She whirled on him, anger fueling her movements. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve seen so little of it.”
He sank his hands into the front pockets of his faded wool pants and stared at her for a long time. “So I gathered.”
Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and dropped her gaze to the floor. The way he looked at her, through her, made her feel naked. Exposed. She wanted to wrap herself in a safe cocoon far away from his probing eyes, before he realized how deep her fear went, how unsure she was that she could save her family this time.
“Look,” he continued, his broad shoulders relaxing slightly. “I didn’t plan on this either. When I sat down to that game in Laramie, I didn’t want to do anything more than pass the evening playing a round of poker. I didn’t expect to walk away a landowner. Settling down isn’t something I cotton to. If your husband hadn’t—” He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. For the first time, Rachel considered the possibility he, too, had been worn out by the day’s events.
She hadn’t anticipated this side of things. Hadn’t considered he too might have mixed feelings about the sudden change his life had taken.
“Then what do we do?”
He rubbed at the several days’ growth of beard along the edge of his jaw. “We can tell people, your family included, you’ve hired me on.”
“What?”
“With your husband gone, you’ll need someone to run the ranch—”
“I run the ranch, Mr. Beckett—”
“Caleb.”
“Caleb,” she amended through clenched teeth, too tired to argue. “I run this ranch. I have since my father passed. Do you plan on replacing me?”
“Do you want me to?”
Mr. Beckett—Caleb’s question surprised her. What surprised her even more was her response.
Maybe.
She was tired. Bone dead tired. The past decade had worn her down and wrung her out until there was nothing left. In the past few years, every day had become a struggle to make it to the next. Yes, she loved the ranch. Loved the idea of making a go of it and the sense of accomplishment she got from an honest day’s work. But trying to do that and care for Ethan and Brody while looking after the house, the garden, the animals...
She was one person and she couldn’t do it all.
The idea of not having to carry the burden alone seemed inconceivable. And far more appealing than she would ever admit aloud.
Rachel massaged her forehead with her fingertips.
No. She could not think like that. She couldn’t allow herself to hope someone would swoop in and her problems would magically dissolve. Caleb Beckett’s arrival didn’t herald any of these events. If anything, it brought an end to the one thing she had left. The only thing keeping her family safe and intact.
Caleb stepped closer. His nearness surrounded her. She was overcome with a sudden longing to fall against his broad chest and drop the burden at his feet. But she couldn’t. This was not a trusted friend. And he was definitely not family. He was nothing more than a handsome stranger who had ridden into town and could ride out at any moment.
She needed to remember that.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do about the deed,” he told her, his voice low and enticing. Lord, how she ached to give in. To let go. Now that he’d put the idea in her head it did not want to leave, like a weed she couldn’t kill. “And until I do, there’s no sense upsetting your family. You and the boys can stay at the house. I’ll—”
“I can’t let you live here on your own land like some kind of hired hand.”
“If we’re gonna perpetrate the myth I am a hired hand, I can’t rightly be bunking up at the house, now can I? Besides, if it’s my land it should be my say on how I live on it. Or who I let live on it.”
Rachel straightened, her pride gaining a foothold. “I won’t live here on charity.”
“I’m not asking you to. If you’re working, I’ll pay you a wage.”
She stumbled back a step. Had she heard him right? He was going to...pay her? “A wage?”
“Can’t have you working for free. Wouldn’t be right. Besides, last time I checked, you got debts to pay, and unless I’m readin’ things wrong, Kirkpatrick is lookin’ to collect. Way I figure it, you have two choices. You can let your pride march you right off this property without two cents to squeeze together, or you can keep things as they are until we figure it all out and pay off Kirkpatrick in the process.”
We. There was that word again.
She shook her head. “Shamus doesn’t want the debt paid in cash—he wants the land and he wants it now. He’s threatening to take the matter before the circuit judge if we don’t pay up.”