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Part of him couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He hadn’t believed it when the guard he’d placed on the road had said there was a rider heading for the ranch. He hadn’t wanted to believe it when the guard had said it was a friend of Elizabeth’s, but it was hard to ignore when “it” sat at his kitchen table making free with his cobbler. Elizabeth was the first decent thing he’d ever obtained for himself, and already someone else was moving in.
Asa saw the man swirl his finger around the plate, cleaning crumbs off the edge. He said something. Elizabeth laughed, touched his hand with hers, and then got up to pour him some more coffee. The same as she’d done for Asa that morning. More than he resented the last of his baked goods going to the interloper, Asa resented Elizabeth fussing over the stranger. She was his wife, dammit.
Before he moved in to establish his claim, Asa took one last look at the stranger, noting his clean clothes, clean hands, clean everything. He remembered Brent’s fancy dress and lily white hands. He looked down at his own, caked with dirt and grime. While Elizabeth had married him because of his reputation, she obviously had preferences in a man. He watched as the stranger efficiently used the napkin before him, and winced when he couldn’t remember using his this morning. Clearly, given her druthers, Elizabeth liked a man clean and well-mannered. He knew enough not to wipe his mouth on a tablecloth, but was sure there were enough holes in his education for a woman with a fancy Eastern education to take note of. As for the dirt…he swatted at the dust on his denims. That came with the territory, but he guessed he didn’t need to track it daily into the house.
He stepped back from the window. Elizabeth seemed safe enough, and, as hunkered in as the stranger was, Asa figured he’d stay put for the time it took him to visit the pump.
* * * * *
Five minutes later, damp from the washing up, Asa stepped through the back door. As soon as he entered the kitchen, the laughter stopped. Elizabeth jumped up. It could have been due to guilt, or, more probably, to the way the door slammed in his wake.
“Evening.” He took off his hat, wincing when dust puffed out. His face and hands were clean, but a day’s labor clung to his clothes. The stranger was clean, presentable and comfortable. It irked Asa almost as much as the drop of water that slid down his neck.
Elizabeth came immediately to his side. “You’re home early.” She took his hat from his hands.
“One of the men said he saw a stranger headin’ this way.”
Elizabeth started, and then smiled. “It must have been the new man. Everyone else knows Aaron’s horse about as well as they know Aaron.”
Actually, it’d been Sam, and he’d recognized the horse, but Asa hadn’t found the knowledge that a male friend of Elizabeth’s was visiting any more calming than if he’d been a stranger bent on mischief.
Asa looked over Elizabeth’s shoulder at the man wiping his mouth on the napkin. He was probably in his early twenties and about as comfortable as a man could get.
“That blood bay gelding yours?” Asa asked.
“Yes.”
“Nice horse. Shame he’s gelded.”
“That’s what I thought when I bought him off an Easterner.” The man pushed back his chair. The same squalling chair Asa had been sitting on that morning. The darned thing didn’t even squawk. Asa took the irritation in stride as the man extended his hand in greeting. “Aaron Ballard.”
“Asa MacIntyre.”
“You have quite a reputation.”
Asa settled his weight onto his heels as he exchanged a civilized handshake. “People like to talk, especially when things get boring.”
Ballard didn’t let go of the subject as easily as he released Asa’s hand. “Any truth to the rumors?”
He shrugged. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Elizabeth fussing with his hat. “Enough so you needn’t be worried Elizabeth’s been left short-changed and flat-footed.”
The man opened his mouth, probably to grill him more, but Asa cut him off by saying to Elizabeth, “You know, darlin, I kinda like that hat just the way it is. I’ve got the dust settled just so. Keeps it nice and balanced in a strong wind.”
Elizabeth immediately stopped fussing with the brim. “I’m sorry.”
He smiled, liking how sweet she looked, how respectable. How wifely. “No harm done.”
Instead of putting it away, she smiled uncertainly. There was a soft side to her smile that had him wondering if she was glad to see him?
“Did you really post a guard on the house?” she asked. She was staring at him like he’d done something more extraordinary than taking care that his wife was safe.
His “Yes” was drowned out when the stranger said, “Of course he did, Elly! What man worth his salt wouldn’t make sure the ranch house was safe? This is where you keep the money.”
