Dawn Comes Early (19 page)

Pulse skittering, she looked away. It sickened her to think he'd found her staring at the fire unable to move. What must he think of her? And what did it matter what he thought?

She cleared her throat. “I'll . . . I'll be back shortly,” she said.

She didn't expect him to follow her outside, but he did. She walked away as quickly as she could without running, but no amount of distance could erase the worrisome hold he had over her.

The air still scented with her sweet fragrance, Luke watched her cross the street. Once she left his shop she walked toward the general merchandise store with quick, confident strides. He was taken with the way she moved, the way her hips swayed gracefully from side to side, the way she swung her arms. He liked pretty much everything about her looks.

He'd never seen anyone look so scared of fire. It was a good thing she hadn't been around in '87, the year an earthquake shook the area. The fire that followed the temblor pretty much destroyed everything in its path, including the Last Chance Ranch and most of the town.

However, it wasn't Kate's fear of fire that worried him. It was the way she stiffened whenever he came near. At times he swore he saw mistrust in her eyes. What had he done to make her so wary of him? Was it because he had seen her under-riggin's? Was that it?

Or was he simply imagining it? He wasn't good at picking up on other people's feelings. Aunt Bessie complained that a body would have to fall down dead before Luke knew anything was wrong. So why this sudden awareness? Why did he weigh Kate Tenney's every nuance as if each sigh or quick smile held some special meaning?

Whatever the reason, it bothered him. It bothered him a lot. He had no personal interest in her. Couldn't. She was an educated woman and he was a simple smithy with little book learning. So why waste so much time thinking about someone altogether in another class? It made no sense.

Chapter 16

B
essie grabbed her sister by her knitted shawl and yanked her back inside the general store.

“What's the matter?”

“Shh.” Bessie hastened to the window and ducked behind a display of Log Cabin syrup, as if the slender stack could hide her generous proportions.

“Look over there. What do you see?”

“Oh dear, it's not Cactus Joe again is it?”

“No, no, thank heavens,” Bessie assured her.

Lula-Belle craned her neck to look out the wavy paned window. Shorter than her sister, she rose on tiptoe. “I see our nephew.”

Bessie folded her arms across her ample bosom and nodded in satisfaction. “And what is he doing?”

“He's standing outside his shop doing nothing.”

Bessie threw up her arms. Could her sister bury her head any deeper in the sand? How could she not understand the meaning of this momentous occasion? It's what the family hoped would happen.

“He's watching that woman,” Bessie said, trying not to let her irritation with her sister show.

“What woman?”

Just then, the door of the shop opened to a chorus of jingling bells and Kate Tenney stepped inside and walked right by them. Since Bessie and her sister were now hunkered behind two large sacks of flour and a barrel of pickles, she obviously didn't see them.

“
That
woman,” Aunt Bessie whispered, barely able to contain her delight. “She's the one that Cactus Joe grabbed, remember?”

She should have known. Luke
was
interested. All that talk about the woman not being his type and not speaking his language—hogwash, all of it.

Lula-Belle whispered back, “Why do you suppose he was watching her?”

“Why do you
think
?” Bessie said. Mercy. Did she have to spell out everything? “He's sweet on her.”

It was about time the poor boy found a wife. The good Lord said it wasn't right for a man to be alone and, at age thirty, Luke had been alone long enough. A firm believer in order, she couldn't set to work looking for a wife for Michael until after his older brother, Luke, was married or, at the very least, betrothed.

“But he said—”

“I know very well what he said, but actions speak louder than words.” Bessie straightened and moseyed on over to the counter where Miss Tenney stood waiting for Mr. Green to fill her order.

She was pretty all right, even if a mite too thin. Some good home cooking would take care of that. Her blond hair was gathered into a tight bun beneath her wide-brimmed hat. Delicate brows arched over long-lashed blue eyes. Her plain blue skirt and lace-trimmed waistcoat emphasized a small waist, narrow hips, and a pleasing bosom. Of course Luke was interested. A man would have to be blind not to be.

Mr. Green returned with several bars of Pears soap and added them to the growing pile on the counter. “Anything else?” he asked, addressing the woman.

“I'd also like a box of bonbons,” she said. “Those are my favorite.”

“They're everyone's favorite,” Mr. Green said, reaching for a box of the foil-covered chocolates. He was a compact man whose spectacles magnified his eyes to twice their normal size. He reminded Bessie of a lizard, and his unfortunate habit of sticking his tongue in and out of his mouth did nothing to dispel that notion.

His pointy nose twitched as he began punching numbers into the National Brass cash register, a new addition to his shop and one that met with Bessie's disapproval. What a crying shame that people were too lazy to add things up in their heads like the good Lord intended.

“Do you want me to add these to Miss Walker's account, Miss Tenney?” he asked.

“No, I'll pay for them myself,” Miss Tenney said, digging into her drawstring purse.

Aunt Bessie exchanged a glance with her sister. Miss Walker's name never failed to strike a chord of curiosity in Bessie even when her nephew wasn't involved. The ranch owner's antics were legendary, which made her the main topic of conversation at any and all town gatherings.

Lula-Belle whispered, “Do you suppose she's one of Miss Walker's relatives?”

Bessie rolled her eyes. Her sister was hopeless. “Miss Walker doesn't have any relatives.” At least none that she was willing to acknowledge. Supposedly she had a brother, but according to rumors the two were on bad terms and hadn't spoken in years.

Imagine the nerve of the woman advertising for an heiress. Heiresses were born, not made. Everyone knew that. Of course, it was nothing more than you'd expect from a
divorced
woman who walked, talked, and—mercy—even dressed like a man.

Bessie didn't mean to be forward or nosy—heavens, not that. But with her nephew's future on the line, this was no time to restrain herself.

“Excuse me, I'm not sure you remember me, but we met briefly a short while ago.”

Miss Tenney nodded. “Oh yes. The day of the holdup.” Her gaze darted from Bessie to Lula-Belle. “I remember both of you.” The woman smiled, revealing straight white teeth. “How lovely to meet you again. This time under less trying circumstances.”

The woman had a cultured voice and spoke with a Boston accent. Obviously she was a lady, a
real
lady. No wonder Luke was put off at first. In Cactus Patch, ladies were few and far between.

No matter. Where men were concerned, appearances trumped character faults, and this particular woman was pretty enough to overcome any number of negative qualities she might have, even faults involving uppity language. Of that Bessie was certain or Luke wouldn't have been caught staring.

“I can't tell you how relieved we are that Cactus Joe brought you no harm.” Bessie inched closer. How fortunate that she chose today of all days to wear her best navy blue going-to-town skirt and shirtwaist. “Thank you for your kind note. That was very thoughtful of you, Miss Tenney.”

“Please, call me Kate.”

“Kate it is.” Bessie smiled. She liked that Kate was friendly and not stuck-up like other easterners who drifted through town from time to time and didn't seem to have a nice thing to say about Cactus Patch or even Arizona. “I believe you know my nephew Luke.”

“Yes, Mr. Adams gave me a ride to the ranch my first day here.”

Bessie gave a motherly nod of approval. “It was the least he could do after your unfortunate encounter with that dreadful outlaw. I can't tell you how lovely it is to see you again.”

“Yes, it is,” Lula-Belle said. “Especially since Luke—”

Bessie poked her sister with her elbow.

“What my sister was about to say was that our nephew has spoken highly of you.”

The beginning of a smile tipped the corner of Kate's pretty pink mouth. “I'm grateful to him for his kindness to me.”

Bessie grinned. Gratitude was good. At least it was a place to start. “That's our Luke. Always willing to lend a helping hand. So how do you like running a ranch?”

“I'm afraid I'm a long way from doing that,” Kate replied. “I have much to learn.”

Bessie felt a surge of hope. “Is there a possibility you won't be able to learn the ranching business?”

“Oh, I'll learn,” Kate said. “It's just that I had no idea how much work went into caring for cows . . . eh . . . cattle. But I do so love it there. Have you been to the ranch?”

“Not recently,” Bessie said.

“You must come. The cactus are all in bloom and we have these lovely little calves running around. We're getting ready for roundup and . . .”

While Kate babbled on Bessie tried to hide her impatience. It wasn't normal for a woman to carry on so about a bunch of cattle.

“I imagine it would be difficult for a woman to be both a rancher
and
a wife,” Bessie said when she could get a word in edgewise. She hated to be so brash, but how else could she learn what she needed to know?

Kate looked momentarily confused by the sudden change of subject. “I imagine so, but I have no intention of getting married.”

“So how long do you expect to remain
un
married?” Bessie asked.

“I don't plan on ever getting married,” Kate replied.

Bessie blinked. “Really?”

“I only have a hundred days left to prove myself to Miss Walker's satisfaction. After that, my one and only concern will be the ranch.”

A hundred days? Bessie did some mental calculations. That would take them to the end of July.

Bessie sidled up a notch closer, friend to friend. “If you ask me, it's a crying shame that a woman as pretty as yourself should . . . deprive some poor man of a wife.”

“Running a ranch is a full-time job,” Kate said. “I'm afraid a man would find me wanting as a wife.”

“Running a ranch didn't stop old man Thomson over at the Lazy T from getting married,” Lula-Belle said.

“I couldn't get married even if I wanted to. Miss Walker forbids it,” Kate explained. “That's one of her requirements.”

Bessie had never heard anything so ridiculous in her life. “Staying single isn't so bad, I suppose, as long as it's
your
choice and no one else's.”