He lasted three days.
Thoughts of her filled his waking hours. Dreams of that womanly body haunted his sleep, and the pure imaginings of his mind were the impetus that sent him on his way early on Monday morning.
Surely he hadn’t been so long without the companionship of a female that he couldn’t control his own needs.
Certainly he was capable of running his ranch, tending to his stock and overseeing the men working for him without allowing the memory of a slender woman to take precedence over the operation he was heading.
Derisively, Cord shook his head at his own folly. The slim creature he’d been obsessed with for three days would be merely an ordinary woman when he saw her again. No more and no less than any other he’d run across in his life.
Once he set eyes on her again, he’d be able to vanquish the assortment of urges he’d been fighting for three days.
The miles were long beneath the reaching strides of his gelding. The far corners of his ranch had never seemed so distant before. Maybe he shouldn’t have left her alone out here. What if someone had come upon the small family and taken advantage of their pitiful situation?
His heels dug into the sides of his mount and he searched the horizon for the line of trees that rimmed the uppermost ridge of the small valley he sought.
The best approach would be to offer her a job. Not just a couple of days a week, as he’d suggested the other day, but a full-time, everyday job that would necessitate moving her and her brothers, bag and baggage, to his place.
And then there would really be fireworks to deal with, once Jake had his routine disturbed.
He’d have to depend on Sam Bostwick to keep Jake in line and away from Rachel. No sense in scaring her off first thing. The thought of his brother brought a frown and a deep-felt sigh.
Jake wouldn’t take well to a female around the place.
The Circle M employed five ranch hands, none of whom was capable of putting a decent meal on the table, as far as Cord was concerned. Finding help had become almost a farce in the past year. The gold strike was a thing of the distant past, but there were always the hopeful ones making their way west
The fact was, getting decent ranch hands here in Kansas, and keeping them, depended in good part upon the food you put in their bellies.
The gradual rise before him was a sea of wildflowers, topped by a ridge of trees. The sun was brilliant against the horizon. A hawk skimmed the treetops, a silent hunter against the cloudless sky.
And there, kneeling beneath the freshly born leaves of a maple sapling was the slender woman who’d occupied his thoughts for the past three days.
She lifted her head, her eyes wide as she watched him approach. As his horse came to a halt just feet away, she stood. Her dress showed the effects of many wash days, its color nondescript, with faint images of flowers against a faded pink background.
It was too short, even though the hem had been let down, and he felt a quick surge of gladness at that fact, his gaze pausing on the slim ankles and bare feet she made no attempt to conceal.
“Mr. McPherson.”
It was a greeting of sorts, accompanied by a slow nod of her head, her eyes wary as he slid from his horse to stand before her.
“Miss Sinclair.” He stopped abruptly. Then, as if his senses had deserted him, his tongue refused to speak.
She was watching him in a grave, sober fashion that was not encouraging to his proposal. What he wanted to say would be insulting to a lady, and she deserved that designation.
How could he ask her to gather up her family and come home with him? He could offer no chaperon, no other woman to protect her name while she occupied his home. And yet the desire to be in her company had not eased with the passing of time. His best bet was to put it on a business basis, he decided.
She’d thought about him for three days. And now he was here, appearing at the crest of the long slope, atop his big horse, making his way to where she stood.
“I came out to see if you were needing anything, ma’am.”
Rachel considered the man standing before her. He’d been studying her with a penetrating eye, all the way up the hill, as if he could somehow see beneath the wash dress she wore. And then he’d offered a neighborly suggestion.
Did she need anything? Here she stood, fresh from praying upon the highest spot available in the valley, as if the height of the small hill could somehow make her more noticeable to heaven’s eye. She’d just asked God’s help in stretching her pitiful supply of money. There was about enough left to feed her brothers for another week or so, but not much longer.
With the oatmeal about done for and the flour gone weevily when she made biscuits this morning, she’d had to face the facts. She’d shuddered as she sifted the small brown bugs from her measuring cup, and cast them out the door of the shack. She’d manage to feed the boys a while longer, but even after the trip to town, the end of her supplies was in sight.
And so was the bottom of her small cache of coins.
Now here, as if he bore a message from the Almighty, came the man who’d not been far from her thoughts since Thursday, when he’d announced his ownership of the very spot they’d taken over as their own.
“Do we need anything?” She repeated his words and her voice was alive with wry incredulity. “I suppose I should be polite and tell you that my brothers and I have everything under control, Mr. McPherson.”
Vainly, she tried to smile, but the worry of the long night hours had left her without a trace of good humor.
Cord McPherson swept his wide-brimmed hat from his head and slapped it against his thigh. “I’m not looking for niceties from you, ma’am. I’d take the truth over a polite denial any day of the week.”
“We can survive for a while,” she said finally, her breath escaping in a sigh. “We had enough food to last a month or so, when we got here, with fresh meat and fish to fill in. But we’ve about reached the bottom of the barrel, and I don’t know how many more trips to the store in Green Rapids we can afford.”
“Green Rapids? You’ve been there?”
She nodded. “I wasn’t sure I could find the way back there, to tell the truth, but we made it.”
He nodded. “Any problems in town?”
“No.” She smiled, remembering the welcome they’d received. “The shopkeeper was pleasant. He gave me a tin of tea as a gift.”
His brow lifted in disbelief. “Conrad?”
“He seemed very nice,” she said primly, her eyes lowered, her cheeks flushing, unable to meet his gaze.
“I’ll just bet he did.” His words were gruff, and he settled his hands against his hips.
“I didn’t expect you back,” she said finally.
“I told you I’d come.”
Her shrug was answer enough, he decided. She’d probably hoped he wouldn’t show up, if he knew anything about it.
“Anybody give you any trouble here?” He looked beyond her to where the shack huddled in the small valley, the two horses tethered on the other side of the stream, the empty wagon under a tree.
“No.” She shook her head. “A man rode up yesterday and looked things over. But he left after a few minutes.”
“Probably Moses havin’ a look-see. I told him if he got a chance, to check on you.”
“Moses?” She rolled the name on her tongue, her quick mind nudging her dormant sense of humor. “Do you suppose he thought he’d discovered the promised land?” The wave of her slender hand encompassed