Mail Order Cowboy (Love Inspired Historical) by Laurie Kingery

up.”
    He blinked at her. “That foreigner? What does he know about ranchin’? Beggin’ yer pardon, Miss Milly, but have you been spendin’ too much time in the sun without your bonnet? And that scheme of yours of invitin’ men here t’marry is just plumb foolishness. Your pa would want me to tell you that, too!”
    Temper flaring, Milly went rigid. “Mr. Waters, the way you’re talking, I’m not sure you ever really knew my father after all. My pa always encouraged me to pray about a problem, then use my brain to solve it.”
    â€œAnd this is the solution your brain cooked up?” he said, pointing an accusing finger at Nick, who hadjust come out onto the porch. “Bringing an outsider—a foreigner —to Simpson Creek?”
    Nick crossed the yard in a few quick strides. From where he had been, Milly knew he could not have heard Bill Waters’s words, but he’d seen the finger pointed at him, for he asked quietly, “Is there a problem, Miss Matthews?”
    She could have kissed him for coming to her side just then. “No, Mr. Waters was just fretting about his need to leave and go take care of his own ranch. But I assured him we’d be fine, with you to help us.”
    She saw Waters try to stare Nick down, but Nick returned his gaze calmly. “I’m sure Miss Matthews appreciates your concern,” he said. “And I assure you I’ll do everything in my power to ensure her safety and that of her sister.” He offered his hand, which Waters pretended not to see.
    â€œI’ll count on that, Brookfield,” he growled. “Good day, Miss Milly,” he called over his shoulder as he stalked off to his waiting horse.
    Bill Waters is nothing but a patronizing hypocrite, trying to hide his greed under a cloak of concern! thought Milly.
    â€œWhat did he say to you? You’re shaking,” Nick observed, still keeping his voice low as Waters led the way out of the yard.
    Milly was still stinging at Waters’s condescending words, but she didn’t want to repeat what the old rancher had said about Nick. Just then, she was saved from the necessity of talking about it by the arrival of the circuit preacher’s buggy rolling into the barnyard.
    â€œReverend Chadwick, how nice of you to visit,”she called, reaching the buggy just as the silver-haired preacher set the brake and stepped out of his buggy.
    â€œMiss Milly, I was in Richland Springs. I was so upset to arrive back in town this morning and hear what had happened to you,” he said, embracing her, then staring with dismay at the blackened ruin of the barn. “I came straight here. I didn’t stop any longer than it took to water the horses,” he said.
    â€œReverend Chadwick, a circuit rider can’t be everywhere at once. We certainly understand that,” Milly protested.
    â€œAnd how is Josh?”
    She told the preacher about their foreman’s injuries. “I’m sure he’d be pleased to see you,” she said. “Come inside. But before you do, Reverend, I’d like you to meet Mr. Nicholas Brookfield, who’ll be helping us out here while Josh recovers.”

Chapter Six
    A fter introductions were made, Milly mercifully excused Nick and sent him to get some sleep. He’d thought at first he’d never be able to fall into slumber on the thin ticking-covered straw mattress in the middle of the hot Texas day.
    The next thing he knew, though, the creaking of the door opening woke him as Bobby clumped into the room and started rummaging in the crate at the foot of his bed.
    â€œOh, sorry, didn’t mean t’wake you, sir,” the youth apologized, straightening.
    â€œNo need to apologize,” he told the youth. “I never meant to sleep so long. And you’d probably better start calling me Nick, too,” he told the boy.
    Bobby looked gratified but still a little uneasy. “How