Prim And Improper

“Let me help you down, ma’am,” the young man offered, grabbing the reins near Blackie’s bridle with one hand and holding out the other toward her.

“I can manage just fine myself,” Louise replied. She swung down as quickly as she could and dusted herself off.

“I’ll get your bag for you, Miss Livingston.”

Caleb took her traveling bag off the back of her saddle right away. His overtly polite manner gave her the feeling that she was checking into a fine hotel, not the week of servitude she would have done anything to avoid.

“It’s about time you showed up.” The words were barked out in a loud, obnoxious voice. Louise pivoted and found herself staring into Ty Saunders’s dark, glowering face. “It’s midmorning already.”

“You didn’t stipulate the hour I was supposed to arrive,” Louise retorted primly. She was not going to start off on the wrong foot by letting this man believe he could ruffle her feathers.

“I said morning.”

“Ty…” Cal said, his voice anxious.

“Which, as you said, it is,” she replied coolly. “Now if you’ll just show me where to go, I’ll be happy to begin my week of enslavement.”

“I’ll show you the kitchen, Miss Livingston,” Caleb said. He would have taken her arm, except that between her baggage and the horse, his hands were already full. “No, first I’ll show you your room. I hope you like—”

“Mornings here begin at the crack of dawn,” Ty insisted rudely.

Louise turned back to him in a huff. If this was the way he was going to be, it would be a long week, indeed! “I’ll be certain to remember that—tomorrow.”

“See that you do.”

“I will!” she cried in exasperation, almost forgetting her vow concerning feather ruffling.

Caleb thrust Blackie’s reins toward his older brother, then put a steadying hand on Louise’s arm. “I’ll show you the house,” he said, leading her away before they could continue their spat.

Louise hated to think what shape the inside of the modest wood-frame house would be in, but she steeled herself for the worst.

So it was with no small degree of astonishment that, led by Caleb, she traipsed through room after tidy, dusted room. She could hardly believe it. This house was neater than her own!

“And this is the kitchen,” Caleb announced, ushering her through a doorway at the back corner of the house.

Louise took one peep at the spacious, perfectly organized kitchen and was stunned. A counter that lined one wall, with open shelves beneath it and a closed cupboard above, was scrubbed until the blond pine practically glistened, Over a sink was a large window that looked out onto the yard behind the house. Next to the door was a woodstove, with a gleaming copper kettle sitting atop it, and across the room was a small oak table surrounded by four woven-back chairs.

“The pump’s right outside,” Caleb said, apparently anxious that she see everything at once. “And just this morning, I killed and dressed a chicken for us. All you’ll have to do is—but of course I’ll help however I can—oh, and let me show you the wood I brought in for you.”

Louise was all astonishment as she was tugged outside to inspect the tidy grounds. Either these were the two neatest, fussiest men she’d ever had the good fortune to come across, or one of them had made certain that she received a good impression of them when she came.

Even after her brief observation of both men, it was clear that only one could wear the neat title. And it wasn’t hard to guess which brother might have done the careful preparations in anticipation of her arrival. But why? She had hoped to make the week go by faster by keeping herself busy. Now she wondered what on earth she could possibly do here for an entire week.

Caleb finally left her alone in the kitchen, but all day he checked in on her, making certain that she wanted for nothing. Usually while he was there, he would perform some task for her, hauling water or bringing in more wood for the fire. She couldn’t have been more surprised at the difference in the man.

Probably, she guessed, he wanted to raise the Saunders name in her esteem for his brother’s sake. He asked her often about Sally, and always spoke of her youngest sister in the most glowing, respectful terms.

Ty, on the other hand, never so much as mentioned Sally’s name. Not that she had seen much of the man—thank heavens. Only occasionally had he clomped through the kitchen, black hat on his head, boots spewing dirt across the clean floors. He spoke in grunts and murmurs, and his lips were turned down in a permanent surly frown.

Every time she saw him, she knew she had been right to give in to his demand that she come here. Ty would be a terrible influence on impressionable Toby, and the thought of him touching her sister repelled her.

Even more important, seeing the beast in his lair made her more certain about her own feelings. She realized that the amount of time she had spent thinking of him lately had nothing to do with male-female attraction. The man simply irritated her. It was no wonder she couldn’t get him out of her thoughts: he was the most brutish being she’d ever met. And his table manners! Louise had never heard such slurping and smacking and belching as she did that night, all coming from Ty’s side of the table, not Caleb’s. It was a puzzle that two such different brothers could have been raised in the same household.

Throughout dinner, she tried to figure it out. The two brothers even looked nothing alike. While Caleb was tall and scrappy, Ty was simply a mountain of a man, all brawn and muscle. Caleb was clean shaven, and had light brown hair that was cropped short but still grew in unruly waves. His brother, of course, was a dark, brawny creature. She would have doubted they truly were brothers were it not for the gray eyes they shared.

Only Caleb’s didn’t disarm her as Ty’s did. The younger man’s eyes shone with friendliness and a desire to please, while Ty’s…well, sometimes it was as if the man could see right through her clothes. How could a single pair of gray eyes make her so terribly uncomfortable?

A loud, heartfelt belch echoed through the kitchen, and Ty threw his napkin down on the plate he had just scoured clean with the last piece of a biscuit. Louise cringed, but she gritted her teeth and held her tongue on the breach of etiquette. She did pointedly remark on Cal’s surprising ability to make polite dinner conversation, an observation that his brother met with a cavemanlike grunt.

After that, she remained silent.

“That wasn’t half bad,” Ty said finally, stretching his arms above his head and letting out a big yawn.

“I’m glad you liked the meal,” she answered with definite reserve.

“I didn’t say it was anything to crow about,” Ty retorted.

The sheer audacity—

“I thought it was wonderful,” Caleb said, looking anxiously at his brother.

She sent her adversary a satisfied smile.

“Cal would think that, since he did most of the cooking.”

Louise’s cheeks heated in fury, but she couldn’t deny that Caleb had been a big help. It was clear that she had misjudged the young man on her previous visit to the ranch. He was twice the man his muscled-up brother was.

Besides, she thought, remembering their roll in the mud mere days before, anyone was bound to slip on a rainy day.

Ty got up and tromped out the back door without a word.

“He usually smokes a cigar after dinner,” Cal explained. “I’ll help you clean up.”

“That’s not necessary,” Louise told him. She also felt like assuring him that he didn’t have to explain his brother’s rude behavior. It wasn’t his fault, after all.

“I insist,” he said, helping her clear the table.

Caleb brought in water and kept her company as water heated over the stove. Later, as they stood over the filled sink washing dishes, he said, “Ty just hasn’t been himself lately.”

Poor Cal. Louise’s heart went out to him. He probably led such an isolated life out here in the middle of nowhere with his brother that having someone actually observing them in their home was painful. And yet, their house showed signs of having had a civilizing influence sometime. There was a cabinet with china inside it in the sitting room, and a nice, finely carved sofa with velvet cushions, and several bookcases.

“He’s just acting so strange because…because you remind him of Sally.” Caleb sighed. “He misses her so.”

Louise pursed her lips disapprovingly. “He wouldn’t be missing her now if he hadn’t started seeing her on the sly to begin with!”

The young man’s face turned crimson, and again her heart went out to him. It wasn’t his fault his brother was such a clod. “Don’t blame yourself, Caleb. It’s not as if you lured Sally out here, or poor impressionable Toby.”

He wiped a plate dry and swallowed, his Adam’s apple making a long, tortured journey up and down his throat. “No,” he agreed hoarsely, “I had nothing to do with Toby.”