paraphernalia needed to cook and serve a meal.
Anna shook out a tablecloth and let it float onto the scarred table. “If you can find two rods at the mercantile, I’ll make proper curtains tonight from my stash of fabric,” she said, setting a blue-striped crock in the center.
The errand would give Nate the perfect opening to ask questions. “I’ll head over there now.”
With a soft groan, Anna dropped into a ladder-back chair. The stray dog nudged Anna’s hand and got a perfunctory pat, then curled at Anna’s feet, head propped on her paws.
“You’ve overdone it. Now your hip’s bothering you.”
“I’ll rest a minute and be fine.” She glanced around her. “Once the curtains are made and up, this will look like home.”
He suspected Anna was making a home not only for herself but for him. “Don’t get too attached to the place. You’ll soon be moving behind the seamstress shop.”
“ If the judge should rule the shop is mine, I won’t displace Carly and her son. The boy just lost his father. I won’t let him lose the only home he’s probably known.”
“Anna,” he said, trying to make her see reason, “this cabin will sell with the livery. Where will you live then?”
As if he hadn’t spoken, Anna handed him a list, then flapped her hands, shooing him out like a pesky fly. “Please. Get those rods and the items I need.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, saluting her with a grin. “I’m at your service.”
Anna appeared mild-mannered, but she possessed a spine of steel. The reason she’d dealt well with her handicap, her incompetent husband and now his violent death.
“I’ll fix a nice supper. Get whatever looks good from the butcher. I intend to fatten you up.” She leaned down and patted the mutt. “You, too, Maizie.” Tail thumping against the floor, the dog raised her head, tongue lolling.
Anna probably hoped her home cooking would entice Nate to stay, as much as food enticed the stray. He had put on weight with her delicious meals. If he stayed, living a life of ease, he’d get soft. “Be back soon as I can.”
As Nate stepped onto the porch, Mrs. Richards and her son strolled toward him. The widow carried a pot, holding the handles with dishtowels, as if the metal was hot.
In three strides Nate reached her side. “Can I help with that?”
“Thank you, but I’ve got it.”
Henry beamed up at Nate. “You came back.”
“Yes, and brought my sister with me,” Nate said, unable to resist rubbing a palm over Henry’s cowlick. As soon as he removed his hand, the tuft sprang aloft.
Henry gazed up at his mother. “Is that the lady that’s going to help you sew?”
“Yes,” Carly said, her gaze darting to Nate, then away.
It didn’t take a mind reader to see her disquiet about relying on the woman who held the deed to her shop. That order she’d mentioned must be a whopper.
“I thought Anna might appreciate not having to cook.”
“Chicken and noodles,” Henry said.
“My favorite.” Nate inhaled. “Smells delicious.”
“I like chicken and noodles best, too!” Henry all but danced around Nate’s knees. “I could eat with you.”
“It’s not polite to invite yourself,” Carly said, tugging her son close, obviously unwilling for Henry to spend time with a bounty hunter. “Besides, I saved some for us.”
Nate didn’t blame her. He wasn’t someone a boy should look up to, but with Max Richards for a father, Henry had no idea what made a man admirable and might latch on to any man.
As he reached the stoop, Nate opened the door and called to his sister. He couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to sit at the table with Carly and her son. To enjoy a meal and a bit of conversation, assuming they could squeeze a word in between Henry’s little-boy chatter.
Anna appeared in the doorway. “Carly, what a lovely surprise.” She smiled at Henry. “This handsome young man must be Henry.”
“We bringed chicken and noodles for your
Anna shook out a tablecloth and let it float onto the scarred table. “If you can find two rods at the mercantile, I’ll make proper curtains tonight from my stash of fabric,” she said, setting a blue-striped crock in the center.
The errand would give Nate the perfect opening to ask questions. “I’ll head over there now.”
With a soft groan, Anna dropped into a ladder-back chair. The stray dog nudged Anna’s hand and got a perfunctory pat, then curled at Anna’s feet, head propped on her paws.
“You’ve overdone it. Now your hip’s bothering you.”
“I’ll rest a minute and be fine.” She glanced around her. “Once the curtains are made and up, this will look like home.”
He suspected Anna was making a home not only for herself but for him. “Don’t get too attached to the place. You’ll soon be moving behind the seamstress shop.”
“ If the judge should rule the shop is mine, I won’t displace Carly and her son. The boy just lost his father. I won’t let him lose the only home he’s probably known.”
“Anna,” he said, trying to make her see reason, “this cabin will sell with the livery. Where will you live then?”
As if he hadn’t spoken, Anna handed him a list, then flapped her hands, shooing him out like a pesky fly. “Please. Get those rods and the items I need.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, saluting her with a grin. “I’m at your service.”
Anna appeared mild-mannered, but she possessed a spine of steel. The reason she’d dealt well with her handicap, her incompetent husband and now his violent death.
“I’ll fix a nice supper. Get whatever looks good from the butcher. I intend to fatten you up.” She leaned down and patted the mutt. “You, too, Maizie.” Tail thumping against the floor, the dog raised her head, tongue lolling.
Anna probably hoped her home cooking would entice Nate to stay, as much as food enticed the stray. He had put on weight with her delicious meals. If he stayed, living a life of ease, he’d get soft. “Be back soon as I can.”
As Nate stepped onto the porch, Mrs. Richards and her son strolled toward him. The widow carried a pot, holding the handles with dishtowels, as if the metal was hot.
In three strides Nate reached her side. “Can I help with that?”
“Thank you, but I’ve got it.”
Henry beamed up at Nate. “You came back.”
“Yes, and brought my sister with me,” Nate said, unable to resist rubbing a palm over Henry’s cowlick. As soon as he removed his hand, the tuft sprang aloft.
Henry gazed up at his mother. “Is that the lady that’s going to help you sew?”
“Yes,” Carly said, her gaze darting to Nate, then away.
It didn’t take a mind reader to see her disquiet about relying on the woman who held the deed to her shop. That order she’d mentioned must be a whopper.
“I thought Anna might appreciate not having to cook.”
“Chicken and noodles,” Henry said.
“My favorite.” Nate inhaled. “Smells delicious.”
“I like chicken and noodles best, too!” Henry all but danced around Nate’s knees. “I could eat with you.”
“It’s not polite to invite yourself,” Carly said, tugging her son close, obviously unwilling for Henry to spend time with a bounty hunter. “Besides, I saved some for us.”
Nate didn’t blame her. He wasn’t someone a boy should look up to, but with Max Richards for a father, Henry had no idea what made a man admirable and might latch on to any man.
As he reached the stoop, Nate opened the door and called to his sister. He couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to sit at the table with Carly and her son. To enjoy a meal and a bit of conversation, assuming they could squeeze a word in between Henry’s little-boy chatter.
Anna appeared in the doorway. “Carly, what a lovely surprise.” She smiled at Henry. “This handsome young man must be Henry.”
“We bringed chicken and noodles for your
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