Heartland Courtship

Brennan finally could sit up. His slide had taken him within a foot of the ladder and there stood Miss Rachel near his boots. Still she didn’t speak. Brennan’s heartbeat and breathing slowed to normal. He didn’t know what to say. Better to let her think he just slid. “Sorry to give you a scare, Miss Rachel.”

She tilted her head like one of the robins nesting in the tree nearby. She reached out her hand to him.

And surprising himself, he took it.

“Please be careful, Brennan Merriday. I wouldn’t want to see thee laid low again.”

He tried to ignore the softness of the hand in his. Tried to ignore the fact that the sun glinted off the threads of gold in her hair and that her expression drew him like bees to honey. In any other woman, he would have interpreted her comment as selfish, as indicating that she wanted him to keep well and in working condition. But did this woman have a selfish bone in her body?

The moment was broken when they heard Noah’s whistling.

Their hands pulled apart. She blushed and he looked away.

“Morning, Rachel. Brennan, I was thinking,” Noah called out as he approached them, “it makes more sense for us to work together. I think we’ll get more done. Why don’t I hand you the shakes we cut? You can be nailing new ones in place and I’ll go over the roof, checking every shake to make sure none are loose. I don’t think Ryerson did a very good job on his roof. Then you can help me with the oven.”

“Sounds good to me,” Brennan said, forcing out the words.

Miss Rachel slowly disappeared from view as she climbed back down the ladder. Brennan felt the loss of her and hardened himself. What had they been thinking? Holding hands in broad daylight?

* * *

About two weeks later Rachel tried to calm her fluttering nerves. Tonight she’d stay alone in her cabin for the first time. As the shadows darkened, Noah’s family, who had helped her move in today with her new table and chairs and bed Noah had made her, was leaving. Sunny had helped her prepare the first meal in her new home. The day had been busy and happy. A nearby farmer had delivered her young cow, chickens and a rooster. Now she would have cream and eggs for her baking. But Brennan’s distant behavior had pruned her enjoyment of the occasion.

Noah’s wagon had just turned the bend out of sight when Brennan ambled over to help her carry the last of the chairs inside.

“Thee didn’t join in much today,” she said.

“Didn’t feel sociable.”

She sensed that he was about to lay out the last chores he would be doing for her and then announce he’d be leaving. His restlessness over the past few days had not gone unnoticed. She didn’t like the gloom that realization opened inside her. Yet she’d wanted to be on her own and now she would be.

Three strangers appeared on the track to her cabin. This was an odd occurrence. “Hello, may I help thee?” Rachel called out, though as they came closer she recognized that the three looked disreputable.

“We’re looking for the lousy Confederate you got here!” one declared, slurring his words from drink, no doubt.

“Yeah, we don’t want any scurvy dogs like that hanging around,” another added belligerently.

To her dismay, Brennan picked up a tree limb lying on the ground and moved to confront the men.

“The war is over,” Rachel said, trying to stem the confrontation.

Brennan ignored her. “There is a lady present here. From your voices, I’d say you men have been imbibing today. Too liberally.”

The men glowered at her. Even in their inebriated state, Brennan saw, they realized that fighting with a proper lady present would be roundly condemned.

Rachel stepped forward, hoping her presence would send the strangers away.

Instead, a fist shot past her.

Brennan dodged it easily. Then he slammed his fist into his attacker’s nose. Blood spurted.

Rachel cried out. Brennan pushed her out of the fray. She stumbled and fell to the grass.

The other stranger rushed Brennan. He dealt with him. The third one turned and bolted. The two who had been bested followed suit, cursing as they ran.

Rachel put her hands to her ears, shocked to silence. “Oh!”

Just as they disappeared from view, the first one, his hand pressed over his bleeding nose, shouted, “This isn’t over!”

“Yes, it is,” Brennan muttered, rubbing his knuckles.

Rachel began to weep, trembling.

Brennan gripped her hands and pulled her up and into his arms. “There, there,” he said, holding her against him. “You’re safe now. I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.”

The temptation proved too great to resist. She let herself lean against him, feeling the strength of him supporting her. She tried to stop her tears. “I’m sorry to be so weak.”

“I’m sorry you had to witness such behavior.” As he said this, his lips actually touched her ear. “You’re not weak.”

The last of the weeping swept through her like a wind gust and left her gasping against him. “I’ve never been near violence before.”

“Then you’re a lucky woman.” He patted her back clumsily.

She wiped her face with her fingertips and looked up into Brennan’s face. His expression of concern moved her and she reached up and stroked his cheek.

What am I doing?

Rachel straightened and stepped back. She must break contact before he did. An unwelcome thought lowered her mood more. Tonight would be her first night sleeping alone in her own house. She’d never spent a night alone in her life. And these violent men had come tonight.

“Maybe I should sleep in the shed tonight,” Brennan said, his gaze going to the trail to town.

The idea had appeal. But she would be here alone every night, perhaps for the rest of her life.

In the clearing, Rachel and Brennan faced each other. “Thee doesn’t think I am really in danger of them coming here again tonight?”

Brennan bumped the toe of his boot into a tussock of wild, dry grass. “No, not because the three show any sense, but they’re probably all passed out from drink by now.”

Rachel stared at the ground, listening to the frogs in the nearby creek.

“I’ll bar my door,” she said with a lift of her chin, which belied her inner trembling.

“Maybe you’d be better off if I didn’t hang around any longer.”

“Brennan Merriday, in case thee has not noticed by now, I am not a woman who gives way to pressure from others. I have hired thee and I expect thee will show up for breakfast tomorrow and continue the work that still needs doing here.”

He looked up.

And suddenly she was very aware of how alone they were here just outside her door. Funny sensations jiggled in her stomach. “You were very brave,” she murmured.