Love For Lenore (2 page)

She leaned forward, "Oh, your warm
hands feel good. My feet are so cold."

A smile tickled Heston's lips, but he
kept his head down and concentrated on her feet. Rubbing
vigorously, he brought some color back to her skin before setting
them in the bowl of water. "How are your hands?"

With her eyes trained on him, she
answered, "Better, thank you."

Heston tried not to look her
direction. If she only knew the feelings he battled, she wouldn't
be staring at him so innocently. But there was no place to hide,
he'd have to rein them under control.

He grabbed a towel and dried her hands
with purposeful efficiency. When he looked up, she still stared.
Gray eyes, the color of a storm, pulled at him with
curiosity.

"How did you find me?" Her voice,
again, struck a chord in his chest.

Heston moistened his lips and broke
eye contact. A silly woman, exactly what he didn't need. He shifted
the towel to her feet and tried to concentrate on the task at
hand.

But his thoughts wouldn't rest.
Perhaps she was exactly what he needed? An idea began to form in
his mind, one that would secure his cabin to him, among other
things.

He cleared his throat. "I heard you
cry. You should be thankful I was out checking my traps, else the
wolves might've found you first."

A gasp escaped her lips. "What about
my family?"

Heston's brow furrowed. "What family?
Are there others out there?" The thought disturbed him. If there
had been others with her, where were they now? Why didn't she tell
him when he'd been able to help? He glanced toward the cabin
door.

"On the trail, my family stayed with
the wagon. Will they be safe from the wolves?"

Heston sighed with relief. They had a
wagon, they weren't left defenseless from the weather. And they
were on a trail. What trail? The only trail he knew from the
direction she'd come was distant enough it would free him of
responsibility, at least he hoped. "If they're in the wagon, the
wolves can't get them."

He stood and eyed her more closely.
She seemed of moderate build, but certainly had no business in the
woods all alone. "What were you doing out there?"

"Our last wheel busted and I was the
only one able to handle the distance to get help."

"You know you are a far cry from the
trail don't . . ." The next word died on his tongue as the woman
untied her wool bonnet and slid it from her head, exposing hair the
color of corn silk fresh from the stalk. Heston's breath froze. He
longed to reach out and touch it, even more so when she allowed her
cloak to fall from her shoulders. Her silken waves fell to her
waist in a thick, healthy curtain.

She turned to where he now stood
behind her. "What do you mean? Am I not near Gadstone?"

"Gadstone?" Heston shook his head.
"You're a couple hours from Silverton, ma'am. That's south of your
destination. Didn't you realize you were traveling
downhill?"

She shook her head, confusion marring
her pretty gaze. "I didn't. I was so bewildered with the snow
blinding me. And so cold, so cold." Her voice faded in thought.
"What will I do for my family? They need a new wheel to move
on."

Grabbing a pot from the counter,
Heston began to heat up left over beans from lunch. "I reckon I can
help you with that, but I'll be needin' some help from you in
return."

Wide eyes full of questions stared
back. "From me? How can I be of help to you?"

"How old are you?"

Wariness crept into the corners of
stormy eyes. "Eighteen."

"Are you spoken for?"

"Mister, I don't see any reason why
you should be in need of such knowledge." She tightened her hands
around the bonnet in her lap.

The wind picked up outside and howled
against the cabin door. More than likely, it brought with it
additional snow. If he had to travel the distance it would be to
help her family, she was going to help him keep his
cabin.

Chapter Three

Lenore stared at the man stirring her
dinner. He seemed friendly enough, but what reason could he
possibly have of needing to know if she were spoken for or not? How
she wished she could answer yes. But she wasn't. Her relatives had
mentioned some possible suitors, but thus far, nothing had been
arranged.

"Well are you?" The man's impatience
at her stalling began to show.

She fought the desire to hide her
face, but instead forced herself to look his direction, though she
avoided his eyes. "No. I am not."

"What's your name?"

Lenore swallowed and wished he'd offer
water instead of questions. "Lenore Wakesmith. And
yours?"

"Heston Miller, and I need your help
if I'm to keep someone else from claiming this cabin."

Lenore's gaze widened as she turned to
take in the stranger's home. "What do you mean, who would want
this?" She stretched her hand out to encompass the one-room,
windowless home.

Heston slammed the spoon down, his
voice boomed with insulted pride. "This
cabin
happens to be
sitting on some of the best trappin' grounds around. My home is
what's keeping you warm. I built it with my own hands." He lowered
his voice as he set the beans on to warm. "And come tomorrow, when
I turn thirty, I lose it to a disreputable cousin if I'm not
married."

Lenore jerked her head toward him. Had
she heard right? "Married? Why? I don't understand."

"I inherited the land. But it came
with a stipulation to make sure there was a family line to keep
control. And since I haven't married, I don't have any lineage to
hand it down to. That puts me out of the running. And the cousin I
mentioned is all too eager to lay hands on it."

Lenore tensed as he stepped closer.
She wasn't scared, yet, but the effect he had on her was foreign
enough to keep her on guard. "If I may be so bold as to ask, why
haven't you married? Aren't there single women in this town of
yours–Silverton?"

"Ha!" He pulled up a stool and sat
across from her, running his hands through wavy, red hair. "The
women in Silverton are nothing but empty-headed, fancy hens who
wouldn't know their way around a hide if it hit them. I'm a
trapper. That means I bring in animals to skin, skins to cure, and
skins to market. It wouldn't do me any good to marry one of those
chattering women. I'm looking for a help-meet, someone who can work
along-side me."

Lenore swallowed against the tightness
in her throat. "But you don't actually expect to marry
me
?"

The man reached for a near-by lantern
to increase their visibility of one another. Lenore gasped at the
sharpness of his eyes; bright green and lined with lashes dark
enough to make any girl envious. His intense stare caused a
foreign, but not unwelcome, sensation in the pit of her
stomach.

"Do you have a better idea?" Heston's
gaze moved from her face to her hair.

Lenore brought a hand to her head to
smooth down her tresses. Her hair was most likely mussed from her
bonnet. But she quickly realized that wasn't the problem. The green
of the man's eyes darkened and a tense sensation filled the room.
Where was that safe feeling she'd claimed a moment ago?

Heston set the lantern down at their
feet. "I think we could get along okay, don’t you?"

"Wh-why do you think I'd consider your
plan? I don't know you. Surely you don't think saving my life
entitles you to my hand in marriage?"

His eyes flashed with temper as he
stood. "I hope I didn't gage you wrong, thinking you had more sense
about you than the town's women." He set out two tin plates before
stirring the beans.

With more thrust than needed, he
slopped a spoonful of their dinner onto each plate. "I told you if
I trudged all the way back to help your folks, you would owe me a
favor. I don't know why you're getting upset over the idea. You
said yourself you're not spoken for. I didn't figure you being keen
on becoming an old-maid."

Lenore gasped at his cruel tongue. But
what could she say? To tell him she had planned to marry only for
love would be asking him to laugh in her face. She glanced about
the small interior, desperate for an escape.

"Are you going to join me?"

Heston's soft question left her
baffled. Lenore turned and found him seated at the rough-hewn table
set with two steaming plates of food. Her stomach rumbled in
response, loud enough to be heard by her host.

His lips stretched into a smile as he
tilted his head toward her plate. "Come on, I'll carry your
chair."

His smile exposed a different man.
Lenore stood, too perplexed to do anything else. He stepped toward
her to reposition her chair at the table. Once seated, he offered
his hand across the table.

Lenore furrowed her brow.

"I'll say the blessing."

This trapper prayed over his meals?
One minute his temper flamed, the next he showed all the grace of a
preacher. She slid her hand into his. A flash of heat passed
between their palms. Had he felt it, too? She raised her eyes to
find his already staring at her. A moment of silent consideration
passed before he slowly lowered his lids, disconnecting the
radiance of his green eyes. Lenore found herself able to breathe
again . . . until his thumb raked across her knuckles.

". . . please keep Lenore's family in
Your care and bless this union. Amen."

Chapter Four

Union.
What did he mean by
that? Could Heston have been referring to their dinner together or
was he actually bold enough to think she would marry him? Lenore
didn't know, but she certainly wasn't going to approach the subject
again.

The comfort of the dinner, coupled
with her tiresome day of walking left her sapped of strength.
Unable to stifle a yawn, Lenore covered her mouth with her hand
while the other propped her chin on the table. True, she'd been
taught better manners, but if it weren't for her elbow, she'd fall
asleep with her head on the table.

Heston cleared their plates then stood
beside her. "I'd say you're done for the day." He helped her up
then carried her to the lone bed. Lenore was too tired to concern
herself with etiquette, and fell asleep as her head came to rest on
the pillow.

***

Lenore stirred and opened her eyes.
The morning sun carved a rectangle of sunlight around the single
door. How late was it? She wasn't one to sleep in, but exhaustion
had claimed her last night releaving her of her senses. One glance
about the cabin confirmed she was alone. She sat on the edge of the
bed and stretched. Where was Heston? Had he realized his demand was
unrealistic and gone to fetch her family without her? But they
wouldn't want to come here, they were to be on their way . . . and
where would that leave her?

Before panic could settle in, voices
sounded from outside. She recognized the smooth timber of Heston's
voice, but who were the others? Smoothing the folds of her skirt,
Lenore slipped on her shoes and bonnet.

Just as she finished with her laces,
the door opened, revealing an enthusiastic Heston. Smiling, he
reached for her hand. "Ready?"

Lenore winched as he pulled her arm
through his. "That's my sore arm."

His brows furrowed in confusion before
realization donned in his eyes. "From the trap? Let me
see."

Heston didn't wait for her response as
he unbuttoned the arm of her sleeve to expose where the trap had
pinched her skin. Now black and blue, the bruise looked more
menacing than the injury actually had been.

"Lenore," remorse filled Heston's
voice, "I'm sorry I forgot to check this."

Embarrassed by his attention, Lenore
pulled her arm back to her side. "It's okay. It doesn't hurt much,
and it looks worse than it feels."

Pride filled his gaze. "This will
definitely work. I was right. You're nothing like the women from
town."

Before Lenore could rebuff his false
illusions, the open door widened. "Well, well, you weren't pulling
our legs. You really have yourself a bride. Let's get this done
then, Heston, before that no-good cousin of yours can devise
another plan."

Lenore choked in shock and stumbled as
Heston led her toward the door. The sunlight glared off the snow,
temporarily blinding her path. One hand shielded her eyes while
Heston kept the other tucked in the crook of his arm. She turned
his direction and whispered in anger, "Are you crazy? I never
agreed to this."

For one quick moment, disappointment
shadowed his face before he covered it with a smile. "Then I
suggest you concentrate on your family. That's why I got the
preacher so early in the morning. The quicker we take care of this
matter, the quicker we can help them."

Lenore faced forward and noticed a
small crowd had gathered. Where they'd come from was unbeknownst to
her. Some sported genuine smiles while others looked on with
disapproval.

Lightheadedness blurred her vision and
weakened her knees. Could she go through with this? Were there no
other options? Heston pulled her closer to his side and encouraged
her to lean on him. Lenore momentarily gave up her battle for
rational thought and enjoyed the sensations that rippled through
her.