Free Jane Bonander by Dancing on Snowflakes

galloped toward him and barked a greeting, shaking Nate from his dangerous musing.
    Susannah quickly crossed her arms over her chest. They stared at each other for a long, taut minute.
    Nate broke the tense silence. “I’m riding into town. Can I bring you anything?”
    She shook her head, her eyes wide and her lips still open in surprise.
    Nate touched the rim of his hat and nudged his mount toward the road, knowing he should have apologized for watching her, but actually not the least bit sorry he had.
    Susannah sagged to the grass, her heart thumping so hard she was afraid her ribs would crack. What had she been thinking, shedding her clothes when she
knew
Nathan Wolfe was close by? But she hadn’t expected him to follow her. Spy on her.
    She shuddered, a foreign mixture of pleasure and indignation making her knees weak and her stomach fluttery.
    Max meandered toward her, his tail swishing the bushes and his “smile” intact.
    “Don’t you smile at me, you . . . you mongrel,” she scolded. “You’re useless. Positively useless. A raccoon would make a better watchdog than you.”
    He nudged her hand with his nose, prompting her to scratch him.
    Susannah laughed in spite of her distress. Taking his ears in her fists and shaking them gently, she ordered, “Just keep away the bad guys, will you?”
    After she and Corey had dressed and returned to the cabin, she formed the bread dough she’d mixed earlier into loaves while Corey slept. She kept conjuring up the picture of her and Nate staring at one another across the prickly manzanita. She also wondered how long he’d been there, peeping at her.
    A flushing warmth heated her when she thought about it. She should be outraged. Her indignation should be thorough, for he had violated her privacy.
    She moved her bread near the stove and spread a cloth over it. So, why wasn’t she angry? Lord, she wasn’t even upset. She was
crazy
, that’s what she was. Nathan Wolfe caused entirely unfamiliar feelings to stir inside her. They were more than pleasant. But they scared her.
    She picked up a camisole she’d made for a local rancher’s wife, settled into a chair by the fireplace, and started some intricate hand stitching. Nathan had returned earlier and she could hear him outside, sawing more wood.
    An hour had passed, and she was just putting the bread into the oven when she heard voices outside. Puzzled, she went to the window and glanced into the yard. She sighed, annoyed.
    A buckboard had pulled up with an elderly couple in it. Nathan was listening as the man talked and gestured toward one of the wheels. Lord, the road near her cabin was becoming a thoroughfare. She pushed away her agitation, went to the door and stepped out onto the porch.
    “Good morning, dear,” the woman called from the buckboard, giving her a warm smile. “Isn’t it just a lovely day?”
    Small talk. Susannah was never in the mood for small talk. Pasting on a smile, she left the porch and greeted the sweet, frail woman with the kind smile.
    Ma Walker had looked kind, too, remember?
Oh, Susannah remembered only too well. But the kindness had vanished every time she’d done something to displease the old woman.
    Susannah approached the buckboard. “Is something wrong?”
    The woman started to get down, and Susannah took her hands, helping her to the ground. The skin over her knuckles was so thin Susannah could see the tiny blue veins winding beneath the surface.
    “Oh, we have a shaky wheel, I’m afraid.” Her face was flushed, and once she was on the ground, she fanned herself with a handkerchief. “We should have had it looked at in Angel’s Valley, but my husband . . .” She paused, a bit embarrassed. “You see, Alvin, my husband, is so afraid for my health, he didn’t want to take the time. He just wanted to get me home.”
    Susannah knew it was selfish, but she didn’t want company, much less a sick woman whom she’d have to care for, no matter how brief their stay. She