Page 9 of A Dangerous Heart
A woman like her would go to great lengths to protect the people she loved.
“What kind of woman is that?” She tipped her head artfully.
But his eyes were sharp, not curious. “You said you know about farming and cooking, and you have two boys to help. And you’re a looker. You couldn’t find a man in all of Missouri to take you on?”
Clare felt a subtle flutter inside as Isaac’s words registered.A woman like youanda looker. Her face warmed as she realized Isaac McGraw thought she was pretty.
“What happened to your husband?”
What husband?It was on the tip of her tongue, but she caught the words just in time. She flicked a glance back at the boys, who didn’t seem to have heard.
“He’s gone.” She tried for a note of sadness and finality. It was true. Victor had left town on a job—she hadn’t asked more. And when her brother returned to the farm, he would find her and the boys gone.
“Things were getting difficult back in Missouri—taking care of the boys on my own. I had nobody to help with the farm. Seems like I was always scrimping for food.”
She was careful to tell the truth.
From under her lashes, she chanced a peek at him. He was watching her. His scrutiny was sharp, observant, and deliberate. A seasoned lawman assessing a suspect’s sincerity?
Why had she thought that? She quickly cut her gaze away.
Her dress sleeve had pulled up on her left arm, exposing an inch of a white scar. She carefully slid it down to her wrist. She had one more card to play. And nothing to lose.
She turned and waited for him to face her. Looked at him from beneath her lashes. “I was lonely,” she said.
The truth hit like a blow to her stomach.
For a moment, something sparked in the air between them. A shared recognition?
Was Isaac McGraw lonely too?
But then his eyes shuttered. “We’re on McGraw land now. The homestead isn’t far, and the whole family will be waiting.”
Her face burned. All her charms fell flat on this rancher. She stole another glance at his profile. He was a complete mystery to her. But she would figure him out. She had to.
The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the valley and the misty mountains farther away. From this distance, Isaac saw David disappear into the barn and had to quash a second bout of irritation toward the boy.
Isaac’s instincts had sent him to the train station after Drew had talked Isaac into going to town for supplies.
His instincts had been right. David had ducked away and slipped into the crowd the moment Clare and those boys had stepped off the train. Isaac couldn’t help being angry at the mess his nephew had created. David was usually a good kid. What had gotten into him?
The woman beside him had gone silent a few miles ago. When he’d informed her they were close to home, her eyes had devoured the landscape. He caught her short, sudden intake of breath followed by a faint “oh” as the wagon and its weary crew rolled up and over the last hill and the homestead came fully into view. Her shoulders straightened, fingers tightening around the edge of the bench seat. The youngest boy had fallen asleep, his head resting against a sack of flour. The oldest watched the scenery with careful interest.
Isaac hadn’t let himself look at her full on since the train platform but couldn’t erase the image from his memory. She was striking. Beautiful. The kind of quiet beauty that settled under a man’s skin without him realizing it. His eyes swept over her now.Her brown work dress was plain, but it suited her. What caught him, though, was the shawl she’d draped around her shoulders. Soft brown with a wide stripe of cream and blue that wrapped around her like a protective arm. Its wispy fringe swayed with the motion of the wagon, brushing lightly against her creamy cheeks. The touch of it seemed to soften her face even more, drawing his eyes when he knew better than to look.
Their gazes caught for a moment. She had the kind of eyes that flashed warmth, and a wide, expressive mouth that could distract a man less cynical than him. Now those eyes shone with pleasure while her lips parted in awe.
“It’s lovely,” she said, barely above a whisper.
Her admiration sparked something inside him. How many times had he ridden up this road? With Clare beside him, he was seeing it with new eyes.
The barn, the bunkhouse, the fenced paddock where several horses grazed, weather-worn but well maintained by the labor and grit of three generations of McGraws. His chest tightened with both pride and the suffocating need to escape.
A thread of smoke drifted from the chimney of the main homestead, evidence that a fire still burned in the hearth. Drew and Kaitlyn sat on chairs pulled from the kitchen to the front stoop, mugs in hand. Isaac swallowed, almost tasting the strong brew.
A dog barked. A blur of tan, black, and white chased circles around Tillie. Her blonde braids swinging, she tried to pivot but tumbled to the grass. Isaac saw a flash of her as a toddler, when he’d catch her from falling and swing her into his arms.
“Stop.” Tillie shrieked and giggled as his brother Nick’s shepherding dog furiously licked her face.
