wrong with Em’s great plan to avoid the potential bridegrooms lay in the fact that she had to miss most of her time with her sisters. They’d developed a habit, these weeks alone, of each listing everything they did each day. Em found it interesting and she knew that when each finished describing her day, none would have traded with the other.
After pouring herself a cup of coffee, she walked toward the only other light in the house. It glowed from the mudroom.
When she saw Lewt in the tub, surprise almost made her drop her coffee cup. He hadn’t bothered to draw the drape over the corner. Maybe he hadn’t even noticed it tucked away beside the windows.
His arms were over the sides, his knees out of the water, and his head propped against a towel at his shoulder. The low lamp offered little light. He was so still he could have been a painting. Even the soapy water seemed to belong more to a canvas than to life.
Em took a step closer. He looked younger asleep, she thought. The hardness in his jaw that said he’d fight the world alone if he had to was gone. Even though she’d spent the day with him, she knew less about him than about the other two men who’d invaded their quiet life.
When she’d met with her sisters late last night, they’d both learned far more about Boyd and Davis than she’d learned about Lewt Paterson. He’d said he was from the east but had not named a town. She heard no eastern accent in his voice. Yet looking at him now, it was easy to see that the man spent little time in the sun. Except for his face and hands, his body looked lean and pale. His wet brown hair appeared almost black in the light.
Em wished, for the hundredth time, that Duncan had sent them more information about the men he’d picked to meet them. He’d said they were all three from good families. If so, Lewt’s family must rarely venture outside.
Duncan had written that they were all three well off financially. Maybe Lewt came from a family of bankers who never did anything but sit around and count their money. That would explain the blisters and tiny cuts he’d gotten yesterday from a day’s work.
She could see the line of blisters along his open palm. He was a man not used to working for a living. Part of her thought less of him for it. Part of her admired his willingness to try. He’d obviously stepped into a foreign world yesterday, and he’d done so at a run.
Backing slowly into the kitchen, she pulled out a skillet and began making eggs, hoping the noise would wake him up. She wasn’t sure she was brave enough to wake a man in a bathtub. It would probably embarrass them both to death.
About the time she’d set the table for two and the eggs were ready, he appeared in the doorway between the mudroom and the kitchen. His hair was combed back and still looked damp, but he was dressed all the way down to the borrowed worn work boots he wore.
“Oh,” she said, as if surprised to see him. “I came in through the front. I didn’t know anyone was up.”
“I was just washing up.” He watched her carefully, showing no sign of having been asleep.
He must be an early riser. A strange habit for a man who didn’t work, she thought.
“No suit today?” Em couldn’t help but notice he was wearing the same clothes she’d given him last night. She noticed a bloodstain just above one knee. His wound had bled a little after she’d stitched it.
“Are you still going to allow me to ride with you today?” He walked almost within reaching distance from her and stopped.
She poured him a cup of coffee and handed it to him before she answered. “If you’re up for it. I guess you can tag along.”
“I am,” he answered, as if she couldn’t see the damage the day before had done to him.
“Do you want me to check the cut?”
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I’ve already put a fresh dressing on the wound. The bleeding has stopped, thanks to your excellent stitching.” He glanced at the skillet she was holding. “I wouldn’t mind sharing those eggs, if you’re offering.”
She smiled. “I am. I guessed you’d be up early again, so I made enough for two.”
“How thoughtful,” he said, pulling out his