Read Online Montana Legend (Harlequin Historical, No. 624) by Jillian Hart - Free Book Online Page B

looked lighter somehow, as if this place suited her. She hopped over the rail fence and unwound Scout’s reins from the post. With a whoop, she leaped onto Scout’s withers and the two of them were off, streaking out of sight.
    Just how long would she be able to stay out of trouble? He didn’t know. Lucy was a mystery to him, but he loved her. He shook his head, sank his saw into the cut and worked, sweat dripping down his face as the sun strengthened.
    This was happiness. A beautiful morning. Hard work to occupy him. A day spread out before him without a single problem he couldn’t handle. He’d been needing this for a long time. Wandering from job to job, trying to put the past behind him hadn’t worked. Maybe the peace of this great land would be the balm he needed.
    The timber broke apart and he wiped his brow with his shirt. He straightened, taking a breather. He could see Lucy loping Scout through the fields and into the creek. Water splashed everywhere.
    The squeak of a buggy wheel spun him around. Was it Sarah? He didn’t know why his thoughts turned to her, maybe it was because he knew she lived close. When he spied the tasseled surrey drawn by a pair of matching gray Arabians, he couldn’t explain the disappointment that whipped through him. It wasn’t Sarah.
    What was wrong with him? He needed his head checked, that’s what it was. A man opposed to marriage knew better than to start pining after a woman looking for matrimony.
    â€œMr. Gatlin, I presume?” The surrey squealed to a halt.
    There, looking at him from beneath a fancy bonnet, was a beautiful redhead with a fetching smile. He knew the look of hope, having seen it a time or two before, and panic kicked through him like a cantankerous mule.
    Being a brave man, he straightened his shoulders, told himself to buck up, and managed what he hoped was a cordial smile. “Howdy, ma’am. What can I do for you?”
    â€œThen you are Mr. Gatlin.” Her smile widened, and there was something artificial about it, as if she’d practiced just that same striking curve of mouth and sparkle of eye in a mirror.
    â€œI hate to say I am.” Resigned, he knelt to heft the timber off the sawhorse.
    â€œThen I’m so pleased I was able to find you at home.” She climbed down from the surrey. “I wanted to welcome you to our little corner of Montana. I baked a cake for you.”
    â€œThat’s mighty kind of you, ma’am—”
    â€œCall me Marilyn.” She gazed up at him through long lashes, a coy look, just this side of proper, but her message was clear.
    How many more women were going to be stopping by to measure up the new bachelor? He dropped the timber, letting it thud to the ground. “That was mightykind of you, ma’am, but I’m already stocked up on baked goods.”
    â€œI’m sure your daughter will help you eat it.” Marilyn pranced closer on her dainty slippers, arms extended with a glass cake plate.
    Angel food. Lucy’s favorite. It wasn’t as if he could be impolite and send her away. He wasn’t a man who could hurt a woman’s feelings, but he didn’t feel right about taking the cake. Or the delicate plate it was on.
    â€œMy daughter and I thank you, ma’am.” He wasn’t about to use her first name. He’d learned long ago that would only encourage a marriage-minded woman.
    There was only one thing to do. He heaved another timber onto the sawhorse. “It was kind of you to stop by.” He grabbed his saw and set to work.
    He figured Miss Marilyn had a few prying questions for him, and after she’d batted her eyes a few more times and walked with a sway of her curvy hips meaning to give him something to think about, she’d be gone.
    But not soon enough.
    Gage set his jaw, watched the saw bite into the raw lumber, and cursed. All he wanted was to be left alone. Was that too much to ask?
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