Читать книгу The Lone Cowboy of River Bend - Lori Connelly - Страница 9

Enough light streamed through cracks on the far wall and the open door that she didn’t bother with a lantern. She stopped by a stall that put almost the length of the barn between the gelding and the mare. After Nate nodded his approval, she showed him where to hang his tack and get clean straw for bedding. While he set to work making Jack comfortable, she fetched the horse a bucket of water, some grain, and hay.

Nate thanked her for the meager offerings. Still intensely aware of her companion, however, Hannah noted his first reaction was a critical tightening of his lips. Certain the poor animal deserved more, she felt bad but there was no help for it. They had limited feed.

Hannah worried for a moment he’d ask about having more and she’d have to explain, but Nate didn’t say a word, carrying on with his task in silence. Relieved, she stepped over to stand near the open doorway while he finished. Her gaze wandered over the interior to the yard outside as she waited. Neglect was clear in every direction. She could only imagine how it might appear to fresh eyes. The man had to see how run-down the place was and that there was a shortage of many animals besides horses.

Tears welled up, threatening to spill. It wasn’t all Jed’s fault. The farm had sat abandoned for years before he and Bessie bought it. Hannah couldn’t honestly say she’d seen any potential in it. She glanced back at Nate, finding him still brushing his horse. According to Alice, the Rolfes’ ranch covered over three hundred acres. The meager forty of Redwing Farm, a vast stretch of land to her friends, probably seemed insignificant to him.

A burst of cold air moved over Hannah. For a second, she could’ve sworn it carried the sweet scent of lilacs, even though it was the wrong season for Bessie’s favorite flower. She turned her attention outside. Ramshackle buildings dotted the area, the chicken coop, sheds, house, a second small barn, and the lean-to against this barn where hired help would’ve slept, sadly looking much the same as the first time she’d seen them. The memory of her friend’s excitement as she’d shown her around the farm then, pulling her from one falling-down structure to another, bursting with plans, filled her mind. She closed her eyes, trying to shut out reality.

“Done.”

Did the man ever say more than a word or two at a time?

Hannah opened her eyes and turned to face Nate. “Are you hungry?”

“A little.”

“Why don’t you come up to the house?” She stepped out of the barn. “I’ll fix you something.”

“I can wait.” Nate pushed the door shut.

“If you do, Alice will wonder at my manners.”

“I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”

His full sentence tempted her to smile. “It’s no trouble.”

“But-”

“Alice and the children will be here soon.” Hannah headed off toward the house without giving him the chance to respond.

Undecided, Nate remained near the barn a moment, then, with a shake of his head, he followed her. He would’ve preferred to wait for Alice outside. Although intrigued by Hannah, she made him uncomfortable. Besides, he wanted a look around. Jed had to be here somewhere and he wanted to see what exactly was causing the man’s bad day. Unwilling to be rude, he disregarded those inclinations and kept walking.

His gaze swept the area while he crossed the yard. Boards were missing from the corral. The chicken coop showed a number of clumsy repairs. A closer look at the house as Nate approached it revealed a porch on the verge of collapse. Evidence of decay was everywhere.

How many bad days has Jed had?

Nate caught up with Hannah as she opened the door. While an answer to the question dominating his thoughts would be nice, he didn’t ask her about Alice’s son again. The young woman reminded him of a nervous horse, visibly wary, although he doubted she’d care for his comparison. Patience was in order. Thankfully, he developed that virtue working with wild mustangs.

Inside the small home, Hannah stopped a step from the door and removed her coat. She hung it on a peg on the wall. With a silent gesture, she invited Nate to do the same before unwinding an old, faded shawl from her shoulders.

Hannah’s easy grace was a pleasure to behold. He couldn’t help watching subtly as she removed bulky clothing, revealing the soft swell of her chest and generous curves of her hips. His gaze lingered on her form, clad in a plain, brown work dress, several seconds before moving up to focus on hair the rich red of autumn leaves. It’d been a while since he’d taken the time to enjoy the beauty of a woman and he found himself on the verge of being rude.

Nate shifted his gaze, staring at the wall while shrugging off his duster, but couldn’t resist another glance at her after hanging it up. This time Hannah caught him, their gazes collided as she draped her shawl on top of her coat. She tilted her head to one side, puzzlement filling eyes the shade of the chocolate candy Alice made at Christmas. A blush bloomed over her cheeks, charming him. He couldn’t look away.

“Excuse me,” she whispered, turning her back to him, then walking away.

His ill manners sank in. He knew how uncomfortable being gawked at felt. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Hannah called over her shoulder, her tone polite but a little cool as she crossed the room. “Please, have a seat at the table.”

Believing further apologies would make matters worse, Nate moved to do what she’d asked without offering another. He looked around the space while heading for the decent-sized, rough-hewn table with six chairs sitting in the center. Along the wall to his right there were three doors and on the opposite one some shelves, hanging pots, a cupboard, and a small cook stove. Motion caught his eye. Hannah stood near the fireplace, in the middle of the wall directly across from the door. Within it, he noticed a pitiful pile of half-burnt sticks on top of dying coals, which explained why the air inside wasn’t much warmer than outside.

Nate eased his frame onto one of the rickety wooden chairs, still watching his companion. From a small stack of fir rounds, Hannah added one onto the pile with careful precision. The sway of her skirt drew his attention as she bent over, blowing on the coals. The fire grew, showing off crackling flames after a few minutes of coaxing.

Hannah straightened and he brought his gaze up as she turned to face him. “Would stew be all right?”

Be charming. Put her at ease. Think of something Rowdy might say. “Yes.” Feeble, Nathaniel. Try again. Use more than one word. “It would.”

“Good.” Although her tone remained polite, there was a hint of amusement in her short answer.

Not charming but, maybe, entertaining.

Never good with small talk, Nate chose to remain silent as she walked over to the cupboard. Hannah reached up, took a spoon and bowl out, then pulled a ladle off a nail on the wall. She turned and, from a pot left warming on the black metal stove, scooped him up a portion. Given the cozy size of the room, it took the woman only a couple of steps to reach his side, placing the meal before him a moment later.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes.” Eagerness seeped through his voice. Nate hadn’t bothered with a campfire in the morning and was craving the bitter brew. “Please.”

Wordlessly, Hannah returned to the stove. She took two cups off a shelf and filled them both from a coffee pot beside the stew pan. As she walked back, Nate glanced down at the contents of the bowl. He dipped his spoon in and stirred, inhaling the fragrant scent of herbs. Thick with vegetables but no sign of meat, the sight was consistent with serious financial troubles.

After setting a cup down by his bowl, Hannah sat at the other side of the table, directly across from him. “Aren’t you going to have some?”

“I’ll wait for Alice and the children.”

“Then I’ll wait too.”

“No need.” Hannah shook her head. “You can have a second helping with them.”

“But-”

“There’s plenty. Please.”

“But I-”

“I insist.”

“Okay,” Nate agreed, unwilling to offend her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Hannah sipped her coffee while he ate. For the next several minutes there was no pressure to converse. The silence between them felt almost comfortable. By the time he finished, Nate had relaxed a little.

“It was very good.”

“Thank you.” Hannah rose to her feet then picked up his bowl, taking it over to the worktop of the cupboard. His eyes followed the gentle movement of her hips as she walked away. Near the stove, she waved toward the coffee pot. “Want more?”

Nate promptly lifted his gaze. “Please.”

As she folded a cloth around the pot’s handle Nate became conscious he was staring at her. He shifted in his seat and looked over at the fire. The flames barely licked the wood. It was still a bit chilly inside.

Should I offer to build it up? The soft falls of her boots on the worn wood floor announced Hannah approaching. Nate almost spoke, then hesitated. If it’s small to conserve wood, offering may embarrass her. A second later, she stood beside him, filling his cup, the sleeve of her dress brushing against the skin of his wrist and the back of his hand.

Heat whispered through his veins. Hannah smelled sweetly of fresh air and flowers. He breathed in, leaning ever so slightly closer. Roses, she smelled like roses. The scent was a favorite of Nate’s. He nurtured several blooming plants on the south side of his cabin, grown from cuts of his mother’s garden.

Hannah moved away. Feeling the absence of her warmth, Nate wrapped his hand around the mug, welcoming the burning heat the fresh brew brought. The pretty woman intrigued him. Pursuing her was a tempting thought. Seconds later, he dismissed the idea.

It’d be pointless. Nate squeezed the mug tighter and raised it off the table, staring down at the steaming liquid. He had to keep this attraction under control. She wasn’t a woman who’d welcome a casual flirtation and attempting anything more serious would be foolish. In his experience, women didn’t care for the isolated way of life he loved.

Nate took a long drink of his coffee as Hannah reclaimed her seat. Her lips curved in a shy smile, causing his heart to beat a fraction faster. Despite knowing it wasn’t wise, he found himself offering her a brief grin in return.

Although he sensed Hannah had a lot on her mind, she didn’t break the silence. The quiet between them didn’t seem to bother her. In Nate’s opinion, it was a rare and attractive trait. Few people he knew resisted making casual conversation. Enjoying her company, he sipped his coffee over the next several minutes.

A noise from another room broke the pleasant mood. Nate put his cup down as he looked in the sound’s direction. He’d thought they were alone. Silence followed. He turned his attention back to Hannah a moment later. A shadow flickered in her lovely eyes then her gaze skittered off, away from his.

“Who’s here?” he asked gently.

Hannah shook her head, glancing at a door on the far wall.

A closer look revealed the one she was staring at was now slightly ajar. Jed perhaps?

Without thinking, Nate stood up and went to investigate. He heard her whispered plea to stop but didn’t heed it. A step from the door, as he reached for the knob, a soft hand gripped his arm with surprising strength and stopped him. He turned to study Hannah for a second, then drawn by an unexplainable force he leaned forward, peering into the room through the opening.

At first, Nate only saw darkness, then his vision adjusted to the low light. His gaze swept the room, catching movement by a small covered window. There was a lone figure, slowly rocking in a chair. The sight disturbed him and heeding Hannah’s tugs on his arm, he turned away.

Her displeasure was clear, full lips pressed thin together instead of curving in a smile. A part of him wanted to stomp into the room behind him and confront the man sitting in there. From her expression, however, he doubted she’d welcome that action.

“Jed?”

Hannah shook her head. She dropped her hold and moved away, returning to her chair. Nate waited a moment, watching her. She picked up her cup and stared down at the contents, turning it slowly around in her hands.

“That’s not Jed?” He kept his tone even, not allowing even a hint of his disbelief.

Hannah’s sigh floated across the room. “It is.”

“But you don’t want me talking to him?”

“As I said, it’d be better if you spoke to Alice first.”

“Why?” He demanded with quiet intensity. Something was very wrong with the other man. The feeling, growing within him for some time, now settled in his gut with certainty. “I’ve known Jed most of my life.”

“I know. Alice told me she started working for your folks when Jed was small, soon after losing her husband. But he’s not the same anymore. He’s…”

“Drunk?”

A sick feeling rose in her stomach. Is it so obvious?

The bleakness of the situation weighed heavy on her. While she struggled for words, Hannah looked over at the door Jed used to shut out the world. In less than a minute, she knew there was no nice way to present the truth.

“It’s likely.”

“Then I should definitely speak to him.”

“It’s not that simple,” she muttered under her breath, resentment crashing over her.

Jed wasn’t the only one who mourned Bessie, yet he behaved as though his pain was all that mattered. The rest of them had to grieve while continuing to handle the daily tasks necessary in life. They had an extra burden now, taking care of him. Her sympathy for the man was in short supply.

“Why isn’t it?”

Her cheeks heated when Hannah realized she’d spoken loud enough for him to hear. She shifted her gaze to meet his. “I… just feel you should talk to Alice first.”

“But won’t explain why?”

“Please.”

“I think-”

The sound of high-pitched voices pierced the thin walls, interrupting Nate. Hannah stood, smiling with relief. There was no need to debate further. She headed across the room.

“They’re back.”

As Nate watched Hannah walk away from him, the front door burst open. One minute the small home was almost dead quiet and the next energy flowed through it. A little girl, followed by two young boys carrying homemade fishing poles made of long sticks and string hurried through the door. Their presence soon filled the space as only children can, with eagerness, excitement, and the joy of simply being alive.

Nate felt a sudden and unexpected longing for his family. Normally he spent long stretches of time alone and knowing his loved ones were nearby, within a day’s ride should the urge to visit overtake him, pleased him. Now it was different. His parents, sister, and Alice were all away from the Bar 7. Ben and his brothers remained on the family ranch but all had been busy with their own concerns. He worried his close-knit family was drifting apart.

“Mama, look.” The little girl ran up to Hannah waving a large pinecone.

Disappointment shot through Nate while Hannah admired her daughter’s prize. It wasn’t logical but a part of him wanted to pursue her. He should’ve known she was married. The men around here would have to be blind not to notice her.

Hannah smoothed back the little girl’s hair, drawing his gaze to her hand. She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Although some couples couldn’t afford rings, another option intrigued him. She could be a widow, young to be so, but possible. He shouldn’t care. Even so, the thought lightened his mood.

Footsteps sounded on the porch. Nate looked over in time to see Alice appear in the doorway. The older woman was a welcome sight. Pleased she was finally here, he smiled. As she stepped inside and shut the door, he closed the distance between them.

“Nathaniel.” Alice smiled her delight, then enveloped him in a hug. “However did Sam convince you to come in his place?”

“I was helping Matt near here.”

“More rustling?”

“Yes, but right now,” Nate kept his voice low as he eased out of her embrace so it wouldn’t carry to where the children had gathered near Hannah, “I’m more concerned about you.”

“I’m fine.”

Nate studied the woman a moment. Although Alice was years older than his mother, it had never been readily apparent until now. New wrinkles lined her face. Dark circles smudged her eyes, giving her a bruised look. Since he’d last seen her, she seemed to have aged years instead of months.

“I don’t believe so. Things are rough here, aren’t they?”

“I am fine.” Her expression turned somber. “As much as I can be.” She nodded toward the little ones. “We’ll talk after they’re in bed.”

“That won’t be for hours.”

“Is there someplace you need to be?”

“Well, I came to bring you home,” he stated in a matter-of- fact tone.

Alice raised an eyebrow. “Did you plan on leaving now?”

“I figured you’d be ready to go.”

“I’m not, but if I was, you really want to leave this late in the day?”

“Yes, but an early start tomorrow would make better sense.”

“Exactly, so make yourself comfortable.”

“Couldn’t we step outside?” He all but whispered, noticing the children were quiet, likely listening.

Alice shook her head. “Little pitchers have big ears.”

“But-”

“It’ll keep, Nathaniel, trust me.”

Her words were gentle but Alice gave him a look Nate had become familiar with growing up. Nothing would change her mind. She gestured with one hand toward the table, calling to the boys. Long experience told him arguing with her was like talking to a fence post, pointless, so he gave up.

“Who are you?” The oldest boy, who couldn’t be more than seven, stepped in front of him while his brother went straight to Alice.

The stubborn angle of his jaw, dark-blond hair and bright- blue eyes proclaimed him as Jed’s son. The anxiety and bravado in his tone stirred empathy. This child felt threatened, regarding him with clear suspicion.

“I’m Nate.” He sank down, crouching before the boy. “Do you remember me?”

“No.”

Alice started to chide the boy for his rudeness but Nate glanced up at her, asking silently for her to let him handle the matter. To his surprise, she did. The woman resumed peeling off the other boy’s jacket without another word.

“It’s been a long time, Jason.”

“How do you know my name?” The child’s tone was only a shade more polite.

“Your grandmother became our housekeeper when I was about your age. I grew up with your father.”

Jason’s expression became mulish. “Grandma ain’t never mentioned nobody named Nate.”

“Jason.” Alice spoke in a gentle tone as she moved beside them, placing her hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Ain’t never mentioned nobody?”

“You ain’t- You haven’t mentioned someone named Nate.” The boy corrected himself.

Alice squeezed his shoulder in approval. “I use his proper name; Nate is short for Nathaniel.”

Jason’s mouth dropped open. His eyes rounded, becoming saucers. “He’s Nathaniel?”

“In the flesh.”

“Oh.” The boy’s gaze found his, staring at the man in wonder. “You’re the-”

“Don’t say it,” Nate cautioned in a tone gentle but weary.