Free Her Colorado Man by Cheryl St.john Page B

sitting position, instinctively snatching the pillow. Mariah didn’t let go quickly enough, so the momentum jerked her toward him.
    She fell across his lengthy form. Thankfully the pillow wedged between them, but she was too close. He clamped a hand on her upper arm to steady her. Instinctive panic fogged her vision and blocked rational thought. She clawed his hand away to escape his hold.
    “What the hell, woman?”
    Jerking from his grip and struggling to stand, she got to her feet and threw the pillow at his pallet. Out of breath, she backed away, and then pointed at the floor.
    Warily eyeballing her, he ran a hand down his jaw, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The sock with the rice fell upon the covers with a tiny swish.
    She took another step away.
    “You might’ve tried to wake me gentle-like.”
    “Might have,” she said, mocking what he’d said to her about looking away the night her sisters and cousins had shoved her in the door nearly naked.
    He cast his penetrating dark gaze her way.
    A minute passed during which she speculated whether or not he could hear her heart pounding. What would he do now, this man she didn’t know? She hadn’t yet seen him get angry. How safe was it for her to be in this room with him night after night? Her panic was justified. Finally he turned to extinguish the lamp and then, by the sounds of it, fumbled with his clothing.
    She picked up another pillow and clutched it to her chest until she could tell he’d lain down and intended to stay there. Mariah padded to the other side of her bed and got between the sheets. The first thing she noticed was the unfamiliar spicy scent that lingered. She rolled to find a comfortable position and her toes touched a warm place where he’d lain. She jerked her foot back and turned the opposite way.
    She would not give Wesley Burrows any more power over her.
    Even as she made the silent vow, her resolution was weak. He already had the ability to toss her world into upheaval.
    And he’d done it.
     
    Philo Ulrich didn’t have much use for him; it had been plain from the start. Wes guessed that Friederickwas well aware of Philo’s lordly attitude and had deliberately sent Wes to the mash house as a trial by fire.
    Keeping fires lit beneath huge vats of wort, mashed grain mixed with hot water, was one of the hottest, most physical chores at the plant. This process, which released the flavor of the hops, created yet another sweet, pungent aroma.
    Friederick believed Wes was a man who would leave his wife and child to go seek his fortune; and he believed, too, that Wes had only sought out Mariah when a fortune hadn’t been gained.
    For the past week Wes hadn’t minded laboring alongside fellows ten years younger than him; he was up to the task. Nor did he mind sweating or getting calluses on his hands. This work might be as far from driving sleds through the Yukon as one could get, but he’d never shirked a hard day’s work in his life. In fact, he enjoyed the change of venue and learning about the beer-making process.
    Wes had tried his hand at mining for gold, but he’d soon decided striking it rich that way was a gamble. There had been money to be made by other means—money that was a sure thing. People paid up to fifty cents or more apiece to have mail carried to remote locations. The challenges of travel and severe weather had suited him just fine. He’d never spent much, so he’d built quite a tidy savings, part of which he’d invested.
    What he did mind was Philo’s constant harangue. “If a grizzly comes at us, you’ll be the first one we call.” Thecontempt in Philo’s tone was unmistakable. “But until then, just stick to your job and let me do the thinking.”
    Wes had merely asked if it wouldn’t be a good idea to use a larger wheelbarrow for the wood. He exchanged a glance with his soot-faced companion and went back to work. If Philo thought he could break him, he was mistaken.
    Another worker came from