little fire! It’s dry season, Ursula, and the wind’s blowing! The whole mountain could go up in flames.”
“No need to panic.” Ursula appeared unruffled by Wade’s outburst. “The Forest Service and volunteers already have everything under control. I’m fixing to feed ’em supper soon as they finish mopping up.”
Rachel climbed down from the cab. “If you’re expecting a crowd, may I help?”
She’d taken a chance, asking. She didn’t remember if she could cook, but memories weren’t required to wash dishes.
Ursula’s smile subtracted years from her weathered face, and she extended a gnarled hand. “You must be Rachel. Thanks for offering.”
The old woman’s demeanor conveyed not only welcome but acceptance, and as Rachel shook her hand, she experienced again an impression of homecoming.
Wade pivoted and headed back to his truck. “I’d better see if they need help.”
“You got more important work—” Ursula jerked her thumb toward the house “—upstairs.”
Wade turned. “Jordan? Is he hurt?”
Rachel registered a shock of empathy at the fear and concern on Wade’s face.
“No,” Ursula said, “but he’s in his room, crying his eyes out, afraid you’ll tan his hide good this time.”
“You know I’ve never laid a hand on…” He glanced toward the smoking pines. “Jordan started the fire?”
Feeling like an intruder, Rachel retreated into the shade of the porch, but she couldn’t avoid the argument between Wade and his housekeeper.
“Don’t be too hard on the boy,” Ursula said. “He was just trying to please you.”
“By burning down my best timber? I’ll—”
“Wade Garrett!” Ursula drilled him with a scowl. “For the past twenty years, you’ve been like a son to me, but if you don’t start giving that boy what he needs, I swear, I’ll disown you.”
Wade yanked off his hat, slapped it against his thigh and pointed at Rachel. “I’ve brought him what he needs. A mother.”
Rachel flinched as the full impact of mail-order bride status hit her. Wade had treated her with no more respect than some fourth-class package.
Ursula stepped toward Wade and shook her finger at him. “Sometimes I think you couldn’t pour water out of a boot with instructions on the heel—”
“Tell Jordan I’ll talk to him at supper.” Wade crushed his hat back on and strode to the truck. With a ferocious grinding of gears, he peeled off in a flurry of dust.
Ursula climbed the porch steps as if her arthritis pained her, and approached Rachel. “Thank God, you’re here, girl. Don’t mind Wade’s rough ways. He’s all heart underneath his bluster. But both Wade and Jordan, they need you more than you could ever imagine.”
Rachel watched the haze of dust that marked Wade’s progress toward the fire. She didn’t doubt his love for Jordan. In the surprising outburst from the man who had impressed her with his even-tempered nature, she had recognized his frustration over Jordan’s mischief.
Most telling of all, Wade obviously believed all his boy needed to cure his troubles was a mother.
Rachel wasn’t so sure. After all, she wasn’t the boy’s mother, but a total stranger. Not the woman his father loved, only someone who had responded to a personal ad. And any skills or experience she might once have used to benefit a troubled boy lay buried deep in her damaged psyche.
With a sinking sensation that she’d stumbled into more than she could handle, Rachel followed Ursula into the house.
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