Silver Heart (Historical Western Romance) (Longren Family series #1) by Amelia Rose Page A

I'd seldom entertained. 
                  We were to be married.  Surely, it was –
                  A sudden sound from the sitting room, Matthew waking, startling himself with pain and calling out.  "Hutch?  A hand?"
                  We sprang apart like illicit lovers, staring at each other, each too flushed to go to the call and smiling slightly, sheepish and pleased.
                  "I should," he said, and gestured.
                  "You should," I agreed, and didn't move.
                  "Hutch? I can hear you," Matthew called from beyond the door.
                  I put a hand over my mouth, stifling an unladylike giggle.  Hutch kissed the hand in place of my mouth and whispered, "Don't go anywhere."
                  "Where would I go?" I asked and slid away from him, curving around his body and moving to the stove, looking for logs and matches and keeping my elbows clear of the metal rod used to pick up the burners, the one that had caught my arm the night before.
                  There would be bacon in the cold storage, and bread possibly, though probably I'd need to bake soon or find the baker in Gold Hill or Virginia City.
                  The dizzying conversation from the night before came back to me.  There was no money here, no more than there had been at my father's house in Boston.  Maybe I wouldn't be able to stay here.  Maybe he'd only asked me if I wanted to be set free of him and this place because he needed to, wanted out of the contract himself.
                  So I'd need to bake and start thinking about dinner, and find ways to economize.  I could do the washing and if the good neighbor who had been keeping house had been paid for her services, I could take over those services, learning somehow to keep a cleaner house than I'd ever even lived in.  I would do whatever necessary, if he'd let me stay, and I was thinking of dark hair and blue eyes. 
                  Hutch, of course.  I ran my hands up and down my arms, cold despite the heat.
                  Through the unlatched door, I heard Matthew's voice.  "Ask her."
                  Startled into motion, moving to start preparations for breakfast, and Hutch came back into the kitchen.  "Miss – " He stopped himself.  "Margaret, the trouble is awake.  May I impose on you – "
                  "Maggie," I said, laughing.  "The trouble.  It's a grand name.  Give me enough time to find my way 'round this kitchen and you'll both have breakfast."
                 
                  The Sheriff came not long after we'd eaten.  I was scowling at the remains of the eggs and potatoes when he arrived, thinking that economizing with two such appetites in the house would require my own extended fast.  Concerned with what stores there were, I didn't hear his horse come up the drive and jumped when footsteps crossed the porch. 
                  He knocked then called through the door, and I heard voices raised, the doors opening and closing, men's footsteps, and a hearty gale of laughter.  Matthew must be looking better, else the laughter was cold hearted.
                  I moved to the kitchen door and stood, holding a plate and drying it, waiting for more. 
                  "He's in the jail, Longren.  Will be there until this is sorted out."
                  "What's to sort out?  He shot my brother, in plain sight of the men at the mine."
                  "Who are loyal to you," the Sheriff's voice said.
                  "What's that supposed to mean?  That they'd lie for me?  A dying mine only buys limited loyalty.  Jason Seth shot Matthew."
                  Matthew himself was adding bits and pieces to the story, not particularly