge Littleton, Claire and her family, Nate’s brothers, even Evie, Ben’s wife, hadn’t been spared. His cousin had confided their relationship had gone through a rough patch but the marriage was rock solid and enviable now. The couple was expecting a baby soon and, in his opinion, deserved peace.

However, everyone Matt had spoken to denied speaking of Ben’s past even as the rumors spread. His sheriff friend had a gut feeling that discovering who wanted to pin the rustling on his cousin would help solve the crimes plaguing his county. With no witnesses, tracks leading nowhere or promising trails washed away by rain, and no attempts to sell any of the branded cattle despite statewide alerts, there wasn’t much else to go on.

The rattle of wooden wheels heralded an approaching wagon and wordlessly Matt dropped back, riding behind him. They rode on down the far right side of the road in single file, allowing the driver to travel past them. In the bed filled with people, Nate spotted Nancy’s pouting face. He slouched in the saddle and bent his neck so the brim of his hat shadowed his face.

Nate straightened as soon as the wagon turned off the main road, rolling out of sight. He looked around while Matt moved forward, riding next to him once again. The road, visible for a good distance ahead and behind them, had no other travelers. He breathed a sigh of relief. The tension in his shoulders relaxed to some degree until his friend spoke.

“If Randy is guilty then I’m afraid-”

“It’s not Faith.” Nate jumped in. She was a good woman. It wasn’t her fault she couldn’t bear a life on River’s Bend. Few women would be content to live so far from others. “She had no way of knowing about Ben’s past before the rumors started.”

“I know. This isn’t about her.”

His friend’s almost hesitant tone had him slow his mount to a walk again. “Then who?”

“Claire caught Haze eavesdropping on some ranch hands in his store the other day.”

“And you waited until now to mention it?”

“It was a bit crowded at the hanging.”

“What about before?”

“I needed to think it over.”

Matt was an excellent sheriff. His friend carefully considered all the facts in the crimes he investigated. However, in this case, Nate didn’t understand what needed pondering. Haze, the man who always enjoyed amusing himself at other people’s expense, seemed like a great suspect to him.

“If he’s been lurking in shadows, spying, then one careless mention about Ben where he could’ve…” Matt winced, causing Nate to pause. His eyes narrowed, and certain he wouldn’t like the answer, asked, “What haven’t you said?”

“It may have been Claire.”

“What?” The word exploded from him, both a question and a demand.

Although he and Claire were more distantly related, their mothers were cousins themselves rather than the closer blood tie he shared with Ben because their fathers were siblings, Nate had grown up with the woman. Her family lived down the road. Feisty and fiercely independent, she was as loyal as the day was long. He scowled. If his friend didn’t understand her nature, he had no business marrying her.

Matt studied him for a minute before responding. “For a man who prides himself on his calm nature, you’re testy today.”

“For good reason,” Nate bit out. A loner, even now, some miles away from the crowded city, he felt on edge. And this conversation didn’t help. “You knew what to expect when you asked for my help.”

“The skills of one of the best trackers in Oregon?”

“The best,” Nate agreed, a quiet statement of fact without a hint of boast.

“The companionship of a good friend, who will have my back.”

“Always.”

“And a man grumpier than a bear roused from hibernation when forced to be among people.”

“You’re stalling. Stop,” he demanded in a low, impatient rumble. “Explain what you meant about Claire.”

Matt released a breath sounding just short of a sigh. “When we were apart, she and Evie talked a lot.”

“So?”

“Sometimes they came into town for lunch and… Look, she and Evie are close, like sisters. Claire would never deliberately do anything to hurt her or Ben.”

“I know. Do you?” Nate’s tone was unyielding.

“Yes. But if Haze had been lurking around the livery where they’d leave the buggy or…”

A number of possibilities sprang to mind and some of his defensiveness eased. “I can see how it may have happened.”

“Claire feels horrible.”

“She shouldn’t. If it’s true, then the blame is Haze’s and his alone.”

“Remember, this is all speculation,” Matt cautioned.

“You inferred he and Miss Collier are friends.”

“He’s been spending a lot of time at her bakery.”

“A shop she opened right before the rustling started, and despite few customers or goods to sell, the woman lives well.”

“The clever Miss Collier is notably seen in town during each rustling incident.”

“And you suspect her of more than gossip, don’t you?”

“If Haze is the brains behind the gang rustling, and has played me for a fool all these months.” His friend’s serious expression became grim. “I’ve no business being sheriff. The man is dumber than a mud fence.”

“And Miss Collier?”

“Is guilty of more than being offended that you wouldn’t walk her home. Of what exactly, I’ve no proof.”

To his surprise, Nate found he missed his friend’s earlier good humor and offered support. “You’re making progress.”

“Too damn little.”

The truth of those harsh words weighed heavy on the two men. Over the next few miles conversation dwindled until they were barely exchanging a word. Each had been lost in their own thoughts for some time as they reached the anticipated fork in the road. When the friends moved a few feet off the road and pulled up, they focused on the reason for Nate’s side trip.

“You think Alice is ready to come home now?”

The Rolfes’ long-time housekeeper was like a second mother to Nate and his siblings. He gazed off to the south. She’d left several months ago to help her son following the death of his wife. “Hope so.”

“Jed was… poorly when I stopped by.”

Drunk, as he’d been at the funeral? The one brief letter Alice sent hadn’t mentioned trouble but Nate sensed something was wrong. Concerned, he’d asked Matt to drop by Jed’s place when the sheriff was in that part of the county last week. He looked back at his friend. The pity reflected in the other man’s gaze seemed to confirm his notion. With a nod, he acknowledged the information.

“Come over when you get back.”

“Will do.”

The two men parted ways. Matt continued west, heading toward Fir Mountain, while Nate aimed for a small farm near Ashwood. As much as he longed to be heading home too, riding south granted something he treasured, time alone. Between working on the Bar 7 with his brothers while his parents were away and helping Matt, it was rare to have a moment to call his own.

With almost a day’s ride ahead, he avoided towns and other travelers whenever possible. Nate had had his fill of people. By late afternoon, he felt more like himself than he had in a long while. He made camp in an empty meadow at dusk despite noting a few nearby farms.

Rain drizzled off and on. His tiny campfire provided more light than warmth. Jerky made a sorry dinner and his saddle a hard pillow. It wasn’t the most comfortable night Nate had ever spent but he considered it far better than taking shelter with strangers.

Late the next morning Nate rode up the road toward Redwing Farm. Grey clouds covered the sky, lending an eerie light to the day. He pulled up then reached into his pocket for the crumpled bit of paper his brother, Sam, had jotted down crude directions for him.

Nate studied the scribbles. A glance around seemed to confirm he was in the right place. He turned onto a rutted path kindness could call a road, riding slowly around a stand of tall fir trees, letting Jack pick his way forward. Minutes later, he crested a hill and headed for the house set in the center of a few other scattered structures.

The recent rain dampened the earth, muffling Jack’s hoof beats. He slowed his horse to a walk as he approached the wood-frame home. Dark and silent, with windows shuttered, the simple building looked deserted. No smoke drifted from the chimney.

Concerned, Nate scanned for other signs of life. Gently sloping fields stretched empty for a good distance around. The only signs of life came from a precious few chickens. This time of year, the lack of crops didn’t disturb him but he’d expected to see more animals as well as a person or two.

Nate dismounted, looped his reins around a porch post then walked up to the door. No one responded to him knocking. At a loss, he returned to Jack and climbed back in the saddle.

The stillness pricked at his nerves even though silence didn’t normally bother him. On his homestead only the sounds of nature filled most days. The quiet he found at River’s Bend was peaceful. But here… what he felt was… disquieting.

Leather creaked as Nate shifted in the saddle, searching for someone, anyone. No one moved about tending chores. Not a flicker of movement caught his eye. The corral didn’t confine one four-legged creature. Overall, the farm appeared neglected, almost deserted.

For a second, Nate flirted with the idea that his brother had given him wrong directions, then he dismissed the idea. Sam’s handwriting might be horrid but the man was a stickler for details. It was far more likely he’d read them wrong.

A gust of wind pierced the outer layer of his coat. Nate hunched his shoulders, chilled, as he considered options. After last night’s cold camp, he’d been looking forward to the warmth of a roaring fire, a hot meal, and a comfortable bed. Irritated, he was about to go in search of a neighbor for help when the sight of a board leaning against the barn stopped him cold.

Redwing Farm.

Although the cracked sign confirmed he was at the correct place, Nate felt frustrated rather than relieved. Worry weaved through his thoughts. Alice had known he’d arrive today. Well, she likely expected Sam, but still, she should be here, waiting.

Where is she?

His gaze scanned the area yet again. This time, from a new vantage point, Nate caught a flash of white on the side of the house. He urged Jack forward, riding past the building. On the far side, he discovered a woman with her back to him, battling to remove sheets from a clothesline in the rising wind. Silent, he pulled up and studied her for a moment although he knew she wasn’t the one he sought.

While he’d never thought to ask her exact age, Nate knew Alice had to be in her fifties. Her hair, once as dark as the night, now had liberal streaks of silver. The woman in front of him was bundled against the chilly weather in a long, dark coat but nothing covered her head.

The long, tangled remains of her braid whipped in the wind, holding his attention. The color, a rich ginger shade of red, drew Nate to her, a moth to a flame. His gaze never left the woman as he dismounted. For the first time he felt empathy toward those women who’d pounced on him upon recognition. This woman’s appearance compelled him. He left his mount ground-tied and strode straight to her, trying to make his approach as loud as possible so she wouldn’t be startled.




Chapter 2 (#ua037a98d-1f80-55a7-9823-caec3612e2ad)


The wind ripped the sheet corner out of Hannah Brook’s hand again. Frustrated, a huff of air passed her lips as she tried to wrestle the linen into submission, but even the aggravating task couldn’t hold her full attention. Worry gnawed at her, causing distraction. Her gaze kept returning to where Alice and the kids had vanished into a clump of scrawny oak trees. Sam Rolfe should arrive by midday and she wanted to be elsewhere before then.

Although the older woman had repeatedly assured Hannah the Rolfes wouldn’t harm her or her daughter, she couldn’t quite believe it. The fiery tone Michael used when he’d spoken of his relations remained one of her most vivid memories of him. The easygoing man became downright grim at the mere mention of his family. He’d been emphatic, warning her to stay away from them, but never really explained why.

Maybe if we’d had more time…

Hannah swallowed a sigh. She should’ve pressed him for answers. On days like today, doubts plagued her. She kept second-guessing herself.

Do the Rolfes have a right to know?

Alice had earned her trust, becoming a valued friend over these past difficult months. She’d confided something few people had ever known to her, the identity of Jemma’s father. The older woman promised never to reveal her secret but she wasn’t shy about voicing her opinion. She dearly loved the family who’d employed her for over two decades and believed they deserved to know. And Hannah’s daughter had the right to know them.

Hannah felt torn. As time ticked down to when Sam was due to come for Alice, she struggled to sort out her feelings on the matter and failed. Her decision, or rather lack of one, gave her a nagging sense of failure. Hiding never solved anything. Yet that was what she was about to do.

Alice pointing out the flaw in her plan hadn’t helped. It wouldn’t take long for the older woman to explain to Sam she wasn’t ready to leave, but given the distance he’d traveled, the man would likely spend the night. With no relatives she could claim and no friends beyond those on Redwing Farm, there was no place she and Jemma could stay longer than a few hours. Running off for a short time when he’d probably still be here when she returned made no sense. She’d lain awake for hours last night, debating to stay or not.

Hannah blew out a breath. Maybe it was good Alice was late returning with the children. Her friend could be right. Sticking around, meeting Sam, and getting a measure of the man might be the wiser choice. Wind whipped her hair across her face. She started to raise a hand to brush it away then paused, a sound catching her attention.

Listening, she stilled. A long moment passed but all Hannah heard was moaning from the house behind her as wind battered old boards. She wiped at her face with an impatient motion, clearing some strands of hair from her eyes before returning to the chore at hand.

While Hannah battled to remove another sheet off the line, she inhaled the slight scent of lavender. Her lips curved as a pleasant memory tumbled through her mind. Michael had stumbled across her mother’s place on another blustery day a little over five years ago. He’d caught her outside, charming her eighteen-year-old self with comments about her sweet-smelling clothing and his smile.

A soft sigh escaped her. Time had dulled the pain of losing him but sometimes a memory still brought the bittersweet echo of a dream lost upon awakening. With effort, Hannah pushed thoughts of Michael aside. She needed to focus on her present circumstances, not on what might have been. A decision had to be made and soon. Life didn’t pause in times of struggle or sorrow. A harsh lesson she knew well.

In her life, Hannah had survived losing a number of people she’d loved: her parents, Michael, and recently Bessie. One day her best friend had been here, smiling, happy, talking about her plans for Redwing Farm, how it was going to be a famous breeding place, then the next day she was gone. How fragile life could be, even for a young, healthy woman, was no longer an abstract notion but an inescapable reality. A worry she had on occasion became a nagging concern after the tragedy. For comforting, Bessie’s boys had their grandmother, Alice, and their father lived. Jemma only had Hannah.

If I die, who would care for my daughter?

The sheet twisted, wrapping around one of her arms. Is it fair to keep Jemma from the Rolfes? Alice could be right. Hannah tugged loose of the linen then threw it into the basket near her feet. But what if Michael knew something she doesn’t? Maybe I-

The scrape of footsteps disrupted her musing. Hannah turned, expecting to see someone familiar and gasped at the sight of the stranger stepping up to her. He was an imposing man, standing some inches taller and being quite broad about the chest and shoulders. In the diffused light on this overcast day, with the wide brim of his hat throwing his face in shadow, his expression was unfathomable. Under the weight of his dark, steady gaze, she hardly dared to breathe. They stood, still and silent, for a moment. Then he reached up and removed his hat.

For an instant, the image of another man superimposed over the one before her. Confusion filled Hannah. She took a half step back, blinking hard. Michael? As soon as her thought formed, the illusion faded. She saw the stranger clearly again, noting any similarities between the two men were superficial at best.

Their physical builds and coloring were much the same but there were obvious differences. Jemma’s father had green eyes that most often reflected inner amusement. This man’s hazel eyes were somber and the left one had a faded scar around it. Michael would have hated a mark on his skin. He’d been almost vain about his appearance, keeping his straight hair neatly trimmed and well combed. The stranger, on the other hand, reminded her of a trapper who’d lived near Ashwood for a time. His dark-brown hair had a thick wave to it, tumbling around his face and over his collar to his shoulders, giving him an untamed, wild look.

Her gaze lowered, traveling over his full-length duster to the battered boots made for work. Michael had fancy footwear, shined for show. As she looked back up, Hannah noted well-worn blue jeans and a practical jacket visible between the open edges of oilskin. Both useful items of clothing Jemma’s father would have never worn. His words, a memory, whispered in her mind.

No matter what, darling, a man has to look successful.

The stranger held out a hand. She stared at it for a moment still mired in noticing differences. Michael’s hands had been soft, clean, and well kept, the hands of a gambler. This man’s skin appeared calloused and travel-dirty, revealing he worked hard and outdoors often.

“Need help?”

Hannah shook her head, not in answer to his question but because she didn’t know what to say.

“You sure?”

“I. uh.” What am I doing? Michael was gone, had been for years. Comparing the men was silly and pointless. Hannah pushed away her memories and focused on the stranger. “Thank you, I’d appreciate it.”

Her tone became a little squeaky as the likely identity of the man popped into her mind. Her heart beat faster. She’d met him once, years ago, and even though he didn’t look like Hannah, remembered this must be Sam Rolfe, showing up early.

Should I tell him? Do I need to? Fear rushed through her veins. Hannah took a deep breath, gathering her composure. Maybe it’s enough that Alice knows. She gave him a polite smile. “You must be Sam.”

“Sorry, no, I’m Nate.” His hand still extended to her, he moved closer. After a brief hesitation, she grasped it. The contact with his rough, cool skin sent an unexpected wave of warmth through her. “My brother couldn’t make it.”

“Oh.” Which brother in particular didn’t matter, the man was a Rolfe. His arrival decided the fate of her plan. If she dashed off now it might well create the very interest in her and her daughter she wanted to avoid. She pulled her hand free, then remembered her manners. “Pleased to meet you, I’m Hannah Brooks.”

Nate smiled. The sweet, slow movement of his lips sent awareness dancing along her nerves. “Miss Brooks.”

The wind gathered strength, buffeting her. Loosened hair stung her eyes and whipped her face. Despite the weather, Hannah stood, rooted to the ground, staring at Nate until he lifted an eyebrow in silent question. Her cheeks burned. With a gesture to the basket beside her, she turned away from him.

They wrestled the sheets into the large wicker container over the next several minutes. When they finished, Nate picked up the laundry, carrying it past his waiting horse and around the side of the house to set it on the porch. Hannah followed him slowly, taking some time to think over her behavior. She joined him near the steps almost a full minute later.

“I apologize for my bad manners, Mr. Rolfe. We don’t get many visitors and you startled me.”

“I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, confused.

“That I startled you, Miss Brooks.”

“It’s all right, Mr. Rolfe.”

His expression remained polite but something flickered in his dark eyes as he nodded. “Nate.”

“Very well… Nate.” Something about his name had tugged at her memory. She sifted through the information Alice shared with her about the Rolfes, thinking furiously. “Oh, you must be-”

“Don’t.”

His abrupt change of tone, now rough and bordering on rude, took Hannah by surprise. Confused, she ventured softly, “The oldest brother?”

“I am.” The man rubbed a hand over his face. “Sorry.” Dark smudges beneath his eyes painted a picture of exhaustion. “It’s been a long few days.”

“It’s all right.”

Nate acknowledged her words with a shake of his head and a brief smile. An awkward silence fell between them then. Hannah, a quiet, somewhat shy, woman often felt uncomfortable in social situations. Circumstances had led to her having few friends as she grew up and, following Jemma’s birth, her world narrowed even further. Until Alice came, Bessie and her husband, Jed, had been her only friends for a long time.

Words flitted through her mind, considered then dismissed unspoken. Her gaze flickered from him to the yard beyond, then back again repeatedly, praying to see the older woman returning with the children each time. Unfortunately, aside from the man with her, the chickens were the only creatures in sight.

After another endless moment, Hannah stopped trying to come up with something smart and engaging to tell him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s all right, Miss Brooks.” Though his smile had faded, his tone, low, rich, and warm repeated the phrase she’d offered him with quiet sincerity.

“Please call me Hannah.”

“Hannah.”

His voice held a note she couldn’t define but it sparked a response nonetheless. Fire spread over her cheeks again. Silence returned. Hannah shifted her weight from one foot to the other, uncertain of what to do next. With Jed in his current state she might as well be alone and was reluctant to invite anyone into the house.

After several seconds, he prompted, “Would you let Alice know I’m here?”

“I will, as soon as she returns.”

“Where is she?”

“She took the kids fishing.”

“Fishing?”

His obvious puzzlement was understandable. It wasn’t a common activity this time of year but the children needed a break from the oppressive atmosphere at home. Jed had worsened. This week even the hours spent away at school didn’t seem to ease his sons much. Even Jemma, once a sunny child, had been too quiet lately.

“Odd, I know, but the boys were restless. They’re probably pitching rocks into the water instead of casting out line.”

“Wasn’t she expecting me?”

“We didn’t think Sam, well, you, would be here before noon.”

“Sorry.”

“No need. I’m sorry she isn’t here.”

Nate studied her from the other side of the steps, not attempting to move closer. “Should I come back later?”

“No,” Hannah answered, sounding almost breathless. She cleared her throat before continuing in a stronger voice. “You don’t have to leave. It’s just…”

“I’m troubling you.”

“No I… It’s not you.”

“Did Jed go?”

Do something fun with the boys? Hannah stuffed her chilled hands into the pockets of her coat. “No, he did not.”

“He’s home?”

“Yes, he is.” When is he not?

“Would you tell him I’m here?”

“I’d rather not.” With effort, Hannah kept her tone even, masking exasperation. They’d had an exceptionally bad morning with Jed.

“Why?”

“I don’t think it’d be a good idea.”

“He’s… poorly?”

Hannah drew in a deep breath. Something about the way he responded told her Nate knew, or at least suspected, Jed’s affliction. Still, she believed it was best not to say much.

“He’s… having a bad day. When Alice gets back, I’m sure she’ll explain.”

Instead of pressing her further, Nate simply nodded. The only sign of his displeasure was in the slight downturn of his lips, a suggestion of a frown. She almost sagged in relief. Even with Alice, his mother, the changes in her friend’s husband were difficult to discuss. The light-hearted man Jed had been before Bessie’s death existed only in their memories now.

“Would you like to sit while we wait?” Hannah gestured to the pair of rockers on the sagging porch.

As soon as the words left her mouth, Hannah started feeling self-conscious. She looked down at the ground by her feet. Few people shared her enthusiasm to be outside when nature decided to be rowdy. Slowly, she brought her gaze up to meet his.

“Thank you.” His tone reflected a sincere appreciation for her offer. “But I need to take care of my horse.” He waved his hand in the direction of his mount. “Is there room for him?”

“Room?” He thinks the farm is still functioning. The words to explain stuck in her throat. Without talking about Jed, it’d be impossible. “Yes, there is.”

“Would you mind showing us?”

“Us?” Startled, Hannah glanced around, looking for his companion.

Nate nodded toward his horse. “Jack and I.”

“Jack?” In all the years Hannah had known Bessie, she’d heard several strange names given to horses but they usually bordered on fanciful. “You named your horse Jack?”

“Yes.” Nate headed toward the young, reddish-brown horse. “It suits him.”

“I’m sure it does,” she affirmed, more to herself than him.

The wind carried the clean scent of recent rain to her as she waited, reminding Hannah a storm threatened. Why hasn’t she brought the kids home? She turned, looking at the spot where they’d most likely emerge from the tree line along the south field. There was no sign of them. Despite having complete trust in the other woman, worry nagged at her.

“Hannah?”

His voice, soft and deep, drew her attention. “Yes?”

“You all right?”

For a second or two, she thought about sharing her concern, then dismissed the impulse. “I’m fine, but would you excuse me? I’d like to put the sheets inside first.”

“Of course.”

Hannah darted up onto the porch, where she picked up the basket before slipping into the house. She moved quietly inside, tiptoeing across the main room to put the laundry down near the table. Her mission complete, she turned, heading toward the door, then halted midway. This was still Jed’s house. By rights, she should inform him of visitors. After taking in a deep breath to steady her nerves, she changed direction and headed to his room.

In front of the closed door, she stopped, hesitated a few seconds, then knocked. There was no response but Hannah hadn’t really expected one. She turned the knob and opened the door some inches.

“Nate Rolfe is here,” she announced softly, yet loud enough to carry to the occupant.

Hannah waited several seconds, then took Jed’s silence as an answer itself. She bit her lip hard, preventing the release of a heavy sigh of disappointment. Wordlessly, she pulled the door shut, leaving the man alone in the shadow-filled room again.

Her strides were swift as she crossed the room, blinking back tears. By the time Hannah reached the front door, she’d recovered her composure. She exited the house, finding Nate waiting patiently, and hurried down the steps.

“Follow me.” With a polite smile, she paused at his side briefly, then continued on, heading to the barn.

Nate’s long stride brought him even with her in a matter of seconds. Their arms brushed. Startled, she stumbled on a tuft of grass. Her companion reached out, grabbing her arm to steady her.

Hannah pulled free almost immediately. “Thank you.”

“You all right?”

“I’m fine, just fine, thank you.”

Flustered by the unexpected contact, Hannah moved on at an even faster pace. They crossed the yard, scattering chickens as they came upon them. She was vividly aware of him every step of the way, feeling uncomfortable yet intrigued.

Like it’d been with Michael.

The memory of how swiftly she’d fallen for Jemma’s father rose like a specter in her mind. Hannah had given him her heart in a matter of days. But this isn’t the same.

Hannah reasoned away the disturbing thoughts. It had been a troubled day. Circumstances stirred up her emotions. Naturally, doubts and worries were haunting her. That’s why Michael had been on her mind. That’s all it was.

And although she’d just met Nate, Hannah could tell the two men were nothing alike. In fact, she remembered Alice saying the Rolfes had adopted their eldest son. He and Michael didn’t even share blood. It was impossible she felt the same kind of instant attraction.

True, the man was handsome. Hannah glanced sideways. Nate was striking in a much different way than Jemma’s father. His rugged good looks would have an effect on any woman. Besides, she was older and far wiser now. Nothing would happen. She knew better than to repeat history.

At the barn, Nate handed her his reins, then pulled open one of the heavy doors. A headache pulsed to life, pounding behind her eyes while Hannah watched him stare into the building. The sad shape of the interior appeared a hundred times worse to her now than it had this morning. The improvements Bessie dreamed of doing never became reality. She and Alice, with the children’s help, had done the best they could, which wasn’t much. Everything needed time, attention, and money and those were in short supply.

Hannah walked forward, leading the horse. After several steps, she paused to return the reins. The sight of Nate’s grim expression gave her pause. As she stood with him in the shadowy structure, it suddenly occurred to her she had no proof the man was indeed who he claimed to be.

Unease slid through her veins. Why had she made it clear that, essentially, she was on her own? Why hadn’t she insisted Jed come out to greet him? Hannah shifted, putting some space between them. At least if something happened, Jed could hear her scream then rouse himself to help.

No. A sick feeling gathered in her gut as certainty settled over her. He wouldn’t. Jed would ignore her as he had earlier, as he did everyone. Hannah stiffened her spine. She would be okay. Her nerves were likely getting the best of her. The man with her had to be Nate Rolfe, a good person, according to Alice.

“Something wrong?”

Nate moved closer, and even in the low light, there was no mistaking the concern in his eyes. Hannah slowly released the breath she’d held and a calming bit of logic came to mind. He had asked after Jed and Alice. A drifter wouldn’t have known about them. She needed to rein in her imagination. There were enough legitimate concerns to worry about without creating more out of thin air.

“No.”

“You’re pale.”

“I’m fine.” She gestured to his horse, wanting to get his attention off her. “You’re welcome to put Jack in any stall but the one next to Meadowlark and her baby. She is very protective of Tanager and wouldn’t enjoy close company.”

“She isn’t used to other horses?”

The note of surprise in Nate’s observation caught her on the raw. Many people thought her friends were crazy when they’d invested every dime they could borrow into buying this run-down farm and two quality broodmares. They’d worked hard to prove the naysayers wrong, adding horses over time. Meadowlark had once been used to a barn filled with other animals.

Now, the mare and her foal were remnants of a dream. Months of neglect had unraveled those years of hard work. After Bessie died, everything changed.

“She’s gotten used to being alone.” Without giving him a chance to respond, Hannah moved away, heading deeper into the building.




Chapter 3 (#ua037a98d-1f80-55a7-9823-caec3612e2ad)


Enough light streamed through cracks on the far wall and the open door that she didn’t bother with a lantern. She stopped by a stall that put almost the length of the barn between the gelding and the mare. After Nate nodded his approval, she showed him where to hang his tack and get clean straw for bedding. While he set to work making Jack comfortable, she fetched the horse a bucket of water, some grain, and hay.

Nate thanked her for the meager offerings. Still intensely aware of her companion, however, Hannah noted his first reaction was a critical tightening of his lips. Certain the poor animal deserved more, she felt bad but there was no help for it. They had limited feed.

Hannah worried for a moment he’d ask about having more and she’d have to explain, but Nate didn’t say a word, carrying on with his task in silence. Relieved, she stepped over to stand near the open doorway while he finished. Her gaze wandered over the interior to the yard outside as she waited. Neglect was clear in every direction. She could only imagine how it might appear to fresh eyes. The man had to see how run-down the place was and that there was a shortage of many animals besides horses.

Tears welled up, threatening to spill. It wasn’t all Jed’s fault. The farm had sat abandoned for years before he and Bessie bought it. Hannah couldn’t honestly say she’d seen any potential in it. She glanced back at Nate, finding him still brushing his horse. According to Alice, the Rolfes’ ranch covered over three hundred acres. The meager forty of Redwing Farm, a vast stretch of land to her friends, probably seemed insignificant to him.

A burst of cold air moved over Hannah. For a second, she could’ve sworn it carried the sweet scent of lilacs, even though it was the wrong season for Bessie’s favorite flower. She turned her attention outside. Ramshackle buildings dotted the area, the chicken coop, sheds, house, a second small barn, and the lean-to against this barn where hired help would’ve slept, sadly looking much the same as the first time she’d seen them. The memory of her friend’s excitement as she’d shown her around the farm then, pulling her from one falling-down structure to another, bursting with plans, filled her mind. She closed her eyes, trying to shut out reality.

“Done.”

Did the man ever say more than a word or two at a time?

Hannah opened her eyes and turned to face Nate. “Are you hungry?”

“A little.”

“Why don’t you come up to the house?” She stepped out of the barn. “I’ll fix you something.”

“I can wait.” Nate pushed the door shut.

“If you do, Alice will wonder at my manners.”

“I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”

His full sentence tempted her to smile. “It’s no trouble.”

“But-”

“Alice and the children will be here soon.” Hannah headed off toward the house without giving him the chance to respond.

Undecided, Nate remained near the barn a moment, then, with a shake of his head, he followed her. He would’ve preferred to wait for Alice outside. Although intrigued by Hannah, she made him uncomfortable. Besides, he wanted a look around. Jed had to be here somewhere and he wanted to see what exactly was causing the man’s bad day. Unwilling to be rude, he disregarded those inclinations and kept walking.

His gaze swept the area while he crossed the yard. Boards were missing from the corral. The chicken coop showed a number of clumsy repairs. A closer look at the house as Nate approached it revealed a porch on the verge of collapse. Evidence of decay was everywhere.

How many bad days has Jed had?

Nate caught up with Hannah as she opened the door. While an answer to the question dominating his thoughts would be nice, he didn’t ask her about Alice’s son again. The young woman reminded him of a nervous horse, visibly wary, although he doubted she’d care for his comparison. Patience was in order. Thankfully, he developed that virtue working with wild mustangs.

Inside the small home, Hannah stopped a step from the door and removed her coat. She hung it on a peg on the wall. With a silent gesture, she invited Nate to do the same before unwinding an old, faded shawl from her shoulders.

Hannah’s easy grace was a pleasure to behold. He couldn’t help watching subtly as she removed bulky clothing, revealing the soft swell of her chest and generous curves of her hips. His gaze lingered on her form, clad in a plain, brown work dress, several seconds before moving up to focus on hair the rich red of autumn leaves. It’d been a while since he’d taken the time to enjoy the beauty of a woman and he found himself on the verge of being rude.

Nate shifted his gaze, staring at the wall while shrugging off his duster, but couldn’t resist another glance at her after hanging it up. This time Hannah caught him, their gazes collided as she draped her shawl on top of her coat. She tilted her head to one side, puzzlement filling eyes the shade of the chocolate candy Alice made at Christmas. A blush bloomed over her cheeks, charming him. He couldn’t look away.

“Excuse me,” she whispered, turning her back to him, then walking away.

His ill manners sank in. He knew how uncomfortable being gawked at felt. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Hannah called over her shoulder, her tone polite but a little cool as she crossed the room. “Please, have a seat at the table.”

Believing further apologies would make matters worse, Nate moved to do what she’d asked without offering another. He looked around the space while heading for the decent-sized, rough-hewn table with six chairs sitting in the center. Along the wall to his right there were three doors and on the opposite one some shelves, hanging pots, a cupboard, and a small cook stove. Motion caught his eye. Hannah stood near the fireplace, in the middle of the wall directly across from the door. Within it, he noticed a pitiful pile of half-burnt sticks on top of dying coals, which explained why the air inside wasn’t much warmer than outside.

Nate eased his frame onto one of the rickety wooden chairs, still watching his companion. From a small stack of fir rounds, Hannah added one onto the pile with careful precision. The sway of her skirt drew his attention as she bent over, blowing on the coals. The fire grew, showing off crackling flames after a few minutes of coaxing.

Hannah straightened and he brought his gaze up as she turned to face him. “Would stew be all right?”

Be charming. Put her at ease. Think of something Rowdy might say. “Yes.” Feeble, Nathaniel. Try again. Use more than one word. “It would.”

“Good.” Although her tone remained polite, there was a hint of amusement in her short answer.

Not charming but, maybe, entertaining.

Never good with small talk, Nate chose to remain silent as she walked over to the cupboard. Hannah reached up, took a spoon and bowl out, then pulled a ladle off a nail on the wall. She turned and, from a pot left warming on the black metal stove, scooped him up a portion. Given the cozy size of the room, it took the woman only a couple of steps to reach his side, placing the meal before him a moment later.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes.” Eagerness seeped through his voice. Nate hadn’t bothered with a campfire in the morning and was craving the bitter brew. “Please.”

Wordlessly, Hannah returned to the stove. She took two cups off a shelf and filled them both from a coffee pot beside the stew pan. As she walked back, Nate glanced down at the contents of the bowl. He dipped his spoon in and stirred, inhaling the fragrant scent of herbs. Thick with vegetables but no sign of meat, the sight was consistent with serious financial troubles.

After setting a cup down by his bowl, Hannah sat at the other side of the table, directly across from him. “Aren’t you going to have some?”

“I’ll wait for Alice and the children.”

“Then I’ll wait too.”

“No need.” Hannah shook her head. “You can have a second helping with them.”

“But-”

“There’s plenty. Please.”

“But I-”

“I insist.”

“Okay,” Nate agreed, unwilling to offend her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Hannah sipped her coffee while he ate. For the next several minutes there was no pressure to converse. The silence between them felt almost comfortable. By the time he finished, Nate had relaxed a little.

“It was very good.”

“Thank you.” Hannah rose to her feet then picked up his bowl, taking it over to the worktop of the cupboard. His eyes followed the gentle movement of her hips as she walked away. Near the stove, she waved toward the coffee pot. “Want more?”

Nate promptly lifted his gaze. “Please.”

As she folded a cloth around the pot’s handle Nate became conscious he was staring at her. He shifted in his seat and looked over at the fire. The flames barely licked the wood. It was still a bit chilly inside.

Should I offer to build it up? The soft falls of her boots on the worn wood floor announced Hannah approaching. Nate almost spoke, then hesitated. If it’s small to conserve wood, offering may embarrass her. A second later, she stood beside him, filling his cup, the sleeve of her dress brushing against the skin of his wrist and the back of his hand.

Heat whispered through his veins. Hannah smelled sweetly of fresh air and flowers. He breathed in, leaning ever so slightly closer. Roses, she smelled like roses. The scent was a favorite of Nate’s. He nurtured several blooming plants on the south side of his cabin, grown from cuts of his mother’s garden.

Hannah moved away. Feeling the absence of her warmth, Nate wrapped his hand around the mug, welcoming the burning heat the fresh brew brought. The pretty woman intrigued him. Pursuing her was a tempting thought. Seconds later, he dismissed the idea.

It’d be pointless. Nate squeezed the mug tighter and raised it off the table, staring down at the steaming liquid. He had to keep this attraction under control. She wasn’t a woman who’d welcome a casual flirtation and attempting anything more serious would be foolish. In his experience, women didn’t care for the isolated way of life he loved.

Nate took a long drink of his coffee as Hannah reclaimed her seat. Her lips curved in a shy smile, causing his heart to beat a fraction faster. Despite knowing it wasn’t wise, he found himself offering her a brief grin in return.

Although he sensed Hannah had a lot on her mind, she didn’t break the silence. The quiet between them didn’t seem to bother her. In Nate’s opinion, it was a rare and attractive trait. Few people he knew resisted making casual conversation. Enjoying her company, he sipped his coffee over the next several minutes.

A noise from another room broke the pleasant mood. Nate put his cup down as he looked in the sound’s direction. He’d thought they were alone. Silence followed. He turned his attention back to Hannah a moment later. A shadow flickered in her lovely eyes then her gaze skittered off, away from his.

“Who’s here?” he asked gently.

Hannah shook her head, glancing at a door on the far wall.

A closer look revealed the one she was staring at was now slightly ajar. Jed perhaps?

Without thinking, Nate stood up and went to investigate. He heard her whispered plea to stop but didn’t heed it. A step from the door, as he reached for the knob, a soft hand gripped his arm with surprising strength and stopped him. He turned to study Hannah for a second, then drawn by an unexplainable force he leaned forward, peering into the room through the opening.

At first, Nate only saw darkness, then his vision adjusted to the low light. His gaze swept the room, catching movement by a small covered window. There was a lone figure, slowly rocking in a chair. The sight disturbed him and heeding Hannah’s tugs on his arm, he turned away.

Her displeasure was clear, full lips pressed thin together instead of curving in a smile. A part of him wanted to stomp into the room behind him and confront the man sitting in there. From her expression, however, he doubted she’d welcome that action.

“Jed?”

Hannah shook her head. She dropped her hold and moved away, returning to her chair. Nate waited a moment, watching her. She picked up her cup and stared down at the contents, turning it slowly around in her hands.

“That’s not Jed?” He kept his tone even, not allowing even a hint of his disbelief.

Hannah’s sigh floated across the room. “It is.”

“But you don’t want me talking to him?”

“As I said, it’d be better if you spoke to Alice first.”

“Why?” He demanded with quiet intensity. Something was very wrong with the other man. The feeling, growing within him for some time, now settled in his gut with certainty. “I’ve known Jed most of my life.”

“I know. Alice told me she started working for your folks when Jed was small, soon after losing her husband. But he’s not the same anymore. He’s…”

“Drunk?”

A sick feeling rose in her stomach. Is it so obvious?

The bleakness of the situation weighed heavy on her. While she struggled for words, Hannah looked over at the door Jed used to shut out the world. In less than a minute, she knew there was no nice way to present the truth.

“It’s likely.”

“Then I should definitely speak to him.”

“It’s not that simple,” she muttered under her breath, resentment crashing over her.

Jed wasn’t the only one who mourned Bessie, yet he behaved as though his pain was all that mattered. The rest of them had to grieve while continuing to handle the daily tasks necessary in life. They had an extra burden now, taking care of him. Her sympathy for the man was in short supply.

“Why isn’t it?”

Her cheeks heated when Hannah realized she’d spoken loud enough for him to hear. She shifted her gaze to meet his. “I… just feel you should talk to Alice first.”

“But won’t explain why?”

“Please.”

“I think-”

The sound of high-pitched voices pierced the thin walls, interrupting Nate. Hannah stood, smiling with relief. There was no need to debate further. She headed across the room.

“They’re back.”

As Nate watched Hannah walk away from him, the front door burst open. One minute the small home was almost dead quiet and the next energy flowed through it. A little girl, followed by two young boys carrying homemade fishing poles made of long sticks and string hurried through the door. Their presence soon filled the space as only children can, with eagerness, excitement, and the joy of simply being alive.

Nate felt a sudden and unexpected longing for his family. Normally he spent long stretches of time alone and knowing his loved ones were nearby, within a day’s ride should the urge to visit overtake him, pleased him. Now it was different. His parents, sister, and Alice were all away from the Bar 7. Ben and his brothers remained on the family ranch but all had been busy with their own concerns. He worried his close-knit family was drifting apart.

“Mama, look.” The little girl ran up to Hannah waving a large pinecone.

Disappointment shot through Nate while Hannah admired her daughter’s prize. It wasn’t logical but a part of him wanted to pursue her. He should’ve known she was married. The men around here would have to be blind not to notice her.

Hannah smoothed back the little girl’s hair, drawing his gaze to her hand. She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Although some couples couldn’t afford rings, another option intrigued him. She could be a widow, young to be so, but possible. He shouldn’t care. Even so, the thought lightened his mood.

Footsteps sounded on the porch. Nate looked over in time to see Alice appear in the doorway. The older woman was a welcome sight. Pleased she was finally here, he smiled. As she stepped inside and shut the door, he closed the distance between them.

“Nathaniel.” Alice smiled her delight, then enveloped him in a hug. “However did Sam convince you to come in his place?”

“I was helping Matt near here.”

“More rustling?”

“Yes, but right now,” Nate kept his voice low as he eased out of her embrace so it wouldn’t carry to where the children had gathered near Hannah, “I’m more concerned about you.”

“I’m fine.”

Nate studied the woman a moment. Although Alice was years older than his mother, it had never been readily apparent until now. New wrinkles lined her face. Dark circles smudged her eyes, giving her a bruised look. Since he’d last seen her, she seemed to have aged years instead of months.

“I don’t believe so. Things are rough here, aren’t they?”

“I am fine.” Her expression turned somber. “As much as I can be.” She nodded toward the little ones. “We’ll talk after they’re in bed.”

“That won’t be for hours.”

“Is there someplace you need to be?”

“Well, I came to bring you home,” he stated in a matter-of- fact tone.

Alice raised an eyebrow. “Did you plan on leaving now?”

“I figured you’d be ready to go.”

“I’m not, but if I was, you really want to leave this late in the day?”

“Yes, but an early start tomorrow would make better sense.”

“Exactly, so make yourself comfortable.”

“Couldn’t we step outside?” He all but whispered, noticing the children were quiet, likely listening.

Alice shook her head. “Little pitchers have big ears.”

“But-”

“It’ll keep, Nathaniel, trust me.”

Her words were gentle but Alice gave him a look Nate had become familiar with growing up. Nothing would change her mind. She gestured with one hand toward the table, calling to the boys. Long experience told him arguing with her was like talking to a fence post, pointless, so he gave up.

“Who are you?” The oldest boy, who couldn’t be more than seven, stepped in front of him while his brother went straight to Alice.

The stubborn angle of his jaw, dark-blond hair and bright- blue eyes proclaimed him as Jed’s son. The anxiety and bravado in his tone stirred empathy. This child felt threatened, regarding him with clear suspicion.

“I’m Nate.” He sank down, crouching before the boy. “Do you remember me?”

“No.”

Alice started to chide the boy for his rudeness but Nate glanced up at her, asking silently for her to let him handle the matter. To his surprise, she did. The woman resumed peeling off the other boy’s jacket without another word.

“It’s been a long time, Jason.”

“How do you know my name?” The child’s tone was only a shade more polite.

“Your grandmother became our housekeeper when I was about your age. I grew up with your father.”

Jason’s expression became mulish. “Grandma ain’t never mentioned nobody named Nate.”

“Jason.” Alice spoke in a gentle tone as she moved beside them, placing her hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Ain’t never mentioned nobody?”

“You ain’t- You haven’t mentioned someone named Nate.” The boy corrected himself.

Alice squeezed his shoulder in approval. “I use his proper name; Nate is short for Nathaniel.”

Jason’s mouth dropped open. His eyes rounded, becoming saucers. “He’s Nathaniel?”

“In the flesh.”

“Oh.” The boy’s gaze found his, staring at the man in wonder. “You’re the-”

“Don’t say it,” Nate cautioned in a tone gentle but weary.




Chapter 4 (#ua037a98d-1f80-55a7-9823-caec3612e2ad)


Nate looked down at the floor, expecting an innocent remark echoing some part of the gossip. Instead, silence stretched over the next few seconds. He brought his gaze up and found the boy staring at him, puzzled. Shame heated his neck. He should have known better. No grandson of Alice would repeat rumors.

“You’re not the one that works with horses?” Jason asked, sounding tentative.

“I am. Sorry. I thought you were going to say something else.”

His expression made it plain Nate’s explanation didn’t make sense to Jason but he moved on. “Would you tell me, um, us, about your horses?”

“Sure, later, if your grandma says it’s okay.”

Jason beamed his eagerness then scooted around Nate to hang up his coat. The younger boy, John, darted away from Alice to join Hannah and her daughter at the same time. He and the older woman crossed the room at a more sedate pace. As they approached the others, the little girl drew his gaze. She looked about the same age as John, three if he remembered correctly, with ginger braids falling over her shoulders. When the child noticed him nearing, she sought the cover of her mother’s skirt folds.

“Jemma, I’d like you to meet Mr. Rolfe.” Eyes, green as the fir trees of his home, peered out at him, shyly. “Nate, this is my daughter.”

Once more, he crouched down to a child’s eye level. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, little miss.”

“Hi,” She greeted him with a timid whisper.

Nate smiled, then trying not to overwhelm her, straightened back up. He reclaimed his seat and cup of coffee. Jason started peppering him with questions about horses and, over time, as he patiently answered them, his brother grew comfortable with him as well. To his surprise, he found himself enjoying their quiet but non-stop chatter while washing up then settling around the table.

The following hours, though pleasant, seemed to go on forever. They ate, tended chores, and had polite exchanges. Both women tried to be cheerful but, at times, Nate could tell their smiles were forced. Tension haunted them. The presence of a man unseen but felt, Jed. He never emerged.

During the day, no one ventured into Jed’s room, knocked on his door or suggested including him. No one, not even his boys, spoke about the man. And, for all their chatter, the kids were subdued inside the house, far more than good indoor behavior warranted. Outside, however, the boys were boisterous. The stark contrast disturbed him. By evening, Nate was growing restless, eager to talk it all over with Alice.

Luckily, the children offered distraction. While not one of them complained about having warmed-over stew again, they each had a demand. John wanted more butter on his cornbread. Jemma asked for more carrots. At the same time, Jason started pleading for Nate to tell the promised story. The kids weren’t trying to be noisy but each had raised their voice, trying to surpass the others.

The high-spirited chatter put Nate at ease, reminding him of his childhood. It sounded so familiar, in fact, he almost grinned. Even now, when his family gathered for a meal, the result was much the same.

Hannah took her daughter’s bowl, carrying it to the stove to appease Jemma’s request. Alice spread another thin layer of yellow on John’s bread and, with Jason tugging on his sleeve, asking please yet again, Nate tried to think of an entertaining story. In the midst of all the activity, he somehow heard the low creak of a floorboard.

“Jed,” Alice announced softly before he could look in the direction of the sound.

Silence fell, swift and sudden. The older woman’s pale face filled Nate with concern. He glanced over at Hannah, wanting to see her reaction. She stood still, a statue by the stove, her expression a blank mask. His gaze next traveled to the children, each one silent, heads bowed with eyes cast down, then finally to the doorway behind him. The man standing there was an unsettling sight.

Jed and Nate were of equal height but he appeared shorter, standing stooped over like an old man. Clothing hung off limbs like the sticks of a scarecrow. Blond hair appeared a deep shade of brown, falling about his face in dirty, greasy locks. His face had the pale, grayish tinge of a person too ill to go outside for long. He barely recognized the man.

“Too.” Jed’s voice came out harsh and gravely as though it had been long unused. He waved one badly shaking hand at them. “Loud.”

“Sorry, Pa.” All his earlier eagerness gone, Jason’s tone was low and flat.

Jed nodded in response then went back into his room without another word. He didn’t bother to shut the door. Nate watched him shuffle across the bedroom to sit facing the window again, looking out into the dark, rocking. John made a wordless sound of distress. In silence, Alice got up and went over, shutting her son’s door with a soft click that sounded almost explosive in the dead-quiet room.

As Alice walked back, Jason pushed away his half-eaten bowl of stew and stood. “I have chores.”

John slid from his chair, joining his brother by the front door. Barely making a sound, the boys shrugged into their coats and mittens, then went outside. Nate stared after them, worried by their transparent excuse to escape the house. Their chores were already finished, done before supper.

His gaze shifted to Alice. She’d returned to her chair and sat staring in the direction of Jed’s room, the sheen of tears in her eyes. Troubled, he looked away, seeking Hannah. The woman had also moved back to the table. He heard a flow of comforting words murmured to her daughter as she snuggled Jemma in her lap.

His appetite lost, Nate stood up and headed for his coat, feeling the need to check on the boys. Hannah joined him as he fastened his last button. She handed him a lantern.

“You’ll find them in the barn with Meadowlark.”

Though it was common for even young children to have chores involving animals, seeing how upset the boys had been, Nate was concerned. “If she feels protective of her foal, she may snap.”

“They know better than to get into the stall with her.”

“At a time like this, you trust they’ll remember?”

“No, one of us follows them out.” She didn’t sound offended, just tired and matter of fact. “Tonight, it seems, you are.”

“Oh.” Nonplussed, he accepted the lit lantern, started to open the door, then halted. “Why go to the horse?”

“Meadowlark was their mama’s favorite.” A small, somber voice drifted up from where Jemma stood among the folds of her mother’s skirt again.

Nate looked down at the red-headed child. Several strands had escaped her braids, giving her a messy halo of hair. As she peeked up at him, her sad, serious green eyes appeared familiar somehow.

“They miss her.”

Three simple words relayed an understanding far wiser than her years. With a solemn expression, Jemma studied him. Nate got the impression she was measuring his worth, waiting for a response. He found himself not wanting to disappoint her.

“I understand.”

“Good.” The child turned around and scurried over to Alice, crawling up into the older woman’s lap.

Without another word, Nate headed out into the night. Worry quickened his steps on the unfamiliar dark path but he reached the barn safely. Once there he blew out the lantern and eased open a door, slipping inside.

One swift glance down the length of the barn revealed the boys standing in front of Meadowlark’s stall. Nate moved closer quietly, trying not to let them know he was there. He stepped up onto a hay bale for a better vantage point next. The foal lay in a nest of straw in a corner of the stall while the mare stood against the door. Only the murmur of voices and the soft nickers received in response were clear but he didn’t need to know what they were saying. All that mattered was they were safe.

Finding comfort in the company of horses was something Nate identified with strongly. Loath to disturb them, he remained in the shadows, allowing the boys a measure of privacy. They stayed for some time but when they finally shuffled by him, their tears had dried.

Nate trailed them home. Once they’d slipped safely inside, he relit the lantern and returned to the barn. There he spent a few moments with Jack, giving him affection, then did one final check on all the animals before returning to the house. Alice answered his soft knock, opening the door for him. The room was still almost eerily quiet and not one child, or Hannah, was in sight.

Assuming the young woman was settling the children down for the night, Nate followed Alice to some chairs, taken from by the table, near the fire. He waited until she sat before taking a seat himself.

For a moment, Nate studied the woman, who was like a second mother to him, while he figured out the best way to start what promised to be a hard conversation. Her hands clasped together in her lap surprised him. She always had a project. Even at the end of a difficult day, he’d seen her sewing or knitting. Once he’d asked her why she didn’t rest and she’d said it was her way of relaxing. At fifteen he’d found her answer odd, now an adult, he understood.

“Tell me.” His words were simple, delivered in a kind tone.

Her sigh, almost soundless, washed over him with a wave of emotion. “I can’t get through to him. He won’t listen to me.”

Nate kept his jaw from dropping with effort but couldn’t help shaking his head. Although he’d witnessed the sorry state of the man himself, her statement was hard to accept. Jed had always been especially close to his mother. He treated her with the utmost respect. Even after he moved away, a grown man, he’d returned to the Bar 7 as often to visit as to get advice because he genuinely valued Alice’s opinion.

“Hard to believe?”

“Yes.”

“For me too.”

“What changed?”

“What hasn’t?” Heart-deep sorrow filled her eyes, then she shifted her gaze from his to look at the fire.

“I noticed he’d been drinking at Bessie’s funeral. I thought… I figured he was grieving…”

“He was and is.”

“Grieving or drinking?”

“Yes.”

Nate reached out, covered her hands with his and gave a gentle, comforting squeeze. The creak of a door opening drifted to him. He looked over to see Hannah stepping into the room. Her expression took on a worried cast when the young woman noticed them. She started to turn around.

“Please stay.” Alice’s request made Hannah change course, cross the space to the older woman’s side and she knelt beside her.

Concern filled Hannah’s tone. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“You’re not.”

“Are you sure you want me here?”

“It’d be a blessing if you’d help explain what’s happened to my son.”

“All right.”

Nate stood and waved Hannah toward his chair, stepping away when she attempted to decline his offer. He walked off, quickly grabbing another chair and carried it back over. In less than a minute, they sat flanking Alice, each being supportive.

“Jed isn’t… coping well with losing his wife.”

“She’s been gone less than a year. Isn’t that expected?”

Alice smiled sadly. “Grief doesn’t have a time limit. My Harry has been gone twenty years and I miss him every day. It’s fine for him to mourn still. But…”

“His drinking is out of control?” Nate guessed.

“There’s that but…”

The older woman fell silent. After a time it became clear she wasn’t going to continue immediately. Nate looked to Hannah, hoping for assistance. She drew in a deep breath then picked up where Alice had left off.

“It’s beyond normal grieving. Losing Bessie the way he did devastated him.”

“The way he did?”

“You don’t know?”

“Alice was upset and we didn’t want to pry.”

“Evie had confided she was in the family way and Ben was nervous already. I thought it best to not share details,” the housekeeper offered in a whisper.

“It probably was,” Nate assured her. “And I don’t need to know now if it’s going to bother either of you.”

Hannah shifted in her seat, painful memories filling her with restless energy. “It’s still hard to talk about but… I think knowing what happened to Bessie makes it… easier to understand how he is now.”

“You’re sure?”

Over the last several months, a deep friendship had grown between her and Alice. The older woman had no relatives besides those in this house. There was no one who’d help her except, perhaps, the Rolfes, who Alice claimed considered her family. It was important Nate understood the situation. Once he did, Hannah would see if her friend’s faith in those people was justified.

Or not.

“I am.” After another deep, fortifying breath, Hannah began. “Bessie was expecting. She had trouble carrying a baby after John but that day she had made it past the months when she had problems before. She hadn’t been sick in weeks. I thought…”

Alice reached over, taking her hand. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I thought she’d be fine.” Tears welled up and Hannah let them fall. “So Jemma and I went to see my mother. She had been feeling ill for some time. The doctor didn’t know what was wrong with her and I was worried.” She paused, steeling herself for the hardest part. “I should’ve been worried about Bessie too.”

“Hannah,” the older woman chided her softly.

With a shake of her head, Hannah went on. “Jason said after their noon meal Bessie felt tired. Jed took the boys out in the field with him so she could rest. They found her collapsed in the grass on their way home hours later. While Jed carried her home, Jason ran to the nearest neighbor, the Hendersons, for help. She’d miscarried and kept bleeding. Dr. Benton told me that when he arrived, Jed was cradling her, rocking in the chair he’s likely sitting in now. She’d already passed on.”

“I’m sorry.”

Hannah wiped her cheeks with her free hand. “Thank you.”

“You think Jed feels responsible for not saving her?”

“Yes, without a doubt, and the guilt is destroying him.”

“Alice.” Nate sounded shocked by the sound of her despair.

“I keep hoping with time he’ll recover.” The older woman slowly shook her head. “But, the truth is, he’s getting worse.”

“He doesn’t look well.”

A moment passed before Alice responded to Nate’s gently delivered statement. “He rarely comes out of his room, doesn’t bathe, change his clothes, or eat. Mostly, he guzzles whiskey.”

“Perhaps a doctor?”

“He threw Dr. Benson out of the house.” Hannah grimaced, remembering. “The doctor refuses to come out again unless it’s at Jed’s request.”

“So everyone just leaves him alone now?”

Her spine stiffened. The redhead’s temper threatened. “What are you trying to say?”

“Easy.” His tone lowered, pitched to be soothing. “I’m only trying to understand.”

A silence fraught with tension ruled for a few seconds then Alice interjected, “I reach out to my son every day.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you don’t.”

“She wanted to come here and help him from the start but he refused.” Hannah wanted Nate to know Alice had tried. Memories from the weeks after Bessie’s death ran through her mind. She’d had great sympathy for Jed at first. But, as time went on, she’d grown both worried about, and frustrated with, his behavior. “When I wrote to her about his difficulties, asking her to disregard his wishes and come anyway, she did, straight away.”

“Alice is an amazing lady and mother.”

His sincerity sounded genuine and Hannah’s indignation on behalf of her friend eased. “Before, Jed spoke of his mother often and with great fondness. I’d hoped her presence would bring him out of it.”

“But it didn’t.”

“No.” Alice’s single word hung in the air a long moment.

Fresh frustration welled up. Hannah wanted to give Jed a swift kick in the rear for the hurt he was causing. “You’ve been a Godsend for me and the children.”

Alice patted her hand. “You’re trying to make an old woman feel better.”

“It’s the truth.”

The other woman smiled briefly. She shifted, bringing her hands back together in her lap. Her back straight, chin lifted, and expression proud, her gaze traveled from Hannah to Nate.

“The hour is late. We need to speak of practical matters.”

“This place is falling apart.” Nate kindly didn’t point out why. “You need at least one farmhand.”

“There’s no money for one. Last week, I had to charge the supplies we needed to Jed’s store account because there was no cash. I’m selling off anything of value bit by bit to keep the roof over our heads and food in our bellies.”

“Jed isn’t working at all?”

“No.”

“Why didn’t you tell us? You know we’ll help.”

“As I said, I kept thinking he’d get better.” Alice reached up and patted Nate’s cheek, as she did with the children. “And I know you all would help. For now, understanding I can’t return any time soon is enough. I just can’t leave Jed and the boys like this.”

Hannah, knowing how much working for the Rolfes meant to Alice, couldn’t help speaking up. “If you need to go, I won’t leave.”

“You’re an angel but, as we’ve discussed, staying isn’t best for Jemma. In fact, it may become necessary to take the boys away and I need to be here to make that decision.”

“Perhaps a man-to-man talk would help?”

The older woman’s sigh filled the room. “If I thought a talking-to would snap my son out of this I’d have herded you into his room straight away. We’ve tried.” She paused, glancing over at Jed’s door, then back at Nate. “Many times. But if you want to take a stab at it, please do. Just wait until the boys are at school tomorrow. I don’t want them exposed to another ruckus so soon.”

“His bad day?” Nate looked at Hannah as he referenced their earlier conversation.

“A bad morning for all.” Alice grimaced. “Because I tried to change the bed linens.”

His brow furrowed. “And?”

“Jed wants everything as it was the day Bessie died,” Hannah added in. “Changing even something small upsets him.”

Nate’s expression went from surprised to thoughtful. “Ben saw this fancy doctor in Corvallis maybe-”

“I thought of that. Jed won’t go.”

“What about bringing the boys and Jed to the ranch?”

“I knew you’d make that offer. I appreciate it.” With the stubborn tilt of her chin Alice indicated to all arguing with her would be futile. “But I want to give my son every chance here, in his own home, first.”

“I understand but if things continue to go downhill?”

“I’ll take you up on it. I may be a stubborn old woman but I’m no fool.”

“I’d have words with anyone who said you were.” Nate smiled at Alice, affection for her written on his face. “May I stay for a day or so? Fix a few things?”

“I’d be grateful.”

“Make a list. I’ll get started first thing in the morning.”

Alice nodded. “There’s one other matter I want to discuss this evening.”

“Of course.” His expression serious, Nate shifted, sitting on the edge of his seat.

The look in his eyes warmed Hannah’s heart. The man seemed eager, hopeful of hearing other ways he could help. If so, Nate would soon be disappointed. She knew what the older woman wanted to address an issue they’d glossed over earlier. Her job.

“I don’t know how long I’ll need to stay.”

“I understand.”

“Jed could get worse, stay as he is or, given a miracle, my son could finally start to heal.”

“Take as long as you need.”

“I worry, wondering how all of you are getting by.”

“Don’t, we’re fine.”

“But I will. So I want you to-”

“Don’t suggest we replace you.” His voice suddenly became granite. “Not. Going. To. Happen.”

The obvious effort behind Alice’s threadbare smile was troubling. “I love you too. But the work still needs to be done.”

“It’ll keep. With Ma and Pa off visiting and Becca back east, the house is barely used. The boys and I usually eat with the hands. There’s nothing to worry about.”

The expression on Alice’s face said she didn’t believe him.

“We are fine.”

“I have no doubt. But is the house clean?”

“We haven’t been making it dirty. Only I sleep there.”

“The laundry?”

“Evie is taking care of it.”

“Evie?” Alice raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t she getting close to her time?”

“Yes, but starting next week, we’ll be hauling our stuff to town. It’s a small matter. We’re fine. Don’t worry about us.”

“But I do.”

“Don’t.”

Alice studied Nate in silence, patiently waiting.

“I am not hiring a stranger to replace you.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“Good.”

“I want you to hire Hannah.”




Chapter 5 (#ua037a98d-1f80-55a7-9823-caec3612e2ad)


“What?” Nate and Hannah spoke as one, sounding shocked.

“Alice.” Hannah tried to control her reaction. “We’ve talked about this.”

“Yes, we did.”

“I’ve a serious concern.”

“Your husband?” Nate put in.

Husband? Startled anew, Hannah’s gaze shot from Alice to the man beside her. “I don’t have a husband.”

“Sorry.” While his tone relayed sympathy, another emotion flickered briefly in his eyes.

Satisfaction? No, it couldn’t be… Hannah pushed away the thought. “It’s a natural assumption.”

“I’m sorry you have to leave us.”

Alice’s gentle words brought tears up, stinging Hannah’s eyes. “So am I but…”

“You have to leave?”

“I…” Hannah hesitated, feeling awkward about sharing more financial woes with Nate. She decided to keep it simple. “Yes.”

“Jed can’t pay her,” the older woman stated bluntly.

“And you need to support your daughter.”

“Yes, I do.” The calm response she gave him was in direct contrast to the knotted anxiety within Hannah.

“You don’t believe Jed will recover soon?”

“I pray he does, but even so he wouldn’t be able to afford hired help, not for some time.”

“You’ve made plans?”

“I discussed them with Alice soon after she arrived.” When she confronted me about not drawing my pay. The older woman had been quite upset. Hannah didn’t regret the decision, though, and given the same circumstances, she’d do it again. If she hadn’t, there wouldn’t have been enough for necessities now. “I don’t want to go, not when…”

“Bessie would understand.” Emotions – sorrow, love, and concern – flickered in the older woman’s eyes like the flames warming the room, but her statement carried conviction.

Hannah knew Alice was right, logically. Bessie had loved Jemma. Without a doubt, her friend would’ve understood the needs of her daughter coming first. Reason, however, didn’t dispel the wrenching feeling in her gut.

“I still don’t like it.”

The older woman nodded her understanding before returning to her original concern. “Taking on my job would solve your immediate problem.”

“Your job.” Hannah leveled a look at her new friend. A mule would be less stubborn. Alice probably met few challenges she couldn’t overcome. Failing to help Jed has to be one. Sympathy snaked through irritation, softening her tone. “Hasn’t been offered to me.”

Alice waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Nathaniel will. It’s the logical solution.”

“I will?” The man referenced cut into the women’s exchange.

“Of course.”

“Alice.” Nate and Hannah spoke in unison again, expressing mutual frustration.

Startled, their gazes met and held. Silence stole the next few seconds. Her heart beat faster. Hannah shifted in her chair, unaccountably nervous. Finally, she glanced away, looking back at the other woman.

“You know, it’s more than a job I need for Jemma.”

“You’re worried it might be temporary?”

“Might be?” Nate interjected firmly, brooking no argument. “We’re not replacing you. So if I considered your suggestion, it would only be until you returned.”

“And if I can’t come back?”

“You will.”

“I appreciate your faith. I’m not so sure. For my piece of mind, Nathaniel, I want you to hire another housekeeper. Offer the job to Hannah. It’s what she and Jemma need.”

Shocked, Hannah’s mouth dropped open. It took her several seconds before she regained composure. Exasperated, but trying to be patient, she stated softly. “You’re not listening to me.”

“Of course I-”

Jemma cried out from other room, cutting the older woman off. Hannah immediately got to her feet. In a distracted air, she excused herself before hurrying off to her daughter.

“Poor baby, she’s probably having another nightmare.”

“Another?”

“Almost every evening lately.” Alice’s expression morphed from troubled to one of determination as she looked away from the door Hannah had disappeared through to him. “Nothing some time in a happier home wouldn’t fix.”

“And you think that home should be on the Bar 7?”

“I do.”

“I don’t believe you’ve thought this through.”

“Don’t underestimate me, young man.” The look in her tired eyes was sharp and direct.

Nate gentled his voice. “You’re under a lot of strain.”

“Yes, I am and if you hire Hannah it’d relieve some of it.”

“How?” he prompted, hoping to finish the discussion before the young woman returned.

“It’d ease my mind about you boys.”

Nate shook his head, dismissing the notion. “We’re grown men. No need to worry about us.”

“Oh?” Her eyes narrowed. “If there’s no need, why do I have a job?”

“Alice.”

“Nathaniel.” She patiently stated his name.

“We need you.”

A pleased smile was her immediate answer. “I miss you boys too.” Alice reached over, patting his hand. “But my son needs me more.”

“Yes, he does. That doesn’t mean someone has to take your place at home.”

“Sweet boy, no one can take my place.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“Hannah wouldn’t take my place. She’d just be doing my work for now.” She tried to reassure him.

“That’s different, how?”

“While your folks are gone, you’re doing work they would’ve done on the Bar 7. But you’re not taking their place.”

Nate shook his head, although he understood her point. Alice was right. Her suggestion made sense. He just didn’t like it.

“If I hired her, temporarily, what would happen to her and Jemma when you come back?”

“Offer Hannah a permanent job.”

“Doing what?” Surprise colored his voice.

“The Bar 7’s books? Helping with your breeding program?”

Nate ignored the reference to his plans. He was particular about who assisted with his horses. Up to now, he’d only allowed family to lend a hand. “She’s a bookkeeper?”

“Yes, but Hannah did more than the books here. Because they were still building up the place, she also worked with Bessie on the breeding charts and helped out in general.”

“That’s nice, but Pa handles the books.”

“And he’s hated doing them for as long as I’ve known him.”

“He does?” As Nate thought about it, a few vague memories surfaced. There were times his father grumbled under his breath or made an occasional grimace before heading into his study but he remembered no complaints. “I didn’t know.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice to have a bookkeeper in place before they return so your father would never have to do them again?”

Nate admired her persistence. Alice had a plan and wanted it done. “What then? I put Pa out to pasture?”

“No, lazing about for days on end would drive the man crazy but I’m certain he’d enjoy spending his time on other things.”

Restless, Nate got up. He put another fir round on the fire and listened to a bit of pitch crackle in the heat. “Pa could’ve hired someone himself years ago.”

“Jeremiah doesn’t trust outsiders easily, especially with money.”

“I know.” He turned to face Alice again. “That’s why your bookkeeping idea won’t work.”

“Hannah is a longtime friend of my son and his late wife and is now a close friend of mine. Your father won’t consider her a stranger.”

“I’m not so sure. And I-”

“Could do with some proper help.”

Distracted, he shook his head. “I’m doing fine.”

“Still keeping all the information in your head? What if you get sick or hurt?”

“Ben knows enough to help then.” Nate reclaimed his seat, leaning forward and assuring Alice, “I appreciate your concerns, truly.” He paused, taking a small breath then moved on, bringing up the point he’d wanted to make before. “You know I share Pa’s aversion. Bringing a stranger to live on the Bar 7 doesn’t sit well with me.”

“Hannah’s not a stranger.”

“You just met her.”

“Yes, but I’ve heard plenty about her over the years. She and Bessie were closer than most sisters.” Calmly, Alice looked him square in the eye. “Hannah’s a good person. If I had any doubts about her character, I wouldn’t ask this of you.”

“I know but… I’m not convinced hiring her is a good idea.”

“Nor am I,” Hannah announced from the open doorway.

But time’s running out. In measured strides, she crossed the room and rejoined those by the fire, a mask of composure concealing the nature of her thoughts. The notion of turning down a job, even a temporary housekeeping one, knotted her stomach.

“I meant no offence.”

“None taken.” Hannah clasped her hands together in her lap to hide how they shook. She couldn’t stop the effect of growing fear but refused to allow it to overcome her. So far, no other place had offered her work. Her choices were few. “But, should you be inclined, I’m willing to discuss Alice’s idea.”

Nate studied her a moment before offering a few polite words. “Another time, perhaps?”

“Of course,” Hannah agreed graciously. It’s fine. I really don’t want a job with the Rolfes anyway. Michael must have had a good reason to warn me away. Tension tightened a band around her chest. He must have.

Alice cleared her throat, drawing Hannah’s attention. “Will you both to give my suggestion some serious consideration?”

“I will,” she promised, in a whisper.

Somber, Nate also assured her. “As will I.”

“Good.” Alice got up. “Now, I’m heading to bed. It’s been a long day and this old lady needs to rest.” Nate stood, offering her his arm. She refused it with a weary smile. “Good night.”

The older woman walked away. After the dull thuds of her boots faded, only the occasional hiss from the fire disturbed the silence for a long moment. Uncomfortable, Hannah murmured an excuse, got up, and went over to start clearing the table. Nate followed, helping, unasked. Working together provided a short-lived but surprisingly pleasant experience. However, as soon as they finished fresh tension filled her.

Either she or Alice routinely tried tempting Jed to eat something around this time. Hannah dished up a small portion of stew, took a deep breath, then looked over at Nate. “Excuse me, I’ll be back shortly.”

“Taking Jed supper?” At her nod, he continued. “Would you ask if he’d like to visit with me?”

Hannah held his gaze a moment. “I’ll ask but…”

“It’s pointless.”

The young woman didn’t have the heart to respond. Without a word, she strode off, carrying the food into Jed’s bedroom. She moved easily through the dimly lit area straight to him. Hannah placed the bowl in his hands, then waited several seconds until his fingers flexed, gripping it before she stepped back.

“Nate is still here.” Jed didn’t give any indication he heard her. His gaze remained focused beyond her, out into the darkness. “Would you come out and talk with your friend?”

After waiting for an answer for some minutes, Hannah headed toward the door. The soft chink of the bowl being set on the side table next to Jed sounded loud in the quiet space. A step from exiting, she stopped and looked back, saddened. He hadn’t eaten all day again, to the best of her knowledge. She missed the man he’d been before: a good friend, playful father, and loving spouse. Bessie would be appalled to see her husband now.

Hannah blinked back the urge to cry and continued forward, closing the door behind her a moment later. Her gaze found Nate sitting near the fire again. He lifted an eyebrow and she gave a small shake of her head in answer to his silent inquiry. Without a word, she slowly walked over to join him, pausing on the way to grab the sewing basket.

“Would you like some more coffee?” She put the basket down on the floor next to a chair.

“No, thank you.”

As soon as he declined, Hannah sat down, picking up Jemma’s spare dress out of the pile of clothes needing mending. Pulling the needle out from where she’d left it, she settled back. There was comfort in tending to a familiar task, yet more than a sliver of guilt traveled through her.

Her little girl was growing fast. She’d outgrown all but the dress she’d worn today, filthy from running around with the boys, and the one Hannah held. The repair had to be finished by morning. She focused, keeping her stitches strong and small.

I need to provide better for my daughter.

It was past time to sew Jemma more clothes. I should’ve taken care of it weeks ago. It felt like there were never enough hours in a day. For a moment, the weight of her responsibilities threatened to overwhelm her. Hannah swallowed a sigh, unwilling to draw Nate’s attention to her inner turmoil. After a short time, she dug up her determination. Tomorrow, she’d go through her trunk and pick out some of her mother’s old dresses to cut down for her little girl.

If only all my problems were so easily solved.

Unexpectedly, Nate broke the silence. “Alice isn’t replaceable.”

“I agree. She’s a special woman.” Although Alice’s blunt proposal had been a bit embarrassing, Hannah knew her friend had the best of intentions. She glanced up at Nate then back down to her stitching, trying to think of what to say next. “Your ranch must do well to have a housekeeper for so long.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. It sounded like she was fishing for information. Her hand stilled mid-stitch while Hannah considered if an apology would make it better or worse.

“We do fair.” Nate got up, gesturing to the wood stacked beside the fireplace. “May I?”

Relief coursed through her upon hearing his casual response. He wasn’t offended. Stop over-thinking every word. She relaxed and resumed sewing. “Please.”

He added another round on the low-burning flames. “My mother likes working outside. Time often gets away from her. A housekeeper was a wise investment.”

Curiosity brought her gaze up from the little dress to the man standing nearby. “Your mother works as a ranch hand?”

“On our ranch, yes.”

“Even when you were young? With Jemma underfoot, simple chores around the house often take twice as long.”

“When it was just me, Ma claims it wasn’t too hard.” Nate returned to his chair. “Then she married Pa and, in short order, I had four siblings. According to my mother, Alice was a gift from Heaven.”

There was a slight curve to his lips, a suggestion of a smile, which intrigued her. In a few simple words, the love he felt for his family was obvious. Hannah smiled at him and for a second a thread of connection seemed to weave between them. She looked away, jabbing the needle into cloth nervously.

“How long has she worked for your family?”

“Since I was eleven.”

“Then you know Jed well?”

“He’s closer to Sam but, yes, I do.”

Hannah finished mending the tear, knotted the thread, then snipped the needle free. The hour was late. She folded the tiny dress and set it on top of the basket. It’s best to know. She met his gaze and held it squarely. Time is short.

In a pleasant but forthright manner, she inquired. “Are you giving serious thought to Alice’s idea?”

“I am.” The look in his eyes was unreadable. “Would you take the job if it was offered?”

“I don’t know.”

“Perhaps we should sleep on it, talk more tomorrow?”

A wave of exhaustion crashed over her. Tomorrow promised to be another long day. Suddenly, sleep held great appeal. In the morning, rested and refreshed, perhaps the problems facing her wouldn’t feel so overwhelming.

“That’s a great idea.” Hannah pushed herself out of the chair, up onto her feet. “In fact, I believe I’ll turn in now.”




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