Pamela Nissen – Rocky Mountain Match (страница 7)

Just thinking about the mess he’d made of dinner yesterday sent shame, thick as mud, coursing through his veins. But then like a flag of warning, concern for Miss Ellickson rose inside him. “What about Miss Ellickson? Has something happened?”

“She’ll be here any minute now. And Ben, Zach and I—we’re here to make sure you plan on being civil to her.”

He gave a short harrumph. “You don’t think I will?”

“I don’t know. You tell me,” Ben answered in a no-nonsense tone. “Like I said yesterday, you’ve always been a gentleman in the past, but as angry as you are, we don’t want you scaring her off. She’s come a long way to work with you.”

Another day with her definitely didn’t sit well with him. Not at all. Last night he’d barely gotten a wink of sleep thinking about her. He’d been bracing himself for her return and now here his brothers were, showing more concern for her than loyalty to him.

He felt trapped. Trapped in his home. Trapped in his body. Trapped in a fear so unfamiliar.

Taunting disorientation blanketed him and he struggled to steady himself against the unnerving effects. “What would make you think that I’m going to scare her off, anyway?”

Ben slid a chair over the hardwood floor and sat down with a weighted thud, Zach and Aaron following his move. “Oh, you wouldn’t intentionally do that—I don’t think, anyway. But believe me, you can be intimidating even when you’re not angry.”

“Yeah. It’s like the Red Sea parting every time you walk through a crowd,” Aaron quipped with a chuckle. “Wish I had that effect.”

Joseph tightened his grip on the chair. “I’m not the one who invited her here. When you mentioned the idea in the first place, I made it clear how I felt. But then you showed up with her in tow, pushing me into this whole thing. I went through with it yesterday and I’ll do the same again today, but I’m telling you, I’m just going through the motions.”

When Aaron reached over and grabbed Joseph’s arm, Joseph flinched at the unexpected touch. His brothers meant well—Ben had gone above and beyond in his care of Joseph. Aaron had been carrying twice his usual load in the shop, and Zach had risked losing his tenuous position as a ranch hand to help out. They were doing so much, but nothing they could do right now would make him feel better. True, he could batter them bloody, but somehow he knew it wouldn’t touch the strange bitterness and pain that had settled deep in his heart.

Ben squeezed Joseph’s forearm. “You don’t have to like the training and you don’t even have to like Miss Ellickson. All we’re asking is that you be civil to her and give her a chance.”

Oh, he’d give her a chance all right. He’d suffer through two more weeks of this. She might even show him something that could make the time bearable. But if he had his way, she’d be gone after he returned from Denver to see the doctor. It didn’t matter where she went—she could even stay in Boulder for all he cared—he just didn’t want to need her.

Joseph lowered himself to a chair, set on hiding his raw emotions from his brothers. “All I can say is that I hope she’s not disappointed when I don’t need her after all. Seems like an awful long way to travel to work for only a couple of weeks.”

When he heard Ben clear his throat, his pulse began a rapid beat in his ears. He could imagine what Ben would say next, so he quickly added, “And you can breathe easy. You have my word…I’ll be on my best behavior. I’ll be a veritable welcome wagon from here on out.”

Mr. Drake stood in front of Katie, his tall, tightly muscled frame filling the doorway. “Come in.”

Come in? Katie silently mouthed as she peered up at him to see one of his hands hooked over the top of the door, the other gesturing for her to enter. Since yesterday she’d prepared for a goodbye fare-thee-well, sure that he would refuse further training, but now he’d invited her to—to come in?

She’d prayed all night long that he wouldn’t give up, and if he did, she’d try to persuade him otherwise. Terrified of going home, she needed a reason to stay here in Colorado. But also, after meeting Mr. Drake yesterday, she wanted desperately to help him find freedom again.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt.

With an armload of books, she squeezed by him, acutely aware of his solid form so near hers. When she removed her pale straw bonnet and hung it on a coat hook, her attention was drawn to the floor where a Bible lay sprawled open. Her breath caught as she remembered hearing something crash against the door yesterday. She tenderly scooped up the Bible, its cover worn with the passage of time and its pages yellowed and frayed from use. Carefully cradling it against her chest with the other books, Katie steadied her wavering emotions. “Your Bible. You must have dropped it.”

Without a word, he quietly latched the door.

“I’ll just put it over here on the mantel for you.” After she’d laid it on the beautifully crafted mantel, she turned and noticed Boone lying beside one of the wingback chairs. “Well, good morning, Boone. How are you this fine morning?” Kneeling beside his massive head, she held out her hand to him.

Katie smiled as he pressed his big, wet nose into her palm and stared up at her with expressive brown eyes. After giving her a wet kiss, he flopped his head down on the wood floor with a dull thud. She smoothed the unruly hair on top of his head. “I certainly hope this means we’re on friendly terms.”

Still smiling, she rose and returned to where she’d left Mr. Drake standing. She nervously fingered the row of silver buttons trailing down her high-necked white blouse. “And how are you today, Mr. Drake? Are we on friendly terms, too?”

He pushed away from the door, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. “I suppose you were wondering if I’d call it off?”

“To be perfectly candid, the thought had crossed my mind.” Threading her fingers together in front of her, she added, “I was very much hoping you would continue with the training.”

He jammed his hands into his pockets, his jaw muscle ticking. “I don’t quit things that easily, but even if I did, I have three brothers holding my feet to the fire.”

“They must care a great deal.”

When he just nodded, she walked to the kitchen where the bold scent of fresh coffee met her squarely. Setting her books on the table, she smoothed her pale yellow cotton skirt. “Smells like you made coffee. Do you mind if I help myself?”

“Go right ahead.” He shuffled to the table, his hands splayed in front of him. “My brothers were over earlier this morning and Ben made a pot.” Reaching for a chair, he added, “I’m warning you, he makes it strong enough to wake the dead.”

“Perfect. I didn’t get much sleep last night. I must not be used to my new surroundings yet,” she half lied. In truth she’d lain awake thinking of how she could best help him.

And how she could keep this job.

She couldn’t bear the thought of going home already—too many dark clouds threatened on the horizon there. Here, she had hope that the sun’s warmth would shine on her face again. With or without a job her aunt and uncle would welcome her to stay, but Katie would never think to impose on their goodness overly long, especially if she wasn’t earning her keep.

“Mr. Drake, could I get you a cup, too?”

He shifted nervously, then reached out to his adorable dog who sauntered up beside him, his big, furry feet sweeping across the wood floor as though he wore heavy boots. “Sure. Thanks.”

As she scanned the cupboard shelves for two mugs, she wondered what had come over Mr. Drake. The contempt he’d readily shown yesterday was barely visible today—in fact, she might even go so far as to say that he was congenial.

Spotting a row of mugs on the third shelf, she said, “They’re a little out of reach.”

He stood, quirking one brow. “What?”

“The mugs… I’m not tall enough to reach them.”

Lifting his head in silent recognition, he moved toward her, his movements jerky and uncertain. When he’d pulled them from the shelf, he turned, almost knocking into her.

“Here you are,” he said, holding the mugs out to her.

Katie squeezed back against the counter as he towered over her. An eerie chill crept up her spine as she struggled to block out the haunting memories that assaulted her. But the way Mr. Drake stood over her, trapping her and closing her in like he was, she wanted to scream and escape from the suffocating confinement.

Gulping back the bile that rose in her throat, she snatched the mugs from him with trembling hands. “Thank you.”

She slipped around him and crossed to the stove. As she steadied her hands enough to pour the steaming liquid, she willed her heart to stop pounding. Setting the pot back on the burner, her brow beaded with a cold sweat and her vision narrowed. She fought to even out her short gasping breaths, clutching the stove handle as though it were some lifeline.

Katie reminded herself over and over that he was not Frank Fowler, the man who’d set into motion a year of turmoil that she could share with no one. She’d had to carry the burden alone and at times it threatened to shatter her under its weight.