Rose(41)

“I can,” Zac assured him. “I can stick like glue.”

“Maybe we’ll go for a ride this afternoon and see.”

“Promise?” Zac said. He had the skeptical look of a little boy who had seen too many promises come to nothing.

“I promise, as long as you get all your chores done and don’t give Rose any reason to complain about you.”

“I like Rose,” Zac said. “It’s Tyler and Jeff that cause all the trouble.”

George looked embarrassed to have led Zac into making a statement he didn’t want Rose to hear.

“They’ll come around,” George assured him.

“Jeff’s mean. I don’t like him,” Zac said.

“You don’t mean that,” George said.

“Yes, I do. He’s mean to Monty and he’s mean to me. He’s mean to you, too.”

“Jeff isn’t mean. He’s just unhappy. It’s hard to get used to having only one arm.”

“It’s hard to get used to being the littlest and getting told what to do all the time,” Zac argued. “But I don’t say mean things to nobody because of it.”

“Yes, you do, you little scamp,” George countered, scooping his brother up and tossing him up on his shoulders. “You complain about every chore I give you.”

“But I don’t mean it.”

“Neither does Jeff.”





The days when Tyler and Jeff were away were wonderful for Rose. Their absence didn’t remove all dissension—Rose decided no two members of this family could be together without arguing—but the spirit of anger left with them.

She understood Jeff’s resentment, but she had no idea what caused Tyler to be so antagonistic. He hated helping her. He particularly hated having to pick berries or gather nuts with Zac. Rose decided he must be going through a difficult time, no longer a boy but not quite a man. It couldn’t be easy to feel grown but not be treated that way. He was almost as tall as George, but he was so skinny he looked more like a prisoner of war than Jeff. His clothes hung off him, and he shuffled along like a boy grown so fast he had left his coordination a year behind.

The others had begun to accept her. Zac was young enough to still enjoy a woman’s softness. In fact, he was constantly underfoot. She suspected he was the one brother who was truly born to live indoors.

Monty and Hen had warmed considerably. Well, at least Monty had. Nearly every day he brought her some game he had shot. With so many mouths to feed, she was glad for the fresh meat, but she wasn’t glad of the work of cleaning, dressing, and preparing it.

Hen never said much, but he had the best natural manners of anybody except George. He remembered to thank her, say good morning, and hold the door. Little things, to be sure, things he usually did without speaking, his face showing no expression, but touches of thoughtfulness which she appreciated.

But the greatest change was in George.

At first she had feared his interest might be the same as Luke Kearney’s. Despite the way he looked at her, despite the quality of his character, he said nothing to make her think he liked her. Her work maybe, but not her personally. How could she know he was interested in anything more than her body? It had been a physical touching, an accidental brushing, which turned the heat up to a blaze.

Had she left Austin and Luke Kearney only to discover that George was just like him?

If so, she would have to leave. It wouldn’t be as easy to refuse George as Luke.

It mortified her to think she was so weak that she would hesitate for as much as a moment. She wouldn’t mean to. She would struggle against it, but she had had a taste of the havoc George’s touch wrought in her body. She didn’t know if her willpower could withstand a prolonged attack.

But as the days passed, Rose’s fears began to recede. George was avoiding her once again, but his control was no longer absolute. Under his stiff manner she could see signs that his feelings were no longer cold.

He hardly took his eyes off her when he was at the ranch. He talked to each brother during each meal, but most often his eyes would be on her at the opposite end of the table. Whether he knew it or not, he included her more and more often in their conversations.

But it was the way he looked at her that made the difference, as if he couldn’t get enough, as if he wanted to learn everything about her there was to know, as if he had never seen such an entrancing woman before and he wanted to look his fill.

Rose tried not to attach too much importance to it. After all, she was the only woman in sight and she wasn’t exactly ugly. Yet it did make her feel better to know he couldn’t ignore her, even if he meant to.