Destiny's Embrace (6 page)

He unrolled a length of the gauze, wound it around her cut palms and tied the ends closed. “Now, stop hauling stuff outside until you heal.”

“No. You hired me to do a job, bandaged hands or not.”

“I don’t know how things are done in Philadelphia, but here, we don’t work our women until their hands bleed.”

“These little cuts aren’t going to make me bleed to death, Mr. Yates. Surely the women here are made of sterner stuff than that.”

Logan wondered if she’d ever met an argument she didn’t like. The sassy firecracker mouth probably drove her late husband to drink, and it made him wonder if she brought that fire to the marriage bed. He glanced Eli’s way and found his partner smiling as if he’d read Logan’s mind. “Go back in the house and wait for me. We’ll ride over and have dinner with my stepmother in a few minutes.”

“Do women usually ask ‘how high’ whenever you say ‘jump,’ Mr. Yates?”

He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. When he opened them, she was standing there blazing in all her golden, cat-eyed glory. Having had just about enough of her for the moment, he placed his hands on her waist and slowly lifted her up to eye level. “You ever use that mouth for something besides sassing?”

Then he kissed her, and apparently caught her so off guard, that for just the briefest of moments, she softened, and he tasted the sweetness of her lips. Then her mouth clamped shut like a sprung bear trap, and she went stiff as a board. Thinking he’d bested her, he set her down on her feet. He was feeling pretty superior until she dragged her bandaged hand across her lips like she’d just been kissed by a goat and kicked him hard in his bad knee. Pain spread up his leg and he howled, “Shit!” The explosion of agony had him cursing a blue streak while hopping around like a peg-legged sailor doing a jig.

Eli and the men laughed so hard they almost fell down. She, on the other hand, looking angry enough to spit, spun around and stormed back the way she’d come.

Logan was still cursing, and Eli and the hands were still laughing when she disappeared inside the house.

Mariah was furious. The urge to pace back and forth was thwarted by all the remaining clutter, so she stood there in the middle of the parlor and fumed. How dare he! She wanted to march back outside and kick him again. What an insufferable, arrogant, pigheaded excuse for a man! Any woman in her right mind would throw the job in his face like wet wash and tell him to find someone else, but again, she’d not give him the satisfaction. If he fired her fine, but for now, she was staying, and if she had to kick him from California to Hades and back again to make that plain, she would.

When she looked up, Eli was standing in the doorway. The grin on his face didn’t help her temper. “What?” she demanded.

“Came to help you clear out the parlor. If you got the guts to kick Logan, no telling what you’ll do to the rest of us, so thought we’d come give you a hand.”

Only then did she see the other men standing behind him. They looked equal parts amused and afraid.

“Thank you,” she whispered. She was so grateful, tears stung her eyes. Blinking them back she asked, “And Mr. Yates?”

“Rode off to see Old Man Crane to buy lumber for the new bunkhouse.”

And suddenly, sunshine filled Mariah’s world. She’d won the first round. She was certain there’d be more battles to come because she and Yates got along like two wet cats in a bag, but she savored her victory and put the ranch hands to work.

Chapter
6

A
testy
Logan gritted his teeth against the angry throb in his knee as he dismounted and
made his way into the office of the lumber mill.

“Why you limping, Logan?” Old Man Crane asked.

“Knee’s bothering me.”

“The wife’s got some liniment up at the house. You
want me to fetch you some?”

“No thanks. Just want to put in an order for some
board feet so I can get my bunkhouse rebuilt.”

“Finally going to get it done, huh? How much you
need?”

They spent a few minutes figuring out just how
much. Once that was decided and the price agreed upon, they walked back outside
and Logan limped over to his stallion with as much dignity as he could.

“You sure you don’t want that liniment?”

“Yeah, but thanks again.” As he remounted, he
fought to keep the ache from showing on his face. “You sure you’ll have the
lumber ready for me by day after tomorrow?”

“Yep. I’ll start running the saw tonight.”

“Thanks. I’ll send Eli over to haul it back.”

“Welcome. Take care of that knee. You get rheumetiz
in it and it’ll be all she wrote.”

Logan nodded, wheeled Diablo around and rode slowly
back toward home. Although he was determined not to think about her, his mind
was filled with images of the firebrand known as Mariah Cooper. He still found
it hard to believe she’d actually kicked him. As he’d noted earlier, most women
tittered and batted their eyes when he came around. Not a one ever dragged their
hand across their lips after his kiss, or registered their complaint in such a
pointed and painfully memorable manner. Admittedly, he’d provoked her, but her
provoking him with that sassy, kissable-looking mouth was what set the whole
episode in motion to begin with. He had no logical explanation as to why he’d
kissed her that way, other than having been driven around the bend by her
sassiness. He’d never done anything that insane to a woman before. She was
knee-high to a bumblebee and weighed less than his saddle, yet she’d challenged
him as if she were one of Queen Calafia’s Amazon warriors. Damnedest experience
of his life. And now, he was riding back from ordering lumber, something he
hadn’t even thought about doing when he picked her up at the train station that
morning. He didn’t want to delve into why he finally put in the order because he
was too busy trying to determine when he’d lost control of the situation. One
moment, he’d been in charge, and the next . . .

The pain in his knee flared up as if to remind him
just how formidable an opponent she was. And her callused hands? That was a
surprise as well. She was a housekeeper, so he hadn’t expected her to have the
soft unblemished hands of a woman waited upon by servants, as Alanza had before
she married his father, but the Cooper woman’s hands had been hardened by
work—real work, and not just the run-of-the-mill scrubbing of floors or
polishing silver. She claimed to have chopped wood and pumped water since an
early age. Had there been no men in her family during those years of her life?
Had her husband Henry been an invalid, and thus unable to take on the
responsibilities usually shouldered by a man? The questions tied to his new
housekeeper were stacking up like cords of wood, and he had no answers. What he
did know was that he’d underestimated her and he’d be damned if he let it happen
again. If she wanted a test of wills, he’d give her one because he refused to be
bested by a short whirlwind of a city woman who couldn’t even sit a horse.

A
n
hour into clearing the parlor, Mariah was outside adding more items to the pile
of belongings when a fancy black coach pulled up. Out stepped a beautiful
ivory-skinned woman with shining black hair whose face and attire made Mariah
stop and stare. She was wearing a divided black riding skirt, a white
ruffle-front blouse with long blowsy sleeves, a short black vest with silver
buttons, and fancy black boots also shot through with silver. The hat perched
saucily on her sleek pulled-back hair had a flat crown. Mariah thought her look
odd but very stylish, and wondered who she might be.

“Hello,” the woman called in an accented voice.
“I’m Alanza Yates. Are you Mrs. Cooper?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Welcome to California. When did you arrive? Why
hasn’t Logan brought you to the house so we could meet properly?”

Mariah wondered how to explain the volatile
afternoon. This was his stepmother after all.

Eli Braden walked out with his arms filled with
shovels and dropped them on the pile. “Afternoon, Senora.”

“Eli. Where’s Logan?”

He glanced at Mariah and started to chuckle. “Kind
of a long story. I’ll let Mrs. Cooper tell it to you.”

Mariah wanted to call out, “Coward!” but kept
silent.

Mrs. Yates assessed her silently, until Mariah
finally confessed, “In all honesty, your stepson is very hard to get along with,
Mrs. Yates.”

A small smile played across her lips. “I find that
to be true at times, as well. So, what happened? Where is he? You haven’t killed
him, have you?”

Mariah wasn’t sure whether to show how amusing the
last question was or not. “No. He went to purchase lumber for the new
bunkhouse.”

Surprise filled her face and voice. “The one he’s
been putting off building for nearly a year?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What brought that on?”

“Me, I suppose. I kicked him in the knee.”

Her eyebrows rose above her widened eyes.

Two of the ranch hands walked out and added more
items to the pile. After nodding a greeting to Mrs. Yates and giving Mariah a
smile, they returned to the house.

“You kicked Logan in his knee?”

“Yes, ma’am. He kissed me and I took exception to
it.”

“I see.”

“I’m fairly sure he’ll fire me when he returns, so
if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back inside and empty the parlor of as much
of the clutter as possible before he does. Thank you so much for my train fare.
I’ll wire my aunt in the morning for a ticket back to Philadelphia. It’s been a
pleasure meeting you.”

She hurried back inside.

The stunned Alanza watched her go.
She kicked Logan in his knee—for kissing her?
And
yet, he hadn’t beheaded her or fired her on the spot. Alanza knew nothing about
the woman except for the information included in Mrs. Brown’s recommendation,
but deciding she needed more insight into the beautiful golden-eyed housekeeper,
Alanza went into the house to offer her assistance.

When Logan rode up, there were people crawling over
his house and property like ants. Men were carrying things outside and loading
wagons, and women were washing his windows. He spotted Alanza’s buggy and
assumed she’d somehow gotten herself involved with the effort. If she’d joined
forces with the widow, he’d be cooked goose for sure. Gingerly dismounting, he
took a moment to free Diablo of the saddle before slapping the stallion on the
rump to send it galloping off toward the stable. He placed the saddle on the
ground near the house. Mentally pledging to strangle anyone who tried to move
it, he went inside.

Ants outside, beehive inside. Walls were being
washed along with the inside panes of the windows. A small stream of people were
moving in and out the hall that led to his bedroom carrying myriad items that
had once been stacked against the walls. Eli and a man who usually worked in the
vineyards were hauling the old stove toward the door.

“Welcome back,” Eli tossed out as they passed by.
“How’s the knee?”

Logan growled.

“She’s in the kitchen.”

Logan took off in that direction. The parlor was
nearly cleared out, and he could actually cross the floor without having to
watch his step. Entering the dining room, he was surprised to see the top of his
dining table free of the rain slicks and tarps that had covered it for the past
year. Also gone were the coils of rope that had once stood in the corners.

In the kitchen, the widow and his stepmother were
looking up at his cabinets. What they were planning was beyond him, but he
figured he’d find out soon enough.

Alanza noticed him in the doorway and smiled. “Ah,
there you are, Logan. Mrs. Cooper and I are trying to decide how many new
cupboards you’ll need in here.”

He met the golden eyes of his housekeeper. “May I
speak with you a moment? Privately.”

“Certainly.”

Logan expected her to show signs of remorse, but
instead she raised her small chin in challenge. He noticed Alanza’s amused
interest, but ignored it and gestured the firecracker toward the kitchen door
that led outside to the back porch.

Once they were there, she took up a position with
her back to the railing and faced him with folded arms. “I assume you’ve decided
to fire me, so I’ve already told your stepmother I plan to wire my aunt in the
morning for train fare back to Philadelphia.”

“You’re not getting off that easy.”

She looked confused and that pleased him because he
doubted she was caught short very often. “I’m not firing you, but if you want to
turn tail and run back to Philadelphia, I’ll understand.”

For a moment she didn’t respond. It was as if she
was trying to decide if he was telling her the truth. “You deserved that
kick.”

“And you deserve to be fired, so let’s call it
even.”

She studied him for a moment longer. “My actions to
the contrary, I don’t like causing other people pain.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

”Decent women don’t like being manhandled.”

“Did you storm around like this with your beloved
Henry?”

“I didn’t have to. He was sweet and kind and
understanding.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Doesn’t matter. How’re your hands?”

She showed him her still wrapped palms. “They’re
fine.”

“Have you eaten?”

“Not yet, but your stepmother has invited me to
supper.”

“Good. If the two of you could kindly shut down
this work detail, I’d like to sit in my tub and soak my knee in peace.”

She looked down at his knee and for a fraction of a
second he did see guilt. Pleased to know she did have a conscience beneath all
that sass, he offered an olive branch of his own. “Sorry about manhandling you.
I’ll use a better approach next time.”

Her mouth dropped, but before she could begin
railing at him, he left her with a small smile and walked back inside.

Mariah stood alone on the porch. She had to have
misheard him.
Next time?
Surely that didn’t mean he
planned to kiss her again. She swore to herself that if he even looked like he
was intent upon that, she’d kick him in both knees and sock him in his nose.
What a conceited, egotistical . . . Deciding not to let him get her
blood up again, she calmed herself and left the porch to rejoin Mrs. Yates.

“Logan wants us to clear everyone out, so he can
soak his knee in peace,” Alanza told her.

“I know, he said the same thing to me.”

Alanza peered into her face as if searching for a
clue as to how the talk on the back porch had gone. “You two didn’t argue again,
did you?”

“Not really. We decided to call our battle a
draw.”

“Good, then while he’s using the tub, why don’t you
grab your things and come home with me? I’m sure you’d like to clean up before
we eat and you can do it there and not have to wait for him to get done.”

“I’d love that.”

“If he shows up for dinner, fine, and if he
doesn’t, that’s fine as well.”

Mariah was looking forward to ridding herself of
the perspiration and grime of the day. “Let me get my clothing and toiletries.
I’ll let him know I’ll be leaving with you.”

While Alanza went to speak with the workers, Mariah
walked down the now clutter-free, empty hallway and knocked on his bedroom
door.

“Come in.”

When she entered, she found him standing shirtless.
For a moment, she was mesmerized by his sculpted bare shoulders and torso and
then immediately turned her back. The heat of embarrassment washed over her
cheeks.

“You need something?” he asked, sounding
amused.

“I wanted to let you know I’ll be going home with
Mrs. Yates.”

“Okay.”

She’d never seen a man’s naked chest before and she
swore the sight of his rock-hard frame was now permanently etched in her mind.
Who knew a man could be so beautifully made?

“Anything else?”

Truthfully, she wanted to feast her eyes on him
again, which shocked her even more than the sight of his bare chest. “No.”

“Then I’ll see you later.”

She fled.

After her departure, Logan chuckled. He’d never
seen a woman turn her back so quickly. Had she never seen Henry shirtless? As
prim as she acted, he tended to think not. Many married couples went to their
graves having never seen each other totally nude, and even made love mostly
clothed. He on the other hand slept nude and made love the same way. Women like
Mrs. Cooper might consider that shocking, but he didn’t, and the women who
shared his bed didn’t either.

M
ariah
rode the entire way to Alanza’s home thinking about Logan, but soon put him
aside when she was escorted into the large bathing room. Not only were there two
such rooms but both had running hot water.

She stared in wonder at the luxuriously appointed
room with its white flocked walls and large tub.

“Logan’s house has hot water as well,” his
stepmother informed her. “There are boilers outside feeding the pipes.”

Mariah wondered if she’d died and gone to heaven.
There’d been indoor plumbing in the flat she’d shared with her mother back in
Philadelphia, but the only way to have hot water was to heat it on the stove
first. And there certainly hadn’t been a tub. Hip baths had been the order of
the day for as long as she’d been alive.

Alanza showed her how to work the spigots and then
left her alone.