“There’s nothing wrong, is there, Stubs?” The cowboy’s grizzled face broke into a grin as he looked at Dru.
“Nothin’ that their ma being’ home won’t take care of.”
“Where are they now?” she asked.
“Back at the house. Jess and Brina are whippin’ us up some grub for supper. Imagine Pet’s tryin’ to help out. Better git up there so they can throw in a bit more.” Stubs removed his hat and drew his arm across his forehead, glancing toward Rachel as he did so.
“Got your teacher, did ya?” Gavin looked over his shoulder.
“Miss Harris, this is Stubs Martin. He’s the foreman for the Lucky Strike Ranch.”
“How do you do, Mr. Martin.” Rachel stood, her hand on the back of the wagon seat for balance.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Well, doggies. If you ain’t a pretty little thing. You just call me Stubs and we’ll git on fine.” He winked at her.
“Yes, sir. Ain’t she a pretty little thing, Gavin?” Rachel felt the warm blush spreading up from her neck. She fought the urge to turn and look at Gavin, as if it mattered to her if Gavin Blake found her pretty—which, of course, it most certainly did not.
“I see you’ve got the cattle rounded up,” Gavin said, ignoring his foreman’s question. Without pausing, he added, “You’d better sit down, Miss Harris.” He slapped the reins against the horses’ rumps, and the wagon jerked forward, nearly toppling her. He really was the most ill-mannered man. Begrudgingly, she gave him silent credit for the tenderness and concern he showed toward Dru. Beyond that, she found Gavin Blake an insufferable bore and only hoped she would see as little of him as possible once they reached their destination. Stubs fell in beside the wagon, quickly filling Gavin in on what had transpired while the boss and his wife were away. The final count showed they’d lost only a few cattle during the summer, a couple to wolves, the rest more than likely to some of the Indians in the area. The herd had fattened up nicely on the abundant feed available. They would bring a fine price when butchered and delivered to the miners in the area.
“When do we mean to start the drive?” Stubs asked.
“It’s getting’ a bit late in the year.”
“Dru’s asked to stay in the basin for a few more weeks, but I think you’d better drive the cattle out in the next day or two. The buyers will be expecting us.”
“You think you oughta-” Stubs began. Two shrill voices interrupted his question.
“Ma! Ma!” Once again, Rachel got to her knees and leaned over for a better view. Even as Dru reached out to grab hold of Gavin’s arm, he was drawing the wagon to a halt.
“Ma!” Dark brown hair streamed out behind them as they ran. The older
girl was tall and slender. The younger was plump and rosy. Each of them was smiling broadly and waving. Gavin hopped down from the wagon seat, then lifted his wife to the ground. She turned just in time to receive the two girls into her arms.
“Ma, you’re back! You were gone so long.”
“I know, Brina. It seemed like forever to me, too.” Sabrina had her mother’s hazel eyes as well as the same long, narrow face. Her complexion was fair except for the spattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her dress barely covered her knees. She would soon be grown clear out of it.
“Ma ..” Petula tugged on her mother’s sleeve.
“Look.” She opened her mouth. The younger girl’s eyes were a dark chocolate brown and were capped by thick chestnut brows. Her skin was dark, her mouth wide and full. Rachel could see little resemblance to either Gavin or Dru in the child.
“My goodness, Pet. Where did your tooth go?” her mother asked, acting as if she’d never known a child could lose a tooth.
“It came loose when I was ridin’.” Her eyes widened.
“I swallowed it,” she announced gravely.
“Well then, you probably won’t be hungry for supper, will you?” Gavin asked as he swooped the younger child into his arms. Petula promptly threw her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“Will too. Mr. Chamberlain’s fixin’ pie for dessert, and I helped.” With his other arm, Gavin lifted Sabrina against his side.
“What about you? Stubs tells me you’re doing the cooking.” She mimicked her sister’s actions by hugging his neck and kissing his cheek. As she pulled back, she nodded solemnly.
“I made the stew.” Rachel couldn’t help noticing the way he grinned at the children. It wasn’t just his mouth. The smile went right to his eyes, making their gray depths sparkle with silent laughter. It was a much nicer look than the one he normally turned on her. He must be a wonderful father. Dru touched Rachel’s hand on the side of the wagon.
“Get down, Miss Harris, and meet the children.”
“Yes of course,” she mumbled, remembering abruptly why she was there. Without waiting for help, she scrambled over the tailgate of the wagon and dropped the remaining few feet to the ground. She turned nervously to face her pupils, feeling as if she was stepping before a firing squad.
“Brina… Pet…” Dru waited as Gavin set the girls on their feet.
“Come meet Miss Harris.” Holding hands, they came forward to stand next to their mother. Two sets of eyes stared up at her, curious and skeptical at the same time. Her throat felt dry.
“Hello, Sabrina. Hello, Petula.” They didn’t say a word.
“I’m glad to meet both of you at last. Your mother’s told me so much about you.” Still no response. Rachel swallowed hard. Her stomach was churning nervously. If the children took a dislike to her as quickly as their father had, she wouldn’t have a prayer of staying on. Petula turned and reached for her mother’s skirt, tugging until Dru leaned down.
“She’s real pretty, isn’t she, Ma?” she whispered.
“Yes, Pet, she is,” Dru answered softly, her gaze lifting to meet Rachel’s.
“Very pretty.” Rachel was still trying to think of something to say when the peace of the valley was shattered by the baying of dogs. She turned to see three brown-and-gray blurs barreling toward them. The first two slid to a halt at Gavin’s feet. The third didn’t stop until he’d jumped up to thrust his muddy paws against Rachel’s shoulders. Thrown off balance, her arms flailed the air in large circles. As if knowing she was trying her best to stay upright, the mangy brute gave her a little push. With a squeal, she fell onto her backside, hitting the hard ground with a thump. Before she could close her mouth, the dog’s long tongue smacked her across the face several times. She spluttered, raising her arm to ward off the beast, and closed her eyes, hoping all the while that it wouldn’t decide she was tasty enough for a bite in place of the lick. She heard their laughter. Particularly his laughter. It was deep and rich and—and insulting!
“Get back, Joker, you idiot. Don’t you know that’s no way to greet a lady?”
Rachel opened her eyes as Gavin dragged the overzealous wolfhound away by the scruff of its neck. Although he’d managed to muffle his guffaws, his eyes were still twinkling with undisguised merriment as he stepped forward again and offered her a hand up.
“He’s your dog, no doubt,” she grumbled as she took hold of his hand. Gavin chuckled.
“No doubt.” He pulled her to her feet in one easy motion.
“I hope you’ll forgive him. Joker’s just a pup.”
“A pup?” She turned to stare at the enormous animal with its large square head and thick, wiry coat.
“He’s nearly a horse!” She brushed at the muddy prints on her bodice, biting back a few choice words about what should be done with the dog.
“Duke. Duchess. Come.” In response to Gavin’s quiet command, the other two dogs sprang to their feet and trotted over.
“Sit down.” Gavin waved his hand at Rachel, as if the dogs could understand what he was saying.