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The Proper Wife
Winnie Griggs


“Truly, it’s just a little cut.”
“Best to be safe.” Eli carefully extended Sadie’s hand over the sink, filled a dipper with water, then looked up. “Ready?”
Seeing reassurance instead of disapproval in those cool gray eyes of his was a new experience for Sadie, one she found she rather enjoyed. “Ready,” she answered.
He slowly poured the water over the cut. It was strange to feel him holding her hand like this. His own hand was smoother than those of the ranch hands she was used to. She sensed strength there and an unexpected protectiveness.
“Looks like there’s a sliver embedded in your palm. This might hurt a bit.”
She nodded. His expression shifted and she saw the flicker of concern as he caught hold of the offending sliver, then the small spurt of triumph mixed with relief as he pulled it free.
“Sorry.”
“I hardly felt a thing.” Which was the absolute truth as far as the cut was concerned.

WINNIE GRIGGS
is a city girl born and raised in southeast Louisiana’s Cajun Country who grew up to marry a country boy from the hills of northwest Louisiana. Though her Prince Charming (who often wears the guise of a cattle rancher) is more comfortable riding a tractor than a white steed, the two of them have been living their own happily-ever-after for more than thirty years. During that time they raised four proud-to-call-them-mine children and a too-numerous-to-count assortment of dogs, cats, fish, hamsters, turtles and 4-H sheep.
Winnie has held a job at a utility company since she graduated from college, and saw her first novel hit bookstores in 2001. In addition to her day job and writing career, Winnie serves on committees within her church, on the executive boards and committees of several writing organizations and is active in local civic organizations—she truly believes the adage that you reap in proportion to what you sow.
In addition to writing and reading, Winnie enjoys spending time with her family, cooking and exploring flea markets. Readers can contact Winnie at P.O. Box 14, Plain Dealing, LA 71064, or email her at winnie@winniegriggs.com.

Winnie Griggs
The Proper Wife





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds.
—Hebrews 10:24
To my dear friends Connie Cox and Amy Talley who helped me brainstorm, provided critiques and generally listened to me moan when I got stuck or needed to talk through the sticky parts.

Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Letter to Reader
Questions for Discussion

Chapter One
May 1893
Knotty Pine, Texas
He needed a wife and he needed one soon.
Eli Reynolds strode through town, ignoring the intermittent drizzle as he pondered his current situation. According to the workmen he’d hired, the renovations to his newly acquired home would be ready by the end of next week. Once that was done he and Penny would no longer have a legitimate reason to remain at the boardinghouse.
Which meant his time was running out.
Because no matter what the cost, he was determined to be married, or at least have wedding plans, before he moved himself and his nine-year-old half sister into that house. Mrs. Collins, the widow who ran the boardinghouse where he and Penny were staying, was doing a good job of watching over his sister for the time being. But leaving an impressionable young girl like Penny in the care of a housekeeper or governess every day while he went to his office at the bank was an unacceptable option for the long-term.
Trusting a servant with such a precious duty had already resulted in one tragedy. He wouldn’t make such a costly mistake twice.
This business of finding a proper wife should have already been settled, would have already been settled, if he hadn’t so badly misjudged his field of candidates. He thought he’d found the right woman in Myra Willows. She appeared intelligent, mature, of good character, competent in the domestic arts—all the characteristics he was looking for. He’d actually been on the point of declaring his intentions yesterday when he’d been pulled up short by a bit of gossip.
He’d overheard a couple of bank clerks speculating that Miss Willows might possibly be the person behind that ridiculous pseudonym of Temperance Trulove, the very woman who penned the ridiculous and highly melodramatic bit of drivel titled The Amazing Adventures of Annabel Adams for The Weekly Gazette.
Eli didn’t quite credit that the rumor could be true— Miss Willows seemed much too reserved and sensible a female to indulge in such nonsense. But at this point he wasn’t willing to risk being wrong, not with his sister’s upbringing hanging in the balance.
So he’d been forced to regroup, to review the remaining names on his list and chose another bride.
Eli turned his collar up against the weather as a spurt of water fell on him from the eaves of the nearby store-front. What a day! He wasn’t just damp, he was beat. Bone-deep, soul-achingly beat.
Truth to tell, the turn his life had taken two months ago, and the nonstop effort he’d put into building a new life for himself and Penny since then, was beginning to wear on him. But soon it would be done and he could relax a bit. Until then, he would continue pressing on toward his goal.
“Looks like you could use yourself a rain slicker.” Sheriff Hammond lounged against the doorpost of his office, whittling on a stick.
Eli moved closer to the building to take advantage of the meager shelter from the shower. “A bit of rain never hurt anyone.” He winced as he felt a trickle of water make its way down his back. “Then again, I may have to look into getting myself one of those slickers if this weather continues.”
The sheriff grinned in sympathy. “Spring showers tend to be unpredictable in these parts.” Then he went back to whittling. “How’s Mrs. Collins’s arm doing?”
The boardinghouse proprietress had fallen and hurt her arm about a week ago. She seemed to be bearing her injury well, but having her out of commission had put the entire boardinghouse in disarray. And the arrival of her friend, purportedly to ‘help out’, had only served to add to the problem rather than alleviate it. Sadie Lassiter had breezed in from whatever distant cattle ranch she called home with all the grace and finesse of a brown-eyed, auburn-haired dust devil.
He pulled his thoughts back to the sheriff’s question. “The doctor says she should refrain from using it for another week or so. But she seems impatient to be back at work.”
Sheriff Hammond nodded. “That’s Cora Beth for you. The woman can’t stand to sit idle.” He tipped his hat back with the point of his blade. “How’s Miss Lassiter working out?”
It would be ungentlemanly of him to speak his true feelings on the matter. “She is trying,” he temporized. “And I’m sure she’s good company for Mrs. Collins.”
Sheriff Hammond grinned. “As bad as all that, is she?”
Eli merely spread his hands.
“Ah well, Cora Beth’s shoes would be hard for anyone to fill.” He shaved another curl of wood from his stick. “By the way, mind giving Mrs. Collins a message for me?”
“Be glad to.”
“Tell her I’m heading out to the Martins’ place in the morning and I’ll be happy to carry a food basket for the Ladies’ Auxiliary if she still wants me to.”
“Will do.” Apparently part of the sheriff’s duty in these parts was to periodically look in on the various families on the outlying farms and ranches.
With a wave, Eli moved along the wet sidewalk again, eager to reach the boardinghouse where he could dry out and get something filling to eat. Too bad it wouldn’t be one of Mrs. Collins’s always excellent meals. If he was lucky it would be more edible than the scorched roast Miss Lassiter had served last night.
Eli had barely taken a half dozen steps, however, when he found himself hailed again. One of the benefits—and hazards—of small town life he supposed.
Mrs. Danvers, who ran the mercantile with her husband, stood in the doorway of her store. Swallowing the urge to keep walking, he tipped his hat. “Good day, ma’am. Is there something I can help you with?”
“It’s such a dreary day that I thought you might want to come in out of the weather for a bit.” She gave him an ingratiating smile. “I’m sure Imogene would be happy to fix you a hot cup of tea while you dry off by the stove.”
The woman would be better served to focus her matchmaking schemes elsewhere. Eli had scratched Imogene Danvers off his potential-bride-list early on. She was too timid, too much under her mother’s thumb to provide the kind of oversight he wanted for his sister. And having an overbearing, meddlesome woman for a mother-in-law was not something he was inclined to look favorably on either. “That’s very kind of you, but the weather doesn’t show signs of letting up any time soon and I need to see to my sister.”
A flicker of disappointment flashed in her eyes and then she rallied. “Such a thoughtful brother you are. Perhaps another time.”
“Perhaps.” He tipped his hat again and moved on.
And yet another reason for him to find a wife soon. He was well aware that his wealth and newcomer-to-the-area status had made him the target of every matchmaking momma and marriage-minded female in the area. Time to take himself off the market.
Which brought him back to making his selection. He’d given the matter careful consideration most of the day and had decided that the widow Collins was now the obvious choice. The only reason she hadn’t been his first choice was the fact that she had three children of her own and a younger brother to raise. But while this meant Penny wouldn’t have her undivided attention, perhaps it would be offset by the fact that Penny would have other children in the house to play with.
As for appearance, she wasn’t an eye-catching beauty, but with her light brown hair, bright green eyes and ready smile there was a sweetness to her appearance that was quite pleasant.
Yes, this might work out for the best after all.
Eli finally reached the boardinghouse and sprinted up the steps, pausing under the shelter of the front porch roof to shed his wet hat and brush the drops of water from his coat.
After stomping his boots on the porch, he stepped inside and hung his hat on the hat tree in the entry. His attention was almost immediately caught by the sound of unruly giggles coming from the dining room.
Apparently the weather-confined children had found some sort of amusement indoors. There were five other youngsters besides Penny currently in residence here. Mrs. Collins’s three girls, Audrey, Pippa and Lottie, and her young brother Danny were, of course, permanent residents.
The other child, Mrs. Collins’s niece Viola, had moved in just last week. The child’s parents were currently on a trip out of the country. Viola, it turns out, was also Miss Lassiter’s niece since Miss Lassiter’s brother Ry was married to Mrs. Collins’s sister Josie. From what he could tell, that nebulous relationship was the only thing the two women had in common.
It seemed odd that a woman who professed to have grown up on a cattle ranch would be so inept at cooking and housework. Since Miss Lassiter’s arrival, routines had gone out the window, the meals had been barely palatable and housework seemed to be handled with a less-than-impressive ‘lick and a promise’ approach.
About the best one could say for her in the way of domestic skills was that she had a way with children. In fact, his normally reticent sister had taken a keen liking to the flibbertigibbet of a woman. Then again, Miss Lassiter acted as if she were little more than an overgrown child herself. It was probably just as well he’d be moving Penny away from her unfortunate influence soon.
Speaking of which, was that Miss Lassiter’s voice mingled in with the children’s laughter?

Sadie, blinded by the cloth wrapped around her head, felt a half dozen hands turning her this way and that, leaving her completely disoriented. The sound of laughter blended with that of the rain pattering against the windows.
“Enough, enough,” she protested, “I’m getting dizzy.” Please, Heavenly Father, help me get through this without showing signs of panic.
“One more turn,” replied one of her tormenters. It sounded like Audrey, who, though only seven, was often the ringleader of any mischief the group got into.
Finally the hands fell away and Sadie was left standing with no point of reference to tell her which direction she faced. She took a deep breath, keeping the smile planted firmly on her face. “All right, you little imps, look out ’cause here I come.”
Because of her fear of small, dark spaces, blindman’s bluff had never been one of her favorite games. She’d promised Cora Beth to keep the restless children occupied for an hour or two, though, and she’d made the mistake of letting the children pick the activity.
Really, this wasn’t so bad. Even though she was blindfolded, there was lots of room to move around. It wasn’t like her nightmare of being trapped in a closet or chest.
Muffled giggles, from Pippa and Lottie this time, cued her that the five-year-old twins were located to her left. She already felt a touch of anxiety thudding in her chest at the prolonged darkness, but she resisted the urge to go after the two youngest and instead turned to her right.
Holding her hands out in front of her at chest level reassured her that there was lots of room to move around and Sadie took a couple of tentative steps before she made contact with the sideboard. Ah-ha! A point of reference. The sound of footsteps scampering away to her left brought a smile to her face.
“Remember, you can’t leave the dining room,” she warned with mock sternness.
Something brushed against her ankle, startling a squeak from her. A moment later her heart returned to normal rhythm as she realized who the culprit was. “Does it count if I catch Daffy?” she called out.
“Cats can’t play.”
So, Viola was straight ahead. Her eight-year-old niece hadn’t been ‘it’ yet. Sadie took a couple of confident steps, straining to catch any sound that might indicate her target was on the move.
Then she caught the sound of a heavier footstep, coming from the direction of what she judged to be the hallway. It wasn’t Cora Beth. Uncle Grover, then. Thank you, Father.
All she had to do was tempt the good-humored older gentleman to enter the room and she’d have an easy capture. And the sooner she could remove this blindfold, the easier she’d breathe.
Moving as quickly as she dared under the circumstances, Sadie headed in the direction of the hallway. “Would you step in the dining room for a moment,” she called out in her sweetest tone.
Sadie’s hand connected with a sleeve and she latched onto her quarry’s arm with an iron grip. “Gotcha!” She smiled in relief. “Sorry, Uncle Grover, but I caught you fair and square.”
Why was his sleeve wet?
“Not exactly.”
Uh-oh. She recognized that stern tone at about the same time she realized the arm beneath her grip was much too firm and muscled to be Uncle Grover’s.
Sadie released his arm as if it were a snake, then yanked off her blindfold. She looked up into the disapproving gray eyes of the much too proper Mr. Eli Reynolds. His censuring stare made her feel smaller than her five-foot-three height.
The man disapproved of her—for the life of her she couldn’t figure out why—but this was no doubt going to add another entry to his list of her shortcomings. “I’m so sorry.” The heat climbed in her cheeks. “I thought you were Cora Beth’s Uncle Grover.”
“So I gathered.” He didn’t raise his voice and his tone was conversational. So why did she feel as if she were being scolded?
“You’ve obviously found an enjoyable way to pass the afternoon,” he continued. “Much more enjoyable than, say, chores would be.”
Oh yes, there was definitely a barb buried in that smooth-as-corn silk tone. “Most of the chores are done,” she said. “The kids and I were just having a bit of fun while supper simmers on the stove.”
“How pleasant.” He gave her a pointed look. “I wonder how Mrs. Collins is faring? Perhaps I should send Penny to check on her.”
And to think she’d thought him interesting and in need of a friend when she’d first met him a week ago. “Cora Beth is resting at the moment.” Not that she owed him an explanation.
Then a smile twitched her lips as an impudent idea took root. “But it is time for me to check on things in the kitchen.” She handed the blindfold to Audrey. “Looks like Mr. Reynolds is ‘it’ now. Y’all have fun.”
With that, she swished past the suddenly disconcerted gentleman and headed toward the kitchen.
That should give the too-stuffy-for-his-own-good Eli Reynolds something new to frown over.

Chapter Two
Sadie felt quite pleased with herself—for all of about five seconds. Putting him on the spot that way had been a petty move on her part. No matter what his demeanor, she was convinced his intentions were good and he didn’t deserve such treatment. But the man really did have a way of getting her back up. Did he even know how to have fun?
Poor Penny. What would that little girl’s life be like once she moved out of the boardinghouse and had only her brother for company?
Shaking off that thought, Sadie pushed open the kitchen door and immediately forgot the Reynolds siblings.
“Goodness, Cora Beth, what do you think you’re doing? You’re supposed to be resting.” Sadie had come here a week ago to lend a hand while her brother’s sister-in-law recuperated. Though she’d only met Cora Beth twice before, she’d jumped at the opportunity to do this. Not because she’d felt charitable, but because she’d been feeling restless and purposeless of late. Coming here and pitching in was supposed to make her feel useful, but so far things hadn’t exactly worked out as planned.
Cora Beth was too polite to say anything, but Sadie knew her domestic skills had not lived up to the challenge of running a boardinghouse. Rather than trying to lend a hand herself, she would have done better to have hired some competent help. In fact, Sadie was beginning to wonder if she’d ever find a place where she served a real purpose.
Cora Beth smiled over her shoulder. “I’m tired of resting. Thought I’d check on the stew.”
Sadie pushed her much-too-maudlin thoughts aside and marched across the room, glad Eli Reynolds wasn’t here to see that his fears were well-founded. “Dr. Whitman said you weren’t to use that hand any more than you had to for another week.”
“It only takes one hand to stir a pot.”
“Still, that’s my job for the time being. I may not be able to cook as well as you, but I can make do. And I didn’t travel eighty miles just to watch you defy doctor’s orders.” Sadie held her hand out for the spoon. When Cora Beth hesitated, she added “We may not know each other well, but you should’ve learned enough about me by now to understand I can be downright stubborn when I’ve a mind to have my way.” Having been raised on a cattle ranch in a mainly masculine household, Sadie had spent most of her life surrounded by folks who tended to either underestimate her abilities or treat her as if she were still a child.
One thing this trip had accomplished was to give her an opportunity to show her mettle among these relative strangers and she aimed to take full advantage of that.
Cora Beth held onto the spoon a moment longer but Sadie stood firm.
“Oh, very well.” Cora Beth surrendered the spoon and moved away from the stove. She gave Sadie an exasperated look. “And there’s nothing wrong with your cooking.”
Sadie gave her an unconcerned smile, deciding to be gracious in victory. “There’s no need for you to sugarcoat things—I know my shortcomings as well as my talents. Out at Hawk’s Creek the kitchen has always been Inez’s domain and I’m happy to leave her to it. About the best you can say for my cooking is that it’s edible. But we’ll all muddle through for the next few days while you take care of yourself.”
Heavenly Father, please let me do well enough not to embarrass Cora Beth in front of her boarders again. I’m asking not for myself, You understand, but for the folks who have to eat my cooking. Sadie struggled with her conscience a moment, then added a postscript to her silent prayer. All right, it would also save me a bit of embarrassment, as well.
“A commendable attitude.”
It took Sadie a moment to realize Cora Beth was responding to her comment—not her silent prayer.
“Did I hear Mr. Reynolds come in?” Cora Beth added.
Sadie tried to keep her tone light. “Yep. Walked smack-dab into the middle of our blindman’s bluff game.” Funny, though, that even when she was irritated with the man she could notice how the rain had darkened his pecan-brown hair a couple of shades and caused it to curl up slightly at the ends.
“Oh dear.” Cora Beth gave a rueful smile. “I take it he didn’t approve.”
An understatement. Sadie sighed. “I don’t know what I did to curdle that man’s cream but it’s plain to see he doesn’t think much of me.” It was a shame, really. Her first impression of him had been positive, and it wasn’t just because she liked the lean, broad-shouldered look of him. He was a bit too somber, perhaps, but he had a certain air of quiet confidence mixed with respect for others that she admired. What had really drawn her to him, though, was the hint of suppressed sadness she thought she’d sensed in him.
Of course, she’d been known to be wrong before.
“I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that.” Cora Beth’s words drew her back to the present. “He just needs to get to know you a little better is all. He’s really a very nice man.”
Nice, yes—he just didn’t approve of her. Which was a new experience for Sadie. She might still be treated as something of a child at home, but folks tended to like her. And as one of the Lassiter siblings and part owner of the Hawk’s Creek Ranch, Sadie was used to her name, at least, commanding a certain degree of respect.
“You have to agree, though,” Cora Beth said, “a man who takes such good care of a younger sister the way Mr. Reynolds does must have a lot to recommend him.”
Sadie refrained from comment. Was Cora Beth forming an interest in the newest resident of the boardinghouse? She wouldn’t blame her if she had—still, for some reason, that thought didn’t sit well.
Best to change the subject. “Now, get yourself on out of here. If you don’t want to lie down, why don’t you find a book to read or something quiet to do with the kids?”
“Don’t you want some company?”
Sadie knew if Cora Beth stayed she’d try to lend a hand. The woman just didn’t know how to take it easy. “That’s not—”
The door eased open just then, and Penny stood there, hesitating as if unsure of her welcome.
Sadie smiled at the young girl. “Hi there, princess, come on in.” Then she arched a brow Cora Beth’s way. “Seems I have someone to keep me company, after all. And since I intend to teach her all my kitchen secrets, you’ll just have to run along.”
Cora Beth looked from one to the other of them, then smiled. “Very well. I think I’ll see what Uncle Grover’s been up to today.”
As soon as she’d left, Penny looked up at Sadie. “Are you really going to teach me secrets?”
Sadie tapped the little girl on the nose. “Actually, my biggest secret is that I’m not very good in the kitchen. But if you’d like to help, maybe between the two of us we can pull off something acceptable. What do you say?”
Penny’s buckskin-colored pigtails danced as she nodded.
“Good. Now, let’s find you an apron.” Sadie hummed as she bustled around the kitchen, glad of the girl’s company. She’d taken a real liking to the quiet nine-year-old this past week. And it really warmed her heart to see that the feeling was returned. With Penny she never felt judged or that she had to prove herself. The little girl just seemed to enjoy being with her.
Once she’d tied the oversized apron on Penny, Sadie put a finger to her chin. “Now, let’s see. The stew is doing fine and the bread is already done.” She’d even managed not to overcook or undercook it this time. “I guess we’re ready to work on dessert.”
Penny smiled, luring forth the rare appearance of her dimple. “I like dessert.”
“So do I. Cora Beth helped me with a pound cake this morning, but I thought we might try to make a sauce to pour over it. Inez, the cook over at our ranch, makes a really scrumptious honey sauce that I think I can duplicate.” At least she hoped she could. “Why don’t you get the honey from the pantry while I get the butter and the cream?”
Penny nodded and headed off to do just that.
Sadie placed the butter and cream on the table then paused when she spied a neatly folded copy of this week’s Gazette on the counter. At least one thing had gone right since her trip here. Mr. Chalmers had agreed to run her story and it had met with gratifying success. She might not be a good cook, but it seemed she could spin a fine yarn. The thought of accomplishing something like this entirely on her own boosted her spirits again.
“Here’s the honey.”
Sadie glanced at the crock in the girl’s hands and gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, princess, that’s the wrong container.” Cora Beth had taken pains to explain to her that that particular jar contained a special honey that she used exclusively for her fruitcakes. Apparently it took on a special flavor because of the flowers that grew near the hard-to-find hive. “There’s a blue crock on the same shelf where you found that one—it has the store-bought honey.”
Penny nodded and turned back. But before she’d taken more than a step, she dropped the crock.
Sadie gazed down in horrified fascination at the sticky shards of crockery and gooey splatters. Cora Beth was not going to be happy.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
Penny’s cracked-voice apology snapped Sadie out of her thoughts and she gave the girl a bright smile. “That’s okay, princess, it was an accident. Don’t you worry any more about it. Goodness knows I’ve had more than my fair share the past few days.”
“Is Mrs. Collins going to be very upset?”
Sadie flipped her hand dismissively. “Oh, not at all. I’ll just get her some fresh honey and she’ll be happy as a hog in a wallow.”
Penny wrinkled her nose as she smiled. “You say the funniest things.”
“That I do.” She gave the girl’s shoulder a pat. “Now, you fetch the mop while I get a pail of water to clean this up. And watch your step.”
Worried that the little girl might cut herself on the shards, Sadie fetched the other crock of honey and placed it on the table with the butter and cream. “Do you mind working on the honey sauce while I clean the floor? It would really be a big help.”
Penny’s shoulders drew back and her chest puffed out a bit, obviously proud of being given such a ‘big girl’ responsibility. “I can do that.”
Hiding a smile, Sadie got her started, pouring the ingredients into a large bowl in what looked to be the correct proportions. “Now you just stir that up until it’s all mixed together and the lumps are gone.” She gave the girl a challenging look. “It may take a while to get it just right. Think you’re up to it?”
“Oh yes. You can count on me.”
Sadie gave her a big smile. “I know I can. You and I make a pretty good team.”
Rolling up her sleeves, Sadie stepped over to the splatter and got down on her knees. At least this chore was one she was confident she could accomplish well.
A few minutes later she dropped the last of the larger shards into the trash pail and wiped the back of her hand across her forehead. “How’s it coming?” she asked Penny.
“There’s still a few lumps, but I’m getting close.”
“Good. Guess I’d better check on the stew before I finish up here.” She certainly didn’t want to scorch supper the way she had last night. Who knew a roast could go from pink to charred so fast?
She put her hands on her thighs, prepared to stand. But her shoe caught on the hem of her skirt and she came down hard, landing on her backside with a jarring thud.
“Oh!” Penny’s exclamation rang with anxiety.
But before Sadie could tell her she was okay, the door pushed open and Eli Reynolds stepped through. Sadie groaned inwardly. Of all times for her biggest critic to show up.
“Have you seen—” Penny’s brother halted midsentence, his expression turning to a mix of surprise and something else she couldn’t quite identify from this distance.
Then he crossed the room, bearing down on her with long, quick strides that took her aback.
“Sadie fell,” Penny proclaimed worriedly. “I don’t know if she’s hurt.”
“I’m fine.” Even if she hadn’t been, Sadie would never have hinted otherwise. She ignored the urge to rub her now-tender backside. If only he would just go away and leave her to recover her wounded dignity in private.
She stared up from her less-than-dignified position as he knelt beside her, waiting for the inevitable censure. Instead, he met her gaze with a concern that took her completely by surprise. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
She blinked, not quite certain how to react to this softer side of the man. “Yes, I mean, there’s no need—”
Why in the world was she stammering? She took a deep breath then offered a self-mocking smile. “The only thing smarting at the moment is my pride.”
He studied her a moment longer, then offered a hand. “In that case, here, let me help you up.”
She allowed him to take her elbow, liking the feel of his strong, protective grip. When he placed his other hand at her back to steady her, she decided, that yes, she liked this very much indeed.
“You’re bleeding!”
Penny, her complexion ashen, was pointing to Sadie’s hand.
Sadie stared at the thin ribbon of blood running from her palm as if it belonged to someone else. Then she turned back to Penny. “It’s all right, princess. I must have put my hand on a bit of crockery when I fell. But it doesn’t hurt. Truly.”
Mr. Reynolds intervened. “Just to be certain, let’s clean it up and have a look.”
“Oh, that’s not necess—”
He caught her gaze and tilted his head ever so slightly toward Penny. “I think everyone will feel better if I do.”
Penny nodded. “You don’t have to worry, Aunt Sadie. Eli’s real good at making boo-boos feel better.”
She saw his brow go up at Penny’s use of ‘Aunt Sadie’ but he let it pass without comment. Warmed by the thought that he took time to address his sister’s ‘boo-boos’, she allowed him to steer her towards the sink.
Even as she followed docilely along, though, Sadie again tried to make light of her injury. “Truly, it’s just a little cut.”
“Best to be safe.” He carefully extended her hand over the sink, filled a dipper with water, then looked up. “Ready?”
Seeing reassurance instead of disapproval in those cool gray eyes of his was a new experience for Sadie, one she found she rather enjoyed. Then she realized he was waiting for her response. “Ready,” she answered.
He gave her an approving smile, then slowly poured the water over the cut. It was strange to feel him holding her hand like this. His own hand was smoother than those of the ranch hands she was used to, but not soft in a namby-pamby way. She sensed strength there and an unexpected protectiveness.
“Looks like there’s a sliver embedded in your palm.” He glanced up and met her gaze again. “This might hurt a bit. I’ll make it quick.”
She nodded. Staring at his bent head, she noticed the way his hair tended to curl around his ear, how his brow wrinkled slightly when he was concentrating. His expression shifted and she saw the flicker of concern as he caught hold of the offending sliver, then the small spurt of triumph mixed with relief as he pulled it free.
“Sorry.”
She blinked and it took her moment to realize he was apologizing for any discomfort his actions had caused her. “I hardly felt a thing.” Which was the absolute truth as far as the cut was concerned.
Penny held out a bit of cloth. Sadie had been so riveted by Eli that she hadn’t noticed Penny had crossed the room. “You can use this for a bandage,” she said to her brother.
“Of course.” He took the cloth from her and again his touch was gentle and sure as he wrapped her palm in the makeshift bandage.
“Thank you.” Was that soft voice hers?
He cradled her hand a moment longer as his gaze caught on hers.
And held.
For several long, breath-stealing moments.

Chapter Three
“Wild wiggly worms, what happened in here?”
At the sound of Danny’s horrified question, Eli abruptly released Miss Lassiter’s hand and they both spun around.
He straightened his cuffs, trying to regain his composure. Surely Cora Beth’s brother didn’t think—
A heartbeat later he realized Danny was staring, not at the two of them, but at the mess on the floor.
“Just a little accident with the honey crock,” Miss Lassiter explained. “Nothing to get all excited about.”
“Who—”
“It doesn’t really matter who dropped it. What’s done is done.”
Eli raised a brow at her hasty interruption. Did she have trouble admitting when she’d made a mistake?
Danny didn’t seem inclined to let the matter drop. “But that was the last of Cora Beth’s fruitcake honey.”
Fruitcake honey? What was that?
Miss Lassiter, however, seemed to have no trouble understanding the significance. “I know, and that’s unfortunate. But don’t worry, I’ll make it up to her.”
Eli took himself in hand while Danny and Miss Lassiter babbled on about the honey. No doubt his uncomfortable, off balance feeling of a moment ago was caused by sympathy for Miss Lassiter’s injury, nothing more. After all, it was quite natural for a gentleman to feel some concern for a lady in distress. Especially a petite little thing like Miss Lassiter.
It was time he set his mind to more important matters. Like pressing his suit with Mrs. Collins. He’d set a few pieces in motion this evening and then lay his case before her tomorrow.
No doubt she would think his proposal sudden, but Mrs. Collins struck him as a sensible woman, one not given to fanciful notions. And since his offer of marriage would afford her an opportunity to finally shed the onerous workload she bore as proprietress of this boardinghouse, he was confident she would view his suit most favorably.
He spared a glance for Miss Lassiter. She’d moved back to the table with Penny and the two of them were stirring something in a large bowl. They looked so comfortable together, as if they were old friends. How did she manage to coax that sweet smile from his sister so often?
He shook his head to clear it from those stray thoughts. This waffling was unlike him—he preferred an orderly, calculated approach to decision making. Cora Beth Collins was the logical choice and she would make a wonderful mother figure for Penny.
And after tomorrow it would be settled.

The evening meal passed pleasantly enough. The food, while not up to Mrs. Collins’s standards, was passable. And Miss Lassiter made a point of giving credit to Penny for making the dessert sauce. While his sister reddened under the attention, she also seemed pleased by it, as well. He would have to remember to thank Miss Lassiter for her consideration.
He was also pleased with the progress he’d made with Mrs. Collins. Earlier he’d sought her out and asked for her help with the selection of a cook-housekeeper for his new home. He’d solicited her opinion on what qualities he should look for, then asked for suggestions on which local women might be suitable. He’d been impressed with her thought processes—another signal that he’d selected the right woman. In the end, he’d convinced her to allow each of the three women she’d recommended to take a day and cook the meals here at the boardinghouse so she could help him evaluate their performances.
He’d dropped a few hints about how dearly he valued her opinion and how he hoped to find a woman ‘just like her’ to preside in his home. He’d been subtle, as propriety dictated, but he was confident she would not be completely surprised when he proposed tomorrow.
Once the meal ended, Eli stood, ready to make his exit with the other boarders so the family would have the freedom to clear the dining room, but Mrs. Collins detained him with a comment. “I understand the work is almost complete on your new home,” she stated.
Eli nodded, taking it as a positive sign that she had singled him out. “Yes. Unfortunately that means we’ll soon have to say good-bye to the wonderful hospitality we’ve enjoyed here at your fine establishment.” Of course, if things worked according to plan, she would soon be enjoying the relative ease that came with presiding over his household.
“As pleased as we’ve been to have you and Penny with us,” she replied, “I’m certain you’ll be happy to be settled into your own home.”
Eli found himself momentarily distracted by the sound of Miss Lassiter’s laughter. It was a sound he’d heard quite a bit during the past week, though rarely when he was in her immediate presence. Not a polite titter or girlish giggle, hers tended to be a robust laugh, full of merriment and outright enjoyment. Hard to believe all of that exuberance could be contained in such a petite frame. A second later he had to school his expression as he realized he’d smiled in response.
“At any rate,” Mrs. Collins continued, “it’s good to see the old Thompson place all spruced up. It was so sad the way it got so run down after Mrs. Thompson passed away last winter.”
Audrey approached them with Viola and Penny in tow. “Momma, is it true we have to wait until next week to find out what happens to Annabel Adams?”
“Afraid so, girls.”
Audrey’s lower lip poked out. “But that’s such a long time.”
“Which means you’ll have an opportunity to practice patience. Now back to clearing the table.”
Audrey didn’t seem at all happy with that answer, but she nodded and moved toward the table.
Eli, however, was more focused on his sister. “Penny, am I to understand you’ve actually read this nonsense?”
She responded with a guilty smile. “Aunt Sadie read it to us this afternoon.” Her expression turned earnest. “And it’s not nonsense, Eli. Annabel Adams is so brave and good-hearted.”
Miss Lassiter, was it? He should have known. He’d have a word with her on the subject, but he wasn’t such an oaf that he’d dress her down in front of her friends.
As Penny moved away, Mrs. Collins offered him a smile. “It really is quite harmless and entertaining, you know. Everyone’s been talking about The Amazing Adventures of Annabel Adams ever since it appeared in the Gazette this week. Printing it was certainly a smart move on Fred Chalmers’ part. I reckon there’ll be a whole lot more folks than usual lined up for his paper next week.”
Eli supposed from a business perspective it did make sense. But that didn’t mean he approved of his sister reading such drivel. “Any idea who this Temperance Trulove really is?”
“No and Fred Chalmers isn’t talking.”
Why should he? Keeping the author’s identity a secret only piqued the subscribers’ interest all the more.
Time to change the subject. “I’m in the market for a carriage and a horse. Do you know where I might find something of quality?”
“Danny would be more able to help you with that than me.” They moved toward the boy, who was gathering up an armload of dirty dishes.
Once Eli explained what he needed, Danny nodded. “There’s a couple of rigs whose owners would likely part with them for the right price. What kind are you looking for?”
Eli was surprised at how grown up the eleven-year-old suddenly appeared. Apparently he was all business when it came to the livery stable. “Something suitable for getting around town and for short excursions. With enough room to seat three or four comfortably.”
“Mr. Anderson’s buggy is your best bet then. It’s extra roomy and still in fine shape, but now that his kids are moved on he wants to replace it with something that has less seating and more room to haul goods. As for horses—”
“My brother runs Kestrel Stables,” Miss Lassiter interjected. “He raises the finest horses in these parts. He and Josie are away right now, but I’d be glad to show you his stock.”
That’s right, Miss Lassiter’s brother was married to Mrs. Collins’s sister—that’s how the two came to know each other. He’d met Ryland and Josie Lassiter once when they’d visited Mrs. Collins. Ryland seemed like a fine man, much more levelheaded and grounded than his sister.
“She’s right,” Danny offered. “Ry and Josie raise some mighty fine mounts. It’s where I’d go if I was looking to make a purchase.”
Eli met Miss Lassiter’s gaze. “And can you make deals on his behalf?”
She lifted her chin as if taking offense. “Of course. Ry was the one who taught me most of what I know about horses, so he trusts me. And Henry, Ry’s foreman, will know which animals are for sale and which are not.”
Something flashed in her expression, there and gone so quickly he didn’t quite make it out. “In fact, since Cora Beth mentioned that we’ll have someone else in to do the cooking tomorrow, I was thinking I might take a trip out to the ranch. You’re welcome to accompany me to look over the stock if you like.”
Eli hesitated. Something about her smile made him a trifle uneasy. On the other hand, a horse was an important purchase and he wasn’t inclined to wait the month or so until her brother returned from his trip.
Besides, if she was up to something, he was certain he could handle it. “Thank you for your kind offer. Just let me know what time you wish to depart.”

Sadie placed the hamper next to the sack Mr. Reynolds had already loaded in the back of the buggy for her. As she stepped back she noticed him eyeing her suspiciously.
“Are you making deliveries to the ranch?”
She allowed him to take her hand and help her up. “You could say that. Kestrel is Viola’s home, remember? She wanted to send gifts to her friends there and Cora Beth let her raid the pantry. There are a couple of pears to feed to her pony, a few jars of preserves for the cook, a jug of apple cider for Henry—that sort of thing.” No point mentioning the items she herself had packed just yet.
She cast around for a change of subject as he climbed up beside her and decided the weather was as good a topic as any. She waved a hand to draw his attention to the clouds scattered against the dark blue field of sky. “Looks like we’re in luck weather-wise. If we are in for more rain today, it’s several hours out.”
He nodded as he picked up the reins. “I agree. We should be back in town well before any foul weather sets in.”
After that the conversation lagged. Sadie tried not to fidget as she wondered when and how she should broach her plans for her little side trip with him.
Dear Father above, help me find the right words. This all felt like the right thing to do last night when I planned it, but I’m just not certain he’s going to see it that way.
After about five minutes, Mr. Reynolds finally broke the silence. “There is something I wish to speak to you about.”
“Oh?” From his tone, this did not sound like a conversation she was likely to enjoy.
“In case it has escaped your notice, my sister is young and very impressionable. As are the other children in Mrs. Collins’s household. I think it would be best if you refrain from reading that weekly serial to them in the future.”
His words took her completely by surprise. “Why ever not? The children enjoy it and it seems harmless enough.”
He raised a brow at that. “Do you truly think it appropriate reading material for children?”
“I wouldn’t have read it to them if I didn’t.” Did he think her so irresponsible? And what would he think if he knew she was the author? “The heroine exhibits high morals, healthy curiosity and steadfast courage. Have you even read the story?”
He brushed her question aside. “I didn’t need to. I’ve seen its ilk before. It’s a frivolous piece of work, one that is liable to put notions in innocent young minds that are at best nonsensical, and at worse dangerous.”
How dare he! She shifted in her seat to face him more fully. Did the man realize how pompous he sounded? “Dangerous? That’s a bit melodramatic, don’t you think? I suppose you’d prefer that I read to them from school books or perhaps morality plays.”
He didn’t seem at all ruffled by her sarcasm. “If you must read to them at all I will be happy to furnish you with copies of suitable material.” He glanced her way with a stern look. “Penny is my sister, and I must insist that you accede to my wishes in this matter.”
Sadie took a deep breath. As much as his criticisms stung, and as much as she disagreed with his perspective, he was Penny’s brother and guardian. It was not her place to argue with him about her upbringing.
I’ll trust in You to look out for the girl, Father. Goodness knows she’ll need some sort of intervention if she’s to be allowed any fun at all in her brother’s household.
“Very well.” Sadie was proud of the calm tone she managed. “I won’t read to her about Annabel Adams’s adventures without your permission.” Besides, it wasn’t as if she’d have much opportunity anyway. The installments came out once a week and he’d be moved into his new home soon. And she’d be headed back to Hawk’s Creek before long, putting even more distance between them.
Hoping to lighten the mood, she changed the subject. “So tell me about where you and Penny come from. That’s definitely not a Texas accent you speak with.”
“We come from Almega, New York, a city about thirty miles southeast of Albany. It’s much bigger than Knotty Pine with a nice variety of theaters, museums, fine restaurants, and even a hospital. All of the latest modern conveniences are available there and you can find more shops on one street than there are houses in Knotty Pine.”
She supposed she should be impressed, but it all sounded terribly crowded to her. “So what made you leave such a fine place to come out here?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. She was probably being too nosy again.
“I thought the change would be good for Penny,” he finally said. “And the bank here was a good investment opportunity.”
He’d done all this for his sister? He must care a great deal for her. “Penny sure is a sweet girl and bright as all get-out. I know Cora Beth’s kids and Viola are all quite taken with her. She seems a mite shy, though.”
He stiffened. “She’s just naturally quiet.”
Sadie heard the note of defensiveness in his voice. “Of course. I didn’t mean to imply I thought there was anything wrong with her.” She smiled. “Any more than there’s anything wrong with Audrey for her natural chattiness.”
He seemed to relax at that, and his lips twitched in a smile. “True—no one would ever accuse Audrey of being a wallflower.”
Oh my, he really should smile more often. Then she caught site of an oak with a double trunk and a twisted branch. “You need to turn on that road off to the left up ahead.”
When he followed her directions without question, Sadie felt a twinge of guilt. She’d wait just a few minutes more, she told herself. Once they were off the main road a piece, she’d fill him in.
She kept up a stream of chatter hoping to keep him distracted from his surroundings as she watched for the milestones Danny had told her about.
Fifteen minutes later, he interrupted her mid-sentence. “Miss Lassiter, are you certain this is the right way? I haven’t seen any farmhouse or other sign of civilization for a while.”
“Oh, we’re going in the right direction—I’m sure of it.”
“Your brother’s ranch is out this way?”
Okay, time to come clean. “Not exactly.”
That brought the expected frown. “Explain, please.”
She winced at the frostiness of his tone. Perhaps she really should have let him in on her plans sooner. “I have an errand to run for Cora Beth and thought we’d handle that bit of business first.”
“An errand?”
Did she detect a note of suspicion in his question? “Yes. I need to fetch something she needs.” Oh dear, was he slowing the horse? “I assure you it’s important. We just need to go a little further down this road.”
He pursed his lips as if unhappy with the unplanned detour, so she quickly added, “And I promise you, Cora Beth will be very grateful.”
Finally he nodded, and to her relief he allowed the horse to resume its earlier pace. “I suppose, if Mrs. Collins asked you to do this, it’s the least we could do. But I hadn’t expected to be gone all day.”
“You won’t be.”
A few minutes later he cut her another sideways glance. “I’m beginning to feel like we took a wrong turn. Are you certain you know where we’re going?”
“Absolutely. I asked Danny to run through the directions twice and I’ve seen several of the landmarks he gave me. It should be just a little farther along.”
He didn’t seem reassured. “Exactly what is the nature of this errand you are running for Mrs. Collins?”
Sadie took a deep breath and then offered him her brightest smile.
He was not going to like the answer to that question.

Chapter Four
“Actually, I’m looking for Josie’s honey tree.”
Eli thought for a moment he’d misheard. “You’re what?”
“Looking for Josie’s honey tree.” She made the statement as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. “I want to replace the honey that spilled out on the floor yesterday.”
He pulled the buggy to a stop and set the brake. He couldn’t believe he’d gone all this way down a rutted-pig’s-trail-of-a-road on such a fool’s errand. When he turned to speak to her again it was all he could do not to growl. “And Mrs. Collins asked you to do this?”
“Actually, I intended it as a surprise.” Before he could say anything she rushed on. “I never said Cora Beth asked me. I just said we were fetching something for her. Which we are.” She grimaced, then sat up straighter. “I’m sorry. I do know that a lie by omission is still a lie. You’re right to be angry. I should have been more up-front with you.”
Her honesty was disarming but it still didn’t make him any fonder of the current situation. “If you felt the need to replace the honey you ruined, why couldn’t you just purchase a jar at the mercantile?”
A flash of some strong emotion crossed her face, but then she shook it off. “Because that honey was special.” Her tone was earnest but he noticed the way she clasped and unclasped her hands in her lap. “It was the last of a batch of wild honey that has a unique flavor. Cora Beth uses it to make those wonderful fruitcakes that she sells. She didn’t say anything but I know she’s worried about missing some of her regular delivery dates, what with her hurt arm. And now this. She counts on the income from those cakes to help her make ends meet.”
Something she would have no need to do once she became his wife. Not that he could say that to Miss Lassiter.
“The location of the hive is supposed to be secret,” she continued, her voice a nervous babble, “but I had a suspicion Danny would know where it might be.” Her expression turned smug. “I grew up with two brothers of my own and they weren’t likely to let a secret like that get the better of them. Sure enough, when I questioned Danny he admitted he followed Josie, all sneaky-like, on one of her trips. He couldn’t get real close—seems he swells up something awful when he gets stung, but he got close enough to spot the general vicinity.”
That was it? That was what she’d based this ill thought-out expedition on? “I’m going to find a place to turn this buggy around and we’re going to head right back to the main road.”
Dismay clouded her expression. “You can’t, not when we’ve already come this far. Look, right over there is the turtle back rock Danny told me about. We’re close, I know it.”
“Miss Lassiter, I don’t—”
She placed a hand on his arm. “Please. If not for me, do it for Cora Beth. This would mean a great deal to her.”
Her action, as well as the touch of desperation in her tone, startled him.
As if seeing him weaken, she pressed her case. “Give it just ten more minutes. If we haven’t found the hive by then, I’ll go without complaint.” She gave him a cajoling smile. “Besides, who doesn’t like the idea of a treasure hunt?”
He had to bite back a smile at that—the woman really was incorrigible. “Oh very well—ten minutes.” He hoped he didn’t regret the decision. “What’s the next landmark we’re looking for?”
She released his arm and settled back into her seat. “Thank you. There should be a small cabin of some sort just a little way farther along. Then we’ll need to go the rest of the way by foot.”
Of course they would. But he absolutely drew the line at wondering through the woods. If it wasn’t in easy sight of the trail he would most definitely put an end to her quest. “If Danny didn’t set eyes on the hive itself, how do you know you can find it?”
“He says he got close enough to hear her working. Don’t worry, I’ll find it.”
The small cabin turned out to be a one room building that looked as if it would topple over with the next good wind that blew by.
Eli tied the horse to a bit of brush, then paused as he considered a possible flaw in her plan. “Do you even know how to collect honey?”
But she nodded confidently. “I’ve done it a time or two—remember, I have two brothers and I grew up on a ranch.” She smiled as he took her hand to help her down. “How about you?”
“I have not yet had that pleasure.”
His sarcasm seemed lost on her. “Don’t worry, I’ll show you how. I have some netting and gloves for the two of us so we shouldn’t have to worry much about getting stung. And I also have some oil-soaked rags for smoking the little critters, along with a bucket to collect the honey comb in.”
He’d wondered why she’d packed so many provisions to deliver to her brother’s ranch. “Sounds like you came prepared.”
“Of course. Actually, I don’t know how Josie managed it on her own. I’ve always thought of this as a two-person job. Come to think of it, it’ll be interesting to see how she managed to not destroy the hive while she was at it.”
He stepped forward to assist as she reached behind the seat of the buggy to collect her supplies. He was irritated with her, yes, but he was still a gentleman.
Miss Lassiter studied the brush beside the road and finally pointed toward a narrow space between two scraggly saplings. “There’s a trail here, just like Danny said. But it’s overgrown and looks to be marshy in spots, so watch your step.”
He stepped forward. “I’d better take the lead.” He wasn’t going to risk her getting them lost or wandering too far afield.
Saying the trail was overgrown was an understatement. Within minutes Eli began to wonder if this was actually a trail at all. When his left shoe sunk into a muddy patch a few moments later, he was ready to call the whole thing off. “I’m sorry, Miss Lassiter, but I think—”
“Look, there it is.”
Eli glanced to his left where she was pointing and sure enough the brush gave way to a small flower-bedecked clearing. And right at the edge of it was a crudely constructed man-made hive.
Without waiting for his lead, she moved toward the clearing. “Why Josie, you clever girl. So this is how you were able to harvest honey from the same hive time after time.” She glanced over her shoulder at Eli. “Normally, when you harvest honey from a natural hive, you end up destroying the hive itself or killing the queen. But Josie’s created a cleverly designed artificial hive using this log. This way, you can get at the honey with minimal disruption to the bees.” Then she looked around. “Oh my—no wonder the honey has such a distinctive flavor. I see honeysuckle vines, wild roses and larkspur, but I don’t even know what half of these other flowers are.”
Eli was struck by the way her face fairly glowed with pleasure as she took it all in. That simple joy made her look even more childlike than usual.
Then she turned back to him and her expression immediately sobered. “Sorry. I know you’re in a hurry to get this over with.”
Oddly moved by the loss of her smile, he almost felt as if he should apologize to her for having dampened her mood.
She waved toward the bag he carried. “You can set that here.” As soon as he’d set it down, she dug around inside and withdrew two pair of gloves and netting.
She turned and handed him a large piece of the netting. “Place this around your head and tuck it securely into the collar of your shirt. It’ll keep the bees from getting to your face and neck. Then put these gloves on to protect your hands.”
Eli studied the material uncertainly. He hadn’t really expected them to find the hive, hadn’t considered that he might actually have to assist in the harvesting. Where was his backup plan when he needed one?
But it seemed he was committed to this project now. With a mental sigh he did as she’d instructed.
Despite his misgivings, he actually found himself intrigued by the whole honey-gathering experience. Miss Lassiter spent some time exploring the setup of the hive and the implements Mrs. Collins’s sister had left on site, all carefully wrapped in oilcloth and stored off the ground to keep them from rotting or rusting. His companion seemed delighted with each new discovery and her explanations were filled with superlatives. When she finally set to work, she patiently explained everything she did and everything she needed him to do in great detail, from how to gently waft the smoke into the hive to how to slice the comb as she lifted the frames.
Her bubbly enthusiasm and childlike pleasure in the task puzzled him. The woman seemed to tackle every job she undertook as an adventure to be savored. Which, while naive and inefficient, was also an intriguing novelty. One, he was certain, would become tiresome over time. And surprisingly she seemed much more confidant and capable than she had with her duties at the boardinghouse.
Once they’d finally collected enough honey to satisfy her they moved a safe distance from the hive with their treasure. She set her burdens down and removed the netting from her head, losing a few hairpins in the process. “Now aren’t you glad we came?” she asked as she tucked the cloth into the sack. “You had a chance to experience something new, and Cora Beth will be so pleased with the honey.”
He added his netting and gloves to the sack and then glanced up at the sky as he picked it up. “Let’s just try to make it to your brother’s ranch before that rain starts.”
She seemed disappointed with his staid response, but nodded. “You have the sack, so I’ll take—”
They both reached for the bucket of honey at the same time, their hands overlapping on the handle. He studied her small, delicate hand next to his larger, coarser one and felt that same something strange that had jangled through him in the boarding-house kitchen yesterday.
He forced his gaze up to meet hers and was surprised by the soft warmth in those sorrel-brown depths. Shaking off his momentary disquiet, Eli released the bucket and straightened. “We’d best hurry.”
He preceded her as they marched toward the road, wondering what had gotten into him lately. Perhaps all the events of the past few months were finally starting to have an effect on him. He—
A movement on the ground in front of him caught his attention and he halted mid-step. His pulse quickened as he recognized the coiled form. He hated snakes!
His companion bumped into him and he took firm hold of her arm. “I don’t want to alarm you, but there’s a snake directly in our path. Move back.” He tried to keep his voice calm, to ignore the sweat trickling down his back. She would no doubt count on him to keep her safe.
The snake lifted its head and flicked its tongue in their direction. Fighting his own visceral reaction, Eli tried to tug Miss Lassiter back with him. Problem was, she didn’t seem to feel the same sense of urgency.
Blabbering some nonsense about the snake being harmless, she tried to pull away from him. Concerned for her safety he held onto her all the harder and tried to pull her away from the snake’s proximity.
And then it happened. He caught his left foot on something and a sharp pain in the vicinity of his ankle drove him to his knees.

Chapter Five
Sadie’s heart thudded in her chest as she dropped to her knees beside him. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?” Please God, let it just be a stumble.
His expression was contorted, a sure sign he was in pain, but he still tried to get up. “The snake. Where—”
“Gone.” She placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him down. “But like I tried to tell you, it was just a harm less king snake.”
He went very still, his expression closing off. Then he nodded stiffly. “My apologies for the overreaction. It seems I made a bit of a fool of myself.”
Sounded like it was his pride that was injured. Growing up with two older brothers, she’d dealt with her fair share of that ailment over the years and knew how prickly it could make a fella. “I’m sure the snakes in this part of the country look different than those do where you come from.” She offered a reassuring smile. “And when in doubt it’s always wise to give the critters a wide berth.”
Her words didn’t seem to ease his stiffness any. Ah well, he’d get over his wounded pride soon enough. Right now they had other things to worry about.
“Can you walk? ’Cause we probably ought to get a move on. Collecting that honey took a little longer than I expected and from the looks of those clouds up there the rain is going to come in sooner than we expected.”
He glanced up toward the sky and nodded.
Sadie bit her lip as she studied him. He seemed to be okay but the fact that he’d made no move yet to stand was making her uneasy.
She could almost see him gather his strength before he started to push himself up, and her stomach knotted.
“You are hurt.” It wasn’t a question.
“I think I twisted my ankle,” he admitted. “I’ll be fine once I get back to the buggy. If you can find me a stout stick to use for leverage—”
“Take my arm and I’ll help you up.”
His look was dismissive. “I appreciate the offer, but you can’t support my weight.” Now he did sound like her brothers. “I’m stronger than I look.”
She saw the stubborn glint in his eye—probably that pride thing again. Before he could protest further she gave him a stern look of her own. “Look, I don’t see any stout sticks nearby and I sure don’t intend to waste time looking for one while we wait for the bottom to fall out of those clouds. So just take my arm.”
His irritation was plain, but after a second he nodded. “Very well.” He took the arm she offered and gingerly stood, while carefully avoiding putting any weight on his left foot.
She gave him a minute to steady himself. “Okay. Now put your arm around my shoulder and we’ll get you to the buggy.”
Without a word, Mr. Reynolds set his hand gingerly on her nearest shoulder.
The man was exasperating. “That’ll never work. I assure you I won’t break and I won’t swoon. For the next few minutes I will simply think of you as one of my brothers and you are free to think of me as a sister. Now, put your arm around me to my other shoulder so you can get proper support and we can get out of here.”
His lips compressed, but he did as she’d commanded.
As they picked their way along the overgrown trail, Sadie was acutely aware of his arm around her, of his weight against her—warm, heavy, vital.
So much for thinking of him like a brother.
By the time they finally made it back to the road, the first drops of rain had begun to fall. It was intermittent, but the fat drops, suddenly darkened sky and oppressive air promised worse to come.
Once at the wagon, he released her and used the frame of the buggy to leverage himself up onto the seat. At least they’d made it to the relative shelter of the buggy before the worst of the weather blew in.
“I apologize for not being able to hand you up,” he said as he settled in, “but—”
“Don’t give it another thought.” She resisted the urge to rub away the tingle that lingered where his arm had been.
“If I can impose on you to untether the horse, we’ll get on our way.”
She could tell that simple request had not been easy for him. “Of course. Just as soon as I fetch that pail of honey.”
“But the rain—”
“Oh, a little rain never hurt anyone. After all the trouble we put into collecting it, I don’t intend to leave even a drop behind if I can help it.”
Before he could protest further, she hiked her skirts up to her ankles and dashed back into the thicket. She grabbed both the honey and the supplies just as the rain began to fall in earnest. Encumbered by her bulky burdens, she made slower progress on the return trip and by the time she was ready to scramble onto the seat beside him she was more than a little damp.
But it had been worth it.
She ignored Mr. Reynolds’s censoring glance and laughed as she tried to shake some of the water from her skirts. “I haven’t played in the rain since I was a schoolgirl—I’d forgotten how fun it was.”
Of course, it would be a lot more fun if her companion wasn’t so stodgy. She wished there was some way she could get him to relax and see the joy in the little things.

Eli resisted the urge to roll his eyes. How could she make light of her sodden state? She had to be uncomfortable. And even on this warm May day, there was a real chance of her catching a cold if she didn’t find something dry to change into soon. He had to get her back to town.
Then she sat up straighter. “Would you like me to take the reins?”
Some of his sympathy evaporated as he gritted his teeth and released the brake. “It’s my ankle that’s hurt, not my hands.” Just because he’d overreacted when he spied the snake was no reason for her to try to mollycoddle him.
Using the small clearing in front of the ramshackle cabin, he turned the wagon around and headed back the way they’d come.
There, that should show her he could still handle the buggy. He gave her a sideways glance. “Given the weather and the condition of my ankle, I think it best we return to town rather than proceed to your brother’s ranch.”
“Yes, of course. We need to get the doctor to look at your ankle as soon as possible.” She rubbed her hand over her arm as she stared out at the downpour.
Had she already taken a chill? He shrugged out of his relatively dry jacket. “Here, put this on.”
“But—”
“No arguments. You’re soaked through and the last thing we need is for you to get sick.” He tried gentling his tone. “After all, Mrs. Collins is counting on you.”
She chewed her lip a moment as he held her gaze and slowly nodded. “Thank you.”
His coat swallowed her up, making her appear even smaller than normal. Several tendrils had escaped the confines of their pins and hung, damp and forlorn, down her neck. His hand moved, almost of its own accord, to brush her cheek in reassurance. At the last moment he came to his senses and flicked the reins instead, hoping she hadn’t noticed his lapse of control.
They rode along in silence for a while as he tried to maneuver the overgrown trail in the rain. The throbbing in his ankle was getting worse and his mood was going downhill with it as a bright flash of lightning lit the sky just then, almost immediately followed by a much-too-close clap of thunder. His companion jumped, but Eli had no time to reassure her. It took all of his focus to steady the horse. Even so, he couldn’t help but notice how tightly she grabbed the seat.
“That sounded like it was close.” She didn’t sound quite so carefree now.
“It was probably further away than it seemed.” Why this sudden urge to comfort her?
A moment later they rounded a corner in the trail and Eli pulled back on the reins. “Whoa.”
Up ahead, a tree was down, completely blocking the road. The char marks on the trunk left no doubt as to what had happened.
Miss Lassiter leaned forward, trying to get a better view through the driving rain. “Do you see any way around it?”
He could tell from her tone that she already knew the answer. “Afraid not.”
She sighed as she settled back in her seat. “What now?”
What now indeed? Under other circumstances he might have tried to find a way to hitch the horse to the trunk and move the blamed thing, at least enough to allow the buggy through. Or left the carriage behind and rode out on the horse alone to find help. But between the worsening storm and his throbbing ankle there was no way he could make the attempt now. They needed a fallback plan. And there was only one option.
“Now we go back to that cabin and wait out the storm.” He used his most decisive tone. “Once the weather clears I’ll find a way to get us out of here.” To add to their problems, he had no idea what kind of shelter that miserable looking cabin was going to afford them when they arrived. He fervently hoped it was more solid than it appeared, but with the luck he was having lately he wouldn’t be surprised if it leaked like a sieve.
It took a bit of maneuvering to get the buggy turned around on the narrow, overgrown road. By the time they were headed back toward the cabin, Eli could feel the tenseness in his shoulders and jaw. Hearing her sneeze only added to his worries about what the rest of this day might hold. What a mess!
She shifted on the seat, glancing his way from the corner of her eye. “I’m sorry I got us into this fix. I suppose I should have thought this whole thing through a little better.”
He agreed, but it would be churlish to say so. Besides, he could have put an end to this as soon as he discovered what she was about. He’d examine his reasons for not doing so later. “I don’t think there is any value to be had in either assigning or assuming blame.” He tried to ease his foot into a more comfortable position. “Our efforts would be better focused on trying to find shelter from this rain.”
It didn’t take long to make their way back to the cabin, but this time they were headed against the wind. Spray from the rain peppered their faces, dampened their clothes. Eli pulled the buggy up as close to the door as possible. Not that it mattered. A person could only get so wet.
Before he could even set the brake, Miss Lassiter had scrambled down and raced around to his side of the buggy.
The woman was already soaking wet.
“Come along, let me help you inside.”
He held onto the frame of the buggy again as he climbed down, but then gingerly placed his arm around her shoulder. There was no time for another argument over the proprieties.
He did his best to help her open the door of the cabin, taking out some of his frustration on the stubborn hinges. Once inside, it took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust. There were four windows with shutters, one set on each wall. Since most of the shutters were broken or askew, enough daylight had pushed through so that it wasn’t entirely gloomy.
It might have been better had it not revealed quite so much.
A thick coat of dust covered everything. ‘Everything’ being a generous term. Very little furniture remained. And it wasn’t just dust—leaves and other debris from outside had made their way inside, as well.
The cabin consisted of one large open area, with an alcove to their right—probably for sleeping—and a fireplace to their left. Fortunately, the roof seemed relatively sound. There was one steady drip in the alcove area and one near what must be the back door. Other than that, the place appeared dry.
He glanced his companion’s way, expecting to see dismay, and perhaps something stronger. Instead she was looking around with interest, seeming pleased by what she saw. “God was definitely looking out for us,” she said cheerily. “We ought to be able to wait out the storm in relative comfort here.”
A sudden rustling from across the room snagged his attention. Before he could do more than stiffen, a squirrel shot out of a far corner. His companion, who’d merely shrugged her shoulders at the sight of that snake earlier, jumped. The animal, tail flickering in agitation, disappeared through a half-shuttered window, apparently preferring the rain to their company.
Miss Lassiter gave him a sheepish look. “Sorry. Hope I didn’t jar you. The squirrel startled me.”
“I’m fine.” He released her shoulder and braced his arm against the wall. To be honest her reaction made him feel slightly better about his own reaction to the snake.
A few other skittering noises came from the vicinity of the alcove, but he told himself they were caused by the wind coming in, not mice or other vermin.
Besides, there were more pressing things to worry about at the moment. Like, was that a working fireplace? A fire would go a long way to helping them dry out.
“Will you be all right for a few minutes?” she asked, reclaiming his attention.
Eli eyed her suspiciously. “Of course. But where do you think you’re going?”
“I need to unhitch and tether the horse. And while I’m out there I intend to fetch whatever I can find in the buggy that we can use to make us more comfortable in here.”
All things he should be taking care of. “That can all wait until the storm—
She held a hand up, palm out. “I can’t get any wetter than I already am. And it would be cruel to leave the horse standing out there for who knows how long hitched to the buggy. Besides, we can’t risk him getting spooked by the storm and running off.”
She was right, of course. But that didn’t make him like it any better. “At least take this.” He pulled his hat off. “That scrap you’ve got on your head is no protection in this weather.” And from the looks of it, it probably wouldn’t ever be fit for use again.
She nodded and untied the ribbon that secured the soggy bit of frippery. He placed his more sensible hat on her head and found himself brushing the hair off her forehead to tuck it under the brim. The wisps tickled his fingers, as if even her hair was prone to playfulness.
He moved back and studied the picture she made in his too-big-for-her coat and hat. They swallowed her up, making her look like a child playing dress up. But she was covered except for the bottom half of her skirt.
As if reading his thoughts she gave him a reassuring smile. “Thanks, this is much better. And don’t worry, I shouldn’t be long.”
He watched her head back out into the weather, feeling frustrated at his enforced uselessness. Then he looked around, taking stock of their temporary shelter. The least he could do was get to work doing what he could to make the place as comfortable as possible. Even though he was certain that thanks to Miss Lassiter, this would be one of the most uncomfortable afternoons he’d spent in quite some time.

Arms full, Sadie shoved the door of the cabin open with her shoulder. The load was bulky and awkward to manage but she hadn’t cared for the idea of making a second trip to the buggy in this weather.
Stepping inside, she found Mr. Reynolds sitting on the low hearth, working on cleaning out the fireplace. Even with damp clothes and smudges on his sleeve, the always-dapper banker was still quite handsome.
He looked up and caught her staring so she looked away, setting the hamper and the covered bucket of honey just inside the door.
“I feel sorry for the mare,” she said to cover her embarrassment. “She’s a good horse and deserves a nice dry barn to wait out the storm in.”
“Hopefully this will blow over soon.”
Sadie refrained from comment, but she’d seen this kind of storm before. She doubted it would be over “soon.”
“So what did you find in the buggy?” He eyed the hamper with interest. “Any food?”
“Hungry, are you?” She grinned as she folded the blanket into a smaller square. Then she set it down on top of the hamper and bucket, taking care to not let it touch the dirty floor.
“Not starving,” he answered. “But I wouldn’t turn down a bite to eat.” He gave her a challenging smile. “Not that I’m worried we’ll starve. There’s always that honey you have there.”
“Bite your tongue—that’s for Cora Beth.” She doffed the hat he’d loaned her and bumped it against her skirts to shake some of the water off. “Besides, I don’t think it’ll come to that.” She removed the coat and gave it the same treatment. No point trailing water all through the place—all this dirt and dust would turn into a muddy mess. “The hamper has all of the stuff Cora Beth helped Viola pack for the folks at the ranch. I think they’ll forgive us if we help ourselves.” She tried to jab a few stray hairpins more securely on her head. “I know it’s nothing fancy but we can always pretend we’re on a picnic.”
“Picnic fare sounds good. Given the situation, I’d say we’re lucky to have it.”
“I’d say, rather, that the Good Lord was looking out for us.” She opened the sack and began digging around. “As far as other supplies, I found an old picnic blanket under the wagon seat, and I also have this sack of honey-gathering tools, including—” she straightened “this flint.”
His eyes lit up at that. “Good. Because as far as I can tell the chimney is clear, and I think the first order of business should be to get a fire started so we can try to dry out.”
“I agree.” She looked around as she crossed the room. “And there certainly seems to be a lot of material laying around that we can use for firewood. That old stool and those rickety benches both seem to be fit for nothing else. And the shutter on that window is already hanging by one rusty hinge.”
He nodded, only glancing up briefly before resuming his work at the fireplace. “There’s a few pieces of actual firewood the last squatters left behind in the hearth. But we could really use some kindling. If you see any twigs or other bits of debris that would serve the purpose gather them up.”
She took in the layers of dirt and debris surrounding them and wrinkled her nose. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”
Once he took the flint from her, she hung his hat and coat on two of the half dozen nails jutting from the mantel. The garments would fare much better there than on any of the dusty surfaces the cabin had to offer.
In short order she had collected a goodly number of twigs, pecan husks and other flammable-looking bits and carried them to the hearth.
She tamped down the urge to offer to lend a hand as she watched him arrange the kindling and bits of wood. Instead, she stood and surveyed the cabin. “If we’re going to be stuck here for a while, we might as well try to make it more comfortable. I don’t suppose you saw a broom anywhere?”
He glanced up with a surprised expression, then shrugged. “Afraid not.” He looked at the floor with a grimace. “Too bad.”
“Then I’ll just have to improvise. A leafy branch or bit of brush will work just about as well—bound to be lots of those handy. If you’ll loan me your pocketknife I’ll see what I can find.”
He paused and frowned up at her. “You’re not going back out in that storm.”
His commanding tone took her aback, but she kept her own tone light. “Don’t worry. I figure with the way things are grown up around here, there’ll be something right out the back door.”
“Distance won’t matter in this downpour. You’ll be soaked as soon as you step outside.”
So he was worried about her. Why did everyone think she couldn’t fend for herself? She spread her arms. “Can’t get much wetter than I already am. And you’ll have that fire going soon so I can dry out when I get back.” She shrugged and added a touch of firmness to her voice. “Besides, I’ve got to do something to keep busy.”
He gave her a long, considering look, then apparently decided to let it go. “At least put the hat and coat back on.”
“Of course.”
It took some time, and quite a bit of shoving to get the back door opened, but when she looked at the rain-shrouded grounds behind the cabin Sadie gave a little crow of pleasure.
“What is it?”
She smiled over her shoulder. “I’ve found a real treasure back here. There’s a whole tangle of dewberry vines growing right up against the wall, and they’re ripe for the picking.”
He sat up straighter. “Need some help?”
“No, I can get them. Besides, you have your hands full getting that fire going and I plan to take full advantage of it when I get done.”
Sadie snaked a hand toward the nearest vine. “I love dewberries.” She plucked two of the plump berries and popped them one after the other into her mouth. Savoring the way the juice exploded between her teeth, she scanned the overgrown patch of ground, trying to spy a likely bit of brush to use as her makeshift broom. No point heading into the weather until she had her quarry in sight.
There! That one should work. She sprinted out into the rain and made quick work of breaking off the targeted bit of brush. In the process she caught sight of a stout stick on the ground. Scooping it up, she headed back to the house. Leaning her brush-broom against the inside wall, she shook out her skirts, then reached back to pluck a few more berries.
Crossing the room with her two offerings, she smiled at the sight of the crackling flames. “Oh good, you’ve got the fire going.”
“The chimney is clear enough to draw the smoke, thank goodness.”
She held out the stout branch. “Look what I found. I thought you might be able to use it as a walking stick.”
The relief and approval on his face sent an answering warmth through her.
“Thanks.” He took the stick and used it to leverage himself up. Placing his weight on it, he took a couple of hobbling steps to test it out. “Perfect.”
“Good. Now here, try some of these.”
He stared at the berries she held out but didn’t make a move to take them. “You picked them, you eat them.”
She waved away his concern. “Oh, don’t be silly—I’ve already had a handful.” From the look on his face she reckoned he didn’t get called silly often. “There are lots more on those vines. This is just a little snack to keep our strength up. I plan to pick a whole passel more once I’ve gotten some of the cleanup done.” She raised her hand a bit closer to his face and slid the berries back and forth under his nose.
After rolling his eyes, he took half of the berries and popped one into his mouth. “Delicious.”
“Nothing like berries fresh from the vine. Here take the rest so I can get to work.” She held up her other hand, palm out.
With a nod and a thank you, he accepted the rest of her offering.
That was better. The man just needed someone to stand up to him occasionally. And this afternoon was as good a time as any.

Chapter Six
Eli watched Sadie energetically swish her rustic but surprisingly effective broom across the floor, chafing at the fact that he couldn’t be of more help. Thank goodness she’d found the walking stick for him, at least he could get around a little better now. Even though his foot throbbed enough to make his teeth ache, the renewed mobility made him feel a little more in control of the situation.
While she swept and cleaned he hobbled around, determined to do what he could. He shoved the heavier bits out of her way, gathered up whatever scraps of wood he could find to stack by the fireplace and tossed some of the rest of the junk in a far corner. The woodpile grew surprisingly large and while he hoped they wouldn’t be here long enough to need it all, his gut told him that there was a good chance they would be.
Not that he had any intention of letting Miss Lassiter see his concern. He wasn’t sure how she would feel about being trapped out here for an extended period and he didn’t relish the idea of having a hysterical female on his hands on top of everything else.
As the minutes ticked away, however, her energy and continued positive attitude surprised him. He hadn’t noticed her being this industrious back at the boardinghouse. Her fervor with the broom coupled with the sodden, muddy hem of her skirt and damp, disheveled hair should have given her the appearance of a scullery maid.
But somehow it didn’t.
He wasn’t sure if it was the cheery smile she wore, or her soft humming as she worked or something that went deeper, but she looked both softer and more competent than before.
She kicked up enough dust with her efforts to set them both to sneezing, but she maintained her good humor, treating it more as a game than a chore. In short order she had the area in front of the hearth as clean as she could make it given the tools on hand.
Finally setting aside her broom, she fetched the blanket and spread it in front of the fireplace. “There now, why don’t you sit and rest that foot of yours?”
That did sound good. “Ladies first.”
Rather than showing appreciation for his manners, she looked exasperated. “Oh for goodness sake, this isn’t Cora Beth’s parlor. Given the situation, I think we can put those sort of niceties aside.”
He clenched his jaw. Didn’t she realize that, “given the situation,” they should make every effort to maintain whatever decorum they could? “Good manners are always in order, no matter the circumstances.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “You know what I mean. You’re hurt and I’ve got berries to collect. Now, do you need help getting situated before I head back out?”
Her question set his teeth on edge. He wasn’t entirely helpless. “I’ll manage.”
She studied him uncertainly. “Your foot—”
“Is better off inside my boot where the pressure will keep the swelling down.”
“But what if it’s a break?”
“It’s not.” And even if it was, there was nothing she could do about it.
She nodded, then looked around. “Now, what can I put the berries in?”
“Are you sure you want to do that now? The rain hasn’t slacked off yet.”
She shrugged and gave him a playful smile. “I’d rather be wet than hungry.”
He started to point out that they had other things to eat, but then decided there was no point. Her mind seemed to be made up. “In that case I think the hamper is probably our best bet.”
“Of course.” She knelt and quickly emptied the contents. Reaching for the hat and coat, she nodded toward the blanket. “Set yourself down and I’ll be back in no time.”
“I’m coming with you.”
She paused with one arm in a coat sleeve and one not. “I can handle this. You should get off that foot—”
He ignored her protest. “It doesn’t take legs to pick berries. And, since I’ll be sharing in the fruits, literally, I should also share in the labor.” He grabbed up the hamper, tightened his grip on his cane and headed for the door. She could follow or not as she liked.
A heartbeat later he heard her scurrying to catch up. “You are one of the stubbornest men I’ve ever come across. And if you’d met my brothers you’d know that was saying something.” She flounced past him, pushed the door open, then turned back to face him. “You stand here with the hamper and I’ll pick the berries.” Before he could argue she held up a hand. “You’re almost dry so no point in getting yourself soaked again. Besides, if you insist on going out there I’ll feel obliged to give you back your coat and hat and how gentlemanly of you would that be?”
Speak of stubborn! He stared at the downpour. “Perhaps we should just wait to see if this lets up soon.”
“It’s not coming down quite as hard as it was earlier. And what if it doesn’t stop? I’d just as soon get to it while I’m still wet. Once I get dry I’m not going to be quite so eager to step outside again.”
He supposed that made sense. But the woman was never going to dry out at this rate.
Without waiting for his response, she drew the collar of his jacket up higher and stepped out into the storm.
Several minutes later, as she dumped yet another handful of berries in the hamper, he took her wrist and drew her out of the rain. “Time to come back inside. We have plenty enough to hold us for a while.”
As if not quite trusting him, she peered into the hamper. “I suppose that’ll do for now.”
Eli turned, glad that he could finally get off his feet. He hadn’t taken more than two steps, though, when he realized she’d stepped back out in the rain. What was she up to now?
Ignoring the throbbing in his foot, he set the hamper on the floor and limped back toward the door. “Miss Lassiter?”
“I’ll be there in a minute.” Her voice was muffled but he could tell she hadn’t gone far.
It was several long minutes later before she reappeared inside the doorway. Not surprisingly, she wasn’t empty-handed.
“Look what I found,” she said nodding to the four large pieces of firewood and two stout sticks in her arms. “There’s a chopping block out back. There’s more but the other pieces hadn’t been split yet and they were too heavy to carry. Anyway, I thought these might come in handy for the fire.”
Hadn’t she seen the small pile he’d stacked by the fireplace? Or, like him, was she worried about how long they’d be stranded here? “It was a good thought, but these pieces are soaking wet.”
“I know, but if we place the pieces just inside the fireplace around the fire, they’ll dry out faster. Then if we get down to where we need them, we’ll have a better shot at getting them to burn.”
While she crossed the room with her burden, he followed more slowly with the hamper. The woman had a sensible head on her shoulders after all, it seemed. Had he been wrong about her in other ways?
Once she’d arranged the damp wood to her satisfaction, Miss Lassiter stood and rolled her shoulders. Then she shed the garments he’d loaned her and hung them back on the make-do coat pegs.
“Thanks for the use of your hat and coat.” She studied them with a wince. “I’m afraid they’re showing signs of what I put them through.”
He shrugged. “They can be replaced.”
She made no move to approach the blanket and her face wore a slightly embarrassed look. Surely she wasn’t worried that he would—
“I’ve got water in my shoes,” she blurted out. “I was thinking I’d take them and my stockings off and set them by the fire to dry. If it won’t offend you, that is.”
Was that all? “Of course.”
She nodded and hesitated. Realizing her dilemma, he busied himself with studying the items she’d pulled from the hamper earlier, keeping his gaze averted to allow her what privacy he could while she removed her footgear.
A few moments later she carefully arranged her shoes and stockings on the uneven hearth.
“Ready to eat?” Wanting to put her at ease, he kept his tone conversational.
She nodded. “As soon as we give thanks.”
Give thanks? She saw something in this situation to be thankful for? But he supposed keeping to normal rituals in such an otherwise unusual situation gave her comfort and perhaps some sense of normalcy. So he would go along with her request. And since she seemed to be waiting for him to lead the blessing, he dutifully bowed his head. “For the food we have before us, Lord, we give You thanks and ask that You continue to bless our respective families and our endeavors. Amen.”
Miss Lassiter echoed his “Amen”, then nodded toward the cluster of food items. “I’ll take one of those pears if you don’t mind.”
He nodded and reached for the fruit. To his surprise, she remained standing as he handed it up to her. What now?
As she accepted the pear from him, he noticed the red marks on her wrist and frowned. “What happened?”
She followed the direction of his gaze, then gave a sheepish smile. “I got a little careless. Dewberry vines have lots of nasty little thorns and I tangled with a few when reaching for the plumper berries.” Before he could offer sympathy, she shrugged. “Don’t worry, though, I’ve gotten much worse on other berry-picking expeditions.”
She took a bite out of the pear, and his gaze was captured by a little dribble of juice that found its way to her chin. He couldn’t seem to look away, until she used her sleeve to wipe it away.
Giving his head a mental shake, he turned his focus to the food, grabbing the jug of apple cider to moisten his unaccountably dry throat.
Miss Lassiter appeared not to have noticed anything out of the ordinary. She was staring at one of the windows, her head cocked to the side. “Sounds like the rain’s coming down even harder now. Good thing we picked those berries when we did. We may be in for a long afternoon.”
Eli merely nodded. No point in adding to her worries. Fact was, even if the rain stopped in the next few minutes, he had no idea how in the world they were going to get around that fallen tree. His only hope right now was that they’d be missed before long and someone would be out looking for them.
“Did you tell Danny you were planning to come out here?” He kept his tone casual.
“Not specifically. It was supposed to be a surprise.”
So much for that idea. No one would know where to look even if they realized the two of them were missing. Miss Lassiter had definitely not thought things through this morning.
“You might as well sit,” he said. “There’s plenty of room here.”
She shook her head. “My skirts are soaked.” She wrinkled her nose. “Sitting would be uncomfortable right now. I thought I’d stand in front of the fire for just a bit to try to speed the drying process.”
Which was sensible but it put him in the position of lounging on the floor while she remained standing. He wasn’t doing very well in the gentleman department.
They ate in silence for a while, Eli trying hard not to stare at her bare feet and trim ankles peeking out from the hem of her skirt.
An explosive sneeze, quickly followed by a second, jerked his gaze up to her face. “Are you okay?” Had she caught a chill?
But she dismissed his worries. “I’m fine. I think it’s just all the dust we kicked up when we were cleaning earlier.”
Eli grabbed the jug of cider. “Would you care for some of this?”
She nodded and set the core of the pear in the fireplace. Wiping her hands on her gown with the indifference of a child, she took the proffered cider.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to drink straight from the jug—I didn’t see any drinking glasses.”
The caveat didn’t seem to bother her. “I’ll manage.”
As Miss Lassiter drank, Eli studied her closely for other signs that she might be taking ill, but she seemed remarkably robust.
After a couple of deep swallows, she absently handed the jug back to him while she studied the room. “I wonder what kind of history this place has. I mean, I know it’s not much to look at today, but now that we’ve cleaned it up a bit, I can picture how it might have looked back when it was new. It would have made a cozy little home for some farmer and his wife.”
Eli looked around skeptically. Even though it was mid-afternoon, the dark-lidded sky and semi-shuttered windows left the one room cabin in shadow except for the area here by the fireplace. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t picture this place as anything but a hovel.
“Whatever its history, apparently it didn’t suit,” he said diplomatically. “It appears to have been abandoned for some time.”
“Yes, but aren’t you at all curious about why? Maybe there was some great tragedy, where the farmer or his wife died and the one left behind could no longer bear to be here. Or maybe they headed farther west looking for adventure. Or maybe the farmer who lived here married a woman who preferred life in a big city.” She had a faraway, dreamy look. “There are so many stories a place like this could tell.”
What in the world was she going on about? “Speculating over such things seems like a pointless exercise.”
She studied him as if he had somehow disappointed her. “Don’t you like imagining things? I mean, don’t you ever do things like make up stories to tell Penny?”
He shifted, feeling her opinion of him had just dropped a few points. “I read to her from time to time.” It was hard to keep the defensiveness from his tone.
“Not quite the same, but it’s a start.”
A start? A start on what?
She bent down and scooped up some of the berries. “I think my back is dry enough.” She fanned her skirt out with her free hand. “Time to dry the front.” And with that she turned to face the fire.
Eli placed his palms behind him on the blanket and leaned back as he studied her back. She was definitely a puzzle to him. How could a woman be so sensible one moment and so fanciful the next? And why was Penny so taken with her? His half sister had been so quiet and withdrawn since the tragedy. But around Miss Lassiter she seemed more lighthearted than she had since he’d assumed guardianship.
Truth be known, while he’d hoped it was just a matter of giving Penny time to grieve, he’d worried that she’d been permanently scarred by everything that had happened. Yet she seemed to really come alive around Miss Lassiter. And while he was relieved to see the old Penny come back, he couldn’t help but be curious as to the reason.
He studied the coiled tendrils that had escaped his companion’s pins, listened to her soft humming as she held her skirt out to the fire. And wondered again if perhaps he’d misjudged her.

Sadie studied the flames as she absently munched on the berries. How very sad and lonely to live without the occasional daydream, without letting the imagination have reign from time to time. Had he always been that way? Or had something in his life hardened him? Maybe he just needed someone to teach him how.
For Penny’s sake, of course.
She wiped her hands together as she finished the berries. Her skirts were still damp, but they were dry enough to sit now.

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