He shook his head. “I don’t see why. It’s my house, bought and paid for with hard cash. I’d think I can pretty much do whatever I want to with it, including inviting company to stay if I want to.”
“I don’t want to damage your reputation,” Sarah said softly.
“More likely that I’ll damage yours,” he answered with a slow grin. And for the first time he wondered what had possessed him to make such an offer. The woman was about as appealing as any he’d ever met. Dressed in her pants and shirt, she drew every eye, especially those of the men who’d had a hard time keeping their gazes from her as she walked from the jailhouse to the hotel. She was slender, but rounded in all the right places, and he’d probably do well to park her somewhere other than his front bedroom.
But the offer had been made, and Brace Caulfield wasn’t a man to back down once he’d made a decision. “I picked up your pack from the livery stable. I kept the gun, just in case you planned on using it.” He watched her closely, noting the wary expression she wore. “You’ll be safe with me,” he told her, and as he watched, she nodded slowly.
“I suspect I will. I found that out last night.”
“About last night,” he began, and halted when she held up a hand to silence him.
“Let’s not talk about it,” she said, glancing at Stephen. “You were within your rights, and the way things have worked out, I’m not going to complain.”
“All right.” And wasn’t that an easy resolution to the issue. He’d thought he’d have to mend fences, but apparently Miss Sarah Murphy wasn’t a woman to hold a grudge.
All in all, this might be an interesting proposition.
Chapter Three
I t rose two stories high, the roof sloped and gabled, the windows abundant, their surfaces gleaming in the sunlight. All in all, it was a place that appealed to her, and Sarah found herself slowing her pace as she walked from the buggy toward the wide front porch. It was barren of furnishings, but the cool, shaded area looked to be ideal for a swing, perhaps a rocking chair, or even just a bench beside the door.
She could imagine whiling away the hours of eventide here, watching the sun set and the first stars appear in the night sky. The notion was fanciful, and she moved it aside for the more practical questions that begged to be answered.
“Why did you buy a place so large?”
Sheriff Caulfield looked a bit uncomfortable, she thought, but gamely met her challenge. “I’d thought to find a wife and settle down here, maybe have a family.”
“What changed your mind?” She’d seldom ever been so intrusive, but there was a sense of sadness about the man that spoke to her. Perhaps he’d been disappointed in love, or had lost his beloved to death. Sarah looked up at him, her gaze seeking to look beyond his casual manner. “You needn’t answer,” she said hastily as his mouth tightened. “I was rude to press for details.”
“No.” He shook his head. “Not rude, Miss Murphy, just being a woman, I suspect.” His smile appeared then, and she welcomed its return. “I found that my job took more time at first than I’d planned, and then I decided that the choices in Benning were pretty scanty.”
“Surely in a place this size there are available women,” she said, her tone unbelieving. “Or are you too fussy?” She’d murmured the query beneath her breath, smiling to brighten the mood a bit.
“Maybe,” he answered. “I’m of the opinion that marriage is a contract that shouldn’t be entered into lightly. And unless a man has the time to invest in a marriage, he hasn’t the right to expect a woman to haul more than her share of the load.”
Sarah stepped up onto the porch and crossed to the wide front door. “I doubt you’d be selfish,” she said bluntly. “You seem the sort of man to play fair, no matter what the occasion.” She looked up at the fanlight over the door. “A woman chose that.”
He followed her gaze. “What makes you say that?”
“The colors, the design. It’s absolutely worthless, except for the beauty of its reflection inside the house.” She met his gaze. “It’s not of much real use, but it’s a touch of unexpected beauty.”
He reached past her to open the heavy door, and she noted the lack of a key in his hand. “I take it you don’t lock your doors.”
“Haven’t found any need to,” he said. “Although, with you staying here, I may have to make some adjustments to my routine.”
“Not unless it’s common knowledge that I’m here,” she answered. “I don’t think we’ll be in any danger, do you?”
His eyes narrowed as he looked down at her. “I wouldn’t want to bet on it. Your brother-in-law is not a happy man right now.” He stood back and ushered her into the wide foyer, touching Stephen’s shoulder as the boy passed in front of him. The child flinched noticeably at the lawman’s touch, and Sarah’s mouth firmed as she tightened her grip on the small hand she held securely.
Brace followed her inside and then leaned against the door. “What do you think?” he asked. Spoken casually, the words held a touch of pride. His dark eyes softened as he scanned their surroundings: the table against the wall, the bench beside it, the staircase that climbed to the second floor. On either side were doorways and open arches, and Sarah yearned to explore the rooms beyond her vision.
“You have a housekeeper?” she asked, noting the clean floors, the gleaming wood of the banister and the lack of dust in the corners.
“Someone comes in once a week. Looks like she was here yesterday, doesn’t it?”
Sarah turned to face him. “Just how often do you come home?”
He fidgeted a bit, she thought, and then his smile appeared, curving one side of his mouth as if he were unused to such a display of good humor. “Couple of times a week, I suppose,” he answered. “There’s not much here to keep me comin’ back, Miss Murphy. It’s got furniture, but without folks living in it, a house feels pretty empty, don’t you think?”
She nodded toward the nearest archway. “May I explore?” she asked, unwilling to step beyond good manners, though her instincts were crying out to look into the room that beckoned her. Something about this house, this man, drew her. He’d offered a haven for Stephen and herself, and though she’d accepted tentatively, the first glimpse of his home had decided her.
I’ve come home. The thought was almost frightening, and she trembled as he nodded his permission. At her side, Stephen clung to her hand, and together they crossed the threshold into the parlor. It was well furnished, warm and welcoming, unlike many formal rooms. A fireplace stood against the outside wall, apparently unused for some time, its hearth swept clean of ashes. Light curtains allowed the sunlight to cascade across the carpet, where the colors glowed in a rich display.
“It’s lovely,” she whispered, turning in a slow circle, Stephen clutching her fingers and following her lead.
“Come see the library,” Brace said, issuing the invitation in a measured tone. Instinctively she recognized that the room he was about to show her was important to him, and she followed his lead across the foyer to a matching room on the opposite side of the house.
Two walls were lined with bookshelves, and the third boasted a bay window with a wide, cushioned seat that begged a reader to curl there with her favorite book. A desk stood against the fourth wall, and furnishings that promised comfort were grouped before a fireplace.
“What do you think?” he asked again, watching her closely, as if her opinion was of great importance to him.
“It’s wonderful,” she said. She lifted one hand to include the shelves of books. “Have you read all of them?”
She thought his eyes darkened as he shook his head abruptly. “No. I don’t seem to find the time,” he answered. Yet a look of intense longing made her wonder that he didn’t spend his evenings here, that he didn’t utilize this room that was of such obvious importance to him.
He led the way back to the hallway and then toward the kitchen. “The dining room is next,” he said, pointing at another wide archway, beyond which sat a gleaming table, surrounded by eight chairs. A glass-fronted buffet against the outside wall caught her eye, and she noted the gleam of china and silver behind the upper doors.
“Do you use it?” she asked, and was not surprised at his abrupt movement of denial.
“No. I don’t entertain.”
“What a waste,” she told him, unaware of the yearning quality that imbued her words. They walked on, and she could barely resist a final look at the gleaming perfection of the room. Then she found her pleasure in its beauty almost eclipsed by the warmth of the kitchen into which he led her.
Windows hung with checked curtains and possessing wide sills caught her eye, and she murmured beneath her breath at the sight of pots of flowers in dire need of watering. That’s a man for you, she thought. With a sigh she stepped before the sink and pumped water into a handy pitcher. From there she headed toward the abused plants, pouring refreshment into the dry dirt they inhabited.
“I’m not real good at that sort of thing,” he said, humor lacing the words. “I think sometimes I should just give up on having anything that needs care. The woman who lived here was real big on flowers and such things, and I promised her I’d take care of them.”
Sarah shot an amused look in his direction. “She’d have done better to take them with her.”
“Couldn’t,” Brace said bluntly. “She got on a train and headed east to be with her children. Wasn’t any way she could haul along half the garden with her.”
Sarah looked around the sunny room, finding small touches that appealed to her feminine side, such as it was. She’d long since given up the idea that she’d ever be the sort of woman to wear silk finery. But that didn’t stop her from admiring the suggestions of a woman’s hand in putting together this house.
“Can you cook?” Brace asked, and she laughed.
“I’ve been told I’m pretty good at it. I’d say I can find my way around a kitchen about as well as you’d expect.”
“To tell the truth, Miss Murphy, I have no idea what to expect from you. You haven’t come anywhere near my first impression, that’s for sure.”