Safe in His Arms, Page 3

  He peered past her at the small room, furnished with a metal cot with a sagging mattress, one battered chair, and a dresser that held a porcelain pitcher and bowl. “Looks comfortable.” He dropped his satchel on the floor and shut the door behind him.

  She backed away from him, but Daniel reached out and held her arm. “I’m not a threat to you, Margaret.”

  She jerked her arm from his grip. “It’s Miss O’Brien.”

  He pocketed his hands and nodded. “Miss O’Brien, then. From what I can see, this is a pretty big spread and you can use the help. I’m not sure how I managed to get your back up, but can we call a truce?”

  Color bloomed along her cheeks, and she narrowed her eyes. “I would have thought my father would have taken one look at you and realized the person he needed to be wary of was you. You may have fooled my father, Mr. Cutler, but you didn’t fool me for a minute.”

  “What burr do you have under your saddle about me? You don’t know me yet.”

  She waved in his direction. “Look at you, with your fancy pants and shirt. No self-respecting foreman would think of wearing a shirt like that. The thorns and briars would puncture your skin right through those clothes. And those boots look like you just bought them before you boarded the stagecoach. You’re no brushpopper, that’s for sure.”

  Daniel glanced down. She wasn’t far wrong. He had bought them just for this job. “So you don’t like my new duds? I’d of thought a pretty women like you would be agreeable to a man getting gussied up for a new job.”

  Astute woman. He’d have to be on his guard that she didn’t figure out why he was here. He’d grown up in Austin and had learned finer ways. It astonished him that she’d seen a polish he thought the gang had knocked off him.

  She leaned closer. “Your manner is way too cocky and your hair is much too stylish for ranch work. In short, Mr. Cutler, you don’t belong here. And I don’t want my pa to get dependent on a city man like you. You’ll only let us down when the going gets tough.”

  She would make a good detective. Daniel reached out and touched her cheek. She flinched but held her ground. He grinned at her glare.

  “You’ll kindly keep your hands to yourself!” She wheeled around to leave but Daniel caught her in his arms.

  She stared up at him, her eyes wide with alarm. Her skin was warm as sunshine and smelled spicy, as though she’d rubbed something on it. The moment stretched out and he saw an answering flicker of awareness in her eyes. She caught her breath and struggled to get away.

  He instantly released her and she scrambled back. Her green eyes snapped with anger. She drew back her hand to slap him, and he caught the blow in midair. But he wasn’t expecting an attack from another quarter. Margaret kicked him in the shin, and he bent over double with the pain.

  “Yee-ouch.” He rubbed his shin. “It was only a touch, Miss O’Brien, not an attack on your person.”

  Her chest heaved and her eyes glimmered. “You are despicable! Are you in the habit of accosting women who find you repugnant? I am a believer, Mr. Cutler, a Christian woman. My—my caresses will be saved for the man who will one day respect me enough to marry me. They are not to be bandied about like currency on the open market.”

  Daniel felt like a heel when he saw tears sparkling on her lashes. And for the first time in his life, he thought that marriage might not be such a bad proposition with the right wife. Someone with fire and passion like Margaret O’Brien.

  He reached toward her to reassure her that his intentions were honorable, but she flinched and ran from the bunkhouse. Great. She would probably tell her father that he’d manhandled her, and he would lose his job before it started. He squared his shoulders. He had to stop that from happening. Too much depended on this central location.

  He rushed after her, but her tall form wasn’t running for the safety of the house and her father. She was hurrying toward an orchard grove behind the barn. She disappeared into the trees and he followed. He found her facedown on the grass, her shoulders heaving with her sobs.

  Daniel knelt beside her and hesitantly touched her shoulder. She buried her head farther into her arms. “Go away.”

  He drew his hand away. “I’m sorry, Miss O’Brien. I was way out of line.” He waited to see if she would respond to his gentle tone.

  She gulped and scrubbed at her face. “Go away,” she said again. This time her voice was resigned and full of sadness.

  Daniel didn’t understand why one touch should have produced this reaction. He reached to pat her shoulder, but she quickly sat up and shrugged away his hand.

  “Don’t touch me.” Her face was red and blotchy from weeping.

  Daniel fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. “I’m sorry, Miss O’Brien. Truly. I don’t know what got into me. All I can say is you’re a beautiful woman, and I’ve wanted to touch you from the first minute I laid eyes on you. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

  The color ran from her face, and she stared at him as though he’d just grown horns. “Don’t mock me, Mr. Cutler,” she whispered.

  He frowned at her. “I wasn’t mocking you. And if no one has ever told you that you’re beautiful, then I have to wonder about the men in this valley.” He rose and brushed the twigs from his trousers. “But believe me, I would rather hug a polecat than you after that display of female hysteria. You can be sure it won’t happen again.”

  The color came back into her pale face and she rose to face him. “It certainly won’t happen again. I understand now the type of man you are, and I won’t let my guard down again.”

  “I suppose you’ll go running to your father. You’re not woman enough to face your problems on your own.”

  Her eyes flashed and she tilted her chin. “If I were going to tattle to my father, I would have gone to him at once. You’re not a problem, Mr. Cutler. You’re no more important than a rogue bull that has to be put down. I can handle you with one arm behind my back.”

  For one crazy moment, Daniel was tempted to show her that he wasn’t to be underestimated, but sense reasserted itself and he politely stepped away from her. “We shall see, Miss O’Brien, we shall see.”

  He felt a stab of satisfaction at the way her cheeks colored and her eyes darkened with trepidation. Her emotions showed so readily in her face. She had translucent skin that colored easily, and it would be tempting to spend his time provoking a reaction out of her. She was a match for him in more ways than one.

  THREE

  Cattle dotted the rolling acres under the blue bowl of sky as far as the eye could see. Margaret sat on the porch step with a bowl of peas she was shelling in her lap for supper. She looked up now and then to admire the sights.

  Every time she took a moment to look around the ranch, she was struck anew with its beauty. The ranch house nestled in the valley where it sat surrounded by barns, corrals, and a garden. A well-tended, prosperous holding she had been instrumental in making successful. The rosebushes she’d planted several weeks back had taken hold at the base of the low porch that ran the length of the house, and she caught a whiff of their sweet blossoms. Hers. This place was hers.

  She touched her cheek where Daniel had touched it. Beautiful. Though she’d heard no mockery in his voice when he said the word, there had to be some reason for his lies. What was he doing here with his city clothes and ways?

  A horse neighed and she looked up to see a wagon lumbering up the rutted track. It stopped in front of the house. She squinted in the sun as a familiar figure climbed down from the wagon. She smiled at the sight. “Lewis, I wasn’t expecting you.” She turned to the open window. “Pa, Lewis is here.”

  She and Lewis were close to the same age, and he’d always been more like a brother than a cousin. His father had died when he was fifteen, and he often spent summers with them. He was about two inches taller than her with brown hair that curled over his collar. His slim stature masked the strength in his muscles. She’d seen him rope a bull and bring the animal to its kn
ees in an instant.

  She put down the bowl of peas and rushed to meet him as he came toward her. “What are you doing here?”

  He swung her into a hug that lifted her feet off the ground, no small feat with her height. “I missed you too much to stay away.”

  When he set her feet back down, she tucked her hand into his arm. “How long can you stay?”

  His eyebrow lifted. “Permanently. Uncle Paddy didn’t tell you?”

  Something about his manner made her stop and look up at him. “Tell me what?”

  Lewis’s hazel eyes were troubled. “I think you’d better talk to your dad. I thought you knew . . .” He bit his lip and looked toward the house as the screen door opened.

  Her father let the door slam behind him as he hurried to join them. He clapped Lewis on the shoulder. “Good to see you, boy. You made excellent time.”

  She didn’t like the way her father wouldn’t look at her. His face was red too, like a little boy caught in a misdemeanor. “Pa, Lewis says he’s staying permanently. What’s this all about?”

  “Now, Margaret, don’t go getting your britches twisted. The ranch needs a male hand. It’s only proper that he has a stake in the ranch. My pa would have wanted me to do right by Ray’s boy.” Her pa’s voice was full of bluster.

  Uncle Ray had died before Grandpa, so the ranch had passed to her father. If Ray had lived, the ranch would have been split between the two men, and Lewis would have inherited when his father died. What her father proposed was fair.

  “I’m not disagreeing with that, Pa. But why am I just now hearing about this? You could have talked it over with me.”

  “We’re discussing it now, aren’t we? You run on in and put on some coffee. We can finish talking about it in the parlor. I’m sure Lewis is mighty thirsty. We got any of that ham left from dinner last night? It’s a spell until supper, and I’m sure the stagecoach ride left him hungry.”

  “There’s some in the icebox. I’ll make sandwiches.” She’d been dismissed like she was the housekeeper. Now that her pa had a man on the ranch and a new foreman, did he plan to relegate her to the kitchen? She wasn’t about to allow that. She hurried to the icebox and prepared the coffee and food.

  When she came into the parlor, both men went silent. What was going on? It seemed like more than just bringing Lewis in to share the ranch. She was fine with that—as long as she wasn’t made to feel like an employee. Lewis took a sandwich and a cup of coffee and so did her father. She set the tray on a table and sank onto the sofa beside her cousin. Her throat was too tight to think of swallowing anything.

  Her father cleared his throat. “It’s like this, Margaret. It’s time you settled down and got married. If you keep on the way you have, no man in the valley will be interested. Running the ranch, wearing men’s dungarees—it’s not suitable. I’m thinking about sending you off to finishing school.”

  She gaped. “You’ll do no such thing, Pa! I’d go live with Aunt Agnes first.”

  Her father pointed a finger at her. “Look at yourself, daughter. You’re dressed like a man. Your hair is hanging down your back like a hooligan. Those boots belonged to Lewis once, didn’t they?”

  She stared at the tips of the boots peeking from under the dusty britches. “It’s practical, Pa. I can hardly round up cattle in a skirt.”

  “Exactly my point. I want you to start acting like a lady. Start wearing pretty clothes. I want some grandchildren to dandle on my knee.”

  The muscles in her jaw ached from clenching it. She swallowed and focused on relaxing. Her father was never swayed by shouting and anger. Even though he blustered about getting his way, he usually gave in to her.

  “I want that too. But, Pa, look at me. Men want a dainty woman who looks good pouring tea in the parlor. I’m taller than most men I know. I’m not going to find a husband.”

  “That’s not true,” Lewis said. “Any man would be proud to call you his wife, Margaret. You’ll be a real asset to any ranch. Look at that garden out there. You’re growing enough food to feed an army. You’ve done a stellar job running this place. I think you’re beautiful.”

  She smiled at his defense. “The most I can bring to a marriage is hard work.”

  Her father waved his hand in the air. “Having Lewis and Cutler here will give you a break so you can work on more womanly pursuits.”

  There was going to be no dissuading him this time. She’d never seen her father look so determined. No matter. While she loved Lewis, he was no ranch hand. And Daniel Cutler wouldn’t last long either. She’d still be here when they were both long gone.

  DANIEL HADN’T MISSED the tension at dinner. He’d listened to Margaret and Lewis talk about ranch work and family, but he caught her staring at her hands several times. She’d changed into a skirt for dinner and her hair was down. It was just as pretty in the lamplight as he’d imagined.

  After dinner the cook gathered the dishes to wash. Margaret grabbed a jacket and slipped out the back door. Lewis didn’t seem to notice, so Daniel followed her. He watched her approach the corral. A sorrel horse trotted toward her. She propped one boot on the lower rung of the fence, then dug into her pocket and offered something to the horse. Her husky voice was a soothing murmur as she petted the horse’s nose.

  “Nice horse,” he said, stopping five feet behind her.

  She jumped but didn’t turn around. “This is Archie. I raised him. His mother died when he was born.”

  “He’s your baby.”

  “He is.” Her boot came off the fence rail and she turned to face him. “What do you want? I’ll give you your orders tomorrow—if you’re still around. I have no idea why Pa even hired you since he brought Lewis out too.”

  Her gibe didn’t bother him. She’d had a lot thrown at her today. He stepped nearer. “You seemed upset at supper. You don’t want your cousin here?”

  “This is none of your business.” Her voice was cold.

  “No, it’s not. I’m new here and trying to get my bearings, figure out who my boss is.”

  She lifted her chin. “I’m your boss.”

  “I got that part already.” He couldn’t keep the amusement from his voice. It had to be hard for a competent woman like her to feel like her father didn’t appreciate her work.

  The stars were brilliant in the dark sky, sparkling like droplets of the purest water. “Look!” He took her shoulders and turned her to face the western horizon. “It’s the first glimpse of the young moon. It usually happens about twenty-four hours after the new moon.”

  “I can just barely see the outline,” she said. “What’s a young moon? I’ve heard of a new moon but never a young one.”

  She stood in front of him and her hair brushed his chin. The hint of mint in the air came again. When he’d first met her, he wouldn’t have guessed she put anything scented in her hair. His hands were still on her shoulders, and he was in no hurry to let loose.

  He dipped his head to inhale another whiff of her. “It’s just after a new moon when there is a sliver beginning to show. You have to look hard for it.” He pointed. “Did you know that a new moon is thought to be the best time for courtship?”

  She jerked away and stepped out of his reach. “You overheard my father?”

  “He wants you to get married.” It didn’t take a professor to guess why her father had hired him and asked his nephew to come help out at the ranch.

  She turned back to pet the horse. “I’m happy like I am. I don’t need another man finding fault with me.”

  “You have a lot to be proud of, that’s for sure. The ranch looks as fine as cream gravy.”

  The tension in her outline seemed to ease. She moved her hand over Archie’s nose in a soothing caress. “I had an older brother who was killed in the Indian Wars. I was fifteen when he died, so I stepped in and took over.”

  “Losing someone can change a person.” Like it had changed him. Remembering the things he’d done in his life made him cringe. And the things he’d failed to d
o were even worse.

  She stared at him. “You say that like you’ve lost someone you loved. A wife?”

  He didn’t smile. “No, I’ve never been married. My mother died five years ago, and it was my fault. She asked me to take her to the doctor, but I was too busy with my own life. It would have messed up a big deal for me. I told her I’d take her the next day if she still didn’t feel well. She died that night.” He didn’t try to hide his self-disgust as he held her gaze.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t usually talk about it.” Strange that he’d told her. “But about the ranch . . .”

  Her chin jutted out. “Pa turned things over to me ten years ago. I’ve done a fine job. A fine job.”

  She sure was pretty standing there with her hands on her hips as if daring him to find one thing wrong with the job she’d done. He dipped his head. “I’m not disagreeing with that. But some things are more important to a man than money.”

  “Like what?”

  He wished he could comfort her. “Like grandchildren and a legacy. I think your pa is feeling his age and wanting to make sure things continue here.”

  She backed away until she was leaning against the fence again. Archie nuzzled her neck. “I don’t know what to do.” Her voice was a whisper as though she spoke to herself.

  “What do you want? We’ve been talking about what your pa wants. I’d guess you want to run the ranch yourself.” The wind ruffled her thick curls.

  She turned and patted her horse’s nose. “Of course I want to run it. It’s what I do. I take pride in seeing the cattle fat and content. I make sure the barns are in good repair and our workers are taken care of.”

  “In other words, what you do matters.”

  Her eyes glimmered in the starlight. “I reckon that’s what I mean.”

  “So your cousin is going to take charge now?”

  “No!” Her hair swung as she shook her head violently. “Well, to be honest, I’m not sure what Pa has in mind. He wants to make sure Lewis shares in the ranch somehow. That’s all he told me.”