Webb, however, was oblivious to her unease. He clearly saw their first public date as a triumph. As he turned to her on the porch for their usual chaste good night kiss, his arms tightened around her. His mouth lingered on hers, seeking and demanding. Kristin tasted the usual after-dinner cigar he’d enjoyed. Pulling back a little, she gave him a smile.
“Thank you for a lovely evening, Webb,” she said. “I know that I argued against our being seen in public, but it was probably a step in the right direction.”
“Then maybe it’s time for another step.” His big hand rested firmly at the small of her back, holding her fast. “I’ve been hoping you’d invite me in tonight. It’s early yet. We’ve got plenty of time.”
Kristin had known the moment was coming. Still, it caught her by surprise. She stiffened against him. If she were to give him what he wanted, their relationship would take a whole different turn. So, perhaps, would her life.
“I’m not a child, Webb,” she said.
“I know. And I’m not sixteen anymore. We both know what we want. I’m in love with you, Kristin. And I want you. If that’s what you need to hear, there it is.”
She gazed up at him. Either the man had just offered her his heart or he was lying, something men were prone to do. But why should he lie, when he was powerful enough to get his way with a word? Only one question remained: What role did he have in mind for her, wife or mistress?
Either way, she wasn’t prepared to give him what he wanted.
So how could she make a graceful exit? She could protest that she had a headache, or that she was tired and had a busy day of appointments scheduled for tomorrow, or even that it was the wrong time of the month. But that would only delay the real issue. And Webb deserved better. He deserved the truth. Even if it made him angry.
His arms tightened around her, pulling her so close that she could feel his hardness through the layers of clothing that separated them. “Well, how long do you plan to keep me standing here?” he demanded.
Steeling herself, she looked up at him and shook her head. “I’m not ready, Webb,” she said. “You’re a fine man, and given time, I might come to love you. But that time isn’t now.”
His arms dropped, releasing her as he took a step backward. His eyes were cold. “So how much time do you need?”
“I don’t know. I’m not in a position to promise anything.”
“I see.” His face wore the expression of a man unaccustomed to refusal. “I’m willing to give you some time, Kristin. But I’m not known to be long on patience. I won’t wait forever.”
“I understand. And you must know how much I’ve enjoyed our friendship.”
“Screw friendship! Good night, Kristin.” He turned away and stalked back to his automobile.
CHAPTER TEN
THE NEXT MORNING, LARS REPORTED THAT EZRA WAS PLANNING TO leave town with his parents and wouldn’t be coming back to work. Logan was tempted to ask him how Gerda was taking the news, but remembering the big man’s protectiveness toward his daughters, he held his tongue. The family was none of his business.
Ezra’s injury left the crew shorthanded. Until a replacement could be found, Logan stepped in and took his place. Hammering, sawing, and bracing the frame as it went up were hard work. Logan didn’t mind that part. He was learning new skills that he could put to use. But it took him from other needed tasks like the planning and management of his ranch.
On the third day after Ezra’s accident, a stranger rode up to the site of the barn—a man with stringy black hair under a droopy, grease-stained hat. Mounted on a dappled horse that appeared as thin and poor-looking as its rider, he came up quietly and sat watching the work for a few minutes before he spoke.
“Looks to me like you blokes could use some help.” Logan recognized his brogue as lower-class Irish. “Angus O’Rourke’s the name. I own the spread up there in the foothills. Raisin’ some cows and such.”
“Of course.” Logan laid down his hammer and turned to introduce himself to his neighbor. “Webb’s mentioned you. I was wondering when we’d have a chance to meet.”
“Webb, the almighty Calder.” He spat a stream of tobacco off the far side of his horse. “I heard you was some shirttail kin of his. But I won’t hold that against you. Since we’re neighbors, I’m hoping we can be friends.” He swung off his horse and stepped forward to shake Logan’s hand. He was a small man, the crown of his hat not much higher than Logan’s shoulder. But his sinewy hand was surprisingly strong. The eyes that squinted up at the rising barn were a startling shade of green.
“That’s a mighty big barn you’re buildin’,” he said. “It appears that you could use more hands on the job. Are you hirin’?”
“Maybe. If we can find somebody who’s not afraid of hard work.” Logan glanced toward Lars, who’d paused to listen.
“How about me?” O’Rourke asked. “I got me a fine ranch, with plenty of cows, but I’m short on cash. My little girl, my Maggie, she’s got a birthday comin’ up. I’d like to buy her a doll like the one she saw in the store. And my boy, Cully, he’s growin’ like a weed and needs new shoes. I done plenty of building on my ranch, so I know what to do. What d’you say?”
Logan glanced at Lars again. He was in charge of the crew; it was his decision to make. The big man hesitated, then nodded.
“We’ll try you out,” Logan said. “If Mr. Anderson here thinks you’ve proven your worth, you can stay on. If not, we’ll pay you for your time and send you home.”
O’Rourke grinned, showing yellowed teeth. “When do I start?”
“You can start right now,” Lars said. “Take one of those hammers. If you can pound a straight nail, you’re hired for the day. After that, we’ll see.”
Angus O’Rourke proved to be a hard worker and smart enough to follow instructions. If any fault could be found with him, it was that words flowed out of his mouth like water from a broken pipe, mostly about his ranch, his growing herd of cattle, his pretty wife and daughter, and the strapping son he was grooming to take over the dynasty one day. Logan had heard enough from Webb to know that most of what O’Rourke said was blarney. The ranch was short on water and grass, his cattle were in poor condition, and his family struggled to keep food on their table and clothes on their backs.
O’Rourke had more to say as he and Logan took a break on the porch, drinking cold water and looking out over the pasture, where the white-faced yearling steers grazed on fresh spring grass.
“Now, take those steers of yours,” he said. “I can see from here, they’re all branded with the Triple C. I can tell you right now why that isn’t a good idea.”
“I don’t see the problem. I bought them from Webb. Since I plan to sell them in the fall along with Webb’s herd, I didn’t think it worth the trouble of rebranding them. There are only fifty head—I don’t have fenced pasture for more. Webb said he’d pay me for the number I turned back to him.”
“And you’re trusting him to keep his word? Hell, you don’t know Webb Calder like I do. He’ll cheat you as sure as you’re born—claim you shorted him, or that he didn’t get as much for the steers as he expected. Or that yours were underweight. You can bet on it.”