bicycle I just donât get out enough.
âGood morning, Reagan,â a voice suddenly called to her, and she realized sheâd walked all the way down to Russellâs livery.
âHello, Russell,â Reagan said easily enough, approaching where he stood in the alley behind his shop. She still didnât know the man very well, but at the moment he was a kind face, and Reagan felt very alone.
âDid you work today?â
âI did, yes, but I left early.â
âAre you not feeling well?â he asked with genuine concern. âHolly has everything you can think of if youâre under the weather. Just stop and see her.â
âNo, Iâm all right.â
The big man studied her.
âYour face says you arenât.â
Reagan smiled and laughed a little.
âSometimes men are so rude!â she suddenly blurted, and Russell had all he could do not to laugh.
âI canât disagree with you there.â
They were silent for a moment.
âWhat happened?â Russell finally asked.
Reagan shook her head in wonder. âOne of the hotel patrons could not keep his hands to himself. I threw his water in his face.â
Russellâs booming laugh brought a smile to Reaganâs face.
âGood job. You keep them in their place.â
Reagan was fascinated. This was the last thing sheâd expected from him.
âDo you really think it was all right that I did that?â
âOf course I do. A woman alone canât let her guard down for an instant.â
Reagan couldnât have felt better if heâd offered her the moon. Smiling a little, she thanked him and turned to go on her way.
âOh, Reagan,â he said, stopping her. She looked back. âHow are things in the little house? Everything working well?â
âItâs wonderful,â she told him honestly.
âWell, if you need something, you know where to come.â
With a wave Russell went back inside, and Reagan moved toward home. She was inside the safe walls of her little house a short time later, feeling as tired as if sheâd worked her regular day.
Sitting down in her chair and putting her feet up, she found herself thinking of New York and growing sad over what sheâd left behind. It hadnât been much, but it had been familiar. Tommy hadnât even sent her bicycle yet, and for one ridiculous moment Reagan thought she might cry.
âThis wonât do,â she said quietly. âI must be more tired than I first thought.â
But not even hearing the sound of her own voice could convince Reagan. She dozed off for a nap before she could put her finger on what was truly wrong.
Five
âIâ M SUPPOSED TO BE WATCHING CHILDREN ,â Reagan muttered in low fury just two weeks later, her arm scrubbing furiously at a pot. âKind, gentle little children who adore me. Iâm supposed to be sitting under shade trees and reading storybooks. I should be eating little cakes and fanning myself if Iâm warm.â Reagan shook her head in irritation, blew the air from her brow, and picked up the bucket of water that needed dumping.
It wasnât enough that waiting on tables had been added to her original job as baker. Now, added to those jobs was pot scrubbing. It didnât matter that she was being paid more. She didnât like it! Nearly stomping to the back door, Reagan took barely a step outside before she tossed the bucket of water into the alley. She would have turned right around and gone back in, but a deep gasp stopped her. Peeking around the doorjamb that hindered her view, Reagan caught sight of a tall cowboy. He was dripping wet from his mid-chest to his knees. Reaganâs hand came to her mouth.
âIâm sorry!â she exclaimed. âI didnât see you.â
âItâs all right,â he said, still looking surprised but not angry.
âWhat were you doing back here anyway?â
The apologetic,
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