She knelt down and started to fasten his pants. “No more spraying.”
The boys laughed.
Abby couldn’t help but smile. She had not the faintest idea how to raise boys, but she imagined it would be an adventure.
She hustled the children back into the warm cabin and took off her coat. As she hung her coat on the peg by the door, Quinn and Tommy shrugged theirs off and dropped them on the floor.
“Oh, no, little misters. We’ll be hanging our coats from now on.”
“But Pa doesn’t care,” Quinn said.
“I do.”
He crossed his arms. “But you ain’t our ma.”
“That is correct, but you will hang your coats, nonetheless. And the correct word is aren’t, not ain’t.” She moved a kitchen chair closer to the pegs. “Climb up now and hang those coats. We’ll wash up for breakfast and then get to work on this place.”
“Breakfast!” Tommy said. He scrambled up on the chair. “I’m hungry.”
Quinn kept his lips flat and his expression defiant, but she saw the twinkle of excitement in his eyes.
After the boys washed their hands, she served them hard tack, ham and warmed milk. Neither complained about the simple fare and each asked for seconds.
Once the breakfast dishes were scraped and cleaned, they set about the task of sorting through the supplies from town.
When the downstairs was somewhat organized she climbed the ladder to her loft. The boys followed. Together they smoothed out the blankets.
“What’s that?” Quinn said pointing to her bundle of possessions still bound in the tablecloth.
“It’s just a few things I brought from home.”
She unwrapped the tablecloth. As if they’d found a buried treasure, the boys studied the meager contents. Quinn picked up a brush and Tommy studied her black Sunday shoes, which had long lost their sheen.
“What’s that?” Quinn said pointing to a package wrapped in pink tissue paper and bound with a delicate white ribbon.
That special extra purchase she’d bought when she’d arrived in Sacramento. It was a cotton nightgown trimmed with lace and bought special for her wedding night. Less than two weeks ago she’d watched the shopkeeper gently wrap the gown in the tissue paper. She’d imagined what it would feel like to have her husband unfasten the row of tiny pearls that trailed down the middle.
Then, her husband had no face. He’d simply been words on a page.
Now, he was a flesh-and-blood man, with rawboned features and penetrating blue eyes. This time she pictured Matthias’s rough hands on the buttons and her naked flesh. A burning sensation flared in her body.
“It’s nothing of import,” she said, her voice rusty. She cleared her throat and set the bundle aside.
The gown, like her dreams, had no place in Montana.
Chapter Seven
By late afternoon the sun scorched through the clouds, revealing a vibrant blue sky. Under the warming sun, the snow thinned to reveal patches of green dotting the countryside.
Watching his herd of cattle, Matthias leaned forward in his saddle. His low-crowned Stetson blocked the bright sun from his eyes.
Last night’s snowfall had been a few inches at most. If the warm temperatures held, it would be completely gone by tomorrow and his cattle would soon be grazing. This snowfall had been an annoyance, but not a disaster like the crushing blizzards of a year ago when he’d lost half his herd.
Those had been some of the darkest days of his life. As his cattle had died, he’d been trapped in the cabin with the boys and a wife who by then didn’t have the strength to get out of bed. His life had been falling apart. He’d never felt more helpless, more out of control.
A sane man would have abandoned his land which had bled so much from him. Yet he had stayed. He’d never walked away from a fight and he hadn’t walked away from this one.
And look what it had cost him.
Anger choked his throat.
He should still cut his losses and move back to Missouri. Frank had said there’d be a place for him if he returned. He hated the idea of returning east and never would have considered the move if his choices only involved him. But he had the boys to consider.
Back east, they could go to a real school, have friends of their own and not worry each winter if this one would be the one to finally crush their tiny family.
But the idea of returning to the city where a man could barely breathe stuck in Matthias’s craw. And with the railroad scouts looking for cattle and horses, he was so close to making a fine profit.
He looked up at the cloudless sky. “I reckon you think I’m a fool, Elise. You were right when you said we should leave.” He’d taken to talking to Elise when he was out on the range. If anyone were to see him, they’d think him a damn fool, but talking to her had helped keep him sane this last year.
The whisper of the wind in the trees was his only answer.
“I reckon you know by now I hired a woman to look after the boys. She seems good with them and she’s got a kind heart. I’m certain she’ll pick up stakes by the end of the summer. I remember how much you hated it out here.”
He rubbed his forehead. He didn’t dare voice his attraction to Miss Smyth. Speaking it aloud would make it all the more tangible. The more sinful. “She’s only a hired hand,” he said with a little too much emphasis. “I made a pledge to you never to love again.”
It had been a promise he’d made as Elise lay dying. In those dark hours, he’d have bargained with the devil to save her. “And I’m going to keep my word.”
Suddenly tired, he reined his horse around and started back to the cabin. He arrived an hour before sunset, but by the time he’d finished his chores in the barn, the sun had dipped behind the horizon. Orange-red light slashed across the land and the distant mountains. This was his favorite time of day. The fading sun set the land ablaze. The beauty of it always took his breath away. There were no views like this in Missouri.
As soon as his boot hit the front step, he heard the boys yelling, “Pa!” He smiled. As tired as he was, he liked hearing the excitement in their voices.
He reached for the front door just as it jerked open. The boys piled out onto the porch. Each was jumping up and down excitedly at the threshold. He squatted, not remembering the last time he’d seen them this lively.
Tommy swept his arms wide, proudly showcasing the cabin. “Look what we did today.”
Quinn frowned, placing his small hand over Matthias’s eyes. “No! No! First you close your eyes.”
“We played games today!” Tommy said.
Matthias chuckled. “What kind of games?”
“We made laundry piles! And we put away boxes!”
Matthias nodded, marveling at the fact that Miss Smyth had turned chores into an adventure. “Miss Smyth’s games.”
“Yes,” Quinn said. “Now keep your e
yes closed and I will lead you inside.”
Matthias complied, rising slowly as each boy took a hold of his hands.
“Don’t peek, Pa,” Tommy said.
“I’m not,” he said. He moved into the main room, half expecting to trip over one of the sacks or boxes he’d hauled in last night. “When are you going to let me see?”
“Now!” Quinn said.
Matthias opened his eyes, his gaze scanning the room. Not only had the bed been made but all the supplies had been put away. Laundry piles—one dark and one light—sat neatly in the corner. The wood floor had been swept clean and the dishes in the sink had been scrubbed and stacked on the shelves.
The smell of freshly baked beans and corn cakes greeted him. He’d not realized how hungry he was until this moment, and his mouth started to water.
A rustle of skirts and the clang of pots had his gaze swinging to the kitchen. There he saw Miss Smyth, still wearing Elise’s blue-checkered apron, only now it was covered with smudges of cornmeal. Since this morning she’d coiled her braid into a tight knot at the base of her neck. To his surprise he preferred her braid loose, swinging seductively above her bottom.
She turned then and their gazes locked. As if reading his thoughts, color rose in her neck and cheeks as she looked at him. “Welcome home.”
For the first time in his life, he felt awkward with a woman. Not a wife or a lover, yet more than just a servant. He cleared his throat. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”
“There’s been a lot to do.” She lowered her gaze back to her pot on the stove. “Supper is ready if you’re hungry.”
“I could eat a bear.”
Quinn frowned. “We don’t have bear, Pa, only beans.”
Matthias laughed. Lord, but it felt good to laugh. “Beans will be just fine.”
“Well, have a seat at the table,” she said. “I’ll make you a plate.”
He noticed then that the kitchen table had been cleaned. Napkins were folded and tucked under the forks and a plate of biscuits set in the center. The table looked inviting. He felt like a traitor for thinking it, but for the first time in a while he was glad to be home.