The Lone Cowboy of River Bend

The wind gathered strength, buffeting her. Loosened hair stung her eyes and whipped her face. Despite the weather, Hannah stood, rooted to the ground, staring at Nate until he lifted an eyebrow in silent question. Her cheeks burned. With a gesture to the basket beside her, she turned away from him.

They wrestled the sheets into the large wicker container over the next several minutes. When they finished, Nate picked up the laundry, carrying it past his waiting horse and around the side of the house to set it on the porch. Hannah followed him slowly, taking some time to think over her behavior. She joined him near the steps almost a full minute later.

“I apologize for my bad manners, Mr. Rolfe. We don’t get many visitors and you startled me.”

“I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, confused.

“That I startled you, Miss Brooks.”

“It’s all right, Mr. Rolfe.”

His expression remained polite but something flickered in his dark eyes as he nodded. “Nate.”

“Very well… Nate.” Something about his name had tugged at her memory. She sifted through the information Alice shared with her about the Rolfes, thinking furiously. “Oh, you must be-”

“Don’t.”

His abrupt change of tone, now rough and bordering on rude, took Hannah by surprise. Confused, she ventured softly, “The oldest brother?”

“I am.” The man rubbed a hand over his face. “Sorry.” Dark smudges beneath his eyes painted a picture of exhaustion. “It’s been a long few days.”

“It’s all right.”

Nate acknowledged her words with a shake of his head and a brief smile. An awkward silence fell between them then. Hannah, a quiet, somewhat shy, woman often felt uncomfortable in social situations. Circumstances had led to her having few friends as she grew up and, following Jemma’s birth, her world narrowed even further. Until Alice came, Bessie and her husband, Jed, had been her only friends for a long time.

Words flitted through her mind, considered then dismissed unspoken. Her gaze flickered from him to the yard beyond, then back again repeatedly, praying to see the older woman returning with the children each time. Unfortunately, aside from the man with her, the chickens were the only creatures in sight.

After another endless moment, Hannah stopped trying to come up with something smart and engaging to tell him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s all right, Miss Brooks.” Though his smile had faded, his tone, low, rich, and warm repeated the phrase she’d offered him with quiet sincerity.

“Please call me Hannah.”

“Hannah.”

His voice held a note she couldn’t define but it sparked a response nonetheless. Fire spread over her cheeks again. Silence returned. Hannah shifted her weight from one foot to the other, uncertain of what to do next. With Jed in his current state she might as well be alone and was reluctant to invite anyone into the house.

After several seconds, he prompted, “Would you let Alice know I’m here?”

“I will, as soon as she returns.”

“Where is she?”

“She took the kids fishing.”

“Fishing?”

His obvious puzzlement was understandable. It wasn’t a common activity this time of year but the children needed a break from the oppressive atmosphere at home. Jed had worsened. This week even the hours spent away at school didn’t seem to ease his sons much. Even Jemma, once a sunny child, had been too quiet lately.

“Odd, I know, but the boys were restless. They’re probably pitching rocks into the water instead of casting out line.”

“Wasn’t she expecting me?”

“We didn’t think Sam, well, you, would be here before noon.”

“Sorry.”

“No need. I’m sorry she isn’t here.”

Nate studied her from the other side of the steps, not attempting to move closer. “Should I come back later?”

“No,” Hannah answered, sounding almost breathless. She cleared her throat before continuing in a stronger voice. “You don’t have to leave. It’s just…”

“I’m troubling you.”

“No I… It’s not you.”

“Did Jed go?”

Do something fun with the boys? Hannah stuffed her chilled hands into the pockets of her coat. “No, he did not.”

“He’s home?”

“Yes, he is.” When is he not?

“Would you tell him I’m here?”

“I’d rather not.” With effort, Hannah kept her tone even, masking exasperation. They’d had an exceptionally bad morning with Jed.

“Why?”

“I don’t think it’d be a good idea.”

“He’s… poorly?”

Hannah drew in a deep breath. Something about the way he responded told her Nate knew, or at least suspected, Jed’s affliction. Still, she believed it was best not to say much.

“He’s… having a bad day. When Alice gets back, I’m sure she’ll explain.”

Instead of pressing her further, Nate simply nodded. The only sign of his displeasure was in the slight downturn of his lips, a suggestion of a frown. She almost sagged in relief. Even with Alice, his mother, the changes in her friend’s husband were difficult to discuss. The light-hearted man Jed had been before Bessie’s death existed only in their memories now.

“Would you like to sit while we wait?” Hannah gestured to the pair of rockers on the sagging porch.

As soon as the words left her mouth, Hannah started feeling self-conscious. She looked down at the ground by her feet. Few people shared her enthusiasm to be outside when nature decided to be rowdy. Slowly, she brought her gaze up to meet his.

“Thank you.” His tone reflected a sincere appreciation for her offer. “But I need to take care of my horse.” He waved his hand in the direction of his mount. “Is there room for him?”

“Room?” He thinks the farm is still functioning. The words to explain stuck in her throat. Without talking about Jed, it’d be impossible. “Yes, there is.”

“Would you mind showing us?”

“Us?” Startled, Hannah glanced around, looking for his companion.

Nate nodded toward his horse. “Jack and I.”

“Jack?” In all the years Hannah had known Bessie, she’d heard several strange names given to horses but they usually bordered on fanciful. “You named your horse Jack?”

“Yes.” Nate headed toward the young, reddish-brown horse. “It suits him.”

“I’m sure it does,” she affirmed, more to herself than him.

The wind carried the clean scent of recent rain to her as she waited, reminding Hannah a storm threatened. Why hasn’t she brought the kids home? She turned, looking at the spot where they’d most likely emerge from the tree line along the south field. There was no sign of them. Despite having complete trust in the other woman, worry nagged at her.

“Hannah?”

His voice, soft and deep, drew her attention. “Yes?”

“You all right?”

For a second or two, she thought about sharing her concern, then dismissed the impulse. “I’m fine, but would you excuse me? I’d like to put the sheets inside first.”

“Of course.”

Hannah darted up onto the porch, where she picked up the basket before slipping into the house. She moved quietly inside, tiptoeing across the main room to put the laundry down near the table. Her mission complete, she turned, heading toward the door, then halted midway. This was still Jed’s house. By rights, she should inform him of visitors. After taking in a deep breath to steady her nerves, she changed direction and headed to his room.

In front of the closed door, she stopped, hesitated a few seconds, then knocked. There was no response but Hannah hadn’t really expected one. She turned the knob and opened the door some inches.

“Nate Rolfe is here,” she announced softly, yet loud enough to carry to the occupant.

Hannah waited several seconds, then took Jed’s silence as an answer itself. She bit her lip hard, preventing the release of a heavy sigh of disappointment. Wordlessly, she pulled the door shut, leaving the man alone in the shadow-filled room again.

Her strides were swift as she crossed the room, blinking back tears. By the time Hannah reached the front door, she’d recovered her composure. She exited the house, finding Nate waiting patiently, and hurried down the steps.

“Follow me.” With a polite smile, she paused at his side briefly, then continued on, heading to the barn.

Nate’s long stride brought him even with her in a matter of seconds. Their arms brushed. Startled, she stumbled on a tuft of grass. Her companion reached out, grabbing her arm to steady her.

Hannah pulled free almost immediately. “Thank you.”

“You all right?”

“I’m fine, just fine, thank you.”

Flustered by the unexpected contact, Hannah moved on at an even faster pace. They crossed the yard, scattering chickens as they came upon them. She was vividly aware of him every step of the way, feeling uncomfortable yet intrigued.

Like it’d been with Michael.

The memory of how swiftly she’d fallen for Jemma’s father rose like a specter in her mind. Hannah had given him her heart in a matter of days. But this isn’t the same.

Hannah reasoned away the disturbing thoughts. It had been a troubled day. Circumstances stirred up her emotions. Naturally, doubts and worries were haunting her. That’s why Michael had been on her mind. That’s all it was.

And although she’d just met Nate, Hannah could tell the two men were nothing alike. In fact, she remembered Alice saying the Rolfes had adopted their eldest son. He and Michael didn’t even share blood. It was impossible she felt the same kind of instant attraction.

True, the man was handsome. Hannah glanced sideways. Nate was striking in a much different way than Jemma’s father. His rugged good looks would have an effect on any woman. Besides, she was older and far wiser now. Nothing would happen. She knew better than to repeat history.

At the barn, Nate handed her his reins, then pulled open one of the heavy doors. A headache pulsed to life, pounding behind her eyes while Hannah watched him stare into the building. The sad shape of the interior appeared a hundred times worse to her now than it had this morning. The improvements Bessie dreamed of doing never became reality. She and Alice, with the children’s help, had done the best they could, which wasn’t much. Everything needed time, attention, and money and those were in short supply.

Hannah walked forward, leading the horse. After several steps, she paused to return the reins. The sight of Nate’s grim expression gave her pause. As she stood with him in the shadowy structure, it suddenly occurred to her she had no proof the man was indeed who he claimed to be.

Unease slid through her veins. Why had she made it clear that, essentially, she was on her own? Why hadn’t she insisted Jed come out to greet him? Hannah shifted, putting some space between them. At least if something happened, Jed could hear her scream then rouse himself to help.

No. A sick feeling gathered in her gut as certainty settled over her. He wouldn’t. Jed would ignore her as he had earlier, as he did everyone. Hannah stiffened her spine. She would be okay. Her nerves were likely getting the best of her. The man with her had to be Nate Rolfe, a good person, according to Alice.

“Something wrong?”

Nate moved closer, and even in the low light, there was no mistaking the concern in his eyes. Hannah slowly released the breath she’d held and a calming bit of logic came to mind. He had asked after Jed and Alice. A drifter wouldn’t have known about them. She needed to rein in her imagination. There were enough legitimate concerns to worry about without creating more out of thin air.

“No.”

“You’re pale.”

“I’m fine.” She gestured to his horse, wanting to get his attention off her. “You’re welcome to put Jack in any stall but the one next to Meadowlark and her baby. She is very protective of Tanager and wouldn’t enjoy close company.”

“She isn’t used to other horses?”

The note of surprise in Nate’s observation caught her on the raw. Many people thought her friends were crazy when they’d invested every dime they could borrow into buying this run-down farm and two quality broodmares. They’d worked hard to prove the naysayers wrong, adding horses over time. Meadowlark had once been used to a barn filled with other animals.

Now, the mare and her foal were remnants of a dream. Months of neglect had unraveled those years of hard work. After Bessie died, everything changed.

“She’s gotten used to being alone.” Without giving him a chance to respond, Hannah moved away, heading deeper into the building.

Chapter 3

Enough light streamed through cracks on the far wall and the open door that she didn’t bother with a lantern. She stopped by a stall that put almost the length of the barn between the gelding and the mare. After Nate nodded his approval, she showed him where to hang his tack and get clean straw for bedding. While he set to work making Jack comfortable, she fetched the horse a bucket of water, some grain, and hay.

Nate thanked her for the meager offerings. Still intensely aware of her companion, however, Hannah noted his first reaction was a critical tightening of his lips. Certain the poor animal deserved more, she felt bad but there was no help for it. They had limited feed.

Hannah worried for a moment he’d ask about having more and she’d have to explain, but Nate didn’t say a word, carrying on with his task in silence. Relieved, she stepped over to stand near the open doorway while he finished. Her gaze wandered over the interior to the yard outside as she waited. Neglect was clear in every direction. She could only imagine how it might appear to fresh eyes. The man had to see how run-down the place was and that there was a shortage of many animals besides horses.

Tears welled up, threatening to spill. It wasn’t all Jed’s fault. The farm had sat abandoned for years before he and Bessie bought it. Hannah couldn’t honestly say she’d seen any potential in it. She glanced back at Nate, finding him still brushing his horse. According to Alice, the Rolfes’ ranch covered over three hundred acres. The meager forty of Redwing Farm, a vast stretch of land to her friends, probably seemed insignificant to him.

A burst of cold air moved over Hannah. For a second, she could’ve sworn it carried the sweet scent of lilacs, even though it was the wrong season for Bessie’s favorite flower. She turned her attention outside. Ramshackle buildings dotted the area, the chicken coop, sheds, house, a second small barn, and the lean-to against this barn where hired help would’ve slept, sadly looking much the same as the first time she’d seen them. The memory of her friend’s excitement as she’d shown her around the farm then, pulling her from one falling-down structure to another, bursting with plans, filled her mind. She closed her eyes, trying to shut out reality.

“Done.”

Did the man ever say more than a word or two at a time?

Hannah opened her eyes and turned to face Nate. “Are you hungry?”

“A little.”

“Why don’t you come up to the house?” She stepped out of the barn. “I’ll fix you something.”

“I can wait.” Nate pushed the door shut.

“If you do, Alice will wonder at my manners.”

“I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”

His full sentence tempted her to smile. “It’s no trouble.”

“But-”

“Alice and the children will be here soon.” Hannah headed off toward the house without giving him the chance to respond.

Undecided, Nate remained near the barn a moment, then, with a shake of his head, he followed her. He would’ve preferred to wait for Alice outside. Although intrigued by Hannah, she made him uncomfortable. Besides, he wanted a look around. Jed had to be here somewhere and he wanted to see what exactly was causing the man’s bad day. Unwilling to be rude, he disregarded those inclinations and kept walking.

His gaze swept the area while he crossed the yard. Boards were missing from the corral. The chicken coop showed a number of clumsy repairs. A closer look at the house as Nate approached it revealed a porch on the verge of collapse. Evidence of decay was everywhere.

How many bad days has Jed had?

Nate caught up with Hannah as she opened the door. While an answer to the question dominating his thoughts would be nice, he didn’t ask her about Alice’s son again. The young woman reminded him of a nervous horse, visibly wary, although he doubted she’d care for his comparison. Patience was in order. Thankfully, he developed that virtue working with wild mustangs.

Inside the small home, Hannah stopped a step from the door and removed her coat. She hung it on a peg on the wall. With a silent gesture, she invited Nate to do the same before unwinding an old, faded shawl from her shoulders.

Hannah’s easy grace was a pleasure to behold. He couldn’t help watching subtly as she removed bulky clothing, revealing the soft swell of her chest and generous curves of her hips. His gaze lingered on her form, clad in a plain, brown work dress, several seconds before moving up to focus on hair the rich red of autumn leaves. It’d been a while since he’d taken the time to enjoy the beauty of a woman and he found himself on the verge of being rude.

Nate shifted his gaze, staring at the wall while shrugging off his duster, but couldn’t resist another glance at her after hanging it up. This time Hannah caught him, their gazes collided as she draped her shawl on top of her coat. She tilted her head to one side, puzzlement filling eyes the shade of the chocolate candy Alice made at Christmas. A blush bloomed over her cheeks, charming him. He couldn’t look away.

“Excuse me,” she whispered, turning her back to him, then walking away.

His ill manners sank in. He knew how uncomfortable being gawked at felt. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Hannah called over her shoulder, her tone polite but a little cool as she crossed the room. “Please, have a seat at the table.”

Believing further apologies would make matters worse, Nate moved to do what she’d asked without offering another. He looked around the space while heading for the decent-sized, rough-hewn table with six chairs sitting in the center. Along the wall to his right there were three doors and on the opposite one some shelves, hanging pots, a cupboard, and a small cook stove. Motion caught his eye. Hannah stood near the fireplace, in the middle of the wall directly across from the door. Within it, he noticed a pitiful pile of half-burnt sticks on top of dying coals, which explained why the air inside wasn’t much warmer than outside.

Nate eased his frame onto one of the rickety wooden chairs, still watching his companion. From a small stack of fir rounds, Hannah added one onto the pile with careful precision. The sway of her skirt drew his attention as she bent over, blowing on the coals. The fire grew, showing off crackling flames after a few minutes of coaxing.

Hannah straightened and he brought his gaze up as she turned to face him. “Would stew be all right?”

Be charming. Put her at ease. Think of something Rowdy might say. “Yes.” Feeble, Nathaniel. Try again. Use more than one word. “It would.”

“Good.” Although her tone remained polite, there was a hint of amusement in her short answer.

Not charming but, maybe, entertaining.

Never good with small talk, Nate chose to remain silent as she walked over to the cupboard. Hannah reached up, took a spoon and bowl out, then pulled a ladle off a nail on the wall. She turned and, from a pot left warming on the black metal stove, scooped him up a portion. Given the cozy size of the room, it took the woman only a couple of steps to reach his side, placing the meal before him a moment later.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes.” Eagerness seeped through his voice. Nate hadn’t bothered with a campfire in the morning and was craving the bitter brew. “Please.”

Wordlessly, Hannah returned to the stove. She took two cups off a shelf and filled them both from a coffee pot beside the stew pan. As she walked back, Nate glanced down at the contents of the bowl. He dipped his spoon in and stirred, inhaling the fragrant scent of herbs. Thick with vegetables but no sign of meat, the sight was consistent with serious financial troubles.

After setting a cup down by his bowl, Hannah sat at the other side of the table, directly across from him. “Aren’t you going to have some?”

“I’ll wait for Alice and the children.”

“Then I’ll wait too.”

“No need.” Hannah shook her head. “You can have a second helping with them.”

“But-”

“There’s plenty. Please.”

“But I-”

“I insist.”

“Okay,” Nate agreed, unwilling to offend her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Hannah sipped her coffee while he ate. For the next several minutes there was no pressure to converse. The silence between them felt almost comfortable. By the time he finished, Nate had relaxed a little.

“It was very good.”

“Thank you.” Hannah rose to her feet then picked up his bowl, taking it over to the worktop of the cupboard. His eyes followed the gentle movement of her hips as she walked away. Near the stove, she waved toward the coffee pot. “Want more?”

Nate promptly lifted his gaze. “Please.”

As she folded a cloth around the pot’s handle Nate became conscious he was staring at her. He shifted in his seat and looked over at the fire. The flames barely licked the wood. It was still a bit chilly inside.

Should I offer to build it up? The soft falls of her boots on the worn wood floor announced Hannah approaching. Nate almost spoke, then hesitated. If it’s small to conserve wood, offering may embarrass her. A second later, she stood beside him, filling his cup, the sleeve of her dress brushing against the skin of his wrist and the back of his hand.

Heat whispered through his veins. Hannah smelled sweetly of fresh air and flowers. He breathed in, leaning ever so slightly closer. Roses, she smelled like roses. The scent was a favorite of Nate’s. He nurtured several blooming plants on the south side of his cabin, grown from cuts of his mother’s garden.

Hannah moved away. Feeling the absence of her warmth, Nate wrapped his hand around the mug, welcoming the burning heat the fresh brew brought. The pretty woman intrigued him. Pursuing her was a tempting thought. Seconds later, he dismissed the idea.

It’d be pointless. Nate squeezed the mug tighter and raised it off the table, staring down at the steaming liquid. He had to keep this attraction under control. She wasn’t a woman who’d welcome a casual flirtation and attempting anything more serious would be foolish. In his experience, women didn’t care for the isolated way of life he loved.

Nate took a long drink of his coffee as Hannah reclaimed her seat. Her lips curved in a shy smile, causing his heart to beat a fraction faster. Despite knowing it wasn’t wise, he found himself offering her a brief grin in return.

Although he sensed Hannah had a lot on her mind, she didn’t break the silence. The quiet between them didn’t seem to bother her. In Nate’s opinion, it was a rare and attractive trait. Few people he knew resisted making casual conversation. Enjoying her company, he sipped his coffee over the next several minutes.

A noise from another room broke the pleasant mood. Nate put his cup down as he looked in the sound’s direction. He’d thought they were alone. Silence followed. He turned his attention back to Hannah a moment later. A shadow flickered in her lovely eyes then her gaze skittered off, away from his.

“Who’s here?” he asked gently.

Hannah shook her head, glancing at a door on the far wall.

A closer look revealed the one she was staring at was now slightly ajar. Jed perhaps?