LITMIR.BIZ

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on top of the hamper and bucket, taking care to not let it touch the dirty floor.

      “Not starving,” he answered. “But I wouldn’t turn down a bite to eat.” He gave her a challenging smile. “Not that I’m worried we’ll starve. There’s always that honey you have there.”

      “Bite your tongue—that’s for Cora Beth.” She doffed the hat he’d loaned her and bumped it against her skirts to shake some of the water off. “Besides, I don’t think it’ll come to that.” She removed the coat and gave it the same treatment. No point trailing water all through the place—all this dirt and dust would turn into a muddy mess. “The hamper has all of the stuff Cora Beth helped Viola pack for the folks at the ranch. I think they’ll forgive us if we help ourselves.” She tried to jab a few stray hairpins more securely on her head. “I know it’s nothing fancy but we can always pretend we’re on a picnic.”

      “Picnic fare sounds good. Given the situation, I’d say we’re lucky to have it.”

      “I’d say, rather, that the Good Lord was looking out for us.” She opened the sack and began digging around. “As far as other supplies, I found an old picnic blanket under the wagon seat, and I also have this sack of honey-gathering tools, including—” she straightened “this flint.”

      His eyes lit up at that. “Good. Because as far as I can tell the chimney is clear, and I think the first order of business should be to get a fire started so we can try to dry out.”

      “I agree.” She looked around as she crossed the room. “And there certainly seems to be a lot of material laying around that we can use for firewood. That old stool and those rickety benches both seem to be fit for nothing else. And the shutter on that window is already hanging by one rusty hinge.”

      He nodded, only glancing up briefly before resuming his work at the fireplace. “There’s a few pieces of actual firewood the last squatters left behind in the hearth. But we could really use some kindling. If you see any twigs or other bits of debris that would serve the purpose gather them up.”

      She took in the layers of dirt and debris surrounding them and wrinkled her nose. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

      Once he took the flint from her, she hung his hat and coat on two of the half dozen nails jutting from the mantel. The garments would fare much better there than on any of the dusty surfaces the cabin had to offer.

      In short order she had collected a goodly number of twigs, pecan husks and other flammable-looking bits and carried them to the hearth.

      She tamped down the urge to offer to lend a hand as she watched him arrange the kindling and bits of wood. Instead, she stood and surveyed the cabin. “If we’re going to be stuck here for a while, we might as well try to make it more comfortable. I don’t suppose you saw a broom anywhere?”

      He glanced up with a surprised expression, then shrugged. “Afraid not.” He looked at the floor with a grimace. “Too bad.”

      “Then I’ll just have to improvise. A leafy branch or bit of brush will work just about as well—bound to be lots of those handy. If you’ll loan me your pocketknife I’ll see what I can find.”

      He paused and frowned up at her. “You’re not going back out in that storm.”

      His commanding tone took her aback, but she kept her own tone light. “Don’t worry. I figure with the way things are grown up around here, there’ll be something right out the back door.”

      “Distance won’t matter in this downpour. You’ll be soaked as soon as you step outside.”

      So he was worried about her. Why did everyone think she couldn’t fend for herself? She spread her arms. “Can’t get much wetter than I already am. And you’ll have that fire going soon so I can dry out when I get back.” She shrugged and added a touch of firmness to her voice. “Besides, I’ve got to do something to keep busy.”

      He gave her a long, considering look, then apparently decided to let it go. “At least put the hat and coat back on.”

      “Of course.”

      It took some time, and quite a bit of shoving to get the back door opened, but when she looked at the rain-shrouded grounds behind the cabin Sadie gave a little crow of pleasure.

      “What is it?”

      She smiled over her shoulder. “I’ve found a real treasure back here. There’s a whole tangle of dewberry vines growing right up against the wall, and they’re ripe for the picking.”

      He sat up straighter. “Need some help?”

      “No, I can get them. Besides, you have your hands full getting that fire going and I plan to take full advantage of it when I get done.”

      Sadie snaked a hand toward the nearest vine. “I love dewberries.” She plucked two of the plump berries and popped them one after the other into her mouth. Savoring the way the juice exploded between her teeth, she scanned the overgrown patch of ground, trying to spy a likely bit of brush to use as her makeshift broom. No point heading into the weather until she had her quarry in sight.

      There! That one should work. She sprinted out into the rain and made quick work of breaking off the targeted bit of brush. In the process she caught sight of a stout stick on the ground. Scooping it up, she headed back to the house. Leaning her brush-broom against the inside wall, she shook out her skirts, then reached back to pluck a few more berries.

      Crossing the room with her two offerings, she smiled at the sight of the crackling flames. “Oh good, you’ve got the fire going.”

      “The chimney is clear enough to draw the smoke, thank goodness.”

      She held out the stout branch. “Look what I found. I thought you might be able to use it as a walking stick.”

      The relief and approval on his face sent an answering warmth through her.

      “Thanks.” He took the stick and used it to leverage himself up. Placing his weight on it, he took a couple of hobbling steps to test it out. “Perfect.”

      “Good. Now here, try some of these.”

      He stared at the berries she held out but didn’t make a move to take them. “You picked them, you eat them.”

      She waved away his concern. “Oh, don’t be silly—I’ve already had a handful.” From the look on his face she reckoned he didn’t get called silly often. “There are lots more on those vines. This is just a little snack to keep our strength up. I plan to pick a whole passel more once I’ve gotten some of the cleanup done.” She raised her hand a bit closer to his face and slid the berries back and forth under his nose.

      After rolling his eyes, he took half of the berries and popped one into his mouth. “Delicious.”

      “Nothing like berries fresh from the vine. Here take the rest so I can get to work.” She held up her other hand, palm out.

      With a nod and a thank you, he accepted the rest of her offering.

      That was better. The man just needed someone to stand up to him occasionally. And this afternoon was as good a time as any.

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