Page 4 of A Dangerous Heart (Wind River Mail-Order Brides #4)

“Things were getting difficult back in Missouri—taking care of the boys on my own. I had nobody to help with the farm. Seems like I was always scrimping for food.”

She was careful to tell the truth.

From under her lashes, she chanced a peek at him. He was watching her. His scrutiny was sharp, observant, and deliberate. A seasoned lawman assessing a suspect’s sincerity?

Why had she thought that? She quickly cut her gaze away.

Her dress sleeve had pulled up on her left arm, exposing an inch of a white scar. She carefully slid it down to her wrist. She had one more card to play. And nothing to lose.

She turned and waited for him to face her. Looked at him from beneath her lashes. “I was lonely,” she said.

The truth hit like a blow to her stomach.

For a moment, something sparked in the air between them. A shared recognition?

Was Isaac McGraw lonely too?

But then his eyes shuttered. “We’re on McGraw land now. The homestead isn’t far, and the whole family will be waiting.”

Her face burned. All her charms fell flat on this rancher. She stole another glance at his profile. He was a complete mystery to her. But she would figure him out. She had to.

* * *

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the valley and the misty mountains farther away. From this distance, Isaac saw David disappear into the barn and had to quash a second bout of irritation toward the boy.

Isaac’s instincts had sent him to the train station after Drew had talked Isaac into going to town for supplies.

His instincts had been right. David had ducked away and slipped into the crowd the moment Clare and those boys had stepped off the train. Isaac couldn’t help being angry at the mess his nephew had created. David was usually a good kid. What had gotten into him?

The woman beside him had gone silent a few miles ago.

When he’d informed her they were close to home, her eyes had devoured the landscape.

He caught her short, sudden intake of breath followed by a faint “oh” as the wagon and its weary crew rolled up and over the last hill and the homestead came fully into view.

Her shoulders straightened, fingers tightening around the edge of the bench seat.

The youngest boy had fallen asleep, his head resting against a sack of flour.

The oldest watched the scenery with careful interest.

Isaac hadn’t let himself look at her full on since the train platform but couldn’t erase the image from his memory.

She was striking. Beautiful. The kind of quiet beauty that settled under a man’s skin without him realizing it.

His eyes swept over her now. Her brown work dress was plain, but it suited her.

What caught him, though, was the shawl she’d draped around her shoulders.

Soft brown with a wide stripe of cream and blue that wrapped around her like a protective arm.

Its wispy fringe swayed with the motion of the wagon, brushing lightly against her creamy cheeks.

The touch of it seemed to soften her face even more, drawing his eyes when he knew better than to look.

Their gazes caught for a moment. She had the kind of eyes that flashed warmth, and a wide, expressive mouth that could distract a man less cynical than him. Now those eyes shone with pleasure while her lips parted in awe.

“It’s lovely,” she said, barely above a whisper.

Her admiration sparked something inside him. How many times had he ridden up this road? With Clare beside him, he was seeing it with new eyes.

The barn, the bunkhouse, the fenced paddock where several horses grazed, weather-worn but well maintained by the labor and grit of three generations of McGraws. His chest tightened with both pride and the suffocating need to escape.

A thread of smoke drifted from the chimney of the main homestead, evidence that a fire still burned in the hearth. Drew and Kaitlyn sat on chairs pulled from the kitchen to the front stoop, mugs in hand. Isaac swallowed, almost tasting the strong brew.

A dog barked. A blur of tan, black, and white chased circles around Tillie. Her blonde braids swinging, she tried to pivot but tumbled to the grass. Isaac saw a flash of her as a toddler, when he’d catch her from falling and swing her into his arms.

“Stop.” Tillie shrieked and giggled as his brother Nick’s shepherding dog furiously licked her face.

Isaac blinked and looked away. He’d had nowhere else to go when everything had fallen apart. He needed the seclusion of his cabin to hole up, lick his wounds, and try to find a way forward. And to keep his eye on Quade.

He assessed the pretty woman sitting next to him. She’d come here as a mail-order bride. Why? He pushed aside his natural curiosity. Clare Ferguson was not his responsibility. But he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she might bring trouble.

Isaac pulled the reins taut, and the wagon rolled to a stop. Drew and Kaitlyn were already off the porch, walking hand in hand. Jo appeared from the barn and sprinted to the wagon. David dismounted and tied his horses to the corral fence before returning to the wagon.

“Uncle Isaac, you brought her home with you!” the girl exclaimed. Her eyes, wide with excitement, flitted from him to Clare and to the back of the wagon. Her brow wrinkled.

Isaac fisted the reins, his gaze tangled with Clare’s.

She lifted her eyebrows. He dipped his chin.

Vowing to ignore her, he slid from the bench and halted at the side of the wagon.

He craved distance. Recalling the gentle brush of her shoulder, his bicep responded with a twitch, as if haunted by a phantom touch.

Clare’s boys were already out of the wagon.

“Is that your dog?” Clare’s youngest asked. She’d called him Ben.

Isaac gritted his teeth, hardening himself against the young boy’s curious tone. He restricted his thoughts to the tasks at hand. Tend to the horse, unload the supplies, and fix the box staple that had come loose on the wagon. His meddlesome family could figure out the rest.

He was already running his fingers over the loose staple on the sideboard when he heard Jo say, “She didn’t say she had boys.”

Drew ambled to Clare’s side of the wagon and offered a hand down, but he sent Isaac a side-eyed look over the wagon. Kaitlyn stepped forward, laying a gentle hand on Clare’s arm.

“Welcome to the McGraw homestead, Miss…” Kaitlyn faltered, her forehead wrinkling as she took in the boys scrambling around the supplies while Jo unlatched the wagon back.

“Ferguson.” Clare provided her last name.

A beat passed where Isaac expected Clare to say more. She didn’t. Was this the same woman who had yammered all the way from Calvin?

There was a flurry of introductions and a mention that Ed and Rebekah were currently over at the Boutwells’ place nearby. Nick was with the cattle.

Clare Ferguson was all smiles, the youngest boy glued to her side.

Eli and David stood a few feet from each other near the back of the wagon, eyeing each other awkwardly.

Isaac moved to the back of the wagon, lowered the tailgate.

He grabbed a large grain sack, hoisted it over his shoulder, and headed to the barn.

Drew grabbed one too, following Isaac and leaving Kaitlyn with Clare and the children.

“What happened?” Drew asked when they were inside the barn.

“Quade happened.” Isaac tossed the feed sack onto the ground. It landed with a thump that wasn’t satisfying enough.

“What?”

“Quade and his cronies were on the platform at the depot. David disappeared.” Isaac had seen David sneaking toward the wagon just before Clare had disembarked.

“When I met her”—he jerked his thumb back toward the wagon and the women’s chattering voices—“she was spouting off about the letters. Quade was quick to offer to help her sue us for breach of contract. Said it would be a real shame if the family lost our homestead in a lawsuit.”

“That skunk!” Drew’s eyes narrowed, but his anger was banked.

After hearing about Clare Ferguson’s hardships, Isaac couldn’t really say whether she would do it or not. She obviously needed the money.

“Folks started gathering around. I thought it best to bring her here instead of making a bigger scene.”

“This scheme of Jo and David’s was foolish.” Drew ran his hand over his face and blew out a breath. “Kaitlyn can buy her train tickets to go home. I’d take her back to town tomorrow, but I can’t—not till after the roundup.”

Kaitlyn’s inheritance had helped the family out of a difficult spot earlier in the year.

Isaac’s stomach growled, reminding him he’d given the boys his lunch. He thought of Clare, who’d only taken a few bites and given the rest to her boys. She had a mother’s heart.

Drew must’ve heard. “Come on up to the house and eat.”

As they walked, Isaac studiously ignored Clare walking with Kaitlyn toward the house. Drew glanced between them. “So, what do you think of Clare?”

Pretty. The word almost tumbled from his mouth.

He pressed his lips together. Sure, she was pretty.

Probably one of the prettiest women ever to arrive in Calvin, Wyoming.

Her dark hair was pinned up, but a few tendrils had escaped, curling at her temple and brushing against her cheek.

Her hazel eyes danced, and her smile was striking enough to land like a gut punch.

Isaac still couldn’t figure out why she would need to answer an ad.

He didn’t think she’d throw her lot in with a man like Quade.

But she had traveled hundreds of miles to marry a stranger.

He took the two steps up the porch stairs, cracked the door open, and stepped inside.

Drew followed, crowding in behind him. Inside, Clare stood with Kaitlyn in the hall, smiling one of her charming smiles and inspecting his grandmother’s cross-stitch that hung in a wooden frame over the row of hooks near the door.

A Bible verse they’d all had to memorize.

In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.

He’d once believed that—that God was directing his steps. But God had abandoned Isaac. Or Isaac had gotten off the path somewhere.

Clare turned to Kaitlyn, eyes shining. “Your family must believe in the providence of God.”

“Oh yes. It was God who sent me to Drew and the children.”

Clare’s voice softened. “I can’t help but think that maybe those letters that got sent are kind of like the story of Abraham sending his servant to fetch a wife for his son Isaac.”

The statement was so preposterous that Isaac sucked in air when he should have swallowed.

Drew stepped near and gave him a couple of slaps on the back, then removed his hat and dropped it over one of the hooks.

Kaitlyn smiled at Isaac’s discomfort, but in a flash, she turned green and excused herself to run upstairs.

Clare’s cheeks turned pink. Her eyes followed Kaitlyn up the stairs, then turned to Drew.

“She okay?” Isaac asked.

Drew ran a hand through his dark hair, releasing a sigh, but then his expression changed. The corner of his mouth lifted, and a gleam sparked in his eyes. “She’s in the family way.”

A beat of envy struck Isaac, followed by a piercing sadness. He hadn’t known. He would be an uncle again, and he hadn’t noticed. He’d been here. Home. But not truly engaged with his family.

Drew let out a sharp breath. “That’s why I can’t go back to town. Kaitlyn won’t be able to go on roundup. We’ll be short a cook.”

Clare hovered nearby.

“I can cook for you,” she volunteered. “The boys would love to ride out on a roundup.”

“No.” But Isaac’s quick refusal went unheeded.

Drew’s eyes had a considering look in them.

Clare barely glanced in Isaac’s direction.

“I’ll accept payment,” she said to Drew. “If I’m not to be married, I’ll need to figure out what to do next. And I’ll need money.”

Frustration boiled in Isaac’s gut. Drew was the oldest brother. The one who felt responsible for the entire family.

How had Clare known just what to say so he would feel responsible for her too?

Isaac tried to catch his brother’s eyes, shook his head. But Drew only sent him a regretful glance.

“My children created this mess. The least we can do is try and set things right.”