The Wrong Cowboy. Lauri Robinson

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ not in a very long time. Besides the shivers racing up her arms, her throat locked tight. Peace and quiet. Blinking back the tears threatening to fall in a way they hadn’t done for years, Marie turned her gaze to the horses and focused on the harnesses going up and down, trying to forget. Or just not let the memories come forward. She’d been sent back to the orphanage because of those words. That had been years ago, she told herself, and could not happen now. Could never happen again.

      It took effort, lots of it, and by the time everything was suppressed, Marie was breathing hard and deep, as if she’d just run several miles. She’d been here before, this emotionally exhausted, but not in a very long time.

      “Here.”

      Marie blinked at the canteen before her chin.

      “Take a drink,” he said.

      Her hands shook, but the tepid water flowing down her burning throat was such relief Marie took several swallows before worrying about the few droplets that dribbled down her neck. Her breathing was returning to normal, and by the time she’d replaced the cap and wiped away the droplets, she had much more control.

      “Better?”

      “Yes,” she managed, handing back the canteen. She couldn’t bring herself to glance his way, not even as his gaze blistered the side of her face. “Thank you.”

      “They’ll be fine,” he said.

      His voice was hushed, soft and even kindhearted, which threatened the control she’d mustered. “I’m sure you’re right,” she answered as firmly as possible. He was right. It took more than a few hours before a person’s stomach ached. A day or more until the pain became so strong that cramps set in. Those memories weren’t easily repressed, but they did remind her she was glad to have been sent back to the orphanage all those years ago.

      “Look at that,” he said, one hand stretched out, gesturing toward the land covered with brown grass that went on for miles.

      She’d been shocked at first, by the landscape so different from that of the city. Barely a green blade could be found, but she’d grown accustomed to it since arriving in Huron. That’s how life was, a series of changes one eventually got used to.

      Marie also understood he was trying to redirect her thoughts, and she let him. No good ever came from dwelling on the past.

      “It’s a deer,” he continued, “and two fawns.”

      It wasn’t until the animal turned and leaped that Marie noticed two smaller ones bounding through the waist-high grass. “How did you see them?” she asked. “The grass is so tall.”

      “Practice, I guess.”

      “They’re so graceful,” she commented, watching until the deer disappeared. “Do they always run like that? Almost as if they’re flying?”

      “Yes, deer are pretty swift animals. Haven’t you seen any before?”

      “Just pictures.”

      He seemed different, quiet, thoughtful, and the moments ticking by threatened to set her back to thinking, so she added, “There aren’t any deer in the city.”

      “The city being Chicago?”

      “Yes.”

      “You lived there your entire life?”

      “Yes,” she answered.

      “Never left?”

      “Not until boarding the train for Huron.” Marie bit her tongue then, hoping she hadn’t just provided him with an opening to start asking questions again. Partner or not, she wouldn’t explain everything to anyone but Mr. Wagner.

      “What are their names?”

      She had to glance his way, and was a bit taken aback by the grin on his lips. It was really only a fraction of a grin, but friendly nonetheless. How could he do that? Go from formidable to pleasant like someone flipping a coin? Thankful her spinning mind could form a question, she asked, “The children?”

      “Yes. What are their names? How old are they?”

      All on its own, a smile formed. The simple thought of her wards did that all the time. “Terrance is the oldest. He’s ten. Next is Charlotte, she’s nine, and Samuel is seven. Beatrice is six and the twins, Charles and Weston, are four.”

      “And why do you have them?”

      Her initial response was to state that it was none of his business, but, in fact, he had come to collect them and was delivering them to Mr. Wagner’s ranch. A small portion of an explanation wasn’t completely out of the question.

      After a glance backward that showed the children were indeed reading—well, the older ones were, Weston and Charles had stretched out between the others and were dozing—Marie leaned toward him slightly, so she could speak as softly as possible. “Their parents perished in a fire.”

      “I’d heard that,” he answered just as quietly.

      “Where?”

      “From the ticket taker at the train depot.”

      “Oh.” That wasn’t alarming. She had made mention of it, just so the man would understand her delay in payment more clearly.

      “That doesn’t explain why you have them,” he whispered, leaning closer yet.

      Marie had to swallow and sat back a bit. “I was hired as their nursemaid last year, after the one they’d had for several years got married.”

      “Is this your first job? The first time you’ve been a nursemaid?”

      Ruffled slightly, wondering if he was suggesting she wasn’t capable, she squared her shoulders. “It was my first permanent position, but I graduated at the top of my class five years ago.”

      “Whoa,” he said. “I can tell you’re well trained and confident in what you do.”

      “Thank you,” Marie said, although a lingering doubt had her wondering if that had been a compliment or not. Men were difficult creatures to understand. This one more so than any other she’d encountered.

      “How old are you?” he asked.

      That was an inappropriate question, but being in the wild as they were, he was their only hope of survival, so she should attempt to be civil to him. Besides, he probably didn’t know the difference between appropriate and inappropriate questions. “I’m twenty.”

      A brow was lifted as he asked, “Twenty?”

      She nodded.

      “So, if you graduated five years ago, and just got this job last year, what did you do in between?”

      “I worked for several families,” Marie answered. “Just for short terms, helping out as families looked for permanent nursemaids or while others were ill and such.” She attempted to keep the frustration from her voice. Moving from family to family, staying only a few СКАЧАТЬ