Her voice drifted from the kitchen. “I need to do the laundry. If you could just show me the washtub—”
“We’ll haul the water for you,” Bram volunteered.
“And start the fire,” Jake added.
Coming back to the doorway with the baby on her hip, she looked at Bram, not Jake. “Thank you, but—”
“I’ll get the basket Louisa used to carry the laundry.” His brother went into a small alcove between the housekeeper’s room and the outside wall, returning with a large round basket. After setting it in Jake’s chair, he moved toward the door. “That was a fine meal, Miz York.”
“I’ll start the fire on my way out,” Jake said.
“That’s not necessary,” she said stiffly. “You did hire me to do the job, after all.”
He looked at her. Did they all make her uncomfortable or was it just him? “It won’t take a minute for me to get it burning.”
“I can do it.”
“We can gather up our clothes for you,” Bram insisted.
“I’m supposed to be here to help you—” she looked ill at ease “—not the other way around.”
“All right.” Bram grinned. “You can gather the clothes, but we’ll haul the tubs and the water.”
“And rig up the clothesline,” Ike added.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, though she acted more uneasy than pleased about it.
Bram went outside and Jake started to follow. Now that he was getting some space from her, he could breathe just fine. “We’ll be riding in the west pasture today. If you need anything, for any reason, there’s a gun behind the front door. And there’s a bell hanging right outside the kitchen door and the barn. We can hear both for quite a ways.”
“Do you expect trouble?” Her eyes went wide with worry.
“No, not at all. But we’re not expecting visitors, either.” He’d mentioned the weapon and the bell to reassure her, but it obviously hadn’t. “I wanted you to know about the gun for protection and how to signal us if you needed to.”
“All right, thank you.” She studied him as if she were trying to determine how he was put together.
“Is there anything particular you’d like for supper?” she asked tentatively.
“Whatever you fix will be fine.” He needed to get outside, now. “If we get held up, don’t wait on us. You and Georgia eat while it’s hot.”
She nodded as Georgia came around the table. Emma and his cousin followed him to the door, and Jake could feel the nurse’s anxious gaze locked on him.
Just looking at her pale face made his chest tight. That baby and Emma York made him feel responsible for their welfare. The minute he’d seen the brunette, something inside him had gone still. He didn’t know why. He didn’t care to know.
He was sick to death of feeling responsible for everyone, dead and alive. He’d done the right thing by not dumping that baby on someone else, done the right thing by hiring Emma York. He didn’t need to do anything else, but, for some reason, right didn’t seem like enough this time.
Jake Ross had buzzed in Emma’s thoughts all day like a pesky insect. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the hard look on his face when he’d held Molly that morning at breakfast or because of the quiet way he had studied Emma. As if he knew more than she’d told him. Thankfully, she hadn’t seen him again today. He and the two other men hadn’t returned until late tonight, well after supper and after Emma had gone to bed.
Now it was past midnight and she stood in the kitchen over the stove. Soft amber light from the lone kerosene lamp behind her pooled on the floor. Molly had been fussy since supper and nothing Emma did had helped. She had finally decided the little girl’s stomach hurt and come to the kitchen to make the onion tea that her mother had sworn was the best remedy for upset tummies or a mixed-up sleeping schedule.
As she added another pinch of finely chopped onion to the heating water, Emma couldn’t help recalling the look on Jake Ross’s face this morning when he’d picked up her sister. It hadn’t been disgust or blatant dislike, but she wasn’t sure exactly what it had been. Did he dislike the baby? Everyone in his family had given him odd looks, but she hadn’t been able to decipher those, either.
Had she made a mistake by choosing him, by coming here? The rest of his family seemed to like the little girl just fine, but Emma wouldn’t leave her sister in a household where she wasn’t welcome by everyone. Still, Emma had no money to take her sister and go farther west. Until she did, she would have to stay here and try to help the Ross family become attached to Molly.
When the onion-and-water mixture began to boil, Emma turned to take a folded cloth from the long counter to her right. And gasped. Jake Ross stood in the doorway, wrapped in shadows. In the shift of gray light, she could see he was shirtless. His denims were unbuttoned and he held a gun. How long had he been standing there?
“Shh.” He put a finger to his lips, lamplight slanting across the strong angle of his jaw. “I heard something outside.”
She swallowed hard, nodding to let him know she’d keep quiet.
“I’m going to check. Don’t go anywhere.”
She couldn’t have moved, anyway. Her legs felt like water. He walked past her and silently opened the door on the opposite wall that led outside.
Emma’s heart thundered. He’d startled her, but that wasn’t why her pulse spiked. Gracious, the man was…impressive. His shoulders and chest were hard, solid muscle, only a shade lighter than his face and arms, making it obvious that he worked outside frequently without a shirt. Dark hair on his chest narrowed to a thin line below his navel.
As he went out the door, Emma stared. She couldn’t help it. She’d never seen a man’s bare back. Or bare chest. Or bare anything. One time, she’d seen her stepfather in shirtsleeves, but she’d never laid eyes on a half-naked man.
A funny feeling clenched her stomach. He looked so huge. Intimidating.
She wasn’t sure how long she waited. Realizing she was without her spectacles, Emma slipped them from the pocket of her wrapper and slid them on. Very carefully so as not to make any noise, she reached again for the cloth and lifted the boiling pot from the stove, setting it on the long counter.
After several minutes, the kitchen door opened and Jake moved back inside. He shook his head as he quietly closed the door. “Someone’s been out there, but they’re long gone. Found footprints, but no other sign.”
Though she cautioned herself not to jump to conclusions, Emma’s shoulders tensed up. There was no reason to think that whoever had been out there had been looking for her, but she couldn’t help it. There was no doubt her stepfather would’ve already assigned one of his men, probably Sharpton, to start searching for her and Molly. Orson wouldn’t risk hiring a reputable detective agency like the Pinkertons because he’d be afraid Emma would tell the lawmen about his violent behavior. And she would, if she had the chance. No, Orson had to be discreet and that meant sending one of his own men to find her and the baby.
She’d been so careful. He couldn’t have found them yet. Please, not yet.
“What do you think they wanted?” She glanced over her shoulder and saw Jake still at the outside door, his gaze riveted on her. Her hair. Could he tell that this nut-brown wasn’t her natural color? That it was a dye made from walnut leaves and husks?
It hit her then that her hair was down, plaited into a braid that lay over her shoulder and against her breast. That all she had on was her night rail and wrapper. That all he had on were…denims. His trousers were unbuttoned enough that she could tell the skin below his waistband was