descended the stairs carefully, holding his expression firm. “I’ll sleep up there.”
Her wide hazel eyes rounded with surprise. “Why?”
“I can’t sleep in the barn, because I assume your hands have rooms out there.”
“Yes, but—”
“So, I’ll sleep up there.” He started to walk away from her, then decided he owed her an explanation and turned back.
She met his eyes, doubt clouding hers.
“We need a little time to get to know one another,” he said. Besides, there was already one man sleeping in that bed with her, three would make a crowd. “Let’s give each other that time.”
Was that relief he saw in her expression?
A deep rose flush darkened her neck and cheeks. Her gaze moved to his shirtfront. If she had any feelings on the subject, she kept them to herself. But she didn’t argue with him.
He’d known she wouldn’t.
“Why don’t you open your gift?” he suggested.
“Oh, oh yes, of course.” She bustled into the kitchen. The small package looked pathetically alone on the enormous table. Meg approached it, reminded of her wedding to Joe and the reception that had followed at the Telford home, with guests spilling into the yard and gaily wrapped packages stacked atop a table on the veranda.
That had been before the war, when the citizens of Aspen Grove and the neighboring ranches had still been prosperous. Many of the items she and Joe had received that day had since been traded or sold.
Meg slipped the white ribbon from the package and peeled back the paper. The box held a set of carefully wrapped, cut-glass salt and pepper shakers with sterling silver lids.
“They’re lovely,” she said, and meant it. She’d had an entire set, much like them, consisting of spoon trays and berry bowls, jelly dishes and cruets, but those had been among the items she’d sold for feed last winter. “Rosa said it was from her and Lottie. Who’s Lottie?”
He couldn’t explain Lottie to her. Not just yet. “Lottie is...another friend of mine.”
“Oh. Well, it was kind of them to send a gift. I’ll be sure to send a proper thank-you.”
“I’m sure you will.”
She met his eyes uncertainly.
He’d have to tell her eventually. He’d given his word to take Eve and raise her.
Tye watched the mixture of expressions cross her lovely face, studied her straight spine as she turned and placed the salt and pepper shakers in her cabinet. The pale green dress was lovely on her. Its cinched style showed off the tiny waist he’d often admired and left him wondering about the softly rounded hips and legs so well hidden beneath the folds of the skirt.
A small, knitted purse with tasseled ties still hung forgotten from her elbow.
It had been all he could do in the time he’d had before today to earn the cash money for the ring. He would have liked to have given her something else, an heirloom or something meaningful, something a woman like her deserved. He’d never had much more than the clothes he wore. When he was old enough, he’d made enough to provide for his mother, and the rest...well, the rest he’d drunk and gambled because he was isolated and lonely—and because it was expected of him.
She wouldn’t have wanted anything that had belonged to his mother, anyway, even if he’d had somcthing.
Two solid thumps on the screen door brought him out of his thoughts.
Meg turned with a smile. “That’s Major. He must have been out hunting when we arrived. He’s probably curious to know who’s here.”
The door opened without her crossing to open it, and an enormous, long-haired dog nosed his way through. He carried a chunk of wood in his mouth, promptly crossed the room and dropped it in the wood box beside the stove.
“Good boy, Major,” she said with a laugh.
The dog immediately zeroed in on Tye and came forward slowly, nose sniffing the air, tail wagging low.
Meg crossed to Tye and touched his arm. “This is Major,” she explained, the touch obviously a sign for the animal that he was a friend.
The heat from her fingers seeped through his shirtsleeve, and Tye stopped himself from moving away from the temptation of her nearness. She moved away herself soon enough. “I’ll change now. I was going to make a pie for our supper.”
“I’ll change, too. And then I’ll acquaint myself with the place.”
“I know it doesn’t look like much right now,” she said apologetically. “We’ve had to let some things go in order to care for the stock. The fellas try, but, well...”
“It’s the best place I’ve ever lived, ma’am,” he told her honestly. “I’ll do all I can to take care of things now.”
She smiled then, a genuine smile of reassurance. “I believe you will, Tye. If I didn’t believe that, well, we wouldn’t be here right now. Neither one of us.”
Meaning she’d have been put off her ranch, and he’d still be trying to earn enough money to buy an acre or two. This way they each had what they wanted.
It would be a fine place to bring Eve to, as well. Maybe he should have told Meg about the child before they’d gotten married, but there just hadn’t been the right time. Working extra hours for the ring and these clothes had seemed the imperative need at the time. He had no idea how he was going to find the words to tell her now.
Besides, there would still be a little time for her to get used to the idea—he hoped. He hadn’t checked on Lottie for several days, so he really wasn’t sure about her condition.
Tye picked up his belongings, stowed them in the attic and changed into work clothes. No time like the present to get down to business.
Meg hated herself for the sense of relief that had accompanied Tye’s decision to sleep in the attic. She should have spoken up, shouldn’t have allowed him to postpone the inevitable. But she’d gone along. And the fact that she’d been unable to fall asleep that night was likely due to guilt over his uncomfortable sleeping arrangements.
She rose early and prepared breakfast as she always did. Gus, probably allowing them privacy, hadn’t ground the beans or started the coffee, which added another task to her routine.
Tye appeared from outside with Gus and Purdy. The two hands hung their hats and took their places beside each other on a bench. Tye stood awkwardly to the side.
Meg placed a hot plate of skillet cakes on the table, then realized he was waiting for her to assign him a seat.
“There.” She gestured to a single chair at the end. The chair where she usually sat. The chair that had been Joe’s.
Tye stood behind it.
Gus
