“There’s provisions in the store for your family,” Reid said. “You see your ma eats her fill.”
“She will, Mr. Barclay,” the boy said. “Ma is cooking up a storm on that new range.”
“That’s good.” He tousled the boy’s sandy hair. “Get on inside with you and collect that parcel.”
“Yes, sir.” The boy barged inside without a backward glance.
“That was a wonderful thing you did,” she said.
He slid her an impatient nod toward the sleigh. She sensed he didn’t want accolades for doing a good turn.
As he stowed their provisions in the sleigh, she was tempted to get in on her own. But he surprised her again.
Strong hands bracketed her waist, the thumbs pointing up to graze the underside of her breasts. Fire licked through her and she gasped as if truly burned by his touch.
He picked her up as if she weighed nothing, taking his own sweet time. Or at least time seemed to stand still for her before she felt the footboard beneath her.
Ellie was rendered speechless with the strength in Reid’s hands. Hands that could bring pleasure to a woman. Hands that weren’t immune to fighting. Hands that had known work.
The sleigh dipped as Reid climbed up and sat beside her. He surprised her by spreading a heavy buffalo robe over his lap and hers.
Those knowing midnight-blue eyes held a mixture of censure and amusement. But Ellie wasn’t fooled.
Pa was from the old school. Why if he knew the liberties Irwin had taken with her, he’d likely track down the man she’d planned to marry and give him jesse. If he saw the way she was comporting herself with Reid Barclay…
His long, strong thigh stretched alongside hers like a fire-warmed log, and his hotter-than-an-ember hip pressed to hers. A delicious heat spread through Ellie.
She had absolutely no trouble imagining how well they’d fit together as man and woman. But what shocked her was how much she wanted to feel Reid’s body pressed to hers with nothing between them.
Those were dangerous thoughts that could destroy her plans to start a new life in California. She’d never considered her wayward wants would be the obstacle to overcome.
She caught herself from leaning into the heat of him. Adhering to propriety would be a challenge around this man, especially since her thoughts seemed to stray into the dangerous and forbidden and he was a deliciously warm temptation she longed to cuddle up to.
Ellie listened to the steady ring of sleigh bells and focused on the reasons she’d agreed to take over Mrs. Leach’s position. Nothing like reality to chill these inappropriate thoughts of her boss.
“How long will it take to reach the ranch?” she asked as they left the town of Maverick behind them.
“Better part of an hour.”
Sixty minutes of sharing a buffalo blanket with Reid would test her endurance. There was nobody but her and Reid and miles upon miles of unbroken snow. Nobody would know if they held to propriety. Nobody but her conscience.
She’d failed to listen to it before. She vowed not to make that mistake again.
Though sitting close to him warmed her, she shifted to keep a respectable distance between them.
“You all right?” he asked.
She was chilled and nervous and so very lonely. “Just fine, Mr. Barclay,” she said, and willed her teeth not to clatter.
“You can call me Reid,” he said in that low, sultry tone that made her insides tingle.
A twinge of unease passed through her. He likely thought she’d offer him the same freedom to address her informally. But dropping those strictures could lead to loosening of other principles.
She’d made that mistake once. She wouldn’t do it again.
Still, she had to trot forth a suitable reply that wouldn’t offend. “Perhaps once we become better acquainted.” Which wouldn’t happen because she’d be leaving after the holidays.
“Fair enough.”
They lapsed into an easy silence after that. Ellie fairly bubbled with excitement over seeing her pa again. But she carried a good case of nerves as well. She only hoped that the recipe book she’d purchased would guide her should Mrs. Leach’s receipts fail her.
She fixed her gaze on the snow-packed plains stretching out toward the bruised ridge of the mountains in the distance. It seemed she’d been staring at the same vista for ages.
“How do you keep from getting lost out here?” she asked.
The ghost of a smile teased his ruggedly handsome face. “As long as it’s not snowing, there are landmarks to guide me.”
She glanced at the sky that threatened more snow and prayed it would hold off. “What if it starts snowing again?”
He caught her gaze with his solemn one. “Then we hope my instincts are right.”
Not a terribly reassuring answer, especially when the first fat flakes began falling. When the wind gusted and blew the snow right at them, she squirmed with the beginning twinges of panic.
She huddled into her hooded cloak and stuck her gloved hands up her sleeves. Still the chill seeped into her bones, for the brick at her feet had grown cold and the miniscule space between her and Reid seemed larger.
Out of necessity, she scooted close until the solid length of his body bumped hers. She saw nothing ahead but a wall of white. Even the sleigh bells sounded dull.
Just when she feared they were lost and would freeze to death, the snow stopped. The sun broke through the clouds as the sleigh popped over a rise and the ranch spread into view. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t the patchwork of corrals and buildings of various sizes and descriptions.
The two-story stone house was far grander than she’d expected to find in Wyoming, let alone a ranch. The design was distinctly Italianate, reminiscent of the mansions in Denver.
Bathed in the afternoon sun, it looked like a square-cut topaz set amid a stark white cloud. A true jewel of the high prairie, fitting for a prosperous rancher.
Ellie straightened from her huddled pose as Reid angled the sleigh around to the back porch. This must be the servants’ entrance, though the open terrace was larger than the front porch hanging on her uncle’s home and looked twice as inviting. Wouldn’t that man have a conniption fit if he knew what she was doing here?
She wouldn’t be here long enough for her uncle to ever know. Which was just as well.
Her uncle would like nothing better than to see Ellie’s pa hang, for he believed his sister deserved better than marrying a Missouri farmer. When her pa turned outlaw, her uncle’s dislike turned to abhorrence. If she lived to be an old woman, she’d never understand such hatred.
Ellie welcomed Reid’s help down and hoped her numb feet and legs would carry her inside. She took the satchel he handed her with fingers that were stiff with the cold.
Reid grabbed her trunk and carried it up the steps. “Hubert will see that you’re settled in, but if you need anything, just ask.”
“I will.”
She followed, leery of accepting anyone’s help so soon after arriving. Until she spoke with her pa, she didn’t know who she could trust.
The half-glass back door swung open, and a small wiry man of advanced years glanced from her to Reid. “Who, may I ask, is this woman?”
“E.J. Cade. Mrs. Leach’s friend.” Reid inclined his head the old man’s way. “This is Hubert, butler and all-around nosy parker.”
The butler’s