with ten pounds each of potatoes, sugar, and flour. While the owner, a man named Brown who’d lost the use of his arm in the war, gathered up everything, Annie added seeds for Mrs. Dixon’s garden next spring and two nightgowns for herself.
When Patrick said he’d done some carpentry work out at Mrs. Dixon’s place, Mr. Brown said he didn’t even know anyone lived out there, but now that he did he’d stop by when he made deliveries out that direction and check on her.
As they loaded up to leave, Mr. Brown followed Patrick out and asked, “I got a load of furniture that came in three weeks ago. Factory shipped it in parts. With this limp arm I can’t manage to handle it and hammer at the same time. Can’t sell it when all it looks like is a pile of firewood. Any chance you’d stay a few days and help me out?”
Patrick hesitated. He’d like to help, but two days’ more delay could cost them if, on a long shot, Solomon was following them.
“I could pay,” the owner added.
Patrick figured he had plenty of money and a job already waiting for him.
“How about I pay in chickens to the old lady? A crate every fall and spring for three years if you’ll work a full day.”
Patrick glanced at Annie.
She smiled, reading him easily. “All right. I know you want to. I’ll even help.”
An hour later their wagon was pulled behind the store and they were working. Annie might not be able to lift a man’s load, but she was a great help, and talking as they worked made the time fly. Before dark they’d completed all the furniture. Patrick, with his carving skills, carved the store name on a long board over the door. The owner offered them supper and breakfast and, of course, six crates of chickens as payment.
They ate, collapsed in their wagon bed, and slept until dawn. Just in time to eat again before they headed out.
As they moved on down the road, Annie said, “You know, Patrick McAllen, I think I’m falling in love with you.”
He winked. “It was bound to happen, wife. I always figured I’d be irresistible if I ever stayed around a girl long enough for her to discover it.”
That night, when she opened her nightgown just as she’d done the shirt for several nights, he smiled. “I’m afraid I may have started something. If we’re not careful this nightly thing we do could become a habit.”
“You’re no longer interested in touching me?”
He pulled her down in the wagon and covered them both with a blanket. “Wife, I promised I’d never lie to you. I’d have to be dead not to be interested in you. All I think about is what might happen after dark.”
She giggled, knowing that tonight they’d be giving up sleep while they got to know each other better.
“Can we take our time?” she whispered. “I want to remember everything about tonight.”
His hand slid over her hip. “I’ve many parts of your lovely body to explore if you’ll allow me, but you don’t have to remember everything. I’ll be happy to repeat each step.”
She cupped his face in her hands. “You make me feel beautiful.”
“You
are
beautiful, Annie. You always have been, just no one took the time to tell you.” Patrick whispered his first promise again. “I’ll never lie to you, remember.”
Chapter 6
Captain Gillian Matheson
M ARCH
Captain Gillian Matheson didn’t bother to sleep. He’d been out hunting outlaws for three months only to find trouble waiting for him at the fort. His wife had sent a letter saying he had to join her at a trading post run by Harmon Ely by the second week in March. No details. Just the place and time.
Hell. It was already the seventh of March. He’d have to ride hard and fast to be on time. He dug his fingers through black curly hair that was so dirty it looked brown.
She hadn’t said why, but Gillian knew it must be life or death. She’d never leave her family farm in Kansas otherwise. His wife, Daisy, was the most nesting woman he’d ever seen. He usually
When Patrick said he’d done some carpentry work out at Mrs. Dixon’s place, Mr. Brown said he didn’t even know anyone lived out there, but now that he did he’d stop by when he made deliveries out that direction and check on her.
As they loaded up to leave, Mr. Brown followed Patrick out and asked, “I got a load of furniture that came in three weeks ago. Factory shipped it in parts. With this limp arm I can’t manage to handle it and hammer at the same time. Can’t sell it when all it looks like is a pile of firewood. Any chance you’d stay a few days and help me out?”
Patrick hesitated. He’d like to help, but two days’ more delay could cost them if, on a long shot, Solomon was following them.
“I could pay,” the owner added.
Patrick figured he had plenty of money and a job already waiting for him.
“How about I pay in chickens to the old lady? A crate every fall and spring for three years if you’ll work a full day.”
Patrick glanced at Annie.
She smiled, reading him easily. “All right. I know you want to. I’ll even help.”
An hour later their wagon was pulled behind the store and they were working. Annie might not be able to lift a man’s load, but she was a great help, and talking as they worked made the time fly. Before dark they’d completed all the furniture. Patrick, with his carving skills, carved the store name on a long board over the door. The owner offered them supper and breakfast and, of course, six crates of chickens as payment.
They ate, collapsed in their wagon bed, and slept until dawn. Just in time to eat again before they headed out.
As they moved on down the road, Annie said, “You know, Patrick McAllen, I think I’m falling in love with you.”
He winked. “It was bound to happen, wife. I always figured I’d be irresistible if I ever stayed around a girl long enough for her to discover it.”
That night, when she opened her nightgown just as she’d done the shirt for several nights, he smiled. “I’m afraid I may have started something. If we’re not careful this nightly thing we do could become a habit.”
“You’re no longer interested in touching me?”
He pulled her down in the wagon and covered them both with a blanket. “Wife, I promised I’d never lie to you. I’d have to be dead not to be interested in you. All I think about is what might happen after dark.”
She giggled, knowing that tonight they’d be giving up sleep while they got to know each other better.
“Can we take our time?” she whispered. “I want to remember everything about tonight.”
His hand slid over her hip. “I’ve many parts of your lovely body to explore if you’ll allow me, but you don’t have to remember everything. I’ll be happy to repeat each step.”
She cupped his face in her hands. “You make me feel beautiful.”
“You
are
beautiful, Annie. You always have been, just no one took the time to tell you.” Patrick whispered his first promise again. “I’ll never lie to you, remember.”
Chapter 6
Captain Gillian Matheson
M ARCH
Captain Gillian Matheson didn’t bother to sleep. He’d been out hunting outlaws for three months only to find trouble waiting for him at the fort. His wife had sent a letter saying he had to join her at a trading post run by Harmon Ely by the second week in March. No details. Just the place and time.
Hell. It was already the seventh of March. He’d have to ride hard and fast to be on time. He dug his fingers through black curly hair that was so dirty it looked brown.
She hadn’t said why, but Gillian knew it must be life or death. She’d never leave her family farm in Kansas otherwise. His wife, Daisy, was the most nesting woman he’d ever seen. He usually
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