Never Love A Lawman. Jo Goodman

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СКАЧАТЬ Gounod suffered no one to enter that he could not abuse with a wooden spoon and a tirade.”

      That caught Rachel’s attention and confirmed a suspicion she’d been harboring since she first met him. “New England,” she said. “I keep hearing something in your speech. Massachusetts. Boston? A Brahmin, I imagine. Oh, but that’s a good one.” She smiled when she saw him flush. It might have been the steam coming from the skillet that turned his sharply defined features ruddy, but she didn’t think so. She’d embarrassed him. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

      “You have a good ear.”

      “You do a credible job of disguising it, but Mrs. Maddox was from Boston. I was around her for a lot of years.” She stopped him when he looked expectantly at her, as if she might comment further. “That wasn’t an invitation to talk about me or that family. We were talking about you and yours.”

      Wyatt lifted the lid, turned the meat over, then put the lid to one side altogether. He gave the skillet a shake, flipping the potato slices. “My mother’s family could properly be called Brahmins. A couple of brothers and my sister, also. As for me, it’s generally held by the family that I take after my father.”

      “But that’s a compliment, isn’t it?”

      “Not if you heard my grandparents say it.” He removed the skillet from the stove and divided the contents evenly between them, ignoring Rachel’s protests that he should take the lion’s share. “You could stand to eat my portion as well,” he told her. “Colorado winter’s not kind if you have no meat on your bones.”

      “I’ll sit closer to the stove,” she said dryly.

      Wyatt tossed the skillet and spoon in the dishpan and sat. He motioned to her to pick up her fork and waited until she’d had her first bite before he did the same. “All right?” he asked.

      She swallowed. “Better than that. Delicious.” She intercepted his skeptical look. “No, really. It is.”

      “This is pretty standard fare. You must burn a lot of eggs.”

      She ducked her head a shade guiltily. “Seems like.”

      “You should try soft-boiling them.”

      Rachel quickly took another forkful of potato and onion and avoided looking at him.

      “Oh,” he said, drawing out the single syllable. “You were soft-boiling them this morning. What did you do? Forget about them?”

      “I was putting the hem in a dress for Mrs. Morrison.” She winced at her defensive tone and tacked on a more agreeable admission. “Yes, I forgot about them.”

      Wyatt glanced around the kitchen, most particularly behind him around the stove. “Looks like you got the mess scraped off the walls.” He looked up at the ceiling and pointed with his fork. “I’ll get that for you after.”

      “You don’t have to.”

      “Didn’t think I did, but I’ll do it just the same.” He tucked back into his food. “Maybe scrambled is the way to go for you. Even if they burn, they don’t explode.”

      Rachel knew he was amusing himself and decided it would serve him right if he choked on his next mouthful. She waited, hopeful that she’d have an excuse to pound him on the back. He was mannerly, though, and chewed his food thoroughly before swallowing. She blamed his Boston Brahmin mother for that.

      “I looked around your woodshed when I was out there,” he told her. “There’s more wood that needs splitting.”

      “I know.”

      “Who are you going to hire to do it for you?”

      “However that contract between you and Mr. Maddox reads, I don’t believe the intent was for you to insert yourself into every aspect of my life.” She paused to give him an opportunity to argue the point, but he merely continued eating. She sighed. “I haven’t asked around yet.”

      “Ned Beaumont could use the work.”

      Rachel was unsuccessful at masking her surprise. She’d been so certain that he meant to foist himself upon her.

      Wyatt correctly interpreted the reason her mouth was now slightly agape. “I have a job, Miss Bailey.” He pointed to the star on his vest. “Plenty to do.”

      Her lip curled. She fed his earlier words to her back to him. “There’s not a lot of criminal activity in Reidsville in case you hadn’t noticed.”

      “I’m sure you mean that as a compliment to law enforcement, and I thank you for it. I’ll pass it along to my deputy.”

      She stared at him a long moment, then simply shook her head and returned her attention to her meal.

      “So you’ll give Ned a try?” he asked. “He injured his leg in the mines a couple of years back. That’s why he mostly plays checkers with Abe and picks up the odd job now and again. You won’t be sorry for giving him a chance.”

      Rachel didn’t answer right away. It went against her grain to be pressed into a corner. “All right,” she said finally. “I’ll speak to him. Does he have any influence with Mr. Dishman?”

      “Couldn’t say. They’re both stubborn cusses. Why?”

      “It’s nothing important. Just a wayward thought.”

      “I don’t think he can convince Abe to stop proposing, if that’s what you were wondering.”

      Rachel beat an impatient tattoo against her plate with the tines of her fork. “Is there anything you don’t know?”

      He shrugged. “Plenty, I expect.”

      She didn’t believe him, not about what went on in Reidsville at any rate. She stabbed a triangle of ham and brought it to her mouth. “I gather that most folks know about Abe.”

      “Mmm.” He finished cleaning his plate and pushed it aside. “How’re you going to turn him down this time?”

      “Maybe I’m not.”

      Wyatt showed no reaction, just waited for her to come to her senses.

      “I haven’t decided yet,” she admitted. “You don’t think he’s really serious, do you?”

      “All you have to do to find out is say yes.”

      “I’ve thought of that, but I’m a little afraid.”

      His mouth took on a wry twist. “Trust that feeling.”

      Rachel smiled a little herself. “Thank you. I’ll do that.” She stood, gathered their plates, and carried them to the washtub; and she filled the kettle with water from one of the buckets and set it on the stove to heat. Setting her hip against the oaken washstand, she addressed Wyatt. “I appreciate what you’ve done, Sheriff, bringing me word about Mr. Maddox. I didn’t make it easy for you. I didn’t kill the messenger, but it wasn’t for lack of trying.” She spoke carefully, no trace of humor in her tone. She meant for him to understand how much she wanted him СКАЧАТЬ