Maverick Wild. Stacey Kayne

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СКАЧАТЬ you, Garret.”

      The doe-eyed kid beamed as he retook his seat. The flush in Cora Mae’s cheeks stole Chance’s attention. She looked his way, her lips tipping with a nervous smile before she averted her gaze. Even her long lashes had an amber tinge against her pale skin.

      Peaches and cream, he thought noting the light dusting of freckles across her small nose.

      She’s Cora Mae, he curtly reminded himself, disturbed by the sudden stir of his body. The reminder didn’t do a damn thing to dampen the hard rush of attraction.

      Just because she doesn’t look a thing like her mama doesn’t mean she hasn’t been soured by her. He’d be a fool to believe she was still all sunshine and sweetness.

      “Chance?”

      He blinked and realized Cora Mae was holding up the platter of ham. Apparently he’d missed his brother saying grace.

      “I swear I didn’t poison it.”

      “You cooked supper?” he asked, taking the platter.

      Her lips thinned in clear annoyance. “You needn’t sound so shocked. I’m used to feeding thirty girls three times a day, as well as tending to the laundry and other household needs.”

      In truth, he was shocked. The idea of a Tindale woman actually working hadn’t yet registered in his mind. “I’m surprised Skylar gave up control of her kitchen,” he said as he forked a few slabs of ham onto his plate and passed it on.

      “If you’d joined us for breakfast or dinner,” said Skylar, “you’d know I haven’t cooked a lick since Cora arrived.”

      Chance glanced from Cora Mae to the spread currently working its way around the table. I’ll be damned.

      “I’m glad to help out,” she said. “After a month of travel, I’ve missed cooking.”

      “Running a boardinghouse with so many girls must have kept you busy,” said Tucker.

      “It did. Having worked in the mill for a few years, I understood how much an organized household could help with the strain of living on factory time. A twelve-hour workday is long enough without having to worry about walking home on a thirty-minute break only to discover supper wouldn’t be ready before you had to walk back to the mill. The time clock didn’t care if you’d eaten or slept on filthy sheets or had clean clothes in your wardrobe. But I cared. I made sure my girls were taken care of.”

      “Sounds like you enjoyed your job,” Chance said, taking a bowl of fresh greens from her.

      She smiled. Sheer pride lit her eyes. “I loved it.”

      The sincerity in her voice intrigued him. “So, why’d you leave?”

      “Well…” Her smile collapsed, taking the spark from her eyes. “I guess…I was ready for some change.”

      “We’re sure glad you’re here,” said Garret.

      “We certainly are,” Skylar put in. “I’m grateful for all your help. If these babies don’t make an appearance soon, I may become permanently lazy.”

      Suddenly overwhelmed by a staggering sense of loss, Cora couldn’t muster a smile. She lowered her gaze to her plate as her mind flooded with the image of Mr. Grissom’s cold expression and callous gaze. Standing on the front porch of the boardinghouse, her mother’s mercenary had announced his intention to take her home. It hadn’t been a request. She’d been packed up and carted off—no explanation, no time to give notice or goodbyes. And for what?

      To be starved into satin bonds and handed to a drunken laird as though she were nothing more than a bargaining chip in her mother’s reserves.

      Anger twisted through her at the memory of a closet full of beautiful gowns, all fashioned for a woman a third her size. A welcome home gift, her mother had called them. A gift laced with the usual ridicule and insult. A reminder of why she’d been sent away, considered unworthy of a place in society. Lord knew all her cousins fit perfectly into the Tindale debutant mold.

      “Miss Cora?”

      Garret smiled brightly and passed her a basket of bread. She took it but realized she’d lost her appetite as swiftly as she’d lost control of her life. She passed the bread on, telling herself she didn’t need the hassle of letting out her dress seams, but it was her mother’s voice she heard.

      What have you done to yourself, Cora Mae? Honestly, Cora Mae, it’s no wonder you are nearly thirty and unwed.

      She hated the sound of her full name, knowing insults never trailed far behind it. Not that changing her name had done anything to improve her appearance.

      Salina Jameson’s sweetly spoken remarks resurfaced, this time grating over sensitive wounds.

      What does it matter? She’d rather die a spinster than find herself at the mercy of another man.

      Chance took the basket being offered to him and wondered if anyone else had noticed her hesitation to answer his question or the sadness still darkening her eyes as she stared blindly at her plate.

      “You won’t have time to be lazy when those girls get here,” Garret was saying to Skylar.

      “Why do you keep calling them girls?” demanded Tucker.

      Garret shrugged while swallowing a bite of food. “Margarete is predicting girls. She said Josh’d be a boy. And he was.”

      “How’s Zeke?” Chance asked, determined to get his focus off Cora Mae. The mention of their foreman’s wife reminded him he’d forgotten to stop and check on him.

      “Better,” said Skylar. “Cora and I took them some supper. Margarete has her hands full enough trying to keep Zeke in bed and off a horse.”

      Well into his sixties, Zeke was as tough as they came. The beating he’d endured would have taken the starch out of any man.

      “It was good to see him sitting on his porch this morning,” said Duce.

      “He’s still favoring his left leg,” Garret added.

      Duce shook his head and jabbed his fork into a piece of ham. “Not one of those cowards on the Lazy J poked a head out while we tore down that dam.”

      Not surprising. Serving himself a helping of potatoes, Chance caught a glimpse of Cora Mae’s plate. The circle of porcelain was dabbed with hardly enough food to fill a sparrow. He glanced again at her downcast gaze and pale complexion.

      “Are you not feeling well?” he asked in a hushed voice, leaning toward her, not wanting to draw attention from the others.

      She looked up in surprise. “I feel fine,” she whispered back.

      “Then why aren’t you eating?”

      Her eyes widened. Red splotched her cheeks. “I am.”

      Chance glanced again at the spot of green and sliver of ham. СКАЧАТЬ