Lone Wolf's Lady. Judy Duarte

she were to ever reconsider her decision never to marry, which she wouldn’t do, she could imagine living in a home like that.

      “That’s a lovely little house and yard,” she said. “Do you know who lives there?”

      “Yes, I do. Hannah.”

      The woman’s name rolled off his tongue simply, yet affectionately, and Katie’s heart sank. She had to admit that she didn’t like the idea of Hannah living in that particular house, although she couldn’t say why.

      Tom turned the team onto the property. When they reached the barn, he pulled the horses to a stop and surveyed the grounds, where a hen and several half-grown chicks pecked at a small patch of grass.

      Four big pots of green plants and two flower boxes filled with pansies marked a walkway and graced the steps of a lovely little porch, where a roughly handcrafted bench and rocking chair beckoned anyone in need of peace and quiet. Yet in spite of the warm and colorful welcome of the house and yard, Katie felt uneasy about the type of reception they might receive.

      Tom secured the reins and climbed down. Then he circled the wagon and reached up to help Katie. At one time she’d struggled with his assistance, but after traveling together the past few days, she found his help not only easier to accept but even comforting.

      She took his arm and, as she lifted her foot to step over the side, he swung her to the ground, just as he’d done each day of their journey. But today, for some reason, her heart beat a little faster, her breath caught a little deeper.

      As he released his hold on her, her legs wobbled a bit, and she reached for his forearm to steady herself, gripping the corded muscle, feeling his strength.

      “Are you all right?” he asked.

      “I will be.”

      “Good.” He nodded toward the house. “If Hannah doesn’t answer the door, take Sarah Jane inside. I’ll get Erin out of the wagon and put her in the spare room. If you’re hungry, you’ll find cookies in a blue tin box in the kitchen.”

      Katie balked at his suggestion to just make herself at home. “I could never enter someone’s house uninvited. If Hannah doesn’t answer, Sarah Jane and I will wait on the porch.”

      “Suit yourself. Hannah usually keeps that tin full. I think Sarah Jane would like something sweet to eat.”

      The girl nodded and grinned, regaining a wee bit of the spark she’d had before the assault. She seemed to be healing—inside, as well as out. In fact, the bruising along her right arm had begun to yellow and fade.

      Of course, the child who’d once been clean and dressed to perfection now had dirty hands and a black smudge across her nose.

      “She needs a bath first,” Katie said.

      Tom chuckled, and his brown eyes sparked. “So do you.”

      He was teasing, of course, and probably didn’t mean anything by it, but...

      Katie ran her hands along the skirt of her soiled and wrinkled dress. She’d planned on bathing and changing into clean clothes, but to have Tom point it out left her uneasy and unbalanced.

      As Tom untied the two horses from the back of the wagon and led them to the barn, she couldn’t help but watch him go. He was an intriguing man and a formidable opponent. Yet she had to admit that she’d felt safe riding with him and knowing that he’d been watching over them.

      As Tom entered the barn with the two saddle horses, Katie felt a tug at her skirts and glanced down at Sarah Jane, who pointed to the small outhouse in back.

      “Good idea,” Katie said with a smile. “And then we’ll find the well and wash up outside. We don’t want Hannah to think we’re ragamuffins.”

      Again Katie worried about the impression her appearance might make, a concern she’d rarely had in the past.

      What was the matter with her? She didn’t care what others thought of her.

      You’re a lady, she reminded herself. Not a ragamuffin, a stray or a soiled dove. She was every bit as good and kindhearted as Hannah, no matter what she looked like on the outside.

      Besides, Katie had no need of a life like Hannah’s. She was going to Granville, where she would have a small but cozy home behind the school. She would be a fine teacher, an upstanding and respected woman in the community. A happy spinster. Life would be just as she’d always wanted.

      So why did her tummy feel so fluttery?

      Maybe she’d eaten something that hadn’t sat very well.

      After using the outhouse, she found the well and drew a bucket of water. Then she dampened her handkerchief and washed Sarah Jane’s face and hands. When she finished cleaning the girl, she washed herself the best she could, then she led Sarah Jane back to the front porch and took a seat.

      Katie chose the wooden bench, knowing Sarah Jane would prefer the rocker.

      Moments later, Tom sauntered out of the house, where he must have taken Erin, and stepped onto the porch. Before Katie could question him, he headed for the buckboard, which he’d left near the barn. As he began to unhitch the team, a dog howled in the distance, catching his attention.

      Katie turned to the sound and spotted a black buggy approaching the yard with a beast of a dog trotting beside it.

      The driver, a stout, gray-haired woman, called out, “Lord be praised. You’re home, Tom!”

      Katie watched as the dog, which looked more like a wolf, barked and then raced toward the man.

      Oh, dear. Should she grab Sarah Jane and run inside for safety? Perhaps she didn’t need to do anything yet. The house was still a good distance from the barn. And the creature didn’t seem to notice anything other than Tom. So she and Sarah Jane were probably safe enough for now.

      Tom laughed, the smooth, easy timbre calming her nerves. Then he started toward the road, bracing himself as the black wolf-dog leaped into his arms and gave him a slobbery lick across the face.

      “Hey,” he said to the creature. “How are you doing, boy? Is Hannah feeding you enough?”

      The gray-haired woman pulled the buggy into the yard and halted the horse. “That dog eats better than you do, young man. It’s good to have you home. I hope you’ll be here longer than the last time you came.”

      “I can only stay for dinner. I need a good night’s sleep, then I’m leaving in the morning.” Tom set the wolf-dog down and ruffled its black woolly head before he strode to help Hannah down from the buggy. “Where’s Trapper? He told me he was going to meet me here.”

      “He stopped by a couple days ago. I asked him to go with me when I called on the widow Johnson this afternoon. I took her some chicken stew and peach cobbler for her supper tonight, and he stayed at her place to do a few chores. But he should be back soon. He knew you’d be coming home any day.”

      “Good. I need to talk to him.”

      Hannah glanced at the buckboard, which the quilts still lined and the canvas tarp still shaded. “What’s that? And where’s your horse?”

      “Caballo is in the barn. And that? Well, I suppose you could say that I brought you a surprise.”

      “Not another wolf puppy, I hope.” She shook her gray head, chuckling.

      “I think you’ll like this one a lot better.” He continued to talk to her, but he lowered his voice to the point it was impossible to hear from where Katie and Sarah Jane sat.

      Hannah nodded, then spoke, too, her voice also a whisper.

      When Tom pointed toward the porch, Katie got to her feet. While she was no longer concerned about meeting the woman she’d once thought Tom might be courting, she still wondered what kind of reception she would receive.

      However, if Hannah held any