Free Marry Me by Susan Kay Law

assist her by dint of more effort than he would have liked. “You’ve had a long day. Last thing you need is to sit around out here talkin’. You should get some food, some rest, before you keel over again.”
    “I did not faint!”
    Why in a merciful God’s name hadn’t a man been the one to take over his claim? They could have a nice, civilized brawl over the rights; he could send the fella on his way and be done with it.
    “Fine. You didn’t faint.” Anything to get her off the ground and into the shack. “Quitting time anyway.”
    “Not exactly.” She climbed to her feet, swayed a bit—which he knew damn well she would have denied—and reached down to gather her tools. “I’m not done.”
    “Oh, you’re done all right.” The moonlight accentuated the shadows on her face, as if the night itself had painted the deep purple hollows beneath her eyes, her cheekbones. “You’re done in.”
    “I’m fine.” She weighed the tools in her hands, decided on the shovel. She rammed it into the earth and managed to wedge it in maybe an inch. “I’ve a schedule, you see. I’ve repaired the house, and now it’s time to clear the land. I figured it all out, how much I’d need to turn each day in order to be finished by my proving-up date, factoring in a reasonable amount of weather delays, and paced it all off. I have to finish the day’s allotment to stay on schedule.”
    He stared at her, openmouthed. She truly didn’t look insane. He’d spent weeks unloading murderously heavy cargo and he knew good and well he couldn’t clear the land himself by spring. “Most people just pay someone with a team and plow to clear it for them.”
    “Can’t afford it.” She put her foot on the upper edge of the shovel, hopped up and down as if her slight weight would force it in.
    “Doesn’t seem to me that you’ll be able to afford paying the prove-up fee then, either.”
    “Something’ll come up by next spring,” she told him.
    “Then something’ll come up to let you pay for the clearing.”
    She abandoned the shovel. It stayed where it was, blade half buried in the ground, handle sticking straight up like a signpost: “Foolish Easterner here.” “I intend to be prepared either way.” She bent, returning to the hoe. Slender as a reed, limned in moonlight. She’d lost weight since she’d arrived, not that she’d had much to spare. This place did that to a woman. A knowledge he lived…no, survived with, every day.
    “That’s it.” He snatched the hoe, cocked his arm, and sent the tool hurtling into the dark night like a spear. “You’re done.”
    “Now look what you’ve done.” She marched in the direction in which the hoe had disappeared.
    “Damn it!” He caught her in two strides. She yelped as he scooped her up, her arms flailing weakly.
    “Put me down.”
    “Show me you’ve got enough energy to fight back and maybe I’ll think about it.”
    She didn’t even try, just looked up at him with big, moon-shadowed eyes. The curve of her hip pressed against his belly. The side of her breast lay softly against his chest. Her head fell back, her hair brushing against his chin on the way, and her scent rose to him, feminine, new.
    Need exploded. Not want, not desire, not simple longing. Need . Unwanted, unsuspected, so absent from his life as to be utterly foreign to him. Something he’d never expected, never wanted , to feel again. Something he’d no right to feel again.
    And so he dropped her. Right on her rump.
    She yelped, lifted one hip to massage her butt, and glowered up at him.
    “All right then,” he said. “If you’re not bright enough to know when to quit, I’m not going to force you.”
    “Good,” she snapped. “That’s what I wanted from the beginning.”
    “Here’s what I don’t understand, though.” She pushed herself up, cute, bruised butt pointing sky-ward before she straightened, and he jammed his hands in his pockets. “You manage to charm men into doing just