His eyes widened, then he gave her such a tender smile her bones almost melted.
“I guess I should get supper going,” she finally said.
“Yes, get the grub on, we should have an early night. I want to start at first light tomorrow. It will be a grueling day Hank says, but much easier from then on. What supplies are you carrying?”
“Tins of beans, strips of dried beef, potatoes, coffee and sugar.”
“The boys and I have similar stuff. You get us some food, whatever you think, and get the camp set up.”
She was nearly going to argue then decided against it. What he said did make sense. He turned back to the herd and rode off with the wave of one hand, leaving her to prepare supper.
They had eaten only cold beans washed down with water at midday. What she wouldn’t give for a nicely set up little chuck-wagon to work from.
She buried several potatoes in the coals at the side of the fire, filled the frypan with water and laid strips of dried meat in it. Once they softened up a little, she would add the beans. There was too little time for anything else as the men would be starving when they returned.
The men arrived back as dusk fell. She had laid her bedroll to one side of the fire and watched as the men took their bedrolls to the opposite side. It pleased her when Rowan laid his out near hers. She had hoped he would want to be close to her yet feared he might favor staying with the men.
Each of them had their own eating utensils. “Food’s ready,” she called.
“Smells good,” Rowan said.
“It isn’t much with the meager supplies I had to work with.”
“I’ll have a quick feed then start my watch,” she was disappointed to hear Rowan say. He must have seen her expression. “It’s the way the boys wanted it.”
“Oh?”
“Well,” he lowered his voice. “You being a woman and all, they wanted me to be here during most of the night.”
She glanced over at the two men and smiled. Old cowhands they might be to some, yet to her they were true gentlemen.
They sat around the fire to eat. Everything had turned out well under the circumstances. Once the burned skin on the potatoes was peeled away, the insides were soft and tasty with a hint of smokiness adding to the flavor.
As soon as he finished eating, Rowan left them sitting around the fire.
“Have you only worked with beef cattle?” she asked as they shared a second cup of coffee and stared at the flames.
“I spent the first fifteen years of my life on a dairy farm,” Hank surprised her by saying.
“Really? We used to run a dairy herd when my pa was alive. It got too much for my brother and I when he died. Jacob’s heart wasn’t in it. A Swiss cheesemaker who lived near us used to take most of our milk because he said it had something extra in it.”
“The milk yield often depends on what type of grazing there is,” Hank mused.
“Yes.” She went on to tell him about the minerals in the ground under some of their pastures.
“I’ve heard of this before,” he said. “The quality of the milk is apparently important in cheesemaking.”
After a short time, the men retired to their bedrolls and she did the same. Not that she would sleep until Rowan returned. She liked him more with every passing hour and feared she was developing feelings for him too quickly. What he felt about her she had no idea. He was obviously attracted to her, or why would he kiss her like he did?
He had said little about his feelings. If only she knew more about men, it would help her to know how to behave toward him. She would hate him to think she was too forward or too cold. It was fine line she had to walk. Staring into the darkness she heard the murmur of voices from across the glowing orange of their fire.
Miranda must have dozed off. She awoke with a start to find Rowan placing his bedroll close to hers.
“What time is it?” she asked groggily.
“Around ten o’clock. Hank has taken over from me.”
The fire burned brightly now, so one of the men had obviously fed in more wood.
“Just do coffee and beans for breakfast. It will be quick and easy for you,” he said, as he came down beside her.
She had no idea who made the first move, only knew she was where she wanted to be – in Rowan’s arms.
“I’m glad you came into my life, Miranda,” he said softly, his warm breath brushing against her cheek. “God must have been looking favorably upon me.”
“I’m glad I met you, too, and not just because of the ranch. I’m grateful Bob suggested I write to you.”
“I’m sorry I forgot about you. I was worried sick about George’s failing health, then there was Edward to deal with. I somehow knew he was trouble. He will eventually destroy the ranch. At least poor old George won’t be around to see it. I’m thankful for that at least.”
“Try not to think about him anymore. Jacob did an awful thing to me also. We should forget about all the bad stuff and look to the future.”
Chapter Twelve
They arrived at Kingston Ranch in the early afternoon after a tiring four-day journey. Miranda notice Rowan glancing around with interest.
“I’d like to keep the herd as close to the house as possible for a few days. The steers will be all right. It’s the cows in calf I’m worried about. If it is okay with you.”
“Don’t ask me, Rowan, just do it. I know
