stubble and splattered in mud. He crossed the room in filthy boots without noticing she’d washed the floor. When he saw her, he slowed, his measured gaze sizing up the sight before him as if he’d never seen her before. There was something dark and angry about him, and something more. Something very lonely. Would he understand? she wondered.
Kora fought down the urge to run. Everything about this man spoke of his power, even the way he moved. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he ordered her out of his house and told her the marriage was a mistake.
But he only stared at her with dark searching eyes. Jamie was right, Kora thought, there was an animal wildness about him.
Glancing at Jamie, Kora drew in courage with a long breath. She’d play the part of this man’s wife as best she could. He might be more than she could handle. Or he might explode when he learned she wasn’t what she claimed. But she had to try or she, Jamie, and Dan would likely starve. This was her house if only for a while, and it was time to take control over what he’d given her.
‘‘Breakfast will be ready by the time you wash, sir.’’ Kora tried to keep her voice from shaking. Marrying a dead man was certainly a great deal easier than marrying Winter McQuillen. ‘‘And I’ll thank you to leave your muddy boots on the porch in the future.’’ She guessed he’d respect her more for advancing than if she ran in retreat.
Kora braced herself. If he was going to be the kind of man who hit his wife, she might as well find it out now. There was no use living in fear.
The cowhand at Winter’s left whispered the word
Winter straightened slightly, like a general preparing for a battle. The fingers of his gun hand opened and closed as tired muscles fought down anger. No one had spoken to him as she dared since he’d been a child. In the year since he’d taken over the running of the ranch, his word had been law and no one had ever questioned anything he did. Now this tiny woman faced him as if she had an army to back her.
Kora refused to move as he took a slow step toward her. She could see Dan out of the corner of her eye sitting at the kitchen table picking at his breakfast. Her brother wouldn’t even turn to look in her direction if she screamed. He saw no world but his own.
Jamie stepped to Kora’s side protectively, blocking Winter’s path to his wife. ‘‘We moved a washstand up to the third floor, and I hauled water up for you. But don’t bother to thank me, or expect it again.’’ When her new brother- in-law continued to stare at his wife and gave no reaction to her, Jamie looked past him to the others. ‘‘The rest of you can clean up out on the back porch. But don’t take long or the gravy will have to be cut.’’
Winter turned suddenly and took the stairs three at a time without saying a word. Both sisters let out a breath as the rest of the riders followed Jamie to the back porch.
For a moment Kora didn’t know what to do. She felt as if she’d just won a battle in what promised to be a long war. She looked around at the table. Except for the biscuits, everything was ready. Her first day, or night, of marriage had gone quite well. The only problem now was she had a husband.
She smiled to herself. She’d faced him straight-on. Since the day she’d been brave enough to step up and claim to be Andrew Adams’s wife, she’d felt herself growing stronger. Jamie had always been the fighter. But Kora saw something in this man she’d married-a strength, a need. If it took fighting to pull him out, then she’d fight. For in the end, even if she lost, she’d be a stronger person when she left him.
‘‘Watch the bread!’’ she called over her shoulder as she hurried up the stairs. ‘‘I have to talk to Winter for a minute.’’
FIVE
WHEN SHE STEPPED ONTO THE THIRD FLOOR, KORA almost tripped over a pile of muddy clothes. Winter must have stripped as he climbed. Slowly she leaned and picked up the garments, thinking of how tired he’d have to be after riding all night. Maybe she should have just offered to let him sit down to breakfast instead of insisting he wash first.
The sunrise was still shades of purple light, but she could see the outline of Winter as she moved into the attic room. He’d removed all his clothing, except his jeans, and was standing with his back to her. Somehow, leaning over the basin, bare chested and wearing so little, he didn’t seem all that invincible. After placing the clothes in a basket she’d brought up linens in, she stood at the top of the stairs watching him.
Her new bedroom was cluttered with things she and Jamie could carry up, but it still looked more like an attic than a bedroom. Only the man before her seemed to belong in this huge room framed in windows with only miles of sky for curtains.
As she watched, he poured a pitcher of water over his head and scrubbed away the dirt. Water splashed around the washstand, making a plopping sound on the hardwood floor below. Kora let out a cry as moisture spotted the wood, already badly in need of polishing.
Winter’s body stiffened at her outburst. He grabbed a towel and turned to face her. A worried frown darkened his already stormy expression.
When he saw where she stared, he said in a tone more of explanation than apology, ‘‘I’m sorry about the water. I guess I’m used to washing in the tub at the washstand. This little basin is pretty, but it doesn’t hold much. I could scrub up-’’
‘‘I’ll move a larger one up,’’ she whispered more to herself than him. ‘‘And maybe I’ll put a rug beneath the stand.’’
‘‘Don’t go to any trouble.’’ Winter wasn’t sure what to say. She was doing her best to be a wife, but he didn’t know how he was supposed to act. Did he thank her for doing what she thought was her job? Or did he get angry at the way she’d ordered him around downstairs like he was a guest who didn’t know how to act inside the house… Her house, he reminded himself… at least for six months. He’d told her she was the one to set the rules; the least he could do was follow them and not start a war over the first one she laid down. He could clean up before sitting at her table, and he could use the porch like the others from now on. It was foolish to bring water up two flights of stairs when he’d washed outside all his life.
He widened his stance and waited for her to look up. Win knew his voice hadn’t sounded kind, but she should at least realize he was trying. Marriage was probably like getting a new horse; they’d both have some adjusting to do. He watched her, wondering how long it would be before they’d be comfortable with each other. He was a good provider; she seemed to be a hard worker. What more did they need to make the marriage seem real?
Slowly her gaze climbed from the floor up his body. He noticed she reddened slightly as she focused on the top of his jeans where he’d left the first button undone. Her breathing quickened as she looked over the flat line of his stomach and the wall of his chest. If he hadn’t known better, he would have sworn she’d never seen a man barechested, up close. Her blue eyes sparkled with curiosity.
Not knowing what he should do, Winter rubbed the towel over his chest and continued to watch her. Her gaze followed his action as though her eyes and the towel were connected. He’d never given much thought one way or the other to his body, but now he felt himself wanting to grab his shirt. He suddenly felt exposed before her. What bothered him most was that he couldn’t tell if she liked what she saw. Her expression more resembled one of a woman observing a freak at the circus for the first time than a wife looking at her husband. Everything about her seemed to want to turn away, but she continued to stare.
He looped the towel around his neck and straightened slightly, as he buttoned the top button of his pants. Her eyes followed his actions closely. Winter gripped the towel ends with his hands and waited for her to make the next move. If she wanted to look, he’d allow her the time. After all, she had a right. He found himself wondering if she’d offer him the same opportunity.
Slowly her gaze reached his eyes, and she drew in a sudden breath as though what she saw frightened her even more than the sight of his body. Before he could react, she’d stepped away into the blackness of the stairs.
‘‘Kora,’’ he almost yelled. ‘‘Kora, what is it?’’
Only her voice reached him. A hesitant voice that seemed to be making up words even as she spoke. ‘‘I came
