couldn’t see himself spending the rest of his life with one of them. The only woman on the ranch that he was attracted to had made it plain she never wanted to marry. The day after the big party they’d all planned, he’d ride away from Whispering Mountain and probably never return. In fact, he doubted he’d ever be welcome after Duncan figured out what he’d done.
Miss Emily gave him a smile that lasted less than a blink and turned toward the hallway. “Mr. and Mrs. Watson are in the great room having sherry before dinner. If you’ll join them, I’ll check on the meal. I’m afraid without Rose’s or Mrs. Allender’s help, the girls only managed a simple meat pie tonight.”
Lewt wondered where the dueling gigglers were, but he didn’t ask. He’d been told one day at breakfast that they liked to sleep in after cleaning up from the night before, but he’d guessed they had helped with the rest of the meals. Apparently not.
Looking over at the counter, he saw two meat pies cooling, bread in need of slicing, one bowl of vegetables, and another of peaches. “How about I help you carry this stuff in?” He picked up the largest bowl.
“Oh, no, Mr. Paterson. I couldn’t let you.”
“But you’ll have to make several trips, and two people could cut the time in half.”
“Oh, no.” Emily looked so upset, he set the bowl back on the counter.
Em’s laughter came from the doorway. “Let him help or he’ll drive you crazy; I should know.” She walked past Emily and picked up one of the pies. “We’ll all three help.”
Miss Emily calmed and nodded as they marched in to dinner.
To his surprise Miss Emily seemed less at ease at the table than Em did. Em told everyone how Lewt had saved her life, and Mrs. Watson seemed very upset at the danger and very thankful at the outcome. Mr. Watson stopped the eating for a moment of thanks. Five minutes into the prayer, Lewt opened one eye and saw Em staring at him. They both spent the rest of the thanks fighting down laughter.
After dinner Lewt helped clear the table while the Watsons and Miss Emily moved to the great room, promising to set up a card game. By the time he and Em laughed their way through clearing the table, Mrs. Watson had Miss Emily settled into a comfortable chair with her sewing in her lap.
Mr. and Mrs. Watson had little interest in playing cards, leaving Em and Lewt at the game table alone. Within minutes Mr. Watson had found a book he simply had to read and Mrs. Watson was snoring in her chair, her knitting tangled in her hands like a worn fishing net.
“You two don’t have to entertain me. I’m fine,” Miss Emily said, but they both swore they were just passing time.
“What do you want to play?” Lewt asked, sensing that Em might not be as easy to fool at cards as the others had been.
“I don’t know,” she answered, showing little interest in the game.
“How about poker? Ever play?” He smiled, guessing she wouldn’t know the game.
“All right. I’ll give it a try.”
He shuffled the cards. “Five card?”
“Fine. What do we play for?”
He glanced around and noticed the matches in the tin near the cold fireplace. Standing, he retrieved them and gripped two hands full. “I divide the matches, you pick which pile you want.”
She touched his left hand and he released his grip, letting the matches tumble onto her side of the table. They began to play, with him doing more teaching than gambling.
An hour later, he’d let her win all the matches and Emily was dozing along with Mrs. Watson.
Em leaned across the table and whispered, “We’d better call it a night.”
Lewt touched Mrs. Watson on the shoulder. She jumped, came awake enough to mumble good night, and headed up to her room.
Em woke Miss Emily more easily, and Lewt insisted on carrying her up to her room. Emily protested as he lifted her. He was as careful with her as if she’d been glass, but from the way she stiffened in his arms he knew she didn’t think she needed to be carried to bed.
Em showed him Emily’s room. Lewt quickly set her down and backed out of the room as Em made her comfortable. With one glance he decided Emily’s room didn’t seem to fit her. He’d expected quilts with detailed hand stitching and lacy things on every surface, but