At the door the boys waited, watching the tall intruder as he walked from their sight, heading for the stream. Preparing to join them, Rachel brushed back her hair with agile fingers as she approached the door, feeling for the braid that hung down her back.
“What’s he doing?” she asked quietly. Hastily, she rolled up her sleeves to just beneath her elbows. He’d already seen pretty near everything she owned. No sense in being overly modest, she decided stoutly.
Washing clothes in her petticoat had seemed safe enough. Besides keeping her dress dry and clean, she’d enjoyed the breeze blowing against her bare shoulders and arms, keeping her cool. She’d scrubbed out the boy’s overalls, rinsing them in the bucket and wringing out the water before she hung them on the line to dry.
And then, just as she’d sent Jay to the stream for clean water to wash the rest of her own things, the stranger had come, destroying what little peace of mind she’d been able to find in this place.
She was ready to face him, as ready as she’d ever be, but she hesitated at the threshold. His demeanor had overpowered her, more so than the gun she’d spied behind his saddle, which she was dead certain he could handle with an expert touch.
He’d not threatened her, not bodily, but his eyes had paused to survey every living inch of her, especially the parts the bodice of her petticoat had failed to cover.
She blushed anew at the thought. And so it was that she watched him, reins in one hand, bucket in the other, striding up the fresh path from the stream, worn down only by the repeated steps of Jay and Henry over the past weeks, the grass still green beneath his feet
He carried the bucket easily, its weight a barely noticed hindrance to his easy gait. His hat was pushed back a bit and she caught sight of dark eyes, their intensity focused on her, his nose flaring just a bit as he came to a halt in front of her.
“I figured you needed water. Thought I’d save you a trip to the stream while I watered my horse.”
“Yes, thank you.” He’d put her at a disadvantage already, being nice. She drew in a breath, reaching for the handle of the bucket.
“Let the boy get it.” He nodded, his movement a silent command, and Henry eased past her to take the bucket from his grasp. “Take it in the house, son.”
“Yessir,” Henry said quietly, obviously subdued in the presence of subtle strength. His eyes had lost their challenge, if not their wariness; but as if he sensed no danger for the moment, he turned from his sister to obey the stranger’s command.
Rachel buried her hands in the pockets of her dress and faced her visitor. “Can we come to an agreement, mister? Maybe reach a fair price for us staying in this place?”
“Are you dead serious about staying out here by yourself?” The stranger faced her, his expression disbelieving as he surveyed his surroundings. “This shack isn’t fit for animals. The door’s hangin’ by one hinge and there isn’t even a floor. You can’t tell me you’re set on livin’ here.”
“For now, I am,” she answered, her mouth firm as she staked her claim.
“How much you plan on payin’ for rent?” His gaze swung back to her as she defied his judgment. “What are you thinkin’ to live on?”
Rachel thought of the dwindling supplies she’d stashed with care in the rude cabinets against the wall inside the shack. “We’ll make do,” she told him proudly. “There’s good fishing in the stream and Henry is a good shot.”
Her mind worked quickly as she defended her position. “We noticed the berries are ripening up along the stream and there’s more greens growing than we can ever eat, even with the rabbits getting their share. We’ve got plenty of food.”
Plenty, if we dole it pretty thin and the rabbit population holds out, she amended silently.
A nicker from beyond the shack caught his attention, and Cord’s gaze shifted from the woman before him. For all her claims of independence, he’d warrant she was barely holding her own out here. And yet, beyond the shelter she’d found, somewhere past the shack, was a horse.
Another nicker joined the first and his gelding answered the challenge, lifting his head from where he’d buried his muzzle in the lush grasses.
“How many head of horses you got out there, ma’am?” His query demanded an answer, his words delivered with a hard edge.
“The team is not for sale,” she answered quickly. “They belonged to my pa.”
“Belonged?” The single word made mockery of her claim. There was no father about to return. These three were alone here, on the edge of his land, ten miles from the nearest town.
“They’re mine now,” she told him bluntly.
“It’s not safe out here for a woman alone, with two young’uns.”
Her eyes flashed defiance. “We haven’t seen another soul, till you came up over that hill.”
“And you might not again. But then again, you might. And the next man to ride up on you probably won’t be willing to ride away without giving you some trouble.” His words were roundabout, but the look on her face told him he’d managed to get his meaning across.
That slim body was tempting enough in its blue covering, the modest dress buttoned up to the neck. Any man worth his salt would have been tempted mightily by the sight she’d presented just minutes ago, prancing around in her undergarments.
That thought alone was enough to give him pause and he silently cursed the urges that ran rampant in his body. Too long without a female wasn’t good for a man, and he’d about reached his limit
“How much do you want for rent, mister?”
Her demand caught his ear and his thoughts returned from their meandering. She waited, watching him, and the cautious hope in her eyes was his undoing. full-blown, a picture sprang to his mind, and his words gave it life.
“Maybe we can work something out,” he said. “Looks to me like you’re pretty good at washing clothes, ma’am. How about if you come up to the house and do up the laundry and maybe see what you can do in my kitchen a couple of days a week?”
His lips thinned as he waited for her reply. What the hell was he thinking of? He’d do well to send her and her brothers on their way, or at least take them to town and find a place for them to roost, out of danger. No sense in saddling himself with any more of a load than he already had.
The girl shook her head, denying his offer. “I’d just as soon pay a bit for the place to stay, mister. Maybe till we get our mind made up about what we’re going to do.”
So much for that plan. Ill formed as it was, he’d decided in a hurry it might be her salvation. That she would be a temptation to every roving cowhand and stray rider in the county was a fact.
Once the word got out, she’d be under siege. Fool woman stood there like an unwary doe just before dawn, with danger all around, and not enough sense to take cover.
“We can come to an understanding, I’m sure,” he said, not wanting to douse her hopes. She was so valiant, so willing to do what had to be done for her family. “Let me think about it.”
The boys came from the doorway to flank her, lending their mute support, and her arms lifted in an automatic gesture to lie across their shoulders. He suspected she’d lent them her strength on a regular basis over the past few weeks or months. How long they’d been alone was anyone’s guess. Maybe she’d open up a little more next time. For now, he figured he’d about gone as far as she’d let him. Further than she’d wanted.
“I’ll be back,” he said, easing into the saddle with a lithe movement. One tanned, broad-backed hand reached out to her. “My name’s Cord McPherson.”
She moved toward