‘‘Thank you,’’ Wyatt said, nursing his arm.
‘‘That shoulder still bothering you?’’ Kora asked. ‘‘I could take a look at it.’’
‘‘No!’’ Wyatt almost shouted. ‘‘It’s doing fine.’’
Wyatt smiled at Kora with a mouth that looked to Winter as if it had a few too many teeth. The gambler made a grand effort of helping her with the platters and pulling out her chair while Winter watched. It didn’t take much thought to know what Kora was doing. Winter knew she hoped the gambler would marry Jamie. But Winter wouldn’t bet a cathouse token on that possibility.
Reluctantly he took his place at the table. He knew he should probably do something like offer to let Wyatt call him by his first name. After all, the man was probably only five years his junior and he might be in the family soon. Assuming he was still ‘‘in the family,’’ Win thought.
Winter ate without tasting the food as Jamie rattled on about her trip to town, and Wyatt divided his time between openly flirting with Jamie and subtly flirting with Kora. Winter frowned, thinking he seemed to be the only one at the table aware that a range war could break out at any point.
Suddenly he jerked and shoved himself away from the table. ‘‘I have to go,’’ he mumbled. ‘‘It’s time I was in the saddle.’’
Looking at Wyatt, Winter offered his hand. ‘‘I assume you’ll be going back with the doc now that Cheyenne is out of danger.’’
Wyatt stood and took the offered hand. ‘‘I will. But I may be back if I’m welcome.’’ His gambler’s polish gave little away.
Glancing at Kora, Winter said, ‘‘You’re welcome here.’’
Kora winked at her sister.
‘‘I’ll be back a little after dark.’’ Winter reached for his hat.
Kora walked with him to the door. ‘‘I’ll keep supper warm no matter how late and don’t worry about Cheyenne. I’ll look in on him often.’’
Thanking her with a nod, he walked out of the house. She was doing it again, he thought, playing the perfect wife. He fought the urge to reach for her. She had a kind of quiet strength that fascinated him.
The next few days passed in a maze of work. He had a fresh horse brought to him by midafternoon so he could stay in the saddle sixteen hours or more. Kora was up each morning by the time he dressed and had a huge breakfast ready for him, but he’d ride in so late at night that the evening meal was usually waiting for him on the kitchen table. He’d eat alone and fall asleep most nights without even undressing.
Winter wasn’t aware of her coming into the study every night, but he couldn’t help but notice the signs that she’d been there. Clean clothes were always on the chair. An extra blanket appeared the night it turned colder than usual. The fire never died as it would have if not tended.
At breakfast she was formal. She told him of Doc Gage’s visits every few days and of how Wyatt always accompanied him. Cheyenne was getting restless, but strangely didn’t seemed to mind her brother, Dan, dragging his chair up the stairs and sitting in the corner of his room each day. The two men had one thing in common. Both liked to be alone, and somehow that bonded them.
During the third week of Kora’s stay, the weather turned warm. No more reports of riders or shootings happened and Winter began to relax. He even started to believe that the ranchers south might have killed their infected herds, or found another way besides crossing the Panhandle to get them to market.
Winter decided to ride in early and have supper with Kora. He’d sent a man over to Adams’s farm and learned that Adams had spent half the money he’d gotten from Winter to stall the bank’s foreclosure and the other half on supplies, including a large share of whiskey.
Logan had checked around enough to know that Andrew Adams would not make a fit husband for any woman.
The lawyer in town told Logan that since Kora hadn’t signed the same name to the proxy it was worthless. The old man had been dead set against Winter picking Kora, but somehow she’d won him over.
At sunset when Winter walked through the back door, Kora was in the kitchen. She glanced up at him with those bluer than blue eyes and smiled. For a moment it was hard for him to imagine himself ever being without her. She looked so much like she belonged not only in the house, but in his life.
‘‘I was hoping you’d make it in early tonight.’’ She wiped a strand of hair away with a floured hand, leaving a white streak across her cheek. ‘‘I made a special dinner. Cheyenne thinks he can make it down to the table. He’ll be happy you’re here.’’
‘‘And you?’’
‘‘I’m glad, also. I hoped to have a chance to talk to you tonight.’’ She paused and pulled a pie from the oven. ‘‘ Supper will be ready by the time you wash up.’’
Winter took a step back out the doorway. ‘‘I’ll only be a minute.’’
‘‘Win?’’
It was the first time she’d said his name, and he liked the way she used his nickname, as Logan and Cheyenne did. ‘‘Yes?’’ He waited.
‘‘The washstand’s ready in our room if you want to use it. I could bring you up clean clothes.’’
He started to say ‘‘don’t bother.’’ He could wash on the porch. She didn’t have to wait on him. But instead he
nodded, silently agreeing with her, and walked across the kitchen and up the stairs to the attic.
He took his time dressing, enjoying the room. When she’d suggested moving a bed up to the attic, he’d thought it was a fool idea, but now it seemed like home. She’d made some changes since he’d seen the room. A low shelf of books lined one wall between the north windows, and she’d made nightstands out of boxes. He noticed the books were all ones he’d read as a child. They started with his McGuffy Readers and went all the way to Mark Twain and Jules Verne.
Win smiled as he looked around. He could send to Dallas for a real bedroom set and buy leather-bound books finer than any in the study. The room could have all matching wood like they advertised in the Dallas paper with bookshelves as high as the rafters between each of the windows.
Surveying the room, he thought she sure didn’t look like a woman ready to pull up stakes. She’d even brought up the little writing desk the captain’s wife had in the sunroom. Kora had placed it in a corner so she could look out the windows in two directions.
He moved over to her dressing area and peeked behind the folding panel. Everything was in order. Her clothes, her comb, a perfume bottle. He moved closer and lifted the corner of the hankerchief she used to cover her dresser. Miss Allie had given him the fancy hankerchief one Christmas years ago, and he’d forgotten where he put it. Now it seemed to have found a home.
Kora’s soft footsteps only gave him a moment to move before she was on the landing.
‘‘I brought you clean clothes, but they’ve been mended several times. Would you mind it if I picked out a few new shirts for you the next time I’m in town?’’
‘‘I wouldn’t mind.’’ He took the shirt. ‘‘But I’ll be in town tomorrow for a meeting. Make a list and I’ll pick up anything you need.’’
Their words were natural, things any husband might say to any wife, but Winter was very much aware she didn’t think of him as truly her husband. He was just another way, like Adams, to survive. Every morning when he rode out, he wondered if she’d be waiting for him when he returned. Or would she load up her sister and brother and the few things they’d come with and leave? Could she swear never to return to him as easily as she had Andrew Adams?
The possibility had turned over in his mind again and again. He’d told himself that if she left he’d close the house and never open it or think of her again. But he knew he’d probably go after her. Something about this woman fit him as perfectly as kid leather. Just as he would have offered far more to get her to marry him than she’d thought, he’d do more to keep her than she might imagine.