Page 8 of A Steadfast Heart
Quade guided his horse closer to her, away from the tall grass beside the path. “Why are you headed to the McGraws’?”
And wasn’t that the question. Not like she could tell him what she was running from, and she wasn’t sure what she was running to. She forced a light laugh. “That would be telling. It wouldn’t be fair to give you the gossip before anyone else, now, would it?”
His hands tightened on the reins. “I’m not the kind to indulge in gossip, Miss Montgomery, but I do like to look out for my neighbors.”
“Have you been neighbors long?”
“Years.” He glanced her way. “Long enough to know them well. Their spread is small and like to get smaller.”
“I see.” Not that she really did. If they were to lose land, wouldn’t they lose it all?
“Not like my place. I’ve got the biggest spread in the area. Largest herd too.”
There we go. His weak spot. If she could get him talking about his ranch, he’d quit pushing her for information. At least for now.
“How’d you get started out here?”
“Got lucky in the mines west of here. Earned enough to buy my first spread. Added to it as opportunities came.”
He told her the story of his spread. She only understood about half of it, but she nodded in what she hoped were appropriate places. When he wound down, he asked, “What about your family?”
A topic she’d like to forget. “My parents died when I was young. I have one brother named Anthony.” Not that he used that name, since he liked his middle name better. “He runs the family business.”Runs it into the ground, that is.“Do you have a family?”
Was that a flash of disappointment? It passed too quickly for her to be sure.
“Three daughters.” He glanced down at his hands on the reins. “My wife passed several years ago.”
Disappointment over daughters, or grief over his wife? It could have been either. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Still, three girls that are worth their weight in gold. Nothing like that crew of McGraw’s. I figure he’s wised up and hired a tutor for those hooligans of his. You’ll have your hands full. Those kids have run wild since their mama left on a train.” There was something calculating in his gaze, waiting for her response.
Her hands jerked. Drew’s letter had said he was a widower. How could he be asking for a bride if he still had a wife?Think, Kaitlyn. Don’t reveal what you know. Or think you know.“Left?”
“She ran off. Got tired of fighting against the land, and even more, fighting with her husband.”
Kaitlyn bit her lip. She’d built up Drew McGraw in her head since reading and re-reading the letter she’d found at the station. The man who’d written it was thoughtful, intentional. Not eloquent or long-winded. She’d pictured him as kind. Like her father on most days.
But if what Mr. Quade had said was true, Kaitlyn had been completely wrong.
What had she gotten herself into?
* * *
No luck. Wasn’t that the story of his life?
Drew backed away from the brambles he’d been searching. Where had Curly gone to give birth? He’d have thought a cow that had been bottle-raised would find safety nearer the house when her time came, but he’d spent the last several hours searching and found no sign of her. That wasn’t unusual. Cows liked to pick remote places to give birth.
He strode back to his roan’s side and swung into the saddle. Solomon had seen him through many an adventure, but the stallion was surely feeling the cold just as much as Drew. In the wooded areas, the trees blocked what little warmth the sun provided. Late March, and they still had snow on the ground.
Didn’t matter. He had to find that cow. Curly Jo was the first calf David had bottle-raised. She’d been missing since yesterday, and Drew was determined to find her.
Drew had returned to the ranch a week ago without the new ma he’d promised the children. Their responses had demonstrated all the problems he’d hoped his wife would find a way to solve. If anything, their disappointment had made the issues worse.
David had said little, as if having a ma made no difference one way or the other.
Or maybe the girls’ extreme responses had hidden David’s. Jo had muttered “Good riddance” and been almost pleasant for the next couple of hours. Tillie’s crying had ended the happy interlude. Jo had snapped at her sister and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her.
Tillie. Well, Tillie was the reason Drew found the cold outdoors more comfortable than the warm living room. Her expression had crumpled as she’d asked, “Don’t she want us no more, Pa?”
