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The Hired Man
Lynna Banning
A home for the drifter
Cordell Winterman is haunted by his mistakes—and the years spent paying for them. Broke and hungry, he takes a job as a hired man on Eleanor Malloy’s farm.
Eleanor needs help. Desperately. Her kids are running wild and the place is held up by spit and rust. But as Cord helps her set her home to rights, Eleanor realizes she doesn’t just need this enigmatic drifter with hunger in his eyes...she wants him, too!
“I’m sorry, Cord. Really sorry.”
“For what?”
“For everything. I’m sorry about Tom, and for being so weak after the pneumonia, and I’m sorry about your wife. I’m sorry you saw my apple trees in bloom on your way to California. I’m sorry you stopped.”
He sucked in a breath and held it, eyeing the daisy things he’d laid on the quilt beside her. Then he exhaled in one long, slow stream.
“Eleanor, I’m sorry about Tom, and about you being sick. But I’m not sorry about your apple trees, and I’m sure as hell not sorry I stopped at your farm.”
Author Note (#ub3a4fbdf-f875-5b82-a0cf-8c3bd12de7ef)
My mother was raised on a ranch in Oregon, and she always spoke fondly of the hired men who came to help out. She remembered them as kindly, usually unmarried men, who moved from ranch to ranch in the summertime. She recalled one hired man in particular, by the name of Frank, who came every summer; he shared his cookies with her after supper and made her corncob dolls to play with.
The Hired Man
Lynna Banning
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
LYNNA BANNING combines her lifelong love of history and literature in a satisfying career as a writer. Born in Oregon, she graduated from Scripps College and embarked on a career as an editor and technical writer, and later as a high school English teacher. She enjoys hearing from her readers. You may write to her directly at PO Box 324, Felton, CA 95018, USA, email her at carowoolston@att.net (mailto:carowoolston@att.net) or visit Lynna’s website at lynnabanning.net (http://www.lynnabanning.net).
Books by Lynna Banning
Mills & Boon Historical Romance
One Starry Christmas
‘Hark the Harried Angels’
The Scout
High Country Hero
Smoke River Bride
Templar Knight, Forbidden Bride
The Lone Sheriff
Wild West Christmas
‘Christmas in Smoke River’
Dreaming of a Western Christmas
‘His Christmas Belle’
Smoke River Family
Western Spring Weddings
‘The City Girl and the Rancher’
Printer in Petticoats
Her Sheriff Bodyguard
Baby on the Oregon Trail
The Hired Man
Visit the Author Profile page
at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) for more titles.
For hired men everywhere. And women.
Contents
Cover (#uf112151d-b36b-5aba-9c8c-db059a6e8cfd)
Back Cover Text (#u0cdab67c-6a72-5fd3-91ec-0af37b81f79a)
Introduction (#u503d3cc5-bf8a-50ea-8665-9cf8e9aef22f)
Author Note (#u9ac64355-d25e-54e7-b14c-6d2b2274e27e)
Title Page (#u3e9dec28-6cd2-5d1c-a2b4-2731291ae4a0)
About the Author (#u658440b3-d774-5d8c-8cb6-cdb8b73c0be7)
Dedication (#ue93a0b7a-5b0f-5440-b0a3-f93784e03d49)
Chapter One (#u1f802605-4675-50ed-9b29-616d7464e48f)
Chapter Two (#u21ee856a-e6d1-53ef-aceb-bb6e3776c3c2)
Chapter Three (#u74519386-d704-5bf2-bca0-16120da58d0d)
Chapter Four (#uef6bcda1-ae97-5040-9581-a3511eac84ce)
Chapter Five (#u1dd75a44-17e0-5914-a824-eedca7b5ce82)
Chapter Six (#u2354d4a4-8302-5c8d-9559-0fc80ac6514d)
Chapter Seven (#u65d9ee64-feaf-5729-a850-c7e0be2fbe9b)
Chapter Eight (#u05b65bc2-f015-513b-ae31-35583bda1f0b)
Chapter Nine (#ucbb0327b-6c3b-5471-855e-f6ab959b2d28)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ub3a4fbdf-f875-5b82-a0cf-8c3bd12de7ef)
Smoke River, Oregon
Cord dismounted and reached to open the iron gate, then shook his head in disbelief and patted his horse’s neck. “Just take a look at that, Sally-girl. Only thing holding that gate up is rust.” He laid his palm against the top and gave a little push. The decrepit gate swung partway open, hung there for a few seconds and toppled onto the ground.
He narrowed his eyes and studied it more closely. The split-rail fence looked like it was held together with spit, and there was no cattle guard. Man, this place needed more than a hired man. It needed a whole battalion of them.
A rickety-looking barn that had once been painted red stood off to one side of the dingy farmhouse, and the front yard was full of busily scratching chickens.
“Come on, Sally.” He grasped the bridle and tugged his mare forward. The only thing that looked even half-alive was the apple orchard he’d seen when he rode in, the frothy white blossoms clinging to the branches like soft puffs of new snow. Even from here he could hear the buzzing of thousands of bees.
But that was the only sign of life. He tied the bay mare to a spindly lilac bush and stepped up onto the porch. His boot punched clear through the rotting middle step. The front door stood open, but he couldn’t see through the dirty, spiderwebby screen. He rapped on the frame and watched flakes of rust sift onto his bare wrist.
“Just a moment,” a voice called. A long minute passed, during which the only sound was the hum of bees and Sally’s whicker. Finally a blurry shape appeared behind the screen.
“Yes?” The voice sounded suspicious.
“Name’s Cordell Winterman, ma’am. I understand you’re looking for a hired man?”
“Oh. Well, yes, I guess I am.”
“You don’t sound too sure about it.” He dug the scrap of newsprint out of his shirt pocket. “You put this ad in the newspaper, didn’t you? ‘Wanted—hired man for farm and apple orchard.’” He pressed it up against the screen.
“Ah,” she said after a pause. “Yes, I did advertise for a hired man. Are you interested?”
Cord swallowed hard. Hell, yes, he was interested! He hadn’t eaten in three days, and he was out of money and out of sorts. “Sure, I’m interested, ma’am.”
