The Lone Cowboy of River Bend. Lori Connelly
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swept the area while he crossed the yard. Boards were missing from the corral. The chicken coop showed a number of clumsy repairs. A closer look at the house as Nate approached it revealed a porch on the verge of collapse. Evidence of decay was everywhere.
How many bad days has Jed had?
Nate caught up with Hannah as she opened the door. While an answer to the question dominating his thoughts would be nice, he didn’t ask her about Alice’s son again. The young woman reminded him of a nervous horse, visibly wary, although he doubted she’d care for his comparison. Patience was in order. Thankfully, he developed that virtue working with wild mustangs.
Inside the small home, Hannah stopped a step from the door and removed her coat. She hung it on a peg on the wall. With a silent gesture, she invited Nate to do the same before unwinding an old, faded shawl from her shoulders.
Hannah’s easy grace was a pleasure to behold. He couldn’t help watching subtly as she removed bulky clothing, revealing the soft swell of her chest and generous curves of her hips. His gaze lingered on her form, clad in a plain, brown work dress, several seconds before moving up to focus on hair the rich red of autumn leaves. It’d been a while since he’d taken the time to enjoy the beauty of a woman and he found himself on the verge of being rude.
Nate shifted his gaze, staring at the wall while shrugging off his duster, but couldn’t resist another glance at her after hanging it up. This time Hannah caught him, their gazes collided as she draped her shawl on top of her coat. She tilted her head to one side, puzzlement filling eyes the shade of the chocolate candy Alice made at Christmas. A blush bloomed over her cheeks, charming him. He couldn’t look away.
“Excuse me,” she whispered, turning her back to him, then walking away.
His ill manners sank in. He knew how uncomfortable being gawked at felt. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right,” Hannah called over her shoulder, her tone polite but a little cool as she crossed the room. “Please, have a seat at the table.”
Believing further apologies would make matters worse, Nate moved to do what she’d asked without offering another. He looked around the space while heading for the decent-sized, rough-hewn table with six chairs sitting in the center. Along the wall to his right there were three doors and on the opposite one some shelves, hanging pots, a cupboard, and a small cook stove. Motion caught his eye. Hannah stood near the fireplace, in the middle of the wall directly across from the door. Within it, he noticed a pitiful pile of half-burnt sticks on top of dying coals, which explained why the air inside wasn’t much warmer than outside.
Nate eased his frame onto one of the rickety wooden chairs, still watching his companion. From a small stack of fir rounds, Hannah added one onto the pile with careful precision. The sway of her skirt drew his attention as she bent over, blowing on the coals. The fire grew, showing off crackling flames after a few minutes of coaxing.
Hannah straightened and he brought his gaze up as she turned to face him. “Would stew be all right?”
Be charming. Put her at ease. Think of something Rowdy might say. “Yes.” Feeble, Nathaniel. Try again. Use more than one word. “It would.”
“Good.” Although her tone remained polite, there was a hint of amusement in her short answer.
Not charming but, maybe, entertaining.
Never good with small talk, Nate chose to remain silent as she walked over to the cupboard. Hannah reached up, took a spoon and bowl out, then pulled a ladle off a nail on the wall. She turned and, from a pot left warming on the black metal stove, scooped him up a portion. Given the cozy size of the room, it took the woman only a couple of steps to reach his side, placing the meal before him a moment later.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Would you like some coffee?”
“Yes.” Eagerness seeped through his voice. Nate hadn’t bothered with a campfire in the morning and was craving the bitter brew. “Please.”
Wordlessly, Hannah returned to the stove. She took two cups off a shelf and filled them both from a coffee pot beside the stew pan. As she walked back, Nate glanced down at the contents of the bowl. He dipped his spoon in and stirred, inhaling the fragrant scent of herbs. Thick with vegetables but no sign of meat, the sight was consistent with serious financial troubles.
After setting a cup down by his bowl, Hannah sat at the other side of the table, directly across from him. “Aren’t you going to have some?”
“I’ll wait for Alice and the children.”
“Then I’ll wait too.”
“No need.” Hannah shook her head. “You can have a second helping with them.”
“But-”
“There’s plenty. Please.”
“But I-”
“I insist.”
“Okay,” Nate agreed, unwilling to offend her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Hannah sipped her coffee while he ate. For the next several minutes there was no pressure to converse. The silence between them felt almost comfortable. By the time he finished, Nate had relaxed a little.
“It was very good.”
“Thank you.” Hannah rose to her feet then picked up his bowl, taking it over to the worktop of the cupboard. His eyes followed the gentle movement of her hips as she walked away. Near the stove, she waved toward the coffee pot. “Want more?”
Nate promptly lifted his gaze. “Please.”
As she folded a cloth around the pot’s handle Nate became conscious he was staring at her. He shifted in his seat and looked over at the fire. The flames barely licked the wood. It was still a bit chilly inside.
Should I offer to build it up? The soft falls of her boots on the worn wood floor announced Hannah approaching. Nate almost spoke, then hesitated. If it’s small to conserve wood, offering may embarrass her. A second later, she stood beside him, filling his cup, the sleeve of her dress brushing against the skin of his wrist and the back of his hand.
Heat whispered through his veins. Hannah smelled sweetly of fresh air and flowers. He breathed in, leaning ever so slightly closer. Roses, she smelled like roses. The scent was a favorite of Nate’s. He nurtured several blooming plants on the south side of his cabin, grown from cuts of his mother’s garden.
Hannah moved away. Feeling the absence of her warmth, Nate wrapped his hand around the mug, welcoming the burning heat the fresh brew brought. The pretty woman intrigued him. Pursuing her was a tempting thought. Seconds later, he dismissed the idea.
It’d be pointless. Nate squeezed the mug tighter and raised it off the table, staring down at the steaming liquid. He had to keep this attraction under control. She wasn’t a woman who’d welcome a casual flirtation and attempting anything more serious would be foolish. In his experience, women didn’t care for the isolated way of life he loved.
Nate took a long drink of his coffee as Hannah reclaimed her seat. Her lips curved in a shy smile, causing his heart to beat a fraction faster. Despite knowing it wasn’t wise, he found himself offering her a brief grin in return.
Although he sensed Hannah had a lot on her mind, she didn’t break the silence. The quiet between them didn’t seem to bother her. In Nate’s opinion, it was a rare and attractive trait. Few people he knew resisted making casual conversation. Enjoying her company, he sipped his coffee over the next several minutes.
A noise from another room broke the pleasant mood. Nate put his cup down as he looked in the sound’s direction. He’d thought they were alone. Silence followed. He turned his attention back to Hannah a moment later. A shadow flickered in her lovely eyes then her gaze skittered off, away from his.
“Who’s