Page 13 of A Steadfast Heart
“Miss Fitzsimmons, we have nothing more to say. I can’t imagine what you’re doing here—” His thundering voice stopped abruptly as he reached the doorway. “Who are you?”
Oh, he was handsome. Or would be if he were smiling. Dark hair peeked out from under his almost-black cowboy hat. He was taller than Michael, his shoulders wider. His eyes were the color of pewter and equally cold. A shiver passed through her. He was inspecting her with the same expression she might use when looking at a bug that had crawled onto her dinner.
She bit her lip. “Are you Drew McGraw?”
He nodded, remaining framed in the doorway.
He’s only a man. One who needs my help. Kaitlyn pushed away the trickle of unease that wanted to become a flood. No matter how strong he appeared, his letter had made it clear his children needed a mother.
She swept a look up—way up—to his face, then back to his feet. His shirt and pants were wet in places and stained red in others. Was that blood? And why didn’t he move?
“Who are you?” His deep voice had softened, but retained an edge of annoyance.
“Um, you see…” Kaitlyn clutched the back of the chair by the fireplace. Her pulse raced. Where were all her fine arguments? She’d practiced this moment for three days on the train, but none of the polished phrases returned to her mind. “This isn’t going how I planned.”
“Plan? What plan?”
Finally, he strode across the room and stopped by the fireplace. His presence seemed to shrink the room.
“What are you doing here?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“My name is Kaitlyn Montgomery.” Footsteps sounded overhead. The children. She lowered her voice. “I’m here to answer your ad. For a mail-order bride.”
For a moment, his only movement was a muscle twitching along his jaw. Then his eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the children pounded down the stairs. Tillie ran to Drew and threw her arms around his legs. “There’s a princess here, Pa, ’cept, we’re not s’posed to say that, cause she’s running from the evil stepmother. But you’ll protect her, won’t you, Pa?”
Kaitlyn’s gut plunged. The girl had said the words with pure innocence. She couldn’t have guessed how close her assessment was to the truth.
David and Jo lagged on the last stair, watching.
Drew gave Kaitlyn a dark look before he reached down and disentangled his daughter. “Why don’t you take our visitor into the kitchen for a cup of water.”
The smile he gave Tillie gentled his expression, but Kaitlyn’s jitters didn’t ease. After all, he hadn’t smiled at her. Hadn’t responded to her statement. And now he was sending her out of the room.
Tillie took Kaitlyn’s hand. “Come on, Princess. The kitchen’s this way.”
Kaitlyn followed the little girl past the dining table and chairs and into the kitchen.
She could hear Drew’s voice behind her. “I brought a new calf down. Nick is in the barn and will need your help with it. Her mama didn’t make it.”
Kaitlyn felt a burst of compassion as she followed Tillie to the counter where a bucket and dipper rested. There was a murmur of voices from the parlor and then an exclamation from David.
“No! Curly’s not dead!”
“I’m sorry, son. We gave her a good?—”
“She can’t be dead. Why didn’t you do something to help her?”
Tillie tugged at Kaitlyn’s skirt. She had a dipper of water in her hand, her lip caught between her teeth.
Kaitlyn took the dipper from her, took a sip, and replaced it in the barrel. “Who was Curly?”
In the other room, a door opened and slammed shut.
Tillie’s lip trembled. “She was David’s special cow. Do cows go to heaven like my mama did?”
So Drewwasa widower.
Kaitlyn knelt down to face the girl. What should she say? What had her mother told her, back when her pony died?
