The Hand-Me-Down Family. Winnie Griggs

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СКАЧАТЬ snapped the twig and tossed it away. “I’m inside the perimeter because I’m setting charges. Which means I’m working with enough explosives right now to blow you, me and most of this pile of rock to smithereens.”

      Dobbins’s Adam’s apple bobbed, but he stuck out his chin and pulled a paper from his pocket. “A telegram came for you. Mr. Gordon wanted—”

      Jack’s jaw muscle twitched. Fool kid. “I don’t care if it’s a set of executive orders from President Grover Cleveland himself. When I’m in the middle of a job, you don’t cross the perimeter unless it’s life or death.” He narrowed his eyes. “Because it just might turn into that.”

      A quick nod signaled understanding.

      Jack wiped his brow with his sleeve, already regretting his harsh tone. The heat and the hours were starting to wear on him. He waved the intruder forward. “Well, now that you’re here, you might as well give me the thing.”

      Dobbins nudged his horse forward and handed the folded paper to Jack. His eyes rounded when he saw Jack slide it into his pocket without so much as a glance. “Aren’t you gonna read it?”

      “Not ’til I’m done here. I don’t need any more distractions right now.” He raised a brow. “Anything else?”

      Dobbins got the message. “Guess not.” With another nod, he jerked on the reins, turned his horse, and headed back in the direction of the base camp.

      Jack frowned as he watched the messenger gallop off.

      A telegram. Now who would—

      He was doing it already, he realized.

      He shoved the telegram out of his mind. Right now he needed to focus on the work at hand. Like he’d just told Dobbins, he couldn’t afford distractions while he was on the job.

      Twenty minutes later Jack stood and tilted his hat up. He stepped back far enough to take in the remainder of what just a week ago had been a steep, rocky hillside. He drew his elbows back behind him, stretching the kinks out of cramped muscles.

      Then he mentally reviewed the placement of all four charges one more time. You just couldn’t be too careful.

      Satisfied everything was in order, he headed back toward the stand of scrub he’d designated as the meeting spot for his two-man team. Hopefully they were already waiting for him. He was more than ready to wrap up this job.

      As he crossed the uneven ground, Jack fingered the folded sheet of paper tucked in his pocket. The only people who’d be likely to send him a telegram would be his sister or brother.

      He’d just gotten a letter from Nell a few weeks ago. She hadn’t had anything new to say—just updates on what was going on back home and sisterly admonitions to visit soon, coupled with a bribe to bake up one of his favorite apple pecan pies.

      No, he couldn’t picture either Nell or Lanny sending a telegram. At least not to deliver good news.

      The back of his neck prickled and his step slowed.

      Putting off reading the thing was becoming more of a distraction than whatever news the telegram contained could possibly be.

      Jack jerked the crumpled paper out of his pocket and read the four stark lines written there.

      And as surely as if someone had detonated the charges prematurely, he felt the world rock under his feet.

      Chapter Two

      Texas, four days later

      Callie studied the man seated across from her as the stagecoach swayed and bounced, bringing her ever closer to her new life.

      She placed a finger to her chin. No, he wasn’t a sea captain. The hat was all wrong and he had an air about him that seemed more akin to earthiness than saltwater.

      She scrunched her lips to one side as she examined his features more closely. He was actually quite handsome, in a dangerous, rugged sort of way. Rather than detracting from his looks, that faded scar on the left side of his chin served to lend him an adventurous air. She refused to believe a man who looked as he did was anything so mundane as a farmer or shopkeeper.

      He could be a Texas Ranger. Yes, that would fit. He had that lean, grim-purpose look about him.

      She settled into her mental tale-spinning. So, if he was a ranger, what was his story? Perhaps he was returning home for a well-earned rest after grueling weeks of tracking down desperate outlaws. Or maybe he was traveling to Sweetgum on official business in search of—

      Callie straightened in her seat. Was it her imagination, or had they slowed down a bit? A quick glance out the window confirmed that the tree-lined countryside had given way to scattered farms. And if she wasn’t mistaken, the edge of a small town was just up ahead.

      This was it. Her new home—Sweetgum, Texas.

      She adjusted her poke bonnet with hands that weren’t quite steady, then laced her fingers tightly together and closed her eyes.

      Heavenly Father, I’m truly grateful to You for getting me all the way here from Ohio without a hitch. But we both know that was the easy part compared to what comes next. And since this whole undertaking was actually Your idea, I know You’re going to help me figure out what to say and do when I step outside and come face-to-face with my new husband for the first time.

      Bolstered by that thought, Callie began gathering her belongings. Then she paused and slanted a glance toward the object of her former musings.

      Her unsociable traveling companion seemed completely unaware of their arrival.

      Should she say something to him?

      He’d climbed aboard at their last stop and, after the briefest of greetings, settled into the opposite corner, closed his eyes and hadn’t moved since. Not that she resented his lack of attention.

      After all, being this close to such a man was a new experience for her, and his closed-off demeanor had given her an opportunity to study him unobserved. Besides which, trying to concoct a history for him from only the hints provided by the rough and calloused look of his hands, his weathered complexion and his firm, wiry build had been an interesting way to pass the time.

      One thing she’d decided about thirty minutes into her story-weaving was that, whatever his profession, he was not someone at peace with his world. There was something about his very stillness, about the hint of tension in his stubble-covered jaw, that pointed to a weary or troubled spirit.

      Before she could make up her mind whether or not to disturb him, his eyes opened and their gazes collided. The lack of any residual drowsiness in those startling blue eyes made her wonder whether or not he’d truly been asleep.

      The heat rose in Callie’s cheeks. How mortifying to have been caught staring so rudely! She tugged on the edge of her bonnet again. Thank goodness it already hid most of her face.

      “We’re here,” she blurted, then mentally cringed. Why did she always feel compelled to rush in and fill the silences?

      He straightened. “So I see.”

      The СКАЧАТЬ