Page 93 of Unwilling Wolf

Lenny opened the door and came in. “Garret’s out rounding up cattle with the boys. He said to let you sleep in today.”

She blinked sleepily at the window. Full, undiluted sunlight streamed through it. Sleep in she had. “In my defense, he told me to sleep longer,” she explained through a grin.

Eliza stretched and poured ungracefully out of the bed to get ready. Since the boys were out in the pasture, she was going to relieve her bladder in her shift. When she returned, she dressed and washed her face. Lenny waited in the chair Garret had occupied last night.

“What needs to be done today, then?” Eliza asked.

“I was going to wash the men’s clothes, and mine, if you want me to show you how.”

“Yes and yes.”

“And Cookie brought back a deer this morning, so we’ll need to take care of the meat since the boys are busy all day. I thought we could make a stew and then smoke the rest for later.”

In the night she’d awakened, and Garret’s solid arm had been around her. The feeling of safety it brought to her slumber had made her wish he would hold her forever. She would surely imagine such a moment a hundred times today.

“Eliza?” Lenny asked, her dark eyebrow arched high.

“Huh? Oh, right. You skin the deer, and I’ll make the stew.”

“Nice try,” Lenny said, smiling.

Hands on her waist, Eliza mumbled, “I wonder where Garret keeps his dirty clothing.”

In his room, she retrieved a dusty pair of thick cotton pants and two button-up shirts that smelled like her pillow had this morning. With one of the shirts clenched in her hands, she inhaled. Laundering them was almost a shame. The smell of his skin and fur would be washed away until he wore it again.

She hauled them out into the front yard, where Lenny had dragged a large washing bucket. Then she went to the hands’ cabin with Lenny, helped her pile the men’s soiled clothes into a double-handled tub and brought it back to the house. After gathering her own garments, the women set to the task of filling the tub and laundering.

Lesson learned after the first scorching of a good dress, so no washing the garments over the fire this time around. The process involved washboards and lye soap so raw, it made her skin tingle and itch. By the time the clothes were pinned on a line in the breeze, hours had passed. Her hands were red with irritation and the hair around her face damp from exertion. Aunt Elizabeth’s paid launderer back in Boston didn’t know it, but the burly woman now had her full and utmost respect.

Her hands were dry and itchy after scrubbing with the crude soap for so long, but Lenny seemed unaffected. Like her friend, hopefully Eliza would grow used to it over time.

The laundering completed, Lenny taught her how to prepare venison, and then took her out to a garden near the hands’ cabin. There they harvested a basket of vegetables and herbs for the stew they would be making. After a light lunch, they hung the venison to dry over a large fire they had contained in the back of the house. While Lenny strained the morning’s milk through a thin cloth to filter out debris and dirt, Eliza chopped vegetables and prepared the meat. She added them to the large kettle over the fire.

In the deep of evening, Eliza hauled the water for the washbasins so Garret would have one less chore when he finally came home. She was nearly to the front of the house, bucket in hand, when someone grabbed her from behind and spun her around. The water sloshed across the front of her dress. She gasped, both from shock and the feel of the cold water seeping through the fabric of her clothing.

Garret laughed in a way she’d never heard before. Not forced. This deep, booming laugh was natural.

Open-mouthed, she glared at him. Then, “Garret Shaw, look what you have done to my dress!”

He looked completely unapologetic, so she tossed a handful of water toward him. It dribbled pathetically across the front of his shirt. His bright eyes filled with mischief. She squeaked and tried her best to run away, the bucket of sloshing water in her hand. Laughing, he caught her easily and splashed another handful onto her dress, and while giggling, she tried to do the same to him.

Soon the water was gone and the game at an end. Which seemed even funnier, somehow.

“Now I shall have to refill the bucket, and after I spent all that time and effort hauling it up here,” she chided, still smiling.

He shrugged. “I’ll do it.”

The way he peered at her with a hungry look in his eyes made her heartbeat pick up its pace. She grew quiet and still. Garret closed the small distance between them and gently took the bucket from her. The bucket made a muffled sound against the grass as he set it on the ground.

He put his hands around her waist and gently pushed her backward until her back was against the side of the house. His chest lifted with his breathing, and his smile faded as he stared down at her, holding her gaze with his.

He leaned down and kissed her. It was tender, so very much unlike the other times he had pressed his lips to hers. She melted into him as he moved closer, her body forming perfectly to his. She took his hat off and tossed it on the ground beside them, brought her fingers up and sifted them through his hair, nibbled his bottom lip. A groan came from deep in his throat, a delicious sound that sent shivers through her. She stepped out from under him and headed for the front of the house, sashaying her hips. She peered back once.

A smirk played on his face as he watched her go.

“Dinner is on soon,” she quipped, grinning. “You seem very hungry tonight, Mr. Shaw. Lenny and I made enough for everyone, so I need you to tell the ranch hands…I mean, the Pack…to come and get it.”

He shook his head slowly and stooped to pick up his hat, dusted it off, then picked up the bucket and headed to refill it. “I’ll get ’em. We will be there real soon,” he promised.

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