air that wasn’t polluted with cigar smoke and cheap perfume. He liked feeling like he was doing some good even though it was hard work. Tomorrow he’d probably be lucky if he could get out of bed.
If he was going to list his likes, he’d have to add liking being with M. She played no games, never flirted with him or tried to manipulate him. He knew she didn’t like him and within a few minutes he’d figured out that if he tried to impress her, she’d probably send him back to the barn. So for the most part, he just tried his best and kept his mouth closed.
Half the time he felt like a bumbling idiot around her, and the other half she was reminding him that his feelings were accurate. He didn’t know how to pretend with her, how to play games. About the time he decided she was more man than he’d ever be, she’d pulled away from his touch. He’d seen the hurt flash in her eyes for a second. All he’d done was touch her shoulder. Her reaction was that of a wounded animal. He’d give a rich pot to know what had made her react so.
“How was your day?” Rose asked as she passed him a basket of bread.
“What?” Lewt had heard the words, but he couldn’t climb out of his thoughts long enough to think of an answer.
Rose smiled. “When Sumner told me you rode out to check the herd, I was surprised. Exhausting, isn’t it?”
“Very.” He smiled at the beautiful lady, silently thanking her for erasing the awkwardness. “You do have a beautiful ranch, Miss Rose.”
“Thank you, Lewt. I sometimes forget what a wonderful place this is, and then I leave for a few days and remember. When Emily and I were away at school we used to lie in bed every night and take turns describing details of the ranch and laughing about all the things we’d do when we got home. Those were the two loneliest years of my life. If it hadn’t been for my sister, I’m not sure I would have survived. Every break, when we’d come home all excited and leave crying, my mother felt our homesickness. When it was Bethie’s turn to go, the thought of her having to go alone broke our hearts. Mama talked my papa into letting her have tutors come in. He said any finishing Bethie needed could be taught by us.”
She patted his arm. “Now don’t you think our little sister’s education was lacking. She speaks French and can write poems as fine as the old masters, in my opinion. And, thanks to private tutors, she can play the piano so beautifully the angels cry with joy.”
Lewt smiled and tried to follow Rose’s soft voice, but his mind was wondering, thinking about how he’d worked with M to doctor a few of the stock, then later how he’d watched her long fingers slide over the cotton of the bandage across his leg. His touch might frighten her half to death, but her touch certainly didn’t have that effect on him.
“Lewt, you must try one of these buttermilk biscuits. Bethie made them, you know. She’s a grand cook, though her art and sewing take up much of her time.”
He took a biscuit and tried to keep his mind on the conversation as Rose continued to praise her sister. It crossed his mind that maybe Rose was building up Bethie a little too much.
Lewt looked down the table as Beth laughed at something Davis said. Maybe the green-eyed beauty had told her sister she was interested in him. That’s it, he reasoned. There was a chance the impossible might just happen.
The reverend had made a rule that the seating changed every night, so Lewt knew he’d be sitting next to either Beth or Emily tomorrow night. Beth might be interested in him, but he planned to take his time and visit with each of the girls. It was only fair.
He smiled at Rose and tried to think of something to say. She was truly lovely, and black-haired women had always been his favorite. Her dark eyes seemed those of a very old soul. If he married Rose, they’d have long talks in the evening and she’d worry about him as all caring wives do.
But as he looked into her dark eyes, he remembered the blue eyes he’d seen this afternoon and how frightened they’d looked. He could think of nothing to say but,