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west in the autumn. Even if there were any supply trains at that time of year, it would be suicide. And any shorter time than that wouldn’t be a fair trial, would it?”

      The words sounded reasonable, the way he put it, and she cleared her throat, her mind boggling at the idea of spending a year in the company of this man.

      Enough that he was tall and well muscled, his shirt fitting him as if it were tailor-made to cover those broad shoulders. Add to that the very masculine presence he exuded, all tanned and well-put-together, with those dark eyes gleaming as if they knew secrets beyond her comprehension.

      He almost frightened her, this benefactor who had given her the choice of eking out an existence on the edge of his property or following him to his home. He seemed kindly enough, but there was about him a power she didn’t understand, as if a magnetic field surrounded him and she was being drawn into its depths.

      Now he watched her, with a patience she wouldn’t have credited him with, as if allowing her to choose. When in reality there was no choice. Behind her was Green Rapids and the sufferance of strangers. Ahead, only the uncertainty of the unknown.

      And smack in the middle was Cord McPherson.

      “All right, but not quite a year. Come spring, March or April, I’ll decide, soon as the first chance to go west comes in sight. I’ll have to have enough money on hand to buy a pair of oxen.”

      Tom Clemons had been right, she admitted to herself. Horses weren’t sturdy enough for the rigors of the trail.

      She bit at her lip, determined to give the man an honest bargain. “And if it doesn’t work out before then, if you find that I’m not suitable for the job, you’ll let me know,” she offered.

      His eyes made a quick survey of her, his broad hands spread wide against his hipbones, the reins trailing from between his fingers as his horse waited patiently.

      “All right.” He nodded finally, his gaze dark, his eyes holding a subdued excitement. “If you can’t make the grade, I’ll let you know.” His mouth twisted into a shadow of a grin, as if he would not allow any levity to dilute the serious aspects of their agreement.

      Rachel wiped her palm against her skirt and offered it in his direction. “Do we have a deal, Mr. McPherson?” she asked firmly, her breath catching in her throat as she realized the enormity of this undertaking.

      His lean, callused fingers grasped hers and he held them firmly. “We have a deal, Rachel.”

      

      It took less than an hour to load their pitiful belongings into the wagon, close up the shack and be on their way. Cord harnessed the horses, admiring their plump, sleek lines, due probably to the lush grasses of his valley, he surmised with a subdued grin.

      He worked rapidly, leading the team to the cabin door, where Rachel waited beside an assortment of crates and boxes. In moments, he had the wagon in place, the reins tied to a low branch of the nearest tree, lest the horses take it in their heads to return to the rich pastureland on the other side of the stream.

      “How long you been here?” he asked, satisfied finally that the team was secure.

      “A few weeks.” She lifted a box he deemed beyond her strength and he took it from her, their hands brushing as he eased it from her arms.

      “I can get it!” Her pride glittered from blue eyes that scorned his aid.

      He nodded. “I imagine you can, but there’s no need.”

      She turned away, bending to lift one end of a trunk the boys were struggling to shove through the doorway. And then as she stood erect, he was there once more, close behind her.

      His big hands gripped her waist and he spoke gruffly against the dark braid she’d coiled on top of her head.

      “Stand back, Rachel. I’ll tend to this. The boys can help me.”

      She shivered in his grasp and he heard her indrawn breath. “I’m stronger than you think,” she told him, her voice containing a faint breathlessness. And then she lowered the trunk, stepping away to retreat toward the waiting wagon.

      “I’ve not underestimated you, Rachel,” he said, lifting one end of the trunk with ease. He waited till her brothers passed the doorway, then, lifting the bulk of the weight, he helped them ease their burden into the wagon.

      She watched him warily and her hesitant air amused him. He had her on the run, off balance and acquiescent. Just as he’d hoped, she was going along with his plan. Now if he could keep her moving, he’d have the thing accomplished before she caught her breath.

      “This won’t take long.” With a hand on each of their heads, Cord turned the two boys back toward the shack.

      Willingly, they followed his lead and in minutes, the motley assortment of boxes and crates had been loaded. Her mother’s rocker and feather ticks, along with her hand-carved dresser, topped the load. Their faces alight with admiration, Jay and Henry watched as the pile was secured with a rope taken from Cord’s saddle.

      “That didn’t take any time, did it, Rae?” Jay’s enthusiasm was evident, his cheeks flushed with excitement as he launched himself over the tailgate.

      She shook her head, scraping up a smile for the small boy’s benefit. “No, you were a big help, Jay.”

      “You want to take a look in the shack, make sure you haven’t forgotten anything?” Cord’s husky voice prompted her and Rachel nodded, hurrying toward the doorway.

      It was cool inside, only a trace of sunlight slanting across the floor from the single window. She looked around, taking in the dilapidated furnishings, the dirt floor and the dust motes that filtered down from the rafters. Already, the place held a deserted air.

      Another few days and the last trace of crumbs on the floor would be eaten by stray critters, the wind would whistle through the broken door at night, and it would be as if they had never been there.

      She shivered at the thought and turned away. “I think we’re ready,” she said, squinting against the sunlight as she passed through the doorway.

      Cord set the door in place and gave her his hand, lifting her to the wagon seat. “Let’s get on with it, then.”

      Rachel lifted the reins and looked down at Henry. He’s growing, she thought. His head comes above my shoulder now. From behind her, Jay was making impatient noises, and she cast him a glance of warning.

      Cord’s big gelding moved ahead of her, leading the way. She slapped the leather straps against the broad backs of her team, urging them to move out.

      “He’s nice, isn’t he, Rae?” Henry’s words were soft, meant only for her ears, and she nodded her reply.

      The boy reached into his pocket, lifting on one hip to snake the long licorice whip from its depths.

      “You’ve still got candy left?” she asked, smiling at his frugality.

      “Yeah. Want a bite?” Gnawing off a length, he offered the treat in her direction.

      “No. Thanks anyway.” Perhaps he’d have more than a piece of candy now and then, once she managed to save a little money. Maybe she could afford to do better by the boys if this job panned out

      She drew a deep breath, glancing up at the sky, where clouds rode in billowing herds…where the sun cast its muted rays on the earth below. And then that brilliant orb burst forth from behind a cloud bank, allowing the undiluted splendor of sunlight to wash over her surroundings.

      As if it were a sign, a prediction of good things to come, she basked in its warmth. Her gaze drawn again to the man who rode before her, she smiled, admiring the straight line of his back, the easy movement of his body as he sat astride his horse.

      And wondered at the shiver of delight that coursed through her body as she considered him.

      

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