LITMIR.BIZ

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have a lot of wear left in them,” she put in quickly. “Maybe next week we can look at new overalls.”

      Cord reached down a hand to her as she peered up at him. “Let me give you a hoist up,” he offered.

      Accepting his broad hand, she placed her foot on the wagon hub, and he lifted her to sit beside him. “They’ll be happy with boots,” she told him, settling her skirts around her.

      He bent to her, watching as she tied her bonnet in place. Then, following an urge he’d resisted more than once in the past few days, he brushed at a stray wisp of hair that clung to her face.

      She flushed at the gesture and turned her head, her fingers rising to spread across the rosy surface of her cheek. His touch had been gentle and unexpected, his fingertips a bit rough from the calluses he bore.

      “Rachel?” He reached for her again, this time to cradle her chin within his grasp, turning her to face him.

      “We need to be on our way,” she mumbled, unwilling to meet his gaze, flustered by his attention. “I can’t be gone all day with dinner cooking on the stove.”

      “Look at me.” It was a command, delivered in a low, yet forceful voice, and she obeyed.

      “You have no reason to fear me, Rachel,” he said firmly. “I’m old enough to know my place and decent enough to remain there.”

      “I’m not afraid of you,” she whispered, her voice catching in her throat

      It was a lie. There was about him something she feared, some unknown threat he offered that caused a trembling in her belly.

      The level look he sent in her direction across the kitchen sometimes was enough to set her heart scampering, and his kindness to her brothers gave her a warmth deep inside, and made him tall in her sight.

      “Aren’t you?” His eyebrow quirked as if he doubted her brave words, and then he flicked the reins against the backs of his team and they set off for Green Rapids.

      

      There was no doubt about it. Mr. Conrad Carson was more than taken with Miss Rachel Sinclair. Cord watched from his post next to the cracker barrel as his cook chose boots for her brothers. And all the while, Conrad smiled and joked as he offered one pair, then another for her approval.

      Kneeling before the boys, he took their measure, then tried on the boots Rachel pointed out. With only a moment’s hesitation, he assured her that her limited resources would be sufficient to cover the cost of two pair, and then his gaze rose, his eyes meeting Cord’s with a trace of warning in their depths.

      “I’ll handle the difference, if she runs out of funds,” Cord said, his mouth twisting in a parody of a polite smile.

      Conrad flushed a bit. “Miss Rachel can choose what she pleases, Mr. McPherson. I’m sure we can work something out.”

      Rachel’s eyes widened as she looked first at one man, then the other. “I thought—”

      “You have enough money for the boots,” Carson cut in smoothly. He grinned at the two boys, who were stomping their feet and marching up and down the aisle, admiring their new footwear. “Probably even enough for a couple of licorice whips for each,” he added, counting Rachel’s meager funds into his cash drawer.

      Jay’s head turned quickly at the mention of candy. “Can we, Rae?” he asked hopefully.

      “We got boots, Jay,” Henry reminded him quickly, as if he would relieve Rachel of the burden of refusal.

      Cord cleared his throat. “I expect my two new hands have enough wages coming to them to buy a bag of candy, Conrad. See what they want, will you?”

      Rachel’s gaze met his and she bit at her lip. “I don’t want you putting any more money out than is right, Cord.”

      She was more than a temptation, he thought. And too much woman for Conrad Carson.

      Cord took two long strides to where she waited by the counter, one hand rising to rest on her shoulder.

      “They’ve been a help, Rachel. I’m sure at least a nickel’s worth each.” He raised his voice, catching the attention of the trio who were intent on the contents of the candy jars. “Give them each a bag and let them choose five cents worth, Conrad.”

      The younger man looked up, nodding, and then halted, his eyes narrowing as his gaze swept over Cord to Rachel, fastening on Cord’s possessive gesture. He’d gotten the message, Cord decided with satisfaction. Rachel was not up for grabs. His fingers tightened for just a moment, squeezing the narrow bones beneath her supple flesh, and she looked up at him in surprise.

      “We need to be getting back as soon as I help Conrad load my supplies on the wagon,” he told her.

      She nodded. “All right. I’ll have the boys change back to their old shoes and we’ll be right out”

      “Let them wear the new ones, Rachel. They can save the others for mucking out the chicken coop and cleaning stalls.” His mind traveled back quickly to childhood memories.

      “There’s nothing like a new pair of boots to set a boy’s heart to thumpin’ real good,” he said with a grin.

      He’d carried out nails and a roll of wire, come back in for the can of kerosene and met Conrad at the door, his arms wrapped around a wooden crate of fresh vegetables.

      “You don’t have a garden growing, Cord,” Rachel put in quickly. “Conrad gave me a good price on the peas and carrots. He’ll have fresh beans in by next week, he said.” Her explanation was hurried, as if she worried over his reaction, and Cord shook his head, watching as Conrad settled the crate on the back of the wagon.

      “You buy whatever you want, Rachel. The men are sick of canned stuff. Maybe it isn’t too late to put in a kitchen garden. I’ll ask Conrad for seeds.”

      “I’ve already told Miss Rachel I’d make up an assortment for her to plant,” Conrad said from the doorway. “I’ll bring them out to you tomorrow afternoon, if that’s all right,” he added, his gaze hopeful as he stepped into the store, watching the young woman for a sign of her acceptance.

      “I’d appreciate that,” she answered, a tentative smile touching her lips. “I’ll save you a piece of pie.” Her look at Cord was tinged with defiance as she turned to leave the store, and he grunted his own goodbyes.

      “Put everything on my bill, Conrad. I’ll pay up at month end,” he instructed harshly, casting one last look at the jaunty smile the storekeeper wore.

      Cord made a production of helping Rachel into the wagon, lifting her to the seat before he circled to the other side to take his place beside her.

      “I could have gotten up alone,” she said quietly, turning to him with a puzzled look.

      He lifted the reins, cracking them briskly over the backs of his team as they moved out at a smart pace. “Conrad’s wanting to court you, Rachel.” He hadn’t planned on being so blunt, but the words had come unbidden. “If you’re not thinking along those same lines, you shouldn’t encourage him.”

      “Encourage him?” Her voice rose sharply on the words. “I was polite, no more. If the gentleman wants to be accommodating and is willing to make a trip to bring out the garden seeds, I can surely offer him a piece of pie. That’s only being courteous, Mr. McPherson.”

      Beneath lifted brows, her cheeks bore rosy flags and her mouth was firmly drawn. Rachel was upset with him.

      He hid a smile as he took inventory of her. Stiff and unbending, she rode beside him, her fingers retying the strings of her bonnet, her mouth primly closed. The deep breaths she took as she fanned the flames of her anger lifted her bosom in an enticing fashion and he allowed the smile to widen as his gaze rested there for a moment.

      She could fuss all she wanted. Rachel Sinclair would be his, perhaps not as quickly as he’d like,

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