High Country Bride Read Online Free Page B

could she expect them from any stranger? Especially this man she hardly knew, who seemed harsh, cold and hard-hearted?
    And, worse, what if he brought in the law?
    “You can’t keep living out of a wagon,” he said, still angry, the cords straining in his neck. “Animals have enough sense to keep their young cared for and safe.”
    Yes, it was as she’d thought. He intended to be as cruel as he could be. She spun on her heels, pulling up all her defenses, determined to let his hurtful words roll off her. She grabbed the towel the children had neatly folded and tossed it into the laundry box in the back of the wagon.
    “Mrs. Nelson. I’m talking to you.”
    “Yes, I know. If you expect me to stand there while you tongue-lash me, you’re mistaken. I have packing to get to.” Her fingers were clumsy as she hefted the bucket of water she’d brought for washing—she wouldn’t need that now—and heaved.
    His hand clasped the handle beside hers, and she could feel the life and power of him vibrate along the thin metal. “Give it to me.”
    Her fingers let go. She felt stunned as he walked away, easily carrying the bucket, which had been so heavy for her. Quietly, methodically, he put out the small cooking fire. He did not seem as ominous or as intimidating—somehow—as he stood in the shadows, bent to his task, although she couldn’t say why. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t acting the way she was used to men acting. She was quite accustomed to doing all the work.
    James scurried over, clutching his wooden horse, to watch. Daisy hung back, eyes wide and still, taking in the mysterious goings-on.
    He was different when he was near to them, she realized. He didn’t seem harsh, and there was no hint of anger—or, come to think of it, any other emotion—as he shook out the empty bucket, nodded once to the children and then retraced his path to her.
    “Let me guess.” He dropped the bucket onto the tailgate, and his anger appeared to be back. Cords strained in his neck and jaw again as he growled at her. “If you leave here, you don’t know where you’re going and you have no money to get there with?”
    She nodded. “Yes, sir.”
    “Then get you and your kids into the wagon. I’ll hitch up your horses for you.” His eyes were cold and yet not unfeeling as he fastened his gaze on hers. “I have a shanty out back of my house that no one’s living in. You can stay there for the night.”
    “What?” She stumbled back, and the solid wood of the tailgate bit into the small of her back. “But—”
    “There will be no argument,” he snapped, interrupting her. “None at all. I buried a wife and son years ago, what was most precious to me, and to see you and them neglected like this—with no one to care…” His jaw clenched again, and his eyes were no longer cold.
    Joanna didn’t think she’d ever seen anything sadder than Aiden McKaslin standing there in the slanting rays of the setting sun.
    Without another word, he turned on his heels and walked away, melting into the thick shadows of the summer evening.

Chapter Three
    A s he led the way across his land, it was all Aiden could do not to look behind him. He knew the covered wagon was following him across the rolling prairie, but he steeled his resolve. He would not turn around and see that woman alone, thin from hunger and pale with strain. He could not take any more, so he contented himself with listening to the plod of the tired horses’ hooves on the sun-baked earth, and the rhythmic squeak of the wagon’s rear axel.
    Yep, he didn’t like this one bit, but he hated even worse the notion of sitting home tonight, comfortable and safe and fed, knowing that a nice woman and her children were unprotected and uncherished and alone.
    No, it just wasn’t right. Emotion clogged his throat, making it hard to swallow, making it hard to breathe. He refused to let his gaze wander to the east, where the family cemetery lay in shadow, the headstones tall