The McKettrick Legend: Sierra's Homecoming. Linda Miller Lael
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to be stern with herself.
This was serious.
Down stairs the stove lids rattled.
Doss was building a fire in the cookstove, the way he did every morning. He would put the coffee on to boil, then go out to the barn to attend to the live stock. When he got back, she’d be making break fast, and they’d talk about how cold it was, and whether he ought to bring in extra wood from the shed, in case there was more snow on the way.
It would be an ordinary ranch morning.
Except that she’d behaved like a tart the night before.
Hannah tossed back the covers and got up. She wasn’t one to avoid facing things, no matter how awkward they were. She and Doss had lost their heads and made love. That was that.
It wouldn’t happen again.
They’d just go on, as if nothing had happened.
The water in the pitcher on the bureau was too cold to wash in.
Hannah decided she would heat some for a bath, after the break fast dishes were done. She’d send Tobias to the study to work at his school lessons, and Doss to the barn.
She dressed hastily, brushed her hair and wound it into the customary chignon at the back of her head. Just before she opened the bedroom door to step out into the new day, the pit of her stomach quivered. She drew a deep breath, squared her shoulders and turned the knob resolutely.
Doss had not left for the barn, as she’d expected. He was still in the kitchen, and when she came down the back stairs and froze on the bottom step, he looked at her, reddened and looked away.
Tobias was by the back door, pulling on his heaviest coat. “Doss and me are fixing to ride down to the bend and look in on the widow Jessup,” he told Hannah matter-of-factly, and he sounded like a grown man, fit to make such decisions on his own. “Could be her pump’s frozen, and we’re not sure she has enough firewood.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Hannah saw Doss watching her.
“Go out and see to the cow,” Doss told Tobias. “Make sure there’s no ice on her trough.”
It was an excuse to speak to her alone, Hannah knew, and she was unnerved. She resisted an urge to touch her hair with both hands or smooth her skirts.
Tobias banged out the back door, whistling.
“He’s not strong enough to ride to the Jessups’ place in this weather,” Hannah said. “It’s four miles if it’s a stone’s throw, and you’ll have to cross the creek.”
“Hannah,” Doss said firmly, grimly. “The boy will be fine.”
She felt her own color rise then, remembering all they’d done together, on the spare room floor, herself and this man. She swallowed and lifted her chin a notch, so he wouldn’t think she was ashamed.
“About last night—” Doss began. He looked distraught.
Hannah waited, blushing furiously now. Wishing the floor would open, so she could fall right through to China and never be seen or heard from again.
Doss shoved a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he said.
Hannah hadn’t expected anything except shame, but she was stung by it, just the same. “We’ll just pretend—” She had to stop, clear her throat, blink a couple of times. “We’ll just pretend it didn’t happen.”
His jaw tightened. “Hannah, it did happen, and pretending won’t change that.”
She inter twined her fingers, clasped them so tightly that the knuckles ached. Looked down at the floor. “What else can we do, Doss?” she asked, almost in a whisper.
“Suppose there’s a child?”
Hannah hadn’t once thought of that possibility, though it seemed pain fully obvious in the bright, rational light of day. She drew in a sharp breath and put a hand to her throat.
How would they explain such a thing to Tobias? To the McKettricks and the people of Indian Rock?
“I’d have to go to Montana,” she said, after a long time. “To my folks.”
“Not with my baby growing inside you, you wouldn’t,” Doss replied, so sharply that Hannah’s gaze shot back to his face.
“Doss, the scandal—”
“To hell with the scandal!”
Hannah reached out, pulled back Holt’s chair at the table and sank into it. “Maybe I’m not. Surely just once—”
“Maybe you are,” Doss insisted.
Hannah’s eyes smarted. She’d wanted more children, but not like this. Not out of wedlock, and by her late husband’s brother. Folks would call her a hussy, with considerable justification, and they’d make Tobias’s life a plain misery, too. They’d point and whisper, and the other kids would tease.
“What are we going to do, then?” she asked.
He crossed the room, sat astraddle the long bench next to the table, so close she could feel the warmth of his body, glowing like the fresh fire blazing inside the cookstove.
His very proximity made her remember things better forgotten.
“There’s only one thing we can do, Hannah. We’ll get married.”
She gaped at him. “Married?”
“It’s the only decent thing to do.”
The word decent stabbed at Hannah. She was a proud person, and she’d always lived a respectable life. Until the night before. “We don’t love each other,” she said, her voice small. “And anyway, I might not be—expecting.”
“I’m not taking the chance,” Doss told her. “As soon as the trail clears a little, we’re going into Indian Rock and get married.”
“I have some say in this,” Hannah pointed out.
Outside, on the back porch, Tobias thumped his boots against the step, to shake off the snow.
“Do you?” Doss asked.
CHAPTER SIX
Present Day
WHILE TRAVIS AND LIAM WERE in the barn, Sierra inspected the wood-burning stove. She found a skillet, set it on top, took bacon and eggs from the refrigerator, which was ominously dark and silent, and laid strips of the bacon in the pan. When the meat began to sizzle, she felt a little thrill of accomplishment.
She was actually cooking on a stove that dated from the nineteenth century. Briefly, she felt connected with all the McKettrick women who had gone before her.
When the electricity came on, with a startling revving sound, she was almost sorry. Keeping an eye on breakfast, she switched on the small countertop TV to catch the morning news.
The entire northern part of Arizona had been in undated in the blizzard, and thou sands were without power. She watched as images of people skiing to work flashed across the screen.
The telephone rang, and she held the portable receiver between her shoulder and ear to answer. “Hello?”
“It’s Eve,” a gracious voice replied. “Is that you, Sierra?”
Sierra went utterly still. Travis and Liam tramped in from out side, laughing about something. They both fell silent at the sight of her, and neither one moved after Travis pushed the door shut.
“Hello?” Eve prompted. “Sierra, are you there?”
“I’m…I’m here,” Sierra said.
Travis took off his coat and hat, crossed the room and elbowed her away from the stove. “Go,” he told her, cocking a thumb to ward the center of the house. “Liam and