Read Online The Outlaw Bride by Kelly Boyce - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kelly Boyce
Ads: Link
and time of Grant’s death. Late afternoon, March 5, 1873. The memory had been carved into his soul.
“It must have been difficult to find yourself alone. Did you have any people at all?”
She shook her head and continued scrubbing the dishes with a vigor that would have made Amelia proud. But sadness tinged her tone when she answered. “No. No family. I’m alone.”
“I’m sorry.” In the gaping absence of her family, his words sounded wholly inadequate.
“Thank you,” she whispered. Her shoulders relaxed a little and the intense scrubbing eased. She pulled the dish from the pan and set it on the counter. “I guess we all have our burdens. What about you? Is your family nearby?”
Connor’s gaze drifted over to Jenny, who up until now had been sitting quietly in her chair. Whether she had been listening to them or not, he couldn’t say. Connor smiled warmly at her. “It’s just Jenny and me.”
Kate squeezed the excess water from the washcloth and set it aside. Picking up the dishtowel, she turned and leaned her back against the counter. Amelia had done the same thing countless times, stood there talking to him while she cleared and cleaned the dishes. But somehow this was different. The air felt charged around them. And sure as shootin’ he had never once considered crossing the room and gathering Amelia up in his arms to plant a good solid—
Connor pushed out his chair and stood abruptly. “I should get Jenny ready for bed.”
***
The floorboard creaked beneath her weight. Katherine shifted her stance. She cringed and crouched down, trying to mesh with the shadows. A hesitant peek at the sofa revealed Connor had turned onto his side, away from her. The quilt had slipped down to bunch at his waist, revealing the bare expanse of his broad back. Its rippled smoothness teased the dim morning light, creating a display of light and dark. Connor inhaled.
She pursed her lips and forced her gaze toward the kitchen. Focus, Katy. You’ve a job to do. She’d failed miserably last night, falling asleep on the job and leaving Connor to fix the meal on his own. The results had been rather horrifying. No wonder Jenny was so thin if that was what she’d survived on. But this morning she would make up for that. She’d fix a big breakfast and prove to the sheriff she could earn her keep and maybe then the doubt and apprehension that riddled his handsome features would ease.
Letting the first weak strands of sunlight guide her, she carefully picked her way to the lantern sitting atop the cookstove. Her hand groped for the matches on a small, narrow shelf bolted to the wall behind it. The scrape of the match against the rough surface of the stove tore through the morning hush. Katherine held her breath until the quiet snoring from the other room continued undisturbed.
With deft swiftness Katherine built up a fire and then searched the pantry to determine what she had to work with. Supplies were running low and a trip to the mercantile would soon be in order. Did she do that? Or did she just give him a list, since he would be in town anyway? She’d never been a housekeeper before; though for eight years she’d managed whatever hovel Rogan holed her up in. She’d always tried to create a sense of home in each one, a definite chore when they were little more than shacks. It had given her something to do to break the monotony.
But it wasn’t just herself she needed to look after now. There was Connor and Jenny. And if last night was any indication, they were in desperate need of her help. She pulled ingredients from the pantry with renewed purpose and set to work.
An economy of movement kept the noise to a minimum as she fixed breakfast. Once the biscuit dough had been rolled out and cut, she placed the biscuits in the oven and took the last of the fresh eggs from the larder. The cracking of the shells against the crockery bowl echoed like a gunshot through the kitchen.
A quick check of the sofa revealed
“It must have been difficult to find yourself alone. Did you have any people at all?”
She shook her head and continued scrubbing the dishes with a vigor that would have made Amelia proud. But sadness tinged her tone when she answered. “No. No family. I’m alone.”
“I’m sorry.” In the gaping absence of her family, his words sounded wholly inadequate.
“Thank you,” she whispered. Her shoulders relaxed a little and the intense scrubbing eased. She pulled the dish from the pan and set it on the counter. “I guess we all have our burdens. What about you? Is your family nearby?”
Connor’s gaze drifted over to Jenny, who up until now had been sitting quietly in her chair. Whether she had been listening to them or not, he couldn’t say. Connor smiled warmly at her. “It’s just Jenny and me.”
Kate squeezed the excess water from the washcloth and set it aside. Picking up the dishtowel, she turned and leaned her back against the counter. Amelia had done the same thing countless times, stood there talking to him while she cleared and cleaned the dishes. But somehow this was different. The air felt charged around them. And sure as shootin’ he had never once considered crossing the room and gathering Amelia up in his arms to plant a good solid—
Connor pushed out his chair and stood abruptly. “I should get Jenny ready for bed.”
***
The floorboard creaked beneath her weight. Katherine shifted her stance. She cringed and crouched down, trying to mesh with the shadows. A hesitant peek at the sofa revealed Connor had turned onto his side, away from her. The quilt had slipped down to bunch at his waist, revealing the bare expanse of his broad back. Its rippled smoothness teased the dim morning light, creating a display of light and dark. Connor inhaled.
She pursed her lips and forced her gaze toward the kitchen. Focus, Katy. You’ve a job to do. She’d failed miserably last night, falling asleep on the job and leaving Connor to fix the meal on his own. The results had been rather horrifying. No wonder Jenny was so thin if that was what she’d survived on. But this morning she would make up for that. She’d fix a big breakfast and prove to the sheriff she could earn her keep and maybe then the doubt and apprehension that riddled his handsome features would ease.
Letting the first weak strands of sunlight guide her, she carefully picked her way to the lantern sitting atop the cookstove. Her hand groped for the matches on a small, narrow shelf bolted to the wall behind it. The scrape of the match against the rough surface of the stove tore through the morning hush. Katherine held her breath until the quiet snoring from the other room continued undisturbed.
With deft swiftness Katherine built up a fire and then searched the pantry to determine what she had to work with. Supplies were running low and a trip to the mercantile would soon be in order. Did she do that? Or did she just give him a list, since he would be in town anyway? She’d never been a housekeeper before; though for eight years she’d managed whatever hovel Rogan holed her up in. She’d always tried to create a sense of home in each one, a definite chore when they were little more than shacks. It had given her something to do to break the monotony.
But it wasn’t just herself she needed to look after now. There was Connor and Jenny. And if last night was any indication, they were in desperate need of her help. She pulled ingredients from the pantry with renewed purpose and set to work.
An economy of movement kept the noise to a minimum as she fixed breakfast. Once the biscuit dough had been rolled out and cut, she placed the biscuits in the oven and took the last of the fresh eggs from the larder. The cracking of the shells against the crockery bowl echoed like a gunshot through the kitchen.
A quick check of the sofa revealed
Similar Books
