“Didn’t your mother send you to school?”
He flinched as if she’s struck him. “The folks who raised me tried, but I was too busy trying to prove I was a man to bother with learning to read and write.”
Jake stared at the letter while the silence stretched. “I’ve been carrying this around for almost a month.” He held it out to Nathan. “Would you read it to me?”
“I’d be glad to help, sir.” Nathan’s voice was serious.
Tears blurred her vision. He seemed so grown up when he accepted the letter. Then, he reached for Jake’s hand and led him back to the table, looking for all the world like the eight-year-old boy he was. Together they sat on a bench and Nathan opened the envelope.
“Dearest Jake,” the letter began. Nathan wrinkled his nose as he concentrated on the handwriting. “I miss you so much. I hoped you’d have come home by now.”
Rachel turned away from Nathan’s careful recitation. There was something very intimate about hearing such heartfelt words written to someone else. Besides, what business was it of hers if Jake was married, or had made a promise to marry?
“Son,” Nathan continued, “I haven’t seen you since the first freeze. Not much has changed here. The garden did very well this year.”
The words continued, but Rachel didn’t hear them. She was still registering the fact that the letter was from Jake’s mother.
She busied herself turning the cakes in the oven so they baked evenly, then started putting together the midday meal. Nathan turned over the first page of the letter and kept reading. Finally, he voiced the woman’s plea to come home soon and fell silent.
“Thank you, Nathan.” Jake gathered the pages together and slid them back in the envelope. “I haven’t seen her in more than six months. It’s good to know she’s all right.”
“I can help you write back to her, if you want me to.”
Silence descended in the cabin as Jake slipped the letter into his shirt pocket. “She’d like that.”
“Where does she live?” Nathan’s face was serious as he looked up at Jake.
“In Abilene. She helps out at the hotel there when they get busy, cooking and ironing.”
“Is that where you’re from?”
He hesitated. “I grew up there, mostly. I came to live with her and Papa after my real mother died.”
The anger in his voice surprised Rachel. She wanted to ask him to explain, but she wouldn’t pry. His secrets were his own.
Jake stood by the uncovered window, staring at the wall of snow covering it. Whatever had happened still held the power to make him furious. The room was alive with it.
“My mama died, too.” Oblivious to the tension, Nathan opened the door to the baking oven to peek at the cakes.
Rachel blanched, the blood draining from her head so fast she felt dizzy. She set down the knife she’d been using, afraid she’d cut herself.
Her brother was getting more and more curious about his father’s identity. She had no idea what she’d say when he insisted she tell him, only that he couldn’t know the truth.
Nathan wandered over and dropped to his knees beside Jake. “What are you doing with that rusty old thing?”
“Seeing if it can still be fired. It’s a Henry Repeating Rifle. I’ve seen a lot of these since the war. It’s a good weapon to have around.”
“We found it in the shed when we moved in here, but we didn’t know what to do with it. We’ve never had a gun before ’cause Sis hates them. She won’t ever use one and doesn’t really want it in the house. We only brought it inside ’cause it seemed a shame for it to sit out in the weather like that. Besides, we might have to shoot a bear or something. It musta looked real nice once. How do you know if it still works?”
Jake worked his way through the twists and turns until he got to the question. “I’ll take it apart and try to clean out the rust and dirt. You can help me if you want to, if your sister doesn’t mind.”
“Can I help him, Sis, please? I might need to know how to do it myself someday, when I’m grown.”
Rachel hesitated. She’d hated guns for as long as she could remember, though why they terrified her was no longer clear. But it didn’t seem reasonable to say no. Nathan would have to use one someday. No one survived long on the frontier without being able to defend themselves.
“I think that would be fine, Nathan.”
“Oh, boy! Wait ’til I tell Matthew.”
“Telling him will have to wait until the snow melts. In the meantime, please set the table for dinner.”
“Aw, that’s woman’s work, baby stuff.”
She felt her temper flair. The unfamiliar emotions Jake’s presence brought on were making her raw inside. She battled with herself, trying to respond without snapping at her brother. Jake beat her to it.
“There’s no such thing, son. A man needs to be able to make it on his own. That means doing all the stuff that needs to be done, including setting a table now and then.” He set the rusty rifle aside. “You get the plates and cups. I’ll help with the forks just as soon as I wash up and get the coffee on.”
“Coffee?” Rachel gaped at him. “You have coffee?”
Jake’s lips curved in the first true smile she’d seen on him, and she forgot what they were talking about. His dark eyes sparkled as the grin spread beneath the shadow of his beard. The air of danger he always wore lessened.
“I always carry a pound of it with me. A weakness of mine. Would you like to have some?”
“Some what? Oh.” She mentally shook herself. “I haven’t had coffee in years. Since I left El...uh...” She swallowed hard, appalled at what she’d nearly revealed. “I haven’t had any since we came to Lucinda. It wasn’t something we could afford.”
“Then I’m delighted to be able to add something to the feast, ma’am.”
•♥•
The meal smelled delicious. Once grace was said, Rachel poured coffee for Jake and herself. Nathan begged to try it, but one sip was enough.
“Ick. That’s awful.”
Jake laughed, amazing himself. He couldn’t remember ever laughing so much. He hadn’t been around children much, and he found it a pleasure to watch an intelligent boy like Nathan discover life.
Rachel reached for the butter at the same moment Jake did. Their fingers brushed, and she snatched her hand back. A hint of pink tinged her cheeks. He handed the butter to her, puzzled by the sparks that flew when they touched. No woman had ever drawn him like she did, or brought his body to attention just by being in the same room. Her scent, a combination of lavender and female, teased him with every breath he took.
Jake looked up from his plate to find Rachel watching him, holding out the butter. He took it, deliberately brushing the back of her hand with his fingertips. Her brilliant blue eyes grew smoky before she looked away. She responded to the lightest touch, to the slightest hint of an offer.
Jake bent his head to his food, but his thoughts circled around the puzzle that was Rachel Hudson. She didn’t react like an innocent girl. What if she wasn’t? What if the boy was her son? Nathan called her Sis, but what did that mean? Lots of folks went by nicknames out here. Didn’t preachers call their women “sister”? Maybe Sis was short for that.
His body quickened at the thought that Rachel might be a widow. A beauty like her in a snowbound cabin...
Jake hauled in his galloping imagination. There was Nathan to consider. If the woman wanted everyone to believe they were brother and sister, it was no business of his. He had work to do. There wasn’t time for any other pursuits, no matter how enjoyable they promised to be. As soon as the storm broke, he would dig them out and be sure the cabin was restocked with food and firewood. It was little enough to do to repay them for saving his life. Then he was heading after the murderers he’d been chasing before they turned the tables on him.
This was the last job he was doing before he turned in his badge. He’d already told his captain that he was resigning his commission. The man
had lectured him about responsibility and innocent people depending on the Rangers to make the frontier safer for them, but nothing would change his mind. He couldn’t take on any more ghosts.
It was the innocent ones he couldn’t forget. He saw their faces every night in his sleep. Their memory kept him going, driving him to finish what he’d started. Maybe then they’d leave him in peace.
CHAPTER FOUR
Rachel was surprised the old rifle didn’t split in two. Other than the quiet thirty minutes he’d spent tending his horse, Jake had been rubbing at the rusty metal the entire afternoon, his expression turning more grim as time passed. He only stopped now and then to stretch his left arm. It must still be sore from the beating he’d taken, and from being dragged around by his horse. The swelling was almost gone from his eye, but the rainbow of bruising was just beginning to show.
When he glared at the rifle again, she almost told him to leave the old thing be, that they didn’t really need it, but the look in his eyes was so fierce she lost her nerve.
Nathan didn’t have any reservations, though. As soon as his chores were done, he raced to Jake’s side and started asking questions. The Ranger answered every one with patience, explaining everything the boy didn’t understand.
She watched for a while, but found she was more interested in the ripple and play of muscles under Jake’s shirt than the gun. Tearing her gaze away, she went to check on the progress of the storm.
She couldn’t hear the wind anymore, giving her hope it was over. The north window was covered in ice and snow. She went to the other three windows in turn, opening shutters and peering out, but saw only white. That left the door.
She lifted the bar that secured it and set it aside. Bracing herself, she lifted the latch. The instant she did, the heavy wood flew open, knocking her back a step. Without any support, the wall of snow covering the doorway collapsed into the room, dancing in front of the wind that chased it. In seconds white flakes were strewn across the cabin.
Rachel squealed at the attack and all hell broke loose. Nathan came running at her scream, slipped on the snow and slid into the chests and boxes forming the corral. Jake’s horse spooked, rearing and pawing the air in challenge. One of the goats ripped free from its restraint, jumped through the opening Nathan had made and galloped through the room, knocking over chairs and benches in its flight.
The rooster started crowing the instant light flooded the cabin, and the hens set up a racket fit to wake the dead. She had no idea four chickens could make that much noise.
“Nathan, get the goat.” Jake’s clipped order left no room for argument. While the boy chased the smaller four-legged animal, Jake whistled, a short, sharp tone that caught Griffin’s attention. It calmed the horse enough for Jake to grab his halter. It took both Nathan and Rachel to drag the reluctant goat across the room to the enclosure, and Jake had to help get it inside before they could shove the crates back into place, securing the makeshift corral.
The chickens kept up their ear-splitting noise. In desperation, Jake tossed a blanket over the cages, plunging them into night. The deafening noise quieted, at last.
Ignoring it all, Rachel closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the freezing air. “I think it’s starting to warm a little. The sun is out.”
“Maybe so, but it’s still cold. Close the door,” Nathan grumbled.
Rachel blinked and glanced around. The room was in shambles. Everything was wet, including Jake’s revolvers and rifle. Grabbing the broom, she swept the trampled snow into a pile and scooped it out of the way. She filled two buckets and her dishpan with clean snow from the porch, handed them to Nathan, and closed and barred the door. Then she turned to survey the wreckage.
“Well”—she shook out her skirt with both hands—“the floor needed washing anyway. And I got the water I wanted.”
Jake looked at her blankly.
She pointed at the buckets, filled with melting snow.
“Why didn’t you just ask? I’d have taken care of it.”
“I’m capable of getting a couple of buckets of snow. There was no need to trouble you. You’ve been injured.”
“You don’t have to remind me how careless I was,” he snapped. “There’s nothing wrong with me that time won’t fix.”
Rachel backed away until she came up against the door. Jake stalked her, step for step, until he stood so close she could feel every breath he took. She blinked up at him, wariness stealing her voice. “A-all right. You can move them closer to the fire for me.”
Jake glared at her for a long moment, then shook his head on a laugh. “You’ve got pluck, I’ll give you that.” He leaned a little closer and inhaled. “And you smell like springtime.”
Rachel opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out. One corner of Jake’s mouth curved and she couldn’t breathe. That smile could melt a woman at twenty paces, let alone when he stood so close. She reached up and touched a finger to his upper lip. His smile faded, but he didn’t ask her to stop. Her fingers continued their exploration. She traced his lower lip and was shocked to realize she wanted to know how his smile tasted.
Jake finally stopped her. Threading his fingers through hers until he couldn’t get any closer, he leaned forward so only she could hear him. “Be sure you know what you’re asking for.” He pressed a biting kiss to her palm. “If Nathan wasn’t just a couple of steps away, I’d show you just what you’re doing to me.” Straightening, he put some distance between them. “How far to the woodpile?”
“I’ll go.” Nathan vaulted over a chest and skidded to a stop beside Jake.
“Not without your coat.” Rachel hoped Nathan didn’t notice the trembling in her voice.
Jake headed off the argument she could see in her brother’s eyes. “Why don’t you stand just inside the door and I’ll hand all the pieces to you? That keeps me from having to walk back and forth so much on my bad leg.”
Nathan didn’t look happy, but he agreed. “Makes sense, I guess. The wood is piled up not too far away.”
Jake opened the door cautiously, but no more snow avalanched into the cabin. Beyond the indent made by her curiosity, all Rachel could see was white. Nathan pointed Jake toward a small lump just off the porch. “Hand me the broom.”
Shoving a mountain of snow aside with his shoulder, Jake slogged through a knee-deep drift until he reached the wood. The cabin seemed almost buried in white, but the air was warmer and the snow was beginning to melt.
Using the broom to clear off the wood, Jake carried armloads back to the door, keeping them small enough for Nathan to manage. It took a while, but finally a respectable stack of raggedly cut logs lay in a pile in the corner of the cabin.
“That should keep you for a day or two.” Jake stamped the snow from his boots and came inside.
Nathan mimicked his movements. “Yep, that should keep us.”
As they built up the fire to dry the cabin and themselves, Rachel set out sugar, butter, and two eggs. While Jake had carried in the wood, she’d filled every available pot and bucket with snow. She set the snow-filled coffeepot on the stove to heat, and leaned over to poke at the wood inside.
“I’ll do that,” Jake growled. He limped across the room in his stocking feet, leaving his boots to dry on the hearth. Taking the poker from her, he added a small piece of wood and coaxed the fire back to life.
Nathan lined his boots up beside Jake’s, and padded to his side. “She only needs a little hot water to warm the butter to make the icing,” he explained. “She’ll use the rest to make tea or something.”
Jake made an appropriate sound and glanced at Rachel. Self-conscious, she smoothed the skirt of her dark blue wool gown and fussed with her hair, making sure it was still tamed by the matching ribbon.
He traced her from shoulders to toes with his gaze, hesitating at the point where her hips flared beneath the gathered fabric. Even watching him from across the room made her feel warm and weak. When Jake finally looked away, she grabbed at the tab
le to support her shaky knees.
“Let’s pull out the guns again,” Jake suggested to Nathan. “They’re probably as wet as everything else.”
Together, they spread out Jake’s weapons and the old rifle, as well as his boot knife. Not to be outdone, Nathan went to the small shelf on the wall of the animal pen and hunted up his own short blade.
When he laid it on the table, Jake picked it up and examined it. “Good balance, but it needs sharpening. A knife’s no good if it won’t cut when you need it to.”
Nathan nodded, absorbing every word.
“Once we get these dried off, I’ll teach you how to hone your blade.” The smile that bloomed on her brother’s face would have lit up a night sky.
They worked side by side the rest of the afternoon. As the day drew to a close, Jake stood and stretched his stiff muscles. Nathan did, too, adding a groan to complete the effect. When they noticed the cake she’d layered and iced, Rachel realized she was nervous about Jake’s reaction. Would he like it?
“Cake!” Nathan bounded around the table and swiped his finger through the creamy icing.
“Nathan Joseph Hudson,” Rachel scolded. “You leave that alone. It’s for after dinner.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he intoned, grinning without apology.
“Wash your hands,” Rachel continued. “Supper is about ready. You, too, Ranger McCain.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he mimicked Nathan, earning a laugh from her. With a wink that had her blushing, he cleared the table before joining Nathan at the wash bucket.
As the sun set, shadows overtook the room. Rachel lit three small candles and put them on the table. Nathan took a fourth and put it in one of the windows.
“What’s that for?” Jake dried his hands with a clean cloth.
“It’s our special candle,” Nathan explained. “We usually only light it before Christmas, so the Christ child can find his way. When it started to snow the other night, Sis an’ me didn’t want spring to get lost, so we put it back.”
“That’s what I saw,” he marveled.
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