Free Whitefeather's Woman by Deborah Hale

“Let alone husband for a lady like Miss Harris.”
    Ruth nodded. “They say his first wife died just to get away from him. Besides, I want to invite any likely suitors out to the ranch for dinner to meet Jane. I doubt Mr. Briggs would want to darken our doorstep any more than I’d want him in my house.”
    â€œOn account of his pa being killed by the Pawnee?” Caleb lit his pipe and took a deep puff. “Good enough, then. Scratch Lionel off the list of husband candidates.”
    â€œThere’s the butcher, Mr. Lundburg,” suggested Ruth.
    John shook his head. “He drinks.”
    â€œLou Lambert.” Caleb threw down the name like a challenge. “Hard worker. Churchgoer. Got a good spread.”
    â€œAnd seven kids.” John stalked over to the stove and poured himself more tea. “Jane wouldn’t last a month.”
    Several more possible suitors were proposed. John found some damning objection to every one.
    Caleb shook his head. “We’re never going to get this gal married off if you’re going to be so particular.” He poked the stem of his pipe at John for emphasis. “It isn’t like she’s got a big dowry or comes from a fine family or is any raving beauty.”
    John didn’t care for the knowing, slightly mocking glint in Caleb’s eyes that reminded him of the warning, “Be careful of this little maverick filly.”
    Did Caleb think John was objecting to these other men because he wanted Jane Harris for himself? Why, if Ruth had put his name forward, he’d be the first to name a dozen reasons why he’d be wrong for Jane and she for him.
    â€œWinslow Gray.” Ruth spoke the young doctor’s name in the same tone John had heard poker players announce a royal flush. She pinned her brother with a stare that dared him to find fault with her latest choice.
    â€œHe seems like a good enough fellow.” John wondered why he begrudged Dr. Gray this meager praise. “He hasn’t been in Whitehorn long, though, and nobody knows much about him.”
    Caleb chuckled. “I’d say that makes him a perfect match for our Miss Harris. And if it turns out she isn’t anxious to stay in Montana, he’s got no ties to keep him here.”
    â€œThat’s settled then.” Ruth folded up her beadwork and laid it in her work basket of woven reeds. “When you go into town tomorrow, Caleb, drop by Dr. Gray’s dispensary and invite him out to dinner on Saturday night.”
    â€œYes, ma’am.” Caleb lavished a fond smile on his wife, and suddenly John felt like an outsider.
    Would he ever experience that kind of bond with a woman? Where words were no longer necessary and a shared look could set them apart from the rest ofhumanity—in their own tiny kingdom with a population of two?
    John realized his sister was speaking to him. What was she saying?
    â€œI’ll expect you to praise Jane up to Dr. Gray when he comes to dinner.”
    â€œYou praise her. I’ll be out at Sweetgrass.”
    â€œGo ahead, just be back in time for supper.”
    He headed off to bed, muttering about bossy little sisters and trying to convince himself that Winslow Gray would make the perfect husband for Jane.
    Â 
    â€œWe’re having company for supper tonight.” Ruth handed Jane a dinner plate to dry. “Why don’t you fish a pretty dress from Marie’s trunk and I’ll warm a couple of irons on the fire to press the wrinkles out of it?”
    â€œCompany?” said Jane in the same tone she might have said “Snakes?”
    It had taken a while, but she’d finally grown accustomed to Ruth Kincaid’s family. Even her sometimes gruff husband and her often pensive brother. Jane no longer jumped or gasped when either of the men made a sudden move toward her. Her heart hardly sped up at all when one of them raised his voice. Now, the thought of a strange man at