Her Cowboy's Twin Blessings. Patricia Johns

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СКАЧАТЬ and she regarded him in silence for a moment.

      “Now, I’ve got some maps of this land,” Casey said. “I don’t know if it’s anything you haven’t seen yet—”

      “That would be great,” Ember said. “You never know.”

      Casey turned away from her and headed for a cupboard in the corner. He opened the door with a squeak, and a roll of paper fell out. He used the toe of his boot to lift it, and grabbed it with his free hand. He passed it back toward her. “That might be one. Hold on...”

      He rummaged a bit, handed back three more rolls of paper, then closed the cupboard and readjusted the baby on his shoulder again.

      “Will, you’re going to have to sit in that little chair of yours.”

      Ember watched as Casey pulled out a wire-framed bouncy chair from beside the couch, then arranged the baby in it. Little Will turned his head to the side and stared at a patch of sunlight on the wall. Then Casey pulled out a second bouncy chair, and relief welled up inside her at the thought of putting Wyatt down.

      She was already dreading this—the baby minding. These tiny boys brought up feelings she wasn’t ready to deal with. Or rather, feelings she’d been trying to deal with rather unsuccessfully. It was supposed to get easier over time—that was what they said—but it hadn’t.

      “Here we go, Wyatt,” she murmured, bending to put the baby into the chair next to his brother, but as she tried to put him down, Wyatt’s little face screwed up into a look of displeasure and he opened his mouth in a plaintive wail.

      “Or not.” She stood back up and the crying stopped. She looked into Wyatt’s little face, and he peered back at her. “You sure?”

      “Guess he likes you, too,” Casey said. “Never mind. I’ll open these up.”

      Ember’s heart sped up as she looked from the baby to his guardian, and then back again. This was not a good plan, but what was she going to do? She’d already agreed to this, and if she backed out, she’d only cement her reputation as the heartless city girl who’d come to ruin everyone’s lives.

      Casey opened one of the rolls and revealed a map. “So what are you looking for, exactly?”

      “The journal mentions Milk River and some creeks that ran off it.”

      “Milk River runs for over seven hundred miles,” he said, glancing back at her. “We only have about fifty miles of Milk River on this ranch.”

      She nodded. “I think it might be the right fifty, though. The creeks were named after local wildlife—Beaver Creek, Muskrat Creek and Goose Creek.”

      Casey looked closer, chewing on the side of his cheek. “This here is Milk River.” He pointed with one calloused finger, following a line along the map. “There are a couple of creeks, but they’re not named. Not officially.” He rerolled the map, then picked up another one. He scanned it, rolled it up again and picked up the third. “Here we go. That’s Milk River again—”

      Ember leaned closer to look. The line of the river meandered down the map, and there were about fifteen little lines snaking off. The darker of the lines had names, and cocking her head to one side, she could read them.

      “Allan Creek. Wallace Creek. Burns Creek. Trot’s Creek...” She sighed. Then there were the lighter lines that had no names. She’d seen this map already online. Back in the city, she’d been looking for mention of the Beaver, Muskrat and Goose creeks, but no one seemed to have record of them. Maybe those names hadn’t stuck.

      “Milk River goes up into Canada, you know,” he said. “I don’t have the maps for that.”

      Then her eye landed on one creek name she hadn’t seen before that brought a hopeful smile to her lips. “Look at that one!” She pointed. “Harper Creek!”

      “That’s familiar?” Casey asked with a frown.

      “My mother’s last name was Harper. That’s the family name.”

      “Hmm.” He nodded. “Okay.”

      “What’s the matter?” Wyatt was getting heavy in her arm, and she shifted him to a new position.

      “There are a lot of Harpers around here,” he said. “They might be relatives of yours, though.”

      She’d never heard of them, if they were. It might be nothing more than a coincidence. Or a creek named much more recently—a random moniker slapped onto a tiny creek in honor of some locals.

      “We aren’t Canadian. My mother always said that the family had settled exactly fifty miles from the mountains, and they’d been another forty miles from Victory. That’s right here. This land. Give or take.”

      Casey nodded slowly. “Approximately, yes.”

      “I know it’s a very rough estimate, but since this land came up for sale, I wanted to check it out,” she said.

      “Well, we’ll have a look,” Casey said, but his expression was grim.

      “You don’t want me to buy this land, I know,” she said.

      “You’re right,” he agreed. “I don’t. This is prime ranching land, and cattle fuel this community. It’s our way of life, and I’ve worked this herd for fifteen years now. There’s something to be said for consistency. Also, there’s honor in feeding America’s families, and the beef we raise is top quality. That matters to me. To see this place turn into some therapy center—No offense, ma’am, but from my way of thinking, it would be a crying shame. The city folk might need their therapy and their chance to enjoy the wide outdoors, but we ranchers need pasture under our boots and cattle to drive. So what you’re suggesting isn’t going to help us at all. Again, no offense.”

      “None taken,” she murmured.

      “But that doesn’t mean I won’t treat you honestly,” Casey said.

      “Can I be sure of that?” she asked.

      “I’m a rancher, Miss Reed,” Casey said, his voice a low growl. “But I’m also a Christian. That one sits a little heavier. I believe in right and wrong, and I stand with the truth. So if I find out that this is the land you’ve been looking for, then I’ll tell you honestly, because I want God’s blessing more than I want my way. And God’s never yet blessed a lie.”

      Ember regarded him thoughtfully.

      “Are you a Christian, Miss Reed?” he asked.

      “Yes,” she said.

      “Then a handshake should be enough, wouldn’t you say?” he asked, holding out one hand toward her.

      Ember took his rough hand in hers, and she felt the gentle pressure of those strong fingers. It was a muscular hand—veined and broad—and she realized anew just how attractive this stubborn cowboy was. She tugged her fingers free.

      “Could you take the baby back?” she asked, slightly breathlessly.

      Casey did as she asked and she slid the infant into Casey’s arms. Wyatt СКАЧАТЬ