Then there was still nothing she could do.
Rachel slumped against the stall. She hated this sense of impotence. How was she supposed to care for her family if at any moment they could be cast out? They would have nothing but the clothes on their back and a huge debt owing to Kirkpatrick hanging over their heads.
She rested her head on the wooden post and took a deep breath as worry and anger seesawed back and forth.
Caleb drove the buckboard through the open doors and into the barn, walking into the ray of sunlight coming through one of the side windows. Dust motes danced in its beams and he felt the warmth on his skin as he passed through. Riding to and from town, he had been struck once again by the beauty of the land, the richness of its promised bounty as spring erupted all around him, filling him with a sense of renewal. It called to him, urging him to put down roots, dredging up old memories best left in the past. He had tried settling down once before, and it had ended in betrayal and a bullet in his back. What made him think it would be different this time?
He shook the dark memory off. Truth be told, he’d figured he’d end up on the wrong end of a bullet long before the need to settle down pulled at him again. So far fate had spared him, though he wasn’t sure if that made him a lucky man or not. But riding through the woods, listening to the music of the forest, breathing in the fresh mountain air, well, he felt pretty lucky indeed.
He just wasn’t fool enough to think it would last. He’d learned his lesson on that account and knew better than to allow his mind to veer too far down that path. No, he would figure out a way to set things right and keep Rachel safe from Kirkpatrick’s machinations. Then he would get gone, preferably before the sheriff dug up more about the events in Laramie than Caleb needed him knowing.
Sensing he wasn’t alone, Caleb jumped down from the wagon and scanned the length of stalls. A young boy dressed in trousers and a floppy old hat stood with his back to him, scratching Jasper’s nose. He was too small for Brody, too big for Ethan.
“You there,” he called out. “Can you tell me where I might find Mrs. Sutter?”
He’d looked up at the house when he’d unloaded the lumber he’d purchased, but no one had been around.
He barely managed to keep his jaw from hitting the hay strewn floor when the boy turned around.
Rachel tilted back her hat and gave him a direct look. “I see you decided to return.”
Caleb grasped at his scattered wits. Now that she had fully turned toward him, he could see how the trousers skimmed over the enticing curve of her hips. Tendrils of dark hair curled gently against the line of her jaw, bobbing with each subtle movement. The shirt she wore did little to keep his mind on the straight and narrow. It fit against breasts pushed upward by her corset, their soft roundness straining against the material. Despite her light frame and the clothes she wore, there was nothing boyish about her.
“Return?”
“As in you were away and now you have come back.” There was an edge to her voice.
“Right. I...uh...went into town.” He struggled to get his brain working again, to move away from wondering what lay beneath that shirt, but his mind wouldn’t ponder why she appeared angry with him. It was busy speculating whether Rachel Sutter was the type to wear one of those frilly lace-type corsets, or if she was all utilitarian and plain. Caleb suspected the former. It was always the ones you didn’t suspect that surprised you.
“To town? For what?”
He wasn’t sure what business it was of hers where he went or why, but she sure seemed irate over him being gone. There was no denying the severe tone in her voice or the hands planted firmly on those hips he was trying his best not to think about.
“Thought I’d purchase some lumber to expand the house. Place is too damn small to fit all of you. Figured I’d expand it, maybe add an extra bedroom.”
He thought she’d be pleased at the prospect of having more space, but her full lips pursed into a tight line, telling him he had read the situation wrong. Blast it, if this woman wasn’t hard to figure out. One minute she was all but begging him to keep quiet about the deed, the next she was refusing his help as though she’d rather strip naked and run through town than take one cent from him. He was trying to do her a favor, expanding the house.
“I understand this is now your property, Mr. Beckett, and you can do with it as you please, but out of courtesy, do you think it remotely possible you could inform me of such changes beforehand?”
He raised one eyebrow. “Inform you?”
“Yes, inform me.”
“Like report to you, get your permission?” He rolled a finger in the air. The idea rankled him. He wasn’t used to having anyone vet his decisions, nor did he see any reason to start now. If he had to discuss with her every thought or idea that popped into his head, he’d never get anything done. Not to mention the less time he spent in her company the better. She had the ability to draw a man in and addle his thinking. He didn’t need to have his thinking addled. He needed all his wits about him to come up with a solution to this confounded problem he’d found himself in so he could get the heck out as soon as possible.