warily at the door. Boots stood vigil, whining as the wood creaked against a gust of wind. Hopefully he hadn’t gotten too close a look at her that day in town.
She dragged in a shaky breath and lifted the lid off her stewpot. Thick brown gravy bubbled around tender meat and potatoes. Her appetite soured at the memory of Nathan grabbing her in that alleyway. Her surprise had paled to his. He’d been shocked to see his little sister alive and well—a shock that had given way to undeniable fear. She’d relished the fear and had spent the weeks before the first heavy snow checking out his new place. Had she caught him alone she would have finished what he started in Bitterroot. But Nathan was a coward. He didn’t take a step out his door without being surrounded by his hired guns.
Before winter had set in she’d taken care to give Nathan the welcome he deserved. There wasn’t a holding pen on his ranch that could stay latched. Rattlers had become a common inhabitant of his outhouse. She’d spent quite a few nights bedded down in the tall grasses around his place, gazing at the night stars as she listened to her brother’s yelps and shouts echoing across the plains. Her brother hadn’t changed a lick in fourteen years—he was still a thief and a liar. And folks still turned a blind eye to his treachery. His band of cattle thieves spent more time skimming off neighbors stock than tending their own. She’d followed along on a few of their late-night roundups, watching intently as they gathered and moved nice tight herds, tucking the longhorns into canyons and valleys on Circle S land. It sure didn’t take much to spook a herd of cattle. She grinned, recalling just how high-pitched a man’s scream could hit.
She’d move on, just as soon as she settled her business with Nathan.
A burst of cold air announced Garret’s return.
“Damnation! That is a cold wind.” He slammed the door shut as a gust lifted the edge of his blanket, giving her a glimpse of his rounded backside.
Nothing I haven’t already seen, she lamented, which didn’t do a damn thing to settle the sudden stir of her pulse.
Boots pawed at him, demanding his attention, and nearly stripped him of the blanket he struggled to keep around his waist. “Easy, boy.” He knelt down, briskly rubbing his hands over the dog’s thick coat. “Glad to see you, too, but we don’t want to offend the lady.”
Lady? A pleasing stir moved through Maggie at the unexpected title. She watched the bunch and flex of muscles beneath his bronze, knowing full well there wasn’t anything offensive about Garret’s body.
“Worried about me, were ya?”
The dog hadn’t been the only one to fret over him. After all her toil and trouble, he’d traipsed off into the storm!
“Sick as you’ve been, you shouldn’t have risked the chill,” she said. “I would have given you some privacy.”
He straightened and shoved a hand through his tousled hair, giving her a clear view of his green eyes. The curiosity she saw in those gentle depths stirred a tingling surge of sensation she’d first felt when she’d awakened in his arms.
“No sense in you getting a chill, as well,” he said, taking a slow step toward her.
“I’m not the one who’s been abed the past two days,” she said, her tone sounding hateful to her own ears.
Be civil, she silently berated. She’d been schooled in good manners and proper etiquette, though she couldn’t clearly recall a single lesson. Her life before Ira was nothing but a distant dream.
“Your clothes are on the chest behind you,” she managed to say in a mild tone. “I hung your coat by the door. Your chaps are stored outside.”
He glanced at the stack of clothes and then looked back at her. “I’m much obliged.”
She would be, too, once he buttoned that chest into a shirt. Not that it would matter much. She’d memorized all the contours of his muscular form as she’d tended his fever, soothing him when he thrashed around, murmuring names in his sleep. Some she recognized, most she didn’t.
“Come here, Boots,” she said, patting her thigh. She rubbed the mutt behind his ear then pointed to his blanket. “Go chew on your bone.”
He stood beside her, watching his pet curl up in the corner. His lips curved into a grin as he met her gaze. The unexpected smile caused an equally unexpected surge of sensation low in her belly.
“I hope Boots hasn’t been any trouble for you.”
“Get dressed.”
His grin widened. “Yes, ma’am.”
She waited until he moved around the bed before she turned back to the stove. She watched the play of shadow cast on the floor as she took two bowls from her shelf and began serving stew.
“I sure appreciate you taking care of him,” he said, followed by the sound of his boots thumping to the floor as he pulled them off. “He’s been with me a long time.”
The care he showed for his pet was something that had always intrigued her. She couldn’t recall a time she’d spied Garret in the hills without his dog along.
“He hasn’t been any trouble.”
She could feel his gaze upon her, could tell he was watching her by the stillness of his shadow.
“Glad one of us hasn’t.” Fabric snapped as he shook his trousers out.
She set the steaming bowls aside as his shadow swayed, his hand reaching toward his head. She turned as he slumped forward and reached for the foot of the bed.
“Garret.” She was beside him in a flash.
“I’m all right,” he said, easing down to sit on the trunk.
Maggie curled her fingers into her palms, fighting her urge to soothe him. His complexion had paled. Wearing only his trousers, his shirt clutched in his hand, he rested his elbows on his thighs and blinked as though clearing his vision.
“You shouldn’t have gone out into the cold,” she scolded.
He glanced up, his gaze dark, burning with frustration.
Maggie took a step back, beyond his reach.
“Why in hell am I so weak?”
“You nearly froze to death. You’ve been abed for two days.”
His green eyes scanned her from head to toe and back again. “This may sound rude, but…should I know you?”
“I don’t see why you should,” she said, relief easing her stalled breath. “You were hardly conscious when I found you.”
“You seem to know me…and my dog.”
“I’m sure most folks around these parts are familiar with you and your cattle ranch, Mr. Daines.”
He shrugged on his shirt, his gaze never wavering from hers. “I thought I knew most folks around these parts. And I sure—” He paused, turning his face toward the collar. He sniffed loudly, his eyes widening as he met her gaze. “You washed my clothes?”
