A man she wanted to marry her niece. As Wood waited outside for Hannah, he debated whether he should tell her where he had been and why. With all the newspaper clippings he might be able to convince her he wasn’t crazy but simply a man out of time. But she’d also learn that he had been wanted for murder. And he didn’t doubt that she’d realize the reason for the rope bums on his neck and wrists had to do with a lynching, not a beating.
No, she’d never trust him if she knew the truth. And right now more than anything else he wanted to earn Hannah Davis’s trust. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy. When she came outside, she barely spoke a word to him.
“You’re angry with me.” Wood had to walk briskly to keep up with her as she strode across the gravel drive.
“As I said, I needed you today.”
“You have my apology. I’ll work as late tonight as you believe is necessary.”
“The beans can’t be harvested at night. Corn yes, soybeans no.” She cut across the grassy knoll separating the chicken coop from the grain bins and headed toward the machinery shed. “And another thing, you shouldn’t be driving Gabby’s car. You don’t have a license.”
“Gabby said lots of people drive these back roads without a license.”
“That doesn’t make it right.” She stopped outside the large metal shed and said, “Wait here.”
A few minutes later out came a truck with Hannah behind the wheel. She pulled up alongside Wood, and called out to him. “Hop in.”
Wood did as she instructed, and had barely shut the door when she took off down the dirt road. Even though he had ridden in her pickup and Gabby’s car, Wood wasn’t quite prepared for the experience, although Hannah handled the truck as easily as she did any of the other machines. He noticed that except for the steering wheel, few things inside the truck resembled Gabby’s car.
“I figured as long as you’ve been sneaking around driving Gabby’s car, you might as well learn to drive this so you can haul the corn for me,” she told him, then came to an abrupt halt.
Dust erupted like a giant cloud. Wood thought he saw Hannah stifle a grin, making him wonder if she didn’t know the effect the ride had on him.
“This is a stick shift.” Her hand rested on a ball atop a stick protruding from the floor. “You don’t move this until you press in the clutch. It’s the pedal to the left of the brake. The trick to getting started is to release the clutch as you step on the gas. Like this.” She put the truck in first gear and slowly moved forward.
Wood listened intently to her instructions, trying not to be distracted by the way the setting sun cast its golden glow on her blond curls. It didn’t help that she smelled like orange blossoms, or that her pink shirt clung to her curves in a most tantalizing way. She was pretty, and even though she could be as stubborn as a mule, she had a way about her that could make a man’s blood rush through his veins until he ached.
Maybe it was the fact that she was capable. He had never met a woman who could run an entire farm by herself. But it wasn’t just the physical labor she tackled. Hannah was strong, inside and out. And it was that thought that oddly he found comforting. Those tiny hands on that big steering wheel maneuvering this giant piece of metal as if it were a kettle on the stove.
She was gutsy. And bold. Yet feminine.
Again he thought about Gabby’s plan to marry Hannah off to a man she had ordered from an advertisement. Would she ever agree to such an arranged marriage?
For one brief moment Wood saw himself in front of the justice of the peace with Hannah. What if he were her husband, working beside her on the farm, acting as a father to Jeremy? He would be a better husband than Alfred Dumler. Mostly because he knew the important things any husband of Hannah’s should know. Like not to talk to her too early in the morning because she woke up crabby. And not to let her know that you were watching out for her even though you were. And what soft spots on her body could cause her to moan when caressed by a man’s fingers.
“Wood? Are you hearing anything I’m saying?” she demanded, interrupting his daydream.
“Sure,” he lied.
“Good. Then we can trade places.” She climbed out of the truck and came around to his side.
As he walked around the front of the truck, he told himself he was crazy to even be thinking about marriage to Hannah. He could make no plans for his future when he didn’t know what century he’d be in tomorrow. Even had he wanted to stay in 1998, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t be catapulted back to 1876. And there was still his unresolved guilt. No woman would want a husband who had been branded a murderer.
As Hannah patiently talked him through the operation of the truck, Wood kept telling himself he didn’t want to be a permanent fixture in 1998. However, one brush of Hannah’s breast against his shoulder as she leaned over to work the clutch had him feeling less sure of himself.
As the truck bucked like a bronc, Hannah laughed. “I think you need more practice.” It was the first time since he had been at the farm that she actually appeared to be having fun. Although he knew her smile could light up her face, he hadn’t realized that laughter would make her positively glow in a most captivating manner.
As they laughed together over his attempts to drive the truck, he realized that he was captivated by Hannah—a woman who needed no man in her life. A woman who wanted only to be his boss. A woman of a time period to which he didn’t belong. It was a sobering thought.
As he drove the truck back to the farm, he said little. He concentrated on working the clutch and the gas pedal to keep the truck running smoothly. When Hannah suggested she be the one who parked the vehicle in the shed, he willingly relinquished control.
“Is there anything else you’d like me to do?” Wood asked her as they stood outside the equipment shed.
“I’d like you to tell me where you were today. Wood, if you’re going to work for me, I need to know that I can depend on you.”
Wood wanted to reassure her and tell her she could count on him to get the job done. But the truth was she couldn’t depend on him being there. Time had seen to that. The helpless feeling that had plagued him ever since he had time traveled raged within him.
All of his life he had been a responsible person. Hell, he hadn’t even missed a single day of work until he had left in search of his sister. When he committed to a job, he saw it through to the end.
Only now that aspect of his life had been yanked right away from him. As long as he was caught in this time warp, he was not in charge of his life. It was an awful feeling—this uncertainty—especially for a man who had always been certain of where he was going with his life.
“I told you I had to take care of some personal business,” Wood evaded answering her question.
She sighed. “Wood, why did you really come to this farm?”
Her question caught him off guard. “You know I don’t remember what happened...” he trailed off, again avoiding saying too much.
“Okay, I’ve accepted that happened, but why did you stay?”
“Because I need work.”
“But why here? What makes a man leave Nebraska and answer an ad for help in a state hundreds of miles away?”
He shrugged. “Things happen.”
“What do you mean things happen?” He could see she was growing impatient.
He sighed. “If you must know, I’ve been looking for my sister. She ran off with a man and I’ve been trying to find her. That’s why I chose Minnesota.”
He ran a hand over the back of his neck to ease the tightness in his muscles.
“How old is she?”
“Eighteen. Too young to know what love is,” he said cynically.
Hannah didn’t contradict him. “And this man she’s with?”
“He’s in his thirties and an undesirable character.”
“Is that why she ran away? Because you disapprove of him?”
“Don’t make me sound like the bad guy here. If you met this man, you’d know why I’m co
ncerned. He’s trouble.” He wanted to tell her more, that his sister was involved with a member of the gang of outlaws who followed Jesse James, but how could he explain any of it without revealing that he was an 1876 man living in 1998? As much as he wanted to confide in Hannah, it was a risk he simply couldn’t take.
“That may be, but if she’s eighteen, she’s legally an adult. She’ll have to live with the choices she makes. I don’t think there’s probably much that you can do,” she said pragmatically.
“You may be right,” he agreed, but for a totally different reason.
“Do you have any idea where she might be?”
He shook his head. “I’ve traveled through Missouri and Iowa looking for her, but I haven’t had any luck this far. I’ve pretty much given up hope of finding her at all,” he confessed, silently adding, Until I go back to her life time.
“Maybe you should talk to Red Murphy. Even though she’s legally of age, he can probably run a trace on her,” Hannah suggested.
What Wood didn’t need was for the sheriff to become involved in any part of his life. He was sorry he had brought up the subject of his sister. “It’s something I prefer to do on my own. I’m not going to give up.”
She nodded in understanding. “Thanks for telling me. I know it’s not always easy to talk about something so personal.” She started toward the house but he stopped her.
“Hannah, did you ask because you’re my boss or because you’re a woman?”
“Both.”
ONCE THE HARVEST BEGAN, there was little time for anything else. Everyone rose early and went to bed late, even Gabby who took charge of the meals while Hannah worked in the field with Wood. When it rained one afternoon, Hannah took the opportunity to run errands in town.
She deliberately avoided walking past the Cut and Curl, not wanting to answer the questions she knew Marlis would ask about Wood. What Hannah didn’t expect was that she’d run into the beautician at the bank.
“Hey there, Hannah. Aren’t you looking good,” Marlis gushed as they met in the lobby.
“I look tired,” Hannah corrected her. “We’ve been harvesting past midnight every day this week.”
“By we I suppose you mean Wood Dumler and you, right?” There was a sparkle in her eye Hannah didn’t want to see.
“He has been helping out now that Caroline’s had her baby and Barry’s had to spend so much time at the hospital. Have you seen little Alicia? They said she might be able to come home next week,” Hannah remarked, wanting to direct the subject away from her hired hand.
“Oh-oh. You haven’t heard.”
“Heard what?”
“Barry and Caroline are going to have to take her to Rochester. She needs some sort of surgery. Something to do with her heart. They say it’s not as serious as it sounds, but it sure does sound awful, doesn’t it?”
“I didn’t realize there were additional problems. I’ll have to give them a call and see if there’s anything I can do.”
“Lucky for you Mr. Dumler was around to take Barry’s place.” Marlis refused to let the conversation stray from Wood.
“Yes, it was a good thing.” She reached in her purse for her keys. “You’ll have to excuse me, Marlis. I have a whole list of errands to run.” She tried to sidestep around the other woman, but Marlis wasn’t about to let her cut their conversation short.
She placed a hand on Hannah’s arm. “Wait. You just can’t run off without telling me all about him.”
“About who?” Hannah feigned ignorance.
“Wood Dumler.”
“There’s nothing to tell, Marlis,” she said on a note of boredom.
“Is that why Red’s been grumpier than a bear with a sore paw?”
“Wood is my employee, Marlis. Nothing more, nothing less,” she stated firmly.
The beautician eyed her curiously. “Are you sure about that? Because like I told you earlier, I think he’s awful cute, but I wouldn’t want to cut in on someone you’ve got first rights to.”
“I have no rights when it comes to Wood,” Hannah emphasized,
“Then why don’t you send him on down to Lenny’s Place on Saturday nights?”
“He’s free to do whatever he wants in his spare time,” Hannah said primly.
“I heard he’s been hanging out at the historical society over in Creston.”
That was news to Hannah.
“Apparently he’s interested in local history,” Marlis remarked.
“Doreen said she had to special order all sorts of old newspapers and things for him. He wanted to find out about the Jesse James Gang.”
Hannah shrugged. “So he’s interested in history.”
“Maybe he’s planning to stay awhile, what do you think?” she said with a sly grin.
“I hope he stays through harvest, anyway.”
“Janell over at the county courthouse said he was at the records office, too.”
Hannah knew the other woman was pumping her for information, but she refused to rise to the bait. “He must have had business there.”
“At birth and death records?”
Hannah herself was curious, but wouldn’t admit that to Marlis. “I believe it’s best not to pay attention to gossip. Now if you’ll excuse me, I really do need to get going.”
“Good luck with your harvest,” Marlis called after her retreating figure, but Hannah wasn’t thinking about combining. Her thoughts were on Wood. He hadn’t struck her as the kind of man who’d spend his free time at the historical society reading history books.
The visit to the courthouse could explain where he had gone the day he had borrowed Gabby’s car. But what had he hoped to find in records? Did he think his sister had died?
It was an awful thought. Hannah had to push it from her mind because she realized that she was in danger of getting emotionally involved with Wood Harris. Not a smart thing to do. He was just another employee.
Or was he?
“GABBY, WHAT ARE YOU doing here?” Wood asked when the old lady knocked on the screen door of the bunkhouse. Normally Jeremy was the one who woke him, but this morning Gabby’s was the first voice he heard.
“I need to talk to you, and I don’t want Hannah to hear,” she said through the screen.
Wood opened the door and ushered her inside, pulling up a wooden chair for her to sit on.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, sitting across from her on the edge of his cot.
“Now that you and Hannah are getting along so well, I think there’s something I should tell you. It’s about the wilt.”
“Will?”
She nodded soberly. “Her grandfather’s. You know that Hannah took over the farm when he died?
“Yes. She told me there’s been a Davis on this land ever since it was homesteaded.”
“That’s true, and it’s been one of the most prosperous farms in the county...until recently.”
“Are you saying Hannah’s not doing well?”
“Oh no, she’s doing a fantastic job, considering what she had to start with. The problem is not her fault. You see, my brother—her grandfather—left her in a pickle.”
Wood frowned. “He was in debt when he died?”
“No, not at all. He was one of the wealthiest farmers in the county.”
“Then why is Hannah having financial troubles?”
“Because he didn’t leave her any money. That’s all in a trust that she can only get if the terms of his will are met,” Gabby explained.
“So he gave her the farm yet he really didn’t give her the farm?”
Gabby nodded solemnly. “She’s had to take out all sorts of additional loans to keep the place going.”
Wood rubbed a hand along his stubbly jaw. “Can’t she meet the terms of his will?”
Gabby threw up her hands in frustration. “She won’t. She’s too stubborn.”
Wood knew Hannah was hardheaded, but he also knew she was intelligent. Surely she wouldn’t let an inheritance go simply because of
pride? “That doesn’t sound like the Hannah I know.”
Gabby harrumphed. “You haven’t heard the terms of the will.”
“Then perhaps you’d better tell me,” he urged her.
She lowered her eyes as she said, “In order to collect the bulk of the estate, she has to marry.”
“Ah.” Suddenly the picture was clear in Wood’s eyes. The reason Gabby had placed an ad for a mail-order groom was so that Hannah could collect her inheritance.
“You’ve been around Hannah long enough to know that she doesn’t think she needs a husband, and now that her grandfather has made it a necessity to have one in order to collect the rest of the money needed to run the farm, she’s determined to make a go of the farm without help from anyone.”
“Admirable, but not necessarily wise,” Wood commented with a wry grin.
“My thoughts exactly,” she said flashing him a smile. “I like you, Wood. We think alike. Of course, I knew that the minute I read your first letter. Now you can see why I had to advertise for a man.”
“You decided to find Hannah a groom so that she wouldn’t lose the farm.”
She nodded. “Yup. A man looking to be a partner on the farm. And you answered, bless your heart!” She flashed him an endearing grin of gratitude.
“If I marry Hannah, she collects her inheritance.”
Gabby nodded vigorously. “She’s entitled to it, and if my brother hadn’t been such a stubborn old man, he wouldn’t have put that stupid provision in the will. But he was as old-fashioned as the rest of his generation and he honestly didn’t think that a woman could run a farm this size by herself.”
“But didn’t Hannah prove that to him before he died?”
“Oh, no. When she and Jeremy moved back here, my brother ran the farm and no one—especially not a woman—was going to take over his duties. Despite all the help she gave him, he never would admit that she was just as capable as any man.”
Mail Order Cowboy (Harlequin American Romance) Page 15
