The Brides of Chance Collection by Cathy Marie Hake, Kelly Eileen Hake, Tracey V. Bateman Page A

brothers. That wouldn’t be wise tonight. She wasn’t feeling up to tending the girls if they woke, and asking Daniel to give up his home and let Miriam sleep in Hannah’s bed would likely set off his temper. No, tonight Miriam would have to sleep where she’d spent the previous night.
    Gideon slowly rose and planned to carry her in, but she gained her feet and wrapped her arms about herself. He wondered whether she did it because she was cold or whether it was a subconscious way of comforting herself or guarding against the oppressive grief. Either way, he drew her into the lee of his body.
    She fit there all too easily and molded her frame to his, making him aware again how fragile and soft women were. Somehow it felt good and right to have her in his arms, but just as quickly as that notion sneaked through his mind, he rejected it.
    Bad enough they’d buried Mama and Hannah beneath the majestic pines over to the east of the house. Miriam was every bit as small as her sister had been. Two graves seemed like more than one ranch’s fair share for such a short span of time. Sure as shooting, if Miriam stayed more than just a few days, she’d end up raising the count to three. This was no land for a delicate woman. Gideon resolved to hustle her out of here right quick.
    “I’m s–sorry.”
    Her apology jarred him out of his grim decision making. “No, sweet pea. You’ve no call to beg my pardon,” he said quietly. He hoped if he kept his tone low, he’d spare her a bit of throbbing in her head. “You have a tender heart is all.” That, and a body that’s as vulnerable as your spirit . “Let’s tuck you in for the night.”
    He shortened his stride and led her back to the house. Only Paul was inside. He sat by the hearth, sharpening knives on a whetstone. He looked up, and his lips thinned as he took in Miriam’s red eyes and nose. Gideon shook his head in a silent warning. Miriam didn’t need anyone commenting on the obvious.
    She eased away from his side and went to the washstand. For an instant, Gideon worried the pitcher would be empty as usual; but she lifted it, and fresh water trickled into the chipped porcelain basin. Of course. Of course Miss Miriam would have refilled it.
    An odd impression struck him. She wasn’t prissy about being tidy the way Hannah had been. The corners of Hannah’s mouth seemed perpetually tightened, as if she disapproved of just about everything. Oh, she’d pitched in and done all the women’s work. She’d been as sweet as honey to Daniel, too. No one would ever fault her on how loving she’d been to little Polly.
    More than anything, Gideon came away with the feeling his brother’s wife felt a tad put out with the fact of having more than just her own man to care for. He wasn’t the only one who sensed her resentment, either. His brothers all yielded to Hannah’s picky little preferences and allowed her some of her weepy days. After all, she’d been in a delicate condition nearly two of the three years she’d lived with them.
    Then, too, a woman had a right to want a nest of her own. When Daniel appeared out of the blue with a wife, the brothers jumped in and built the cottage straightaway. Though Hannah and Daniel slept there, the fireplace was only sufficient for heat. During the winter, Hannah needed to do the laundry here in the big house, and she’d done the cooking here year-round. Mama always said cooking for two or ten didn’t make much difference, but Gideon suspected Hannah would have disagreed.
    So far, Miss Miriam didn’t seem to mind stepping in front of a stove. Then again, it wasn’t a permanent arrangement. She’d only be here a few brief days, so making fancy meals with all the fixings probably suited her. After being stuck on the sailing ship, having the freedom to decide what to eat might well be a treat to her.
    Nonetheless, the first thing she’d done was set to sprucing up the place that first night. In his experience, when grief struck,