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“Thank you.”
She stared at his bent head and then at his large, capable hands, unable to reconcile the intricacy and beauty of the house, the creativity and artistry required to produce it, with the tough, aloof man before her.
“You made it?”
His light blue eyes were guarded. “I like to create things in my free time. It’s a skill I learned as an adolescent.”
“I’d love to see your other pieces, if you have any.”
His shrug was noncommittal.
Stunned by how badly she wanted to learn more about her host, she dropped the subject. When they’d finished dessert and Grace told Jane to assist her in cleaning up, he held up a hand. “I’ll take care of it. But first, I’d like a word.”
His expression warned she wasn’t going to like what he had to say.
Leaving Jane to play with her miniature tea set and dolls, Grace accompanied him to the stream, where he showed her to a bench carved out of a massive tree trunk.
“Did you make this, too?”
He buried his hands in his pockets. “I come down here sometimes to read or think, and I needed a place to sit.”
It was a nice shady spot with a view of the green fields stretching to the distant horizon. “You like to read?”
“That surprises you.”
“Yes,” she admitted.
“Because I’m a soldier or because I’m a Southerner?”
Grace shrugged, ashamed she’d judged him again. “You simply didn’t strike me as the bookworm type.”
He scowled. “It’s a good thing we’re not getting hitched. We have a bad habit of judging each other as lacking in one way or another.”
Unable to sit still beneath his enigmatic gaze, Grace stood and crossed to his spot near the water’s edge. Her plan was on the verge of collapsing.
“That’s because this is an unusual situation. Given time, we’ll learn each other’s personalities.”
He grasped her hand and lifted it for his inspection. “You’re not wearing your rings.”
“Th-they would’ve gotten in the way.”
Noah examined her reddened palm, his hold surprisingly gentle. She was almost sorry when he released her.
“You shouldn’t have overexerted yourself. While I appreciate the meal and the effort you put into cleaning my cabin, it doesn’t change a thing. You’re not staying.”
Desperation shivered through her. “I thought you were an honorable man. Mr. Canfield clearly exaggerated your finer qualities.”
A tiny vein at his temple throbbed. “My honor isn’t in question here, Mrs. Miller. I never promised to marry you.”
His body shifted into a warrior’s stance and the anger practically spiraled off him. Okay, so questioning a former soldier’s honor was a dumb thing to do.
Skewering her with a look, he demanded with narrowed eyes, “Why are you so determined to stay where you’re not wanted?”
That hurt. More than it should. Grace didn’t know him, and yet, he was another in a long line that didn’t want her around.
Holding her deception close to her heart, she seized on the most obvious answer. “I came here in search of a better life for my girls.”
“Cowboy Creek is short on women and long on marriage-minded men. If you’re determined to stay, you’ll have your pick of candidates. It’s not personal. Before the war, I might’ve made a good husband and father, but I’ve changed.” He touched the raised pink flesh on his jaw. “This isn’t the worst of it. It’s what you can’t see that’s truly horrific.”
Grace thought he meant the physical scars beneath his shirt.
“I don’t care about your scars.” Normally, she wouldn’t reveal private details of her life, but despair trumped pride. “I was married to a handsome man whose inner character rendered him ugly. I care about integrity. Loyalty. A good work ethic. Mr. Canfield wrote a glowing report of your character, Mr. Burgess. I desire that for my daughters.”
“You misunderstand. I didn’t mean what’s under here, although my physical deformity would be difficult for any woman to accept.” He rubbed his flattened palm over his shirt. “I meant what’s in here.” He tapped his heart first, then his temple. “The war changed me in ways I can’t begin to describe. I don’t trust like I used to. I don’t hope. Don’t believe in the basic goodness of human beings. I don’t have the ability to make anyone happy.”
The bleakness in his features robbed her of speech.
“Since your daughter is on the mend, I’ll make the necessary arrangements for you to remove to the hotel tomorrow afternoon.”
He walked away from her again, something he was rather good at.
* * *
For the second day in a row, Noah ate his breakfast at the jail. He wasn’t happy about it, either. The early-dawn ride into town had passed in a blur. One of the Murdoch brothers could’ve swooped in and he wouldn’t have known it until the last second. He’d lost his concentration and focus because of the comely young widow.
Constance Miller. Funny, the name Constance didn’t really suit her.
Adjusting his gun belt, he smashed his Stetson on his head, ordered Wolf to stay put and left the jail.
Sticking around this morning would’ve been the polite thing to do. Constance and her daughters were his guests, unwelcome though they may be, and his ma had instilled good manners in him and his sisters. But he’d found himself growing captivated in the brief moments he’d spent with her. She was a woman of contrasts. Beneath that feminine, fragile exterior lay fire-purified strength and the determination of an approaching storm. What she’d managed to accomplish in one day both stunned and impressed him. Noah would never admit it, but hers was the best fried chicken he’d ever tasted, even better than his ma’s. And that moist, dense cake bursting with flavor... His mouth watered thinking about it. He could get used to coming home to fine meals like that.
But would she ever get used to welcoming a man such as him?
Constance said she didn’t mind the scars, but she’d spoken the words in haste. She would say anything to get him to agree to the marriage Will had promised her. Well, she could have her Cowboy Creek husband—it just wasn’t going to be him. She’d thank him later.
Noah was in the middle of the intersection on his way to the Cattleman when he recognized his friend Daniel Gardner. He and his new bride, Leah, were preparing to enter Booker & Son general store. Changing course, he lifted his hand and called Daniel’s name.
They both turned at the same time. Leah’s shining blond tresses rippled in the breeze. Her apricot dress was let out at the waist to showcase her expanding form. Thanks to Leah, Opal and the reverend’s daughter, Hannah, their town’s population was on its way up. More mail-order brides meant new families, cementing Cowboy Creek’s future. Constance’s impish countenance flashed in his mind. If she settled on one of their businessmen or ranchers, she’d likely add to the population, as well.
The thought felt like a hot poker plunged in his gut. Calling up his annoyance at Daniel’s actions, he strode to meet the couple.
“Noah.” Daniel’s deep green eyes searched his, gauging his mood. “I was going to stop by the jail once we’d finished our shopping.”
“Good morning, Noah.” Leah glowed with good health, her smile a testament to the success of her and Daniel’s union.
Will, Daniel and Leah had grown up together in Pennsylvania. She and Will had gotten engaged at a young age, but the distance during the war had taken its toll on the relationship. Leah ultimately married a Union officer and moved away, so discovering she was on their first bride train had shocked both men. Even more of a shock was the fact she was widowed and expecting a baby. Wanting to provide a stable, secure life for her, Daniel had hidden the feelings he’d never declared behind an offer of a marriage based on friendship.
Fortunately for his friend, love had blossomed between the two. It was that love and happy marital state that surely must’ve prompted Daniel to go against Noah’s wishes and do the unthinkable.
“I went to your office about an hour ago,” he told Daniel. “They said you hadn’t come in today.”
Fiddling with her earbob, Leah blushed. “That was my fault. I needed my husband at home this morning.”
The smile Daniel bestowed on her spoke of a happiness Noah could only dream of.
“Why don’t you go on in while I speak to Noah? I’ll join you in a bit.”
Nodding, she balanced her weight against his arm and, leaning into him, planted a kiss on his cheek. “See you later, darling. And you, Noah.”
“Take it easy, Leah.”
By silent agreement, they moved along Second Street until they came to the deserted churchyard. This side street wasn’t as busy as the main thoroughfare. Through the wooded area behind the church building, the roof of Will and Tomasina’s house was visible.
“I saw Will yesterday.” Seeking out the shade of a sixty-foot-tall box elder tree, Daniel removed his derby hat and dusted off the crown. A hank of chestnut hair slipped into his eyes, and he impatiently shoved it aside. As owner of the stockyards, he favored cowboy attire. Today, however, he was dressed like Will, in a fine brown suit and polished boots. “He told me about the widow and her daughters. What’s she like?”
“That’s your first question?” Noah demanded, throwing his hands wide. “I thought your first would be to ask how I’m coping with this latest problem in a long string of them. One I didn’t ask for and didn’t see coming. I never dreamed my closest friends would go behind my back and do something so underhanded.”
Daniel looked disconcerted. “We didn’t do it to add to your burdens. Our goal was to force you out of this ridiculous solitude you’ve consigned yourself to.”
“It’s not ridiculous,” he ground out. “You know why I’ve chosen this life.”
“I was in the war, too, remember?” he said quietly. “Man or woman, adult or child, I’m not convinced you’d find anyone in this nation who came through it unaffected. That doesn’t mean you have to give up on life. You’re as worthy of happiness as the rest of us, Noah.”
“I don’t agree. The way I feel inside... I’m a different man than I used to be.”
“Different doesn’t necessarily mean worse.”
They would never have like minds on the subject. “I wish you and Will had discussed your scheme with me before you acted. This woman you’ve brought here has her mind set on staying. She’s convinced our town will prove a fine setting in which to raise her young daughters.”
“Is she not someone you can envision building a life with?”
Noah tilted his head back and stared at the knotty branches and matte undersides of the leaves suspended from them.
“I don’t believe we’d get along,” he said.
“How do you figure?” One dark brow quirked up.
“We have the bad habit of making assumptions about each other.”
A stout, hairy man emerged from the hardware store across the street, a sack swinging from his right hand. He smiled when he saw them, revealing tobacco-stained teeth. “Howdy, Sheriff! Fine day to be alive, ain’t it?”
Noah lifted a hand in acknowledgment, catching sight of the grin Daniel tried to hide.
“I pin on a badge and suddenly folks feel it’s their duty to speak to me.” He scowled.
“It’s a nice change from how things used to be. You started this town. No reason you shouldn’t interact with the grateful residents.”
“We started this town. I’m happy to leave the mingling to you and Will.”
“Back to the widow Miller. How did she react to your scars?”
“Didn’t seem to mind. The girls, either.” He squinted at Daniel. “Don’t get that look.”
“What look?”
“The dopey one that makes you look like you’re seven,” he shot back, wondering where his anger had gone. Maybe if they’d meant it as a joke or as a way to hurt him, he could’ve nursed his ire. But it had been a misguided attempt to improve his life. “I’m not marrying Constance. In fact, I was on my way to the hotel to secure her a suite. Will’s largest and finest, as he’ll be footing the bill.”
He started walking through the grass toward the dusty street. Daniel blocked his retreat.
“Whoa. Are you sure that’s such a good idea?”
“It’s the logical choice.”
“Tell me what she looks like,” the other man prodded. “Is she pretty?”
“Pretty isn’t the right word. She’s like an exotic bloom that needs an awful lot of care and attention.”
Daniel’s gaze intensified. “An exotic bloom, huh?”
The tips of his ears burned. “Why does it matter?”
“You don’t remember the crush of men at the train station the day Leah and the others arrived? The locals are starved for female companionship. If you put Mrs. Miller up at the Cattleman, she’ll be accosted by marriage-minded men, not all of them worthy of a woman’s hand.”
“Not my problem.” Sidestepping him, Noah continued walking.
“You’re refusing to marry her.” Daniel spoke to his back. “In doing so, you’re putting her and her daughters at risk. Do you not feel an ounce of responsibility toward them?”
Noah halted, his gaze on the bustling traffic ahead—wagons, single riders and pedestrians. Clusters of crude, rowdy cowboys whistling and gesturing to Pippa Neely, one of the original mail-order brides and the town’s resident actress, as she traversed the boardwalk.
Daniel came abreast of him. “It’d be a shame if she chose the wrong sort of man. You’d be forced to see the evidence of her poor choice for the rest of your life.”
Noah ground his teeth. He couldn’t deny that if he found out she or the twins were being mistreated, he’d wind up locked in a cell for beating the guy within an inch of his life. “There’s another possibility.”
Settling his derby on his head, Daniel waited.
“She might fancy a drover,” Noah pointed out. “She wouldn’t be sticking around then.”
“That defeats our purpose. We want to grow Cowboy Creek, not provide brides for itinerant cowboys.”
He threw up in his hands in frustration. “What do you propose I do?”
“Allow her to stay at your place until the three of us—you, me and Will—help her make a wise and proper choice.”
Noah snorted. “She’s not the sort of woman to be led about. Despite her helpless appearance, Constance knows her own mind.”
“We won’t make her choice for her. We’ll simply be advising her on her suitors’ characters and reputations.”
He closed his eyes, wishing he could rewind time a couple of days. “Fine,” he growled. “They can stay for the time being.”
