felt herself stiffen as once again she found it impossible to breathe. Caleb. She started to turn in her chair, then stopped—frozen by fear. What would she see on his face and in his eyes? How could she have simply shown up in his house after all this time?
“This is Ruth,” Zeke was saying. “She’s a Cheyenne, at least half Cheyenne. I was there today and she’s real nice. She came back with me when I told her that you didn’t make very good biscuits and John—that’s her brother—said she would stay until the new housekeeper arrived.”
As the boy spoke, she gathered together her shreds of courage. She had survived much in her twenty-eight years of life…surely she could survive seeing Caleb again.
She rose and turned to face father and son. Even as Zeke continued to chatter, Caleb’s steady gaze settled on her. His gray-blue eyes were still the color of a winter storm. The lines around his mouth had deepened. He was a tall, strong man—honed by the hard land and the difficult task of raising cattle. She saw the changes in him. The wariness in his expression, the ease with which he drew his son to him. She saw the things that were the same. The hint of a dimple, even though he wasn’t smiling and the heat of desire long denied but still alive within him.
She’d thought he might yell, telling her that she had no right to be here. Not after she’d refused him all those years ago. Instead, he simply spoke her name.
“Hello, Ruth.”
“Caleb.”
Her lips barely formed the words. There were only a few feet between them, yet she felt as if they were on opposite ends of the world. For reasons she couldn’t explain, she found herself wishing he would open his arms to her and draw her close. She needed the comfort that only he could give. Yet he didn’t offer and, of course, she didn’t ask.
He glanced around the kitchen. “You shouldn’t have to see the ranch house like this. You remember it being nicer.”
She nodded. “But I know you haven’t had a housekeeper out here in several months.”
“Sarah left when her sister was widowed. I’ve sent for someone. She should arrive by the end of the week, this one or next.”
“Zeke told me. I thought I could help out until then.” She paused and bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry about Marie.”
At her words, his expression closed. He rested his hand on his son’s slender shoulder. “Tully’s finishing up with the horses for the day. Aren’t you supposed to help him?”
Zeke looked as if he were going to protest, but then he nodded and headed for the mud room. “When is dinner going to be ready?” he asked her.
“Not for another half hour. You have time to complete your chores.”
He shot his father a grin. “Ruth made cobbler with the last of the dried fruit.”
“Then bring in some cream when you come back to the house.”
“Yes, sir!”
The back door slammed as the boy ran toward the barn. Ruth smoothed her hands on her skirt.
“Caleb, I know this is a surprise for you,” she said quickly, needing to make him understand what had happened. “Zeke came to the village today. He was running away. Something about a new schoolteacher.”
“He’s not too fond of the idea of learning to read and do his numbers.”
“So I gathered.” She stared at the center of his broad chest, not able to look him in the eye. “John set him to work scraping a hide, which is a difficult enough task to make anyone want to return home. When Zeke finally admitted school might not be so horrible, he also mentioned that you and he had been without a housekeeper for some time. John suggested I fill in until your new one arrives. He thought it would be a way for me to thank you…for what you did.” She cleared her throat. “Back all those years ago.”
“What did you think?”
She didn’t know what to think. Standing here in the Kincaid family kitchen, she felt as if nothing had changed. It was once again nine years ago and her foolish young woman’s heart had fallen in love. She’d allowed herself to dream about what might have been, until she’d remembered her responsibility to her people. Her destiny was to heal those in need. Being a wife and mother was someone else’s destiny.
“I’m pleased to have the opportunity to repay my debt,” she said formally.
“Is that what I am? A debt?”
She forced herself to look into his face. “That’s not what I meant, Caleb.”
“Then why are you here?”
At least she had an honest answer for that question. “I don’t know. If you want me to leave, I will. Otherwise, I’ll stay until the new housekeeper arrives.”
Emotions flashed through his eyes, but she couldn’t read them. Instead of responding, he simply shrugged as if her decision didn’t matter to him one way or the other. Then he turned on his heel and walked out of the room, leaving her standing in a place of both past and present, wondering how she’d ever thought she had forgotten what it was like to love Caleb Kincaid.
* * *
“PA, RUTH SAYS she can teach me my letters,” Zeke said as he stuffed half a biscuit in his mouth. He chewed it and swallowed before continuing the familiar argument. “And if you teach me my numbers, then I don’t need to go to school. Right?”
Caleb tried to concentrate on his son’s words, when every part of his being was intensely aware of the woman sitting across from him at the freshly scrubbed kitchen table.
Instead of chili from the bunkhouse, they were dining on stew and fresh biscuits. The sugary smell of the baking cobbler filled the kitchen. The counters were clean, the dishes washed and put away. But even those unusual circumstances weren’t enough to keep him from thinking of Ruth.
She was so damn beautiful. He found himself wishing she’d grown ugly in their time apart. But he had a bad feeling that all the ugly in the world wouldn’t take away his wanting. She had always been able to ignite the fire within him with just a look or the sway of her hips. Now she had returned, and breathing in her sweet scent made him ache with longing.
Nearly as powerful as the need was the anger. He resented being reminded of how he’d once cared for her. How he’d been a fool, offering marriage. She refused him and had left the same day. Left him wondering what he’d done wrong.
“School is important,” Ruth said in her quiet voice. “A measure of a man is more than strength and experience. The measure of a man is taken by what he knows of his people and his world.”
“I know most everything ’bout the ranch,” Zeke announced before gathering up another spoonful of the stew. “Hank’s teaching me ’bout putting the right bull with the heifers and Tully’s teaching me how to repair tack. We’re working on a saddle right now.”
“There’s more to the world than the ranch,” she pointed out. “You need to know about other places and times.”
“Why?”
“It’s
