Prairie Cowboy. Linda FordЧитать онлайн книгу.
in Miss White. You saw her. Does she look the type to embrace frontier life?”
Gabe shrugged. “She came of her own free will, one would assume.”
“And I expect she will leave of her own free will before Christmas.”
“Conor, not every woman is like Irene. Some are even stronger than their men. Why, you only have to look down the road to the Faulks. It’s the old lady who does most of the work while the mister supervises and her son wanders about looking for who knows what. Sure, he says he has a farm somewhere but I have my doubts.”
His example supported Conor’s argument. “When was the last time you had a good look at Mrs. Faulk? She’s built like a small ox. Nothing pretty or soft about her.”
Gabe laughed loudly. “I bet all that padding’s plenty soft.”
“You know what I mean.”
Gabe stopped and faced him, forcing Conor to stop, too, or reveal his dislike of this conversation by ducking around him. He chose to face the man squarely.
“I know what you mean better than you do.” Gabe seemed intent on speaking his mind.
“Humph.”
“Yup, you’re scared you might get hurt again. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Not all women are like Irene.”
Conor refrained from voicing a warning that Gabe might soon enough discover for himself the true facts of the situation. “Look, are we going to stand around jawing all day or get this crop harvested? Could be you’re delaying so you don’t have to send for Diana.”
“I guess I’ll have to prove you wrong.” He bent his back and worked like this was the last day available.
The next two days Rae teased Gabe into giving her a ride to school and picking her up afterward. It interrupted their workday and made Conor uneasy. Sure, Rae liked Gabe’s attention but was this something else? He began to suspect Miss White had said or done something to make Rae think she must be escorted to school. On the third morning, he decided to test his theory.
“Rae, Gabe’s too busy to take you to school. You’ll have to walk. Same after school.”
“Okay, Pa.” She skipped off down the road.
Conor stared after her. There went that suspicion and with it the argument he’d used to deflect the memory of Miss White standing in this very room.
Gabe, as always honing in on his secret thoughts, punched him on the shoulder. “If you didn’t want me seeing Virnie every morning you only had to say so or take Rae yourself.”
Conor grabbed his hat. “Come on, let’s get to work.”
Several days later they worked on the last of Conor’s crop. He enjoyed the hard work. It kept him from thinking too deeply about anything but the grain, the cows and his plans for the fall. Like Virnie White. It seemed everything he said or did made him think of her.
“I warned Diana how cold Dakota winters can be and she says she will bring lots of warm clothes and make some extra warm quilts.”
If Gabe brought Diana out right after harvest, the two of them would share the cold winter months. Conor straightened and let his gaze rest on the house across the field. His house. His lonely house. When he’d moved West he had envisioned a home full of warmth and welcome. A flash of Virnie’s pretty smiling face flitted across his mind. He blinked and dismissed it. He wasn’t lonely enough for the kind of pain brought by sharing his life with a pretty woman.
Gabe watched him. “Virnie seems like a fine woman. I saw how she handles the kids. A fine woman, indeed. Perhaps you should get to know her better.”
Conor didn’t answer but he tossed bundles to Gabe fast enough to make him pant.
That night they scrounged a meal by opening several cans. They gave three plates a quick wipe and found a place to set them by pushing things off the table.
Conor saw the knowing look in Gabe’s eyes and silently dared him to mention the state of the house and suggest it needed the touch of a woman. “Now my crop is done I’ll make arrangements for Rae then we’ll go to your place.”
After they’d finished their simple meal, he rode over to the Joneses’ where he normally left Rae if he planned to be gone overnight. They lived close enough Rae could run back and forth to look after the cows and the chickens. But Mrs. Jones was down with something and said she couldn’t manage.
He returned home with the awkward news. “Can’t take her with us. She needs to tend to the chores.”
Rae edged forward. “You could get someone to stay here.”
Something about the look on her face warned Conor her suggestion wouldn’t be to his liking. “Maybe. But most everyone has chores at home.”
“I know someone who doesn’t have chores. Miss White.”
“No.” The word exploded from him.
Gabe chuckled. “You sound mighty scared and you won’t even be here.”
Conor did not want to picture her in his house, touching his belongings, filling his kettle, sweeping his floor. “No.”
Gabe laughed hard. “Man, what’s gotten into you? You’re jumpy as a spring colt. Virnie must really have gotten under your collar.”
“You can’t begin to understand. And her name is Miss White.”
“Ain’t what she told me.”
Conor knew an incredible urge to physically remove that teasing grin from Gabe’s face.
Gabe leaned closer, making it even more tempting. “Seems to me you’re overreacting, unless…” He dragged his sentence out as he sat back waving a finger. “You’re more interested in her than you’re willing to admit.”
“You’re plumb loco.”
“Then ask her.”
“Please, Pa, please.”
Conor sighed loudly, letting the pair know just how annoying they were. “Fine. I’ll ask. But don’t expect she’ll say yes.”
Virnie had been grateful to Conor’s friend for bringing Rachael to and from school. But it only lasted a few days. When Virnie got a chance to speak to Rachael privately, she learned the Faulk boy or man, whichever he was, had left again and taken the dog with him.
“Did you tell your pa about the dog?”
“Didn’t need to. He’s gone.”
“What about when he comes back?”
Rachael gave an unconcerned shrug. “Maybe he won’t.” And Virnie had to be content with that. So why did she stare down the road every morning until Rachael arrived and check every afternoon, sighing in disappointment when Rachael marched down the road, swinging her lunch pail and kicking up little clouds of dust? It wasn’t because she hoped Conor would ride up for his daughter. It couldn’t be. Because she wouldn’t allow herself such silly thoughts. His behavior was too much like her father’s. And forget the worry and concern she’d seen in his face over Rachael. It didn’t count.
And forget the way his probing look had stirred such an unfamiliar response deep inside in places she had never known existed. Now those places refused to be ignored despite her firmest efforts. The ignited feeling both frightened and thrilled her. With a decided shake of her head, she pulled her thoughts into submission and focused on the letter from Miss Price.
She skimmed over the suggestions on ways to help the Schmidt boys learn English more quickly and nodded as she hurried through the problems Miss Price had sent that would require George to do extra reading before he could solve the challenging arithmetic problems. She found what she really wanted at the end.
As to your questions about your little