He arched a brow, surprised at her questions. Most women weren’t interested in the business end of ranching. “Both. Mostly cattle, although I’m raising and training a few good saddle horses for sale. I’m hoping to build up a herd so I don’t have to only depend on cattle.”
She nodded as though she completely understood. “That’s wise. My papa always loved horses, and he was a fine judge of horseflesh. He taught me a few things as I was growing up.” She smiled. “He didn’t have a son, so he had to make do with me. I learned a number of things most fathers don’t normally pass on to their daughters.”
“Really.” Grant was more and more intrigued by this woman. “Like what?”
“Oh, hunting, shooting, managing the books, and the finer points of a good horse. Nothing that would be very helpful in finding a job or caring for myself, other than keeping the books.” She wrinkled her nose. “Unfortunately, I didn’t take to that with the same alacrity as I did to riding, hunting, or target shooting.”
Grant laughed in spite of his attempt not to. What a delightful woman, with a unique perspective on life. He quickly sobered as he remembered what she’d said. Mr. Sam Tolliver was awaiting her arrival and might even now be scouring the countryside to find the woman he planned to marry.
Addie brushed a strand of loose hair out of her face. She must look a frightful mess. She hadn’t taken the time to go through her bags and find her hairbrush and mirror, and she’d barely had time to wash her face since arriving. She’d brought a change of clothes, but she could hardly avail herself of them in a one-room cabin with a man who was a stranger. She felt a rush of heat to her cheeks and turned her head away.
“Is everything all right, Miss Patrick?” Grant Hollister’s voice sounded as though from a distance, but it brought Addie back to herself.
“Yes, thank you. How long do you think we’ll be here? Now that the snow has stopped, can we ride your horse and make it to Mt. Dora?” She wanted to say, “or to your ranch,” but that wasn’t her destination. Mr. Tolliver was waiting for her, and that’s where she belonged, in spite of her traitorous thoughts. Besides, attraction wasn’t enough to base a relationship on. Mr. Tolliver had offered her a home and a future, and she needed to remember that.
“Unfortunately, my horse came down lame before the storm hit. That’s why I wasn’t able to make it here before dark. He’d never be able to carry us both, and I’m not sure but what it could be a few days before he’ll be healed enough to even carry you, with me walking.”
She placed her mug on the table with a clunk. “Can we lead him and walk to town?”
He shook his head. “There’s too much snow for you to walk in those heavy skirts. We’ll have to wait it out and hope no more storms pass through. If we’re lucky, the sun will come out and the snow will melt in a couple of days, and we can make it to the ranch.”
“Why the ranch and not town?”
“I need to get back. Connie and my men will worry. They expected me back yesterday.”
“But Mr. Tolliver will also be worried. Is there a way to get word to him that I’m all right? And Clem—the poor driver—his family must be frantic.”
Grant nodded. “I’m guessing there might be a number of people who got stranded by this storm and aren’t home yet. Once we get to the ranch, we’ll see if the trails are open enough to get word to town, but it could be a few days.”
“Then maybe we can be less formal if we’re going to be stuck together in this shack. My Christian name is Addie, if you’d care to use it.”
He gave a brief nod. “Thank you. I’d prefer Grant as well. It might make things easier if we could work at being friends rather than strangers trapped in this small space.”
Addie smiled, then her mind latched on to something he’d said a moment before. Connie would worry. Her heart sank. She’d forgotten about his wife. How foolish to have even allowed her thoughts to drift to this man in a romantic way when she’d guessed he might be married. “I meant to ask you. How long have you and your wife been married, and how old is your son? You seemed quite concerned about them when you were ill.”
His face went slack, and then his eyes widened. “My wife, Connie? Why—”
A horse neighing a distance from the cabin jerked them both to attention. Addie leaped for the rifle and pointed it at the door. “You mentioned outlaws earlier. Do you think they’ve come?”
Grant pushed to his feet and held out his hand. “If they have, I don’t intend to allow you to defend me. Hand me that rifle. I’m going to stand to the side of the door. I want you to stand just behind it. Quickly now.”
She hesitated, but the firm look on his face convinced her, and she passed the rifle over to him then stepped behind the door, her heart pounding a double beat in her chest.
Chapter 6
Grant felt a rush of strength flow through his body as he stepped to the lone window, hoping he’d be able to spot whoever was approaching the cabin. If it was a band of outlaws, they’d more than likely keep to the back of the shack, not ride up in plain sight where anyone inside could draw a bead on them with a rifle.
He stood to one side then leaned forward slightly and peered out. Just as he expected. Nothing moved. But he wasn’t fooled. The horse that whinnied hadn’t been Diego.
Grant glanced at Addie. She gripped her hands in front of her, but she didn’t appear terrified in the least. He bit back a smile at the memory of her standing at the door holding the rifle even though she was afraid there might be outlaws outside. What a woman! He’d never met anyone like her except Connie—a strong woman with a heart of gold.
Where was the horse they’d heard? They didn’t both imagine it. A sudden movement from the corner of his vision caught his attention. Two men, bundled in heavy coats with hats pulled low over their eyes, rode into sight, leading a spare horse.
If his guess was correct, he and Addie would be leaving the cozy confines of the line shack soon. Relief warred with disappointment at the realization. Somehow he’d thought they’d be stuck here for another couple of days, and it hadn’t worried him at all, other than the anxiety it might cause the people back home. He couldn’t stifle the twinge of satisfaction over the thought that the older gentleman who wanted to marry Addie would have to wait. From what he surmised, the man only wanted a maid, cook, and free help in his store. That was no reason to marry, in his estimation.
The horses pushed through the deep snow and moved closer to the cabin. He knew that lead horse, as he’d helped break him in a few years ago. And that was certainly no outlaw; it was George Clancy, and behind him rode Porter Smith, one of his oldest hands, leading a horse behind him.
Grant grinned at Addie. “You can come out now and relax. They aren’t outlaws; they’re my men.”
Addie stepped to Grant’s side at the window and peered outside. “You’re certain it’s safe?”
“Yes. Those two men have worked for me for several years. I didn’t think they’d arrive so quickly or think of looking here.” He moved to the door and opened it a few inches.
The biting wind blew through the crack and Addie shivered. She reached for a piece of split wood, opened the door to the stove, and shoved it inside. Those men would be nearly frozen after traveling in this weather. She looked up. “How about their horses? Is there room in the lean-to?”
Grant nodded. “Diego is one of their pasture mates, so he won’t mind sharing. We’ll blanket them if we need to with the extra blankets from the cot.”
She frowned, wondering what they’d use for blankets if they put them over the horses’ backs. “But what about—”
The door was flung open, and two men stamped their feet on the threshold then moved inside. “Hey, boss. Hoped we’d find you out here when you didn’t make it home before the storm hit. Connie and Thomas have been worried.”
Addie’s excitement at being rescued dimmed a bit at the mention of Grant’s family. It was time she got to town and found Sam Tolliver so she could put this foolishne
ss behind her.
Grant shot the man a look then glanced at Addie. “That’s what I figured. I got caught in the storm when Diego pulled up lame. Did you have a hard time getting here?” He frowned. “Sorry. Where are my manners. Boys, this is Miss Addie Patrick. Miss Patrick, this is George Clancy”—he motioned at the man who must be nearing his thirties—“and Porter Smith, an old galoot who hails from down Texas way.” He grinned. “And I’m lucky to have them on my payroll.”
Both men swept off their hats and bowed, revealing a shock of blond hair on the cowboy named Clancy and a nearly bald head on Porter Smith. “Proud to meet you, ma’am,” said Mr. Smith with a shy smile. “What brings you to the line shack?”
She tipped her head and smiled. “Nice to meet you both, and I’m anxious to hear your answer about the trails and the snow. But to answer your question, I was on my way to Mt. Dora when my wagon overturned. My driver was killed, and I was thrown clear. I made it here before the storm got bad.”
Mr. Smith scratched his head. “Who was your driver, ma’am?”
“I only remember his first name. Clem. He was from Clayton.”
“Ah, that’s a shame. I knowed Clem, and he was a good fella, if a mite stubborn in wantin’ to do things his own way.”
Addie nodded. “I tried to convince him to slow the horse, but he said we needed to get to Mt. Dora before the storm broke.”
Mr. Smith’s brows rose. “You walked all the way here? Clem still out there, I suppose?”
“Yes, but it wasn’t far. I imagine Clem is buried under the snow. I wish I could have done something for him, but I had no way to bury him.” Dread filled her at the next question she felt compelled to ask. “Did he have a family?”
“No, ma’am. Clem was alone in the world, other than his dog. One of the neighbors will hear ol’ Rusty howlin’ if he doesn’t get fed, and they’ll take him in. They’re used to Clem haulin’ freight and passengers to Mt. Dora and not makin’ it home at night.”
“Good. I’ve been worried he might have a wife sitting at home worrying.” She cast a look at Grant and opened her lips, but George Clancy interrupted.
“Boss, you asked about the trail. It’s passable, but we need to get you home soon as we can, if Diego can travel. Thomas came down sick, and Connie’s fit to be tied.” He motioned toward Addie. “What about her?”
Grant looked from his men to Addie. “She’ll have to come with us. We don’t have enough horses, but she can ride the extra you brought and I’ll walk.”
Addie gasped. “But I need to get to Mt. Dora.”
Mr. Smith shook his head. “Not going to work, I’m afraid. There’s another storm comin’ in. I can feel it in my bones. We’ll be lucky to get back before she hits. ’Sides, Connie needs the boss as soon as he can get there, and that’s all there is to it. We’ll make sure you get to town when the snow clears, ma’am. I promise.”
Grant looked from his ranch hands to Addie. “I have to agree with George. If there’s another storm due, we might make it to town and be trapped there. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to come to the ranch with us until the weather clears and we can safely take you to Mt. Dora.”
Addie wavered on the edge of arguing. She didn’t particularly care to meet Grant’s wife or stay in their home. It made her heart ache just to think of it—which didn’t bode well for her future relationship with Sam Tolliver. But it couldn’t be helped. There was good sense in what they proposed. She’d have to put on a smile and make the best of things, no matter what the future might hold.
Chapter 7
Grant kept a close eye on the sky and on Addie as they trudged through the snow toward the ranch. The wind had almost cleared the trail in places, but in others it was heaped over two feet deep. He didn’t know whether to groan or rejoice. The heavy snowfall would make outdoor chores more difficult, but the possibility of more snow coming would also delay the inevitable—delivering Addie to her intended in Mt. Dora.
He and his men took turns riding and walking, allowing Addie to ride the entire way, although she’d protested more than once that she was able to walk. He smiled to himself. She certainly had a mind of her own, and yet she was soft spoken and courteous, never insisting on her own way once she saw the sense in what was proposed.
The wind was sharp and biting, and it actually felt good to dismount and walk to get his blood moving again, although as tired as he felt, he probably couldn’t keep it up for long. He had yet to correct Addie’s impression that Connie was his wife and Thomas his son. It wouldn’t be long now until she met them, as the ranch lay over this rise. But the cold and the wind made it impossible to talk, and there was no privacy with his men so near.
Relief flooded Grant as they crested the hill and the panorama of his ranch lay below them. He’d chosen a valley and had positioned the house and barns to utilize a flowing spring, pumping the water through wooden pipes to troughs and the house, making their workload lighter. The two-story home had a fresh coat of white paint, and he’d added a covered porch last fall so Connie could sit in the shade and put her feet up after a long day of cooking and housework. What would Addie think of his ranch and the people who had helped make it a home?
Almost as though she’d read his thoughts, Addie reined in her horse and gave a small cry of delight. “How lovely! It looks so peaceful and homey.” She turned to him and smiled. “If I were you, I’d never want to leave.”
His heart thundered in his chest. He felt the same way, but he’d always figured the remote location would scare away any refined woman. Could Addie be the woman he’d hoped to someday meet? But why had God allowed him to find her too late, after she’d already been claimed by another man?
Addie slipped off her horse, thankful to be able to stretch her legs. She studied the front of the charming house with the covered porch running the entire span along the front of it. Not only that, the heat of a fire and the promised meal Grant had mentioned sounded wonderful. They’d only spoken the one time at the top of the hill while looking at his ranch, and he hadn’t said anything about his family. Maybe he’d forgotten her question, or possibly he hadn’t wanted to say anything in front of his ranch hands.
She walked toward the front door where Grant stood holding it open. Why wasn’t he rushing inside to greet his wife and child? Strange that they hadn’t come out to meet him, either.
She stepped past him and into a spacious foyer. She could glimpse a room that looked like a study or parlor off to the left through an open doorway—a cheery fire burned in a wide fireplace. It hadn’t snowed or rained the entire ride to the ranch, so she’d stayed dry, but the wind had a bite, and the blaze drew her. “Thank you. May I wash up and change my clothes? I feel so untidy after two days in the cabin.”
“Certainly. I’ll show you to the spare room, but first…”
A joyous cry cut him off as an older woman with graying hair rushed down the hall. “Grant. I was despairin’ of you ever makin’ it back home. What took you so long, boy?”
He wrapped his arms around her as she met him, and drew her into a long hug. “A lame horse and a slight fever. But I’m fine now, thanks to Miss Addie Patrick, who gave me some fine nursing care.” He turned to face Addie and grinned. “Miss Patrick—Addie—I’d like you to meet Connie Benson, my cook, housekeeper, and best friend.”
Addie simply stared, not certain what to say. This couldn’t be the Connie he’d worried about while at the line shack. Was it possible his wife had the same name as this woman? She heard another set of footsteps coming down the hall but paid scant heed as she turned to Grant. “But how about Thomas? Your son. What’s going on?”
A booming laugh from behind Connie cut off any more questions. A tall, thin man, with more wrinkles on his face than a prune, clapped his hands on Connie’s shoulders. “Well now, missy, I don’t know about being young enough to be Grant’s son, but I’m sure proud to call Connie my wife. Sorry if Grant rushed home on account of me. I’m feeling a sight better.” He dipped
his head and grinned. “I’m Thomas. And who might you be?”
Chapter 8
Addie stretched in the comfortable feather bed the next morning, loathe to leave the warm cocoon where she’d slept without being aware of even moving all night. After her eventful arrival and introduction to Connie and Thomas, the cheerful woman had shown her to this room that definitely displayed a woman’s touch. She’d washed as best she could, changed to a clean dress, and eaten a sumptuous meal.
Addie still felt embarrassed at her mistake over Connie and Thomas and the words she’d blurted out in their presence last night, thinking there was a boy named Thomas who was Grant’s son. How humiliating. Connie and Thomas couldn’t have been more gracious, never bringing up the subject, but she’d caught more than one glance pass between the two at dinner. She hadn’t been able to look at Grant all evening, and she made her excuses as soon as she could and slipped off to bed.
More than once, he appeared to want to take her aside and talk, but she’d managed to avoid him. Why hadn’t he set her straight before they arrived at the ranch?
She threw back the covers then hurried to dress and brush her hair, wondering if she’d slept past breakfast. Surely someone would have come for her if so. After lacing up her shoes, she stepped into the hall and hurried toward the stairs, her stomach rumbling at the wonderful fragrances emanating from the kitchen.
Grant waited at the bottom of the stairs, his solemn face upturned as she descended. “Addie, would you give me a chance to speak to you before we have breakfast?”
She hesitated for only a moment then nodded. “Of course. You’ve been quite gracious, allowing me to stay in your home.”
He extended his arm as her foot touched the bottom step. “Please. Allow me to show you the way.”
She slipped her hand into the crook of his bent elbow and almost removed it when a sensation quite unlike anything she’d experienced before shot up her arm and straight to her heart. Addie loosened her hold. “What did you want to say?”
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