Read Online Judith E French by McKennas Bride - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: McKennas Bride
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bed.”
The child’s dark eyes snapped open. “I was gonna stand guard, Shane. The shooter might come back and steal our horses.”
“I’ll do what watchin’ needs done tonight,” Shane replied.
Gabe met his gaze. “Want my help?”
Shane shook his head. “You get some sleep. I need you clearheaded for tomorrow.”
Mary handed Shane a cup of coffee, black as homemade sin and steaming hot. He tucked the rifle into the crook of his arm and carried the coffee with him out to the barn.
Coffee was the one luxury he allowed them, and Mary’s tin chest was nearly bare. He’d been ashamed to tell Caity how broke he was. Some men traded at the store at Kane’s Crossroads on tick, but not him. He’d seen his own father lose what little they had to debt, and Uncle Jamie had left Kilronan buried in due notes to the bank and supply houses.
By sweat and luck he’d cleared most of what was owed, but he’d have no ready coin until he sold more stock. He would have met Caity at the steamboat landing on time if he hadn’t been delayed at Hendrick’s farm. He and Justice had stopped to deliver a mule and spent most of the afternoon helping Matt Hendrick pull a cow out of a section of quicksand in the river.
Shane had received no ready money from that transaction, but he had paid off what was still due from one of his uncle’s old gambling wagers. By the time he bought gunpowder, flour, and lamp oil, there wasn’t two bits left of his ready cash.
Caity had called him a tightfisted man. He supposed that was true enough, but if he’d been softer, Kilronan would have been lost before this. It wasn’t in him to make excuses to a woman. Caity had come from quality, and she’d never understand how much the price of a hotel room meant to a stockman.
He didn’t take a lantern to the barn. He knew every inch of the way by heart. Murmuring softly to the horsesto settle them, Shane climbed up into the loft. There he swung open a door and sat back against a pile of hay with his rifle across his lap.
He sipped slowly at the coffee, trying not to remember how Caity felt in his arms. He could still smell the faint heather in her hair. Fat Rose’s girls bathed in scent. He reckoned you could catch wind of Rose’s house a mile downriver. Caity didn’t smell like that; she was wholesome and clean, and soft as a new-hatched duckling.
“So why did you come here?” he murmured aloud. “Why this time and not before?” Was it the shame of bearing a child out of wedlock? Or was it possible that she still cared for him?
He could care for her a hell of a lot, if he let himself. His feelings for Caity ran deep and wide. He’d shut them off and built a dam of icy bitterness in his head to stop the hurting. It wouldn’t take much to melt that ice and bring the dam crashing down.
“I could love you again, Caity, girl,” he whispered. “I could take you and another man’s babe as my own, if only I could trust you.”
“Ouch! Let go! You’re killin’ me!” Justice kicked and squirmed, but Caitlin held him firmly by the back of the neck and scrubbed his face until it shone.
“You’re to wash your face and hands before coming to the table,” she insisted. “And brush your teeth and comb your hair.”
“Comb your teeth!” Derry echoed, then burst into a merry giggle.
It was quarter after seven by the watch Caitlin had hung around her neck. She’d been up since five, and she’d attacked the kitchen dirt between patting up round loafs of soda bread and preparing a pot of tea and a large duck-egg omelet.
Caitlin had pushed the leg-of-mutton sleeves of her russet morning gown above her elbows and tied an apron around her waist to protect the delicate cotton percale. She’d braided her hair and coiled the heavy mass into a bun, crowning it with a tiny lace cap, once as white as sea foam but now faded to old ivory. Shane had ridiculed her stylish clothing, but this was the plainest dress she owned. It had been more than
The child’s dark eyes snapped open. “I was gonna stand guard, Shane. The shooter might come back and steal our horses.”
“I’ll do what watchin’ needs done tonight,” Shane replied.
Gabe met his gaze. “Want my help?”
Shane shook his head. “You get some sleep. I need you clearheaded for tomorrow.”
Mary handed Shane a cup of coffee, black as homemade sin and steaming hot. He tucked the rifle into the crook of his arm and carried the coffee with him out to the barn.
Coffee was the one luxury he allowed them, and Mary’s tin chest was nearly bare. He’d been ashamed to tell Caity how broke he was. Some men traded at the store at Kane’s Crossroads on tick, but not him. He’d seen his own father lose what little they had to debt, and Uncle Jamie had left Kilronan buried in due notes to the bank and supply houses.
By sweat and luck he’d cleared most of what was owed, but he’d have no ready coin until he sold more stock. He would have met Caity at the steamboat landing on time if he hadn’t been delayed at Hendrick’s farm. He and Justice had stopped to deliver a mule and spent most of the afternoon helping Matt Hendrick pull a cow out of a section of quicksand in the river.
Shane had received no ready money from that transaction, but he had paid off what was still due from one of his uncle’s old gambling wagers. By the time he bought gunpowder, flour, and lamp oil, there wasn’t two bits left of his ready cash.
Caity had called him a tightfisted man. He supposed that was true enough, but if he’d been softer, Kilronan would have been lost before this. It wasn’t in him to make excuses to a woman. Caity had come from quality, and she’d never understand how much the price of a hotel room meant to a stockman.
He didn’t take a lantern to the barn. He knew every inch of the way by heart. Murmuring softly to the horsesto settle them, Shane climbed up into the loft. There he swung open a door and sat back against a pile of hay with his rifle across his lap.
He sipped slowly at the coffee, trying not to remember how Caity felt in his arms. He could still smell the faint heather in her hair. Fat Rose’s girls bathed in scent. He reckoned you could catch wind of Rose’s house a mile downriver. Caity didn’t smell like that; she was wholesome and clean, and soft as a new-hatched duckling.
“So why did you come here?” he murmured aloud. “Why this time and not before?” Was it the shame of bearing a child out of wedlock? Or was it possible that she still cared for him?
He could care for her a hell of a lot, if he let himself. His feelings for Caity ran deep and wide. He’d shut them off and built a dam of icy bitterness in his head to stop the hurting. It wouldn’t take much to melt that ice and bring the dam crashing down.
“I could love you again, Caity, girl,” he whispered. “I could take you and another man’s babe as my own, if only I could trust you.”
“Ouch! Let go! You’re killin’ me!” Justice kicked and squirmed, but Caitlin held him firmly by the back of the neck and scrubbed his face until it shone.
“You’re to wash your face and hands before coming to the table,” she insisted. “And brush your teeth and comb your hair.”
“Comb your teeth!” Derry echoed, then burst into a merry giggle.
It was quarter after seven by the watch Caitlin had hung around her neck. She’d been up since five, and she’d attacked the kitchen dirt between patting up round loafs of soda bread and preparing a pot of tea and a large duck-egg omelet.
Caitlin had pushed the leg-of-mutton sleeves of her russet morning gown above her elbows and tied an apron around her waist to protect the delicate cotton percale. She’d braided her hair and coiled the heavy mass into a bun, crowning it with a tiny lace cap, once as white as sea foam but now faded to old ivory. Shane had ridiculed her stylish clothing, but this was the plainest dress she owned. It had been more than
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