Rebel Outlaw. Carol ArensЧитать онлайн книгу.
Colt stood on the front porch watching Holly Jane trying to hammer a tarp to the carousel.
There were some things that needed setting straight, and he’d begin with breakfast.
The old man hadn’t sold him the ranch with the expectation that his granddaughter would go hungry.
From the looks of things, she also planned to go cold. The temperature might be pleasant right now with the sun all warm and fuzzy, but once it set the night would turn blistering cold in a hurry.
He trotted down the steps with her breakfast plate, watching while she struggled with a hammer that was too heavy and a nail that was too big.
What did that little speck of a girl think she was going to do, live on the carousel?
That didn’t fit with the vow he had made to her granddaddy. He was to care for the spinster...it was written in black and white right on the contract, as legal and binding as all the rest of it. Even if it weren’t a legal obligation, he had given his word. He and William had shaken hands on it.
While it was clear that Holly Jane wasn’t the dried prune that her grandfather had hinted at, he meant to live up to their agreement...and he meant to do it in the house.
He watched her struggle while he crossed the yard. One time she nearly had the tarp tacked up, but the wood was hard and the hammerhead slipped. The nail went flying.
The odd little pig scurried after it, her beribboned ear flapping.
“Don’t you eat that, Lulu!” Holly Jane rucked up her skirt and hurried down the short ladder she had been standing on.
“I never should have sneaked you out of the butcher’s shed!” Holly Jane was so intent on chasing Lulu that she didn’t even notice him coming toward her.
The pair of them wove in and out of wooden horses, fancy carved benches, a lion and an elephant.
Before he knew it, Colt was no longer frowning. Watching the pig’s flapping bow and the woman’s bouncing yellow skirt would turn the sourest day sweet.
But that’s what Holly Jane specialized in, he reckoned, sugar and spice. He couldn’t deny that watching the curvy figure of his charge romping about was a treat. He didn’t even have to visit her shop in town to enjoy a sweet treat.
Too soon the chase ended and Holly Jane shot her pig a triumphant grin. She held the nail high with her delicate-looking fingers gripping it tight.
She climbed the short ladder, swinging yellow skirt and hammer in hand, clearly believing she would nail the tarp to the pole. Too bad the hammer was still too heavy and the nail too large.
The ladder began to wobble. Holly Jane dropped the hammer but held the tarp in place with her fingers.
He reached for the knife slung across his back and drew it from its sheath. He hoped Aunt Tillie was watching so she’d know how many uses his weapon had. She’d harped on him time and again to remove it at home. The trouble was, a man never knew when he might need its services.
Like right now.
Colt let the knife fly and watched with satisfaction as the blade pinned the tarp to the pole. And hell...there was even more satisfaction hearing Miss Sunbeam give a little screech.
She hopped off the ladder and glared at him.
“You could have cut my hand off!”
“Once we’re better acquainted you’ll know the blade was as good as a mile away.”
He walked past her, picked up the hammer and plucked the nail from her fingers. Reaching over her head, he tacked the tarp to the pole with one blow then plucked his knife from the wood.
She tried to hide it, but Miss Holly Jane didn’t seem pleased with his help. That was something she’d have to get used to since he was legally bound to provide it.
“We’re neighbors and nothing more,” she said. “I don’t reckon I’ll see all the things you can do with your blade.”
The plate of food wobbled in his hand. While she blinked at him in virtuous innocence, he imagined all sorts of provocative images involving “his blade.”
He was fairly certain that William Munroe had not meant for him to seduce his granddaughter. Damn far from it... He was supposed to protect her from the advances of greedy suitors.
“Eat your breakfast, Holly Jane.” He set the plate on the floor of the carousel.
She speared a glance at the cold food then at him. She plunked down on the creaky boards and set the plate in her lap. He sat down beside her.
“Look,” he said, watching her nibble a biscuit, “I know you don’t want us here. It must have been tough to find out your grandpappy had sold the place out from under you.”
“I’ll admit, I cried for a solid week.” She looked at him with eyes the color of whiskey stirred in cocoa. “But you should know that I plan to buy it back from you as soon as I can.”
“I ain’t sellin’, Sunshine.” He was sorry that her dream had died with her grandfather, but his had only begun. “But you’ve got a home here as long as you want it.”
“I have a carousel for a home. You, Mr. Travers, are a guest on my front porch.”
“There’s things worse than a carousel to inherit.” A family of criminals, for one. “All that your grandfather wanted was for you to be safe. He knew the Folsoms and the Broadhowers would be after you, so he sold the land to me. Your circle of land being smack in the center of my ranch, guarantees that.”
“I believe that we need to set down some neighborly rules.” Holly Jane put down her plate after eating only the biscuit. “I need to pass through your land to go to town. You need to pass through my land to get to the barn. We should agree to allow that.”
“I appreciate that. You walk freely over my land and I’ll walk freely over yours.”
“Not freely, but to and from. I’ll keep to myself and you keep to yourself.”
“Grannie Rose and Aunt Tillie have their hearts set on mothering you.” She wanted that. He saw the need cross her expression like a ripple on water. “Come back to the house, Holly Jane.”
“I’ll stay on my own land, thank you very much.”
She stood up, clearly dismissing him and his invitation.
“We’re knee-deep in October. It’ll be cold as hell tonight.”
“Don’t worry. Granddaddy built your house to be snug and warm.”
She turned her back on him. Hell and damn... Nothing he said to the woman would make any difference.
She picked up her hammer and another nail.
He wouldn’t help her this time. When she got cold enough she’d come inside.
* * *
At midnight, Holly Jane wrapped the tarp about her body and watched smoke rise from the chimney of the house. The imagined warmth inside made her shiver even more.
The wind had begun to howl at sundown and picked up velocity ever since. Lulu had felt no shame in squealing outside the kitchen door until Grannie Rose let her in.
The little traitor had gone inside gleefully and was, no doubt, warm and coddled by now. At least the raccoon, Mayberry, hadn’t deserted her. The sweet creature sat beside her, no doubt wondering what the foolish human was doing sitting out after dark in the cold.
Defying Granddaddy’s wishes is what.
Colt Travers might believe that her grandfather had sold him the ranch to protect her from the Broadhowers and the Folsoms, but she knew better.
She had been raised by the man and knew him like she knew herself. Colt Travers was not here to protect her from this or that groom...