Page 40 of Willing to Wed the Rancher
Franz crossed to a knitted blanket on the sofa, retrieved it, then draped it over her shoulders.
His fingers lingered on her shoulder for a moment before he stepped back. “How is that? Better?”
She wrapped the blanket tightly around her and nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”
He picked up his hat from a peg beside the door but hesitated putting it on.
She’d kept him too late. “I’m sorry that now you have to ride back to town in the darkness.”
“You will lock the door after I leave?”
She nodded, but all the trepidation from earlier in the day came rushing back. If the killer wanted to get inside, would he break a window? Was she really safe staying by herself? “Maybe I should go back to High C Ranch tomorrow and live with Maverick for a while.”
Franz fidgeted with the brim of his hat. “Yes. At least until we know more.”
“I’ll do it tomorrow night.”
He nodded, continuing to bend his hat. “That is good. But I am not comfortable leaving you and the children alone here tonight.”
She smiled at him, hoping to put him at ease. “We’ll be fine one more night.” At least, she prayed so.
He hung his hat back up on the peg, then squared his shoulders and faced her. His hard, curved jaw was more chiseled than usual. “I cannot go.”
“It’s all right. I don’t want to impose.”
“No, I will not be able to ride away and have any peace.”
She knew she ought to protest more adamantly, but she couldn’t force the words she needed to say—that it was completely inappropriate for them to stay together in the same house all night unchaperoned.
It wouldn’t be proper, and the rumors about them would only increase, especially once Franz attempted to clarify that they weren’t really married.
“Are you sure?” She had to voice some caution, didn’t she?
“I will sleep on the sofa.” He nodded to the small—and uncomfortable—piece of furniture that was frayed and worn.
She shook her head. “You can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
“I will be fine out here.”
“It’s the least I can do to repay you for your kindness.”
“I am the one who should be repaying you.”
She laughed lightly. “You’re too nice to me.”
“You deserve to have someone to dote on you and spoil you.”
“See. There you go again.” Already the fear that had gripped her was loosening.
“How about if we determine who gets the bed in a friendly game of checkers?” He cocked his head toward the checkerboard that sat on the side table.
“I must warn you that I’m a checker champion.” She returned to the sofa and lowered herself to her familiar spot.
She loved the distraction of the checker game and realized soon enough that he was letting her win on purpose. When she confronted him about his strategy, he gave her an endearing grin so that she didn’t have the heart to scold him.
All the while they played, he told her more about his childhood and the types of games he used to play with Eric and his father. Every time he shared more about his past, she could picture him as a boy and young man with his family, having adventures at his home near the lake that he so fondly talked about.
“If you and Eric were so close,” she said as she reclined her head against the sofa after winning another game of checkers—at least her tenth in a row, “why did he move to America?”
