“We might as well bed down,” Kade said.
Flora’s mouth dried. Her tongue turned to wood. Bed down? How could she spend the night? She pressed to the window. “I never meant to cause Ma and Pa worry,” she murmured to herself. A harmless ride. She’d done it many times, always making sure she returned home before her parents would grow concerned. Harmless fun, she’d said when Eve scolded her.
Thankfully, Kade didn’t remind her that her choices had led to this situation.
“It wasn’t my fault,” she said as if he had given his opinion. “It was because of that man following me.”
Kade still said nothing.
But she heard his accusation as clearly as if he’d shouted it. Riding alone invited unwanted attention. Oh, wait. Those were Pa’s words.
She pressed her forehead to the cold window and shivered. This was not going to turn out well unless she could make her parents believe she had spent the night alone.
Kade finally spoke. “You take the bed. I’ll get my bedroll and sleep by the stove and keep the fire going.”
She looked at the skiff of snow blowing in under the door. Her gaze followed Kade to the bedroom. It didn’t even have a door. Just a wall between the kitchen cupboards and the cot.
He returned with a roll of bedding.
“You’re going to sleep on the floor?”
“I’ve slept on far worse.”
“Really? Like what?” She didn’t truly care, but delayed having to make a decision about how she would spend the night. Could she stand at the window and stare out? Could she go to the barn and sleep with the horses? It would be cold. Worse, she would be alone should that man appear. She shivered at the idea.
He plunked his bedding to the floor and sat on top of it.
She stared at the grin on his face. Goodness, he looked almost happy. Almost nice.
“I grew up accompanying my father and brother back and forth on the Santa Fe Trail. I learned to build a campfire, cook over it, and sleep on the ground by the time I was eight years old.”
“The Santa Fe Trail.” She sat on the nearest kitchen chair. “That is so exciting. Tell me all about it.”
“Most days were monotonous. We hitched up and walked for the day. We stopped at noon for a quick meal. We stopped at dark for the evening meal. Even the food was monotonous. There were always chores to be done. It was hard work.”
“But there must have been exciting parts. Did you see buffalo? Indians? Raging flood waters?”
“Yup. Saw hailstorms and lightning like you wouldn’t think possible.”
She leaned forward. “What was the most exciting thing you did or saw?”
He looked past her to the window. “One time I wandered away, looking for berries. Or maybe just looking for something to beak the sameness.” His gaze met hers, his eyes full of humor. “After all, I was only a kid.” He continued to look at her as he spoke. “I found a den of fox kits. They were just old enough to be romping about. I sat and watched them for a while. They weren’t afraid of me and soon played around my feet. They even let me touch them.”
Flora stared at the way his memory wrapped his face in pleasure. Goodness, the man would be downright handsome if he learned to relax a bit. She released a longing sigh. “I would love to go on a wagon train journey.”
“Where would you go?”
“Oregon. California. New Mexico. No, wait. I think I’d like to go north to the British Territories.”
“There are rules there too. They have the North-West Mounted Police and I hear they enforce their laws strictly.”
She half scowled at him. “I am not a law breaker.”
“Just a rule breaker?”
She huffed. “Who made all those dos and don’ts about how to live? Especially when there is no reason for them.”
He studied her in hard silence.
She refused to blink before his stare. Just when her eyes began to water and she thought she couldn’t hold his gaze any longer, he spoke.
“There is always a reason for a rule if a person cares to look for it.”
Flora wanted to defend herself. Make him see that the things she did wouldn’t hurt anyone. Not even herself. But her conscience stung. If she hadn’t ridden so far, so fast, if she hadn’t dressed like a woman with no concern for her morals, she wouldn’t be in this situation where her morals would surely be judged if she couldn’t hide the truth. But more concerning to her was the knowledge that her parents would be beside themselves with worry.
She sprang to her feet and went to the window. Snow blew against the glass and built up on the outside ledge.
Another thud against the wall sent her heart into a frenzy. She turned to Kade. “You must have heard that.”
“I hear the wind. Is that what you mean?”
“There might be something or someone out there.”
He considered her with dark eyes and an accusing expression. “Perhaps your conscience is accusing you.”
“Of what?”
“Maybe of being the cause of bringing danger to yourself and worry to your parents.”
“Yeah, well, I never meant for this to happen. But I did hear something.” She pulled the pistol from her coat pocket again and put it into her trousers pocket. “And I don’t intend to sit here without being prepared.” She ignored the way his eyebrows raised as if to point out that she might have thought of this sooner. Like before she left home. And certainly before she’d gone so far from town. “I know I should have headed for home as soon as I noticed that man tailing me.”
“Why didn’t you?”
She pushed her hair back from her face. “Horrible hair.”
He laughed outright. “Certainly is unforgettable.”
“It makes people stare at me. And feel free to touch it. Aren’t there rules about touching people?”
“Suddenly you see the value of obeying rules?”
“I would never touch a stranger like that.” She shuddered.
“Why didn’t you turn back?”
“Guess it’s too much to hope you’d let that go?”
“Yup.”
She grinned at his lazy drawl. Then sobered as she admitted her reason. “I thought it would be a lark to outsmart the man.”
“Proving you were more clever than he?”
“It was a mistake. I admit it.” How had he managed to make her say that? Confessing a mistake was always so hard for her and yet here she was doing it when she didn’t have to.
“I hope you learned something.”
She grinned, thinking she could burst his bubble of satisfaction. “I learned lots. Like maybe I should have used my gun on him instead of running.” She patted her pocket.
Kade laughed, but it sounded more mocking than amused. “Do you even know how to shoot that thing?”
“Of course I do. Pa showed me.”
“How did you persuade him to do that?”
“Easy. I simply pointed out the fact that a rabid dog might attack Ma out in the garden when Pa was away, and if no one knew how to shoot the gun to protect her…” She lifted her hands as if nothing more needed to be said.
“Your poor pa.”
“It was the right thing to do.” She hoped her voice sounded airy.
Kade laughed. “Of course it was.”
She might have thought he was being critical but something in the way his eyes held hers made her wonder if he secretly admired her ability to get things done. A warm glow filled her heart to think someone might approve of her, even if secretly and momentarily.
“Flora, if you go to bed, I can get some sleep.”
She jerked to her feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be keeping you up.”
“Whoa. Settle down. I wasn’t meaning any criticism. Only that morning will likely bring a break in the weather.”
“I sure hope so.” She scuttled to the bedroom. “Makes me think you don’t appreciate my company,” she murmured. Truth was, she had enjoyed learning more about Kade. She knew he would never have talked to her so frankly while surrounded by her sisters.
“Could work both ways.”
She laid the pistol by the pillow and kicked off her boots. With a weary sigh she stretched out on the bed and pulled a quilt over herself. “Please, God,” she murmured. “Bring an end to the storm and help Ma and Pa not to worry overmuch.”
“You say something?” Kade called.
“Saying a prayer is all.”
“I hope it was for safety.”
“Shelter, safety, and adequate supplies.” She quoted his short grace and was rewarded by his deep-throated chuckle.
“Good night, Miss Kinsley.”
“Good night, Mr. Thomas.”
Another rumbling laugh.
Flora turned to her side and looked toward the other room. He had put out the lamp and total darkness surrounded her. But the little house was warm. She was safe. Tomorrow she would deal with the repercussions of being stranded overnight with a man she wasn’t married to.
Nor did she wish to be married to him, especially given how much he disapproved of her.
Kade lay on the floor, wrapped in his bedroll. He had stuffed a blanket under the door to stop the draft but the floor was still cold. However, the physical discomfort was nothing compared to the way his insides churned.
Preacher Kinsley would want to defend his daughter’s virtue. Kade had to agree with Flora that it was best if the preacher didn’t learn the exact details of her stay here.
He shifted about, seeking a comfortable position. Of all the people in the world, why did a red-haired rebel end up stranded in his house?
Something thudded against the side of the house. He’d heard the sound the previous two times. Likely a branch off a nearby tree.
He listened to make sure Flora didn’t hear it and come flying out with her gun aimed at the door.
He didn’t detect any shifting in the shadows and relaxed again. She must be asleep. He closed his eyes, knowing he’d likely lay awake all night. But sleep claimed him within a few minutes.
He couldn’t say how much later it was that a sound jerked him from his slumbers.
He sat up and stared into the darkness, the skin on his arms twitching. What had he heard?
There it was again. Crying? Flora cried? He shook his head. Somehow he had expected she was too tough for that.
The sobs grew. Then she called out something.
His nerves jangled. Was there someone in there?
“Flora,” he called. Then louder. “Flora, what’s going on?”
The sobbing ended on a gasp.
“What’s wrong?”
She cleared her throat. “Nothing.”
“I heard you cry out. Sounds like you were calling someone. Is there someone in there?”
She made a dismissive sound. “You mean you would sleep through an intruder entering your house and coming to this room? That’s not very reassuring.”
“No, of course I wouldn’t. But who were you calling?”
“It was a dream. I have them often. It means nothing.”
“Oh.” He got up and put more wood on the fire. “What were you dreaming about? Or who?”
“I don’t know. I never remember what my dream is about.”
He settled down again but the sound of her cries echoed in his head. “You seemed distressed.”
“Eve says the same. But I honestly don’t know what I was dreaming.”
“Don’t you find it unsettling?”
She didn’t answer immediately, and he wondered if she was crying silently. “Kade, it doesn’t bother me, because I don’t remember. What bothers me is you not letting me go back to sleep.”
A burst of laughter broke from his throat at her dry tone. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be quiet now.” Except he kept chortling to himself.
Flora called, “Sure doesn’t sound quiet to me.”
Her words served only to increase his amusement and he laughed loud and long. He sobered enough to hear a long-suffering sigh, and turned his face to his pillow to muffle his chuckles.
He woke the next morning to a cold house and hurried to start the fire.
Flora stepped from the room, her hair swept back into an untidy braid that she’d secured with a strip of rag. Did she carry bits with her for this purpose? He didn’t realize he stared at the thick braid until she touched it.
“It’s the best I could do under the circumstances.”
“Sorry. I was only wondering where you got the tie.”
Her eyes flashed that dark blue he’d noticed before. “Could be I tore it off the edge of your sheet.”
“You didn’t. You wouldn’t.” He sputtered his words.
She tipped her head back and laughed, a merry sound that made him think the sun had broken through. But a glance at the window showed it to be frost covered.
“Didn’t say I did. Just said I could have.” She chuckled as he stared at her. “It’s off the hem of my shirt.”
With a bemused shake of his head, he went to the window and scraped a peephole. “It’s still storming. Can’t see as far as the corner of the house.”
“It’s early yet. Surely it will stop snowing when the sun comes up.”
“True. In the meantime, how does coffee sound?”
“Kaw-fee.”
“What?”
Her wide-eyed innocent look almost fooled him until he realized she had answered his question literally. Her dead-pan humor was so unexpected that he blinked once, twice, and then laughed. “I think it will taste better than it sounds.”
“Good. What’s for breakfast? I could cook something. What do you have besides potatoes and eggs?”
“That was the last of my eggs until I get to town again. I really should get some hens, but who would look after them when I’m out on the range?”
She opened the cupboard doors. “You said you had adequate supplies.”
He reached past her to indicate what he had. “Beans, flour, cornmeal…” He listed all his supplies. “The basics.”
“Seems you’re into basics both in prayers and supplies.” She turned and came face to face with him, his arm still stretched over her shoulder.
He couldn’t be sure but guessed it was shock that widened her eyes. Shock and surprise at discovering him so close. He had only to lower his arms to embrace her. Which he was not going to do. Ever.
He quickly stepped away and tried to remember what they had been talking about. Yes, the basics. “It’s all I need.”
She turned back to the cupboards. “I’ll make some griddle cakes if you have syrup or jam to go on them.”
“I have syrup.” He retrieved the tin from the far cupboard, away from Flora and the awkwardness between them. He set it on the table as she mixed up batter. She eyed the frying pan with its layer of bacon fat then shrugged and dropped batter into the hot fat.
“How long you been here?” she asked.
He gladly turned to normalcy. “About a year.”
“You a homesteader?” She began to pile pancakes on a plate.
“Nope. A rancher. I have a small herd.”
“Oh yes, I remember you mentioned that you and your brother wanted to ranch together.”
“I made it. He didn’t.” He kept his tone as flat as the pancakes piling up on the plate. He’d learned to ignore the pain that shafted through him at every remembrance of Esau.
“I expect you miss him still.”
“Every day.”
“Where are your cows during this storm?”
“I hope they’ve found shelter in the trees south of here.”
She gave him a considering look. “Seems to me ranching is risky business.”
He wondered momentarily at the way she studied him. “It can be.”
She flipped three more pancakes.
His mouth began to water.
“You sure it’s wise to take such a risk?”
“It’s worth it.” He kept his eyes on the plate of pancakes as she carried it to the table and sat down across from him.
“So you’d agree that some risks are worth taking?”
“I’d agree with that.”
“Well, then, it seems we are finally agreed. Are you going to say grace?” She bowed her head.
“Agreed on what?”
“Say grace,” she murmured.
“I can’t.”
Her head came up. “Why not?”
“Because I have an unanswered question consuming my thoughts.”
She shrugged. “Seems a man of your convictions should be able to control such things.” Her eyes were darkest blue, almost emotionless, and yet he wasn’t convinced that she wasn’t turning his words into something they didn’t mean.
He sucked in air and bowed his head. “Thanks for the food and a warm house. Amen.”
“Amen,” she echoed and speared herself four pancakes, dowsing them in syrup.
He followed her example but paused before he lifted a mouthful. “I’m sure we agree on many things, but what were you meaning?”
She waved her fork, indicating he should wait until she’d swallowed. “Seems obvious to me. We agree that some risks are worth taking.”
He enjoyed a mouthful of breakfast as he mulled over his answer. “Trouble is, I don’t think we mean the same thing. I was talking about ranching, where a man faces challenges in the hopes of building up something solid.”
“But a storm, disease, animals, even rustlers, could leave you with nothing. You could be hurt. Get sick. Lose everything in a fire.”
“Aren’t you the perfect pessimist?”
She shrugged. “Don’t you see? You can live in fear of what might be, or you can embrace life and enjoy it. I think God meant for us to do the latter.” She said it with a finality that indicated the conversation was over in her mind.
“Without regard for the consequences, I suppose?”
She faced him squarely. “No, I think a person should consider the risks involved, but that shouldn’t be the only factor in a decision.”
He shook his head. “I doubt you and I will ever agree on this subject, but I will be interested in seeing how you like the consequence of your choice to ride so far from town yesterday.”
She glanced at the window. The outdoors was a foggy white indicating the sun had risen. “It’s still storming.” She sighed.
They finished eating and carried their dishes to the cupboard to wash up.
Once they finished, Flora went to the window. “What is Pa going to say?”
“I can guess. I’m sure you can too.” If this storm lasted all day and into another night… Well, the preacher was going to demand more of an explanation than Flora had prepared.
“No.” She rocked her head back and forth. “He can’t make us marry. We don’t even like each other. You think I’m irresponsible and I think…”
“What?” How did she view him?
“I think you’re afraid to live life to the full.”