Page 11 of A Steadfast Heart
He rode on, listing the things he would need to do tomorrow.
Starting with finding a new source of lumber.
Then he noticed the strange horse tied to the corral fence. Company? When all he wanted was clean clothes and a hot cup of coffee?
And they wouldn’t be bringing good news. Not unless his luck had changed drastically in the last thirty minutes.
Chapter3
No one was home.
Kaitlyn eyed the scratched-up door she’d hoped someone would open. One of its hinges must need tightening since the door drooped to one side. Hollyhocks straggled here and there at the front of the house. Someone had cared enough to plant them at one point in time. They just needed a little coddling.
“Who are you?” a young voice demanded from behind her.
Kaitlyn spun, the porch boards shifting beneath her feet.
Two girls and a boy watched her from the bottom of the steps. The suspicious question must have come from the middle child. She stood in front, her hair in a single braid that hung over her shoulder, her grimy hands on her denim-clad hips. Did all females wear pants in the West? No, she’d seen plenty of women in dresses on the train and at depots.
“Jo, where are your manners?” The older boy nudged his sister. His mud-spattered pants ended two inches above his ankles, and the muck on his boots had a suspicious odor. The youngest child stood next to him, wearing a too-short dress that was stained and in need of a wash.
Misgivings swamped her. Were these ragamuffins her soon-to-be charges? The lace at the neckline of the blouse she wore under her tweed jacket seemed to mock her desire to fit in.
The middle girl shoved her brother. “Don’t you talk to me about manners, David McGraw. Anyone can see she don’t belong here.” Jo strode toward the steps and Kaitlyn.
Her brother, a head taller, rushed forward and wrapped his arms around her from behind, hoisting her off her feet while staying away from her flailing legs. “Don’t matter who she is, Jo, exceptin’ she’s our guest.”
His sister’s elbow found his stomach. He flinched but kept her feet off the ground.
Uncertainty plagued Kaitlyn. These brawling children belonged to Drew McGraw?
She swallowed hard as she turned to track their tussle. She had survived Michael. She could survive three pint-sized hooligans.
She took a step forward, and her skirt rose nearly to her ankles, as if snagged. Cheeks heating, she snatched the fabric of her skirt and gave it a good tug.
She met the guileless brown eyes of the youngest, who must have slipped up beside her while the other two wrestled. “I’s just checking your shoes.”
Kaitlyn could barely hear the girl’s voice over a dog who had joined the two older kids and added loud barks to the melee. “My shoes?”
“You must be a princess, so I wants to see if your shoes are glass.”
Kaitlyn smiled at the little girl, then glanced around to make sure she was alone with the kids. She raised her skirt just enough that her shoes showed.
The little one touched the toe of Kaitlyn’s shoe. “It’s leather, just like mine. Why isn’t it glass?”
“Don’t be dopey, Tillie. She’s not a princess.” Jo had escaped from her brother and marched up the stairs. David followed close behind.
“She is too.”
“Is not!”
“Is too.”
Tillie parked her hands on her hips and stuck her tongue out at her older sister. Jo lunged for Tillie, who backed into Kaitlyn’s legs.
Kaitlyn couldn’t control a flinch at the noise and turmoil surrounding her, but she forced a steadying breath, then lowered her skirt back to its full length. Mr. Quade had underestimated this crew.Wilddidn’t begin to cover it. She placed the ad and letter on top of the saddlebags by her feet. The letter that hadn’t said anything about his children being this boisterous.
Then again, he’d probably exchanged more than one letter with Leona. Maybe he’d been open with her in previous exchanges. At least he’d had the good sense to leave once he’d met his supposed bride in person.Mean-spiritedwas the kindest description she’d ever heard applied to Leona.
