Free Rocky Mountain Oasis by Lynnette Bonner Page B

go ahead and eat while the food is hot.”
    He shook his head, leading her to her chair and gently pushing her into it. “Don’t move,” he commanded as he headed out the door. “I’m going to get a bucket of cold water.”
    Brooke felt a surge of irritation. Who is he to tell me what to do? She got up the instant he was out of sight and, crossing the few steps to the stove, began to clean up the mess. Mopping up the coffee, she wrung it out into a bowl, her burnt hand stinging unmercifully every time the warm coffee soaked through the towel and touched the seared flesh. But she kept on, willing herself to forget the sensations his touch had sent coursing through her.
    Only when she heard Sky come back in the door did she pause to consider what her impetuous actions might cost her. She had just cleaned up the last of the mess and was down on her hands and knees wiping up the floor when Sky spoke from behind her.
    “I told you not to move.”
    She tensed, half expecting a blow, but then realized that his voice had been gentle.
    He took her elbow to lead her back to her chair.
    Embarrassment at her own carelessness and anger with herself for allowing the feelings this man evoked sparked her temper. She jerked her elbow from his grasp. “Someone had to clean this up—” she gestured emphatically to the stove and floor, “—before it soaked into everything and made stains that wouldn’t come out!”
    When the surprise on his face registered, she felt chagrined. She walked back to her seat and sat down.
    Coming over beside her, he set a small bucket on the table. She obediently put her stinging hand in the cool water, watching as he set about making a second pot of coffee. When he sat back down, she said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”
    A twinkle lit his eyes. “Think nothing of it, Mrs. Jordan. I’m sure there will be plenty of times in the future when I will need to be put in my place. That temper of yours might come in handy.”
    Plenty of times in the future? Suddenly the morrow seemed to stretch out for eternity. Could she live with this emotional stress for the rest of her life?
    He ladled stew into both of their bowls and they ate in silence, the only sounds in the room the metallic tink of silverware on tin bowls and the perking of the coffee. When she finished eating she removed her burnt hand from the water, finding that it felt much better.
    Still, the closer it got to the time to turn in for the night the more nervous she became. She was attracted to this man like she’d been to Hank at first, and the thought that he might turn out to be like Hank scared her more than she would admit, even to herself.
    As she washed dishes at the sideboard, Sky read an old paper in the cane chair by the door. But when she dropped the second dish with a metallic clatter, she heard him get up, his stealthy footsteps coming nearer. He spoke from directly behind her. “Brooke?”
    She stilled, not daring to look at him.
    “Brooke, look at me please.”
    Slowly she turned and fixed her eyes on his intense face, her wet, soapy hands held over the wash basin.
    He stood casually with his hands behind his back. “Do I look like a liar to you?”
    She was caught off guard by the question and could only shake her head.
    “I made you a promise. Last night and again this morning. I always keep my promises, Brooke. You have nothing to fear from me.” He slid one hand over his head, his eyes intent on hers. “I have made myself a bed in the barn. I hope you will be comfortable in here. Feel free to look around if you need anything. If it’s here, you are welcome to use it.”
    With that he bade her good night and, picking up his bag by the door, went out into the night.
    Brooke finished the dishes and crossed to the bed, tears of thankfulness coursing down her cheeks. I don’t deserve a man like this. Are there really men in the world who are the same in the privacy of their homes as they appear to be in