Madeline Baker

Chapter 1

 

T. J. Reese sat in the middle of a shallow river, his gaze drifting over the low green hills that surrounded the sun-lit valley. He was on the shy side of thirty and what did he have to show for it? Little more than the clothes drying on a nearby rock, a pair of well-worn boots, an equally well-worn Texas saddle, and a gunbelt that held a well-cared for Colt revolver. His horse grazed on the bunch grass that grew along the shore.

 

He was a man who traveled light, a familiar figure among the tribes of the Lakota and the Cheyenne, tolerated by the whites, feared and respected by anyone who had seen him fast-draw a gun.

 

His gaze moved to the scars he had acquired in his years of roaming the West – the puckered scar on his shoulder, souvenir of a Comanche arrow. The long, crooked scar across his chest, legacy of a knife fight with an Apache. There was a jagged scar across his back, the result of another knife fight, this one with a drunk Crow scout. He had other, smaller ones scattered here and there, but they were minor, hardly worth remembering.

 

A rustle and a flash of something pink in the tangle of blackberry bushes a few yards away caught his attention. Ever alert, he levered himself to his feet. He was moving toward his gun, which was just out of reach on the shore, when he came face-to-face with a woman mounted on a pretty bay mare.  She had the sun-browned skin of a woman who had lived on the Plains most of her life. She wore a man's blue plaid shirt over a pair of whipcord britches, and a pair of low-heeled boots. A wide-brimmed straw hat shaded her face. She looked to be in her late forties.

 

"Who the hell are you?" she exclaimed, apparently not the least bit flustered by coming face-to-face with a naked stranger.

 

"Reese," he drawled. "Who might you be?"

 

"I'm the owner of the Cross Trail ranch, which includes the river you're standing in."

 

He smiled a crooked smile. "Didn't mean to trespass, ma'am. Just wanted to wash away fifty miles of trail dust."

 

"My place is just over that hill yonder. If you've a mind to, you're welcome to come by for something to eat." Her gaze moved over him one last time, her lips twitching. "We dress for dinner."

 

"Yes, ma'am."

 

With a nod, she wheeled the mare around in a rearing turn and trotted away.

 

Reese glanced toward the blackberry bushes, but whoever or whatever had been lurking there was long gone.

 

#

The woman, Maude Haskins, was a good cook. Sitting at her table, surrounded by her husband, Frank, and her four sons, Reese understood why she hadn't been bothered by his earlier nudity. He wondered briefly who the empty chair was for.

 

"What brings you out this way?" Frank Haskins asked, slathering butter over a slice of thick brown bread.

 

Reese shrugged. "I'm lookin' for someone," he said, enigmatically. "And someone is looking for me."

 

Haskins grunted. He was a big, raw-boned man with coffee-colored hair and sharp brown eyes.

 

"We don't have any empty beds, but you're welcome to stay the night in our barn," Maude said. "It's going on dark pretty soon."

 

"Obliged, ma'am, but I'd best be on my way."

 

"Suit yourself. Boys, you got chores waiting. Get to it. No dessert until the chores are done."

 

Her sons lit out of the kitchen as if their hair was afire. Reese figured the youngest was about six. The other three were older, with the youngest looking about seventeen and the other two closer to twenty.

 

"You wanted by the law?" Haskins asked when the last kid dashed out the door.

 

"Not around here." Reese drained the last of the coffee from his cup, suddenly reluctant to leave the cozy kitchen. It had been a long time since he'd put away a decent meal, or slept under a roof.

 

He was still debating whether to take the woman up on her offer to spend the night when the back door opened and a young woman stepped into the kitchen. And what a woman. Her hair was the dark-red of autumn leaves, her eyes not quite blue, not quite green.

She came to an abrupt stop when she saw him, her cheeks flaming scarlet as their eyes met.

 

Reese frowned, puzzled by her reaction.

 

"Laurie, you're late for dinner," Maude said.

 

"I'm sorry, Ma. I was...." The girl's gaze slid away from his.

 

"Quit acting like you've never seen a man before," Maude said irritably. "Mr. Reese, this is our daughter, Laurel."

 

"Pleased to meet you," he said, unable to draw his gaze from her face. She was as lovely and fresh as a spring day. Hard to believe she was related to the rest of the family.

 

The girl sat down, her attention fixed on the plate her mother set before her.

 

Haskins pushed away from the table. With a nod in Reese's direction, he said, "I'll go grain your horse," and strolled out of the kitchen.

 

"I know you're in a hurry, " Maude said, "but I've got apple pie for dessert."

 

"You talked me into it," Reese said.

 

"Laurie, get the man a cup of coffee."

 

"Yes, Mama." Laurie wished she could disappear through the floor. She had been looking for blackberries this afternoon when she spied the man bathing in the river. Unable to take her eyes from the stranger, she had listened to the exchange between him and her mother. She was used to men. She was surrounded by them – a half-dozen hired hands, her five brothers, her father. But she had never seen a man as handsome as the stranger sitting at their table. And for all the men who were a part of her life, she had never seen a grown man in the buff. It was a sight she would never forget. She didn't know what had prompted her mother to invite the stranger to dinner. He could be a bank robber, a horse thief, a cattle rustler, a con man. Or maybe just a man down on his luck.

 

Reese glanced out the kitchen window. The sun had set. Catching Maude's eye, he said, "If you haven't changed your mind, I'd like to take you up on your offer to stay the night."

 

"A right smart decision," Haskins said, clomping back into the kitchen. "Storm comin'."

 

"Laurie, go upstairs and fetch a pillow and some blankets for Mr. Reese."

 

"Yes, Ma." Keeping her gaze averted, Laurie hurried out of the kitchen and ran up the stairs. Who was he? How long would he stay? And why should she care? Irritated by her thoughts, she rummaged in the linen closet. So what if he was rugged and handsome? He had looked at her as if he knew her every thought. The mere idea warmed her cheeks. Single men were scarce in these parts. And so were women. She'd had four proposals in the last year – two from men older than her father, one the same age as her oldest brother, and one from the town minister!

 

Making her way downstairs, she wondered again how long the stranger would stay.

 

Mr. Reese was talking to her father when she returned to the kitchen.

 

"Here's Laurie now," her father said. "She can show you where to bed down. I put your horse in the barn. Fine-looking animal. I don't reckon you'd want to sell her."

 

"Not a chance," Reese said.

 

"Breakfast is at seven," Maude called after him as he turned to follow the girl. He lifted a hand to show he'd heard.

 

She was silent as she walked briskly toward the barn. "There's a pile of hay in the back," she said, not meeting his gaze as she thrust the bedding into his arms.

 

"Obliged."

 

"I guess you'll be leaving in the morning."

 

His gaze moved over her. "Any reason why I should stay?"

 

"I don't know what you mean."

 

"Don't you?"

 

She looked up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time. Lordy, he was a handsome man. And his eyes...they were deeper than a well, blacker than midnight. Dark brown hair fell straight as a string past his broad shoulders.

 

Reese swore under his breath. Damn. She was more tempting than whiskey on a cold winter night. "You'd better go along, girl, before you get in trouble."

 

She stared at him, frowning, her brows rising when she caught his meaning. Whirling around, she ran out of the barn as if Satan himself were nipping at her heels.

 

Reese swore again. Too bad he was leaving in the morning. He would have liked a try at taming that pretty little filly.