Patchwork Bride. Jillian Hart

Mr. Shaw? If you two will take the mare and buggy to the stables, you’ll find Eli waiting. He’ll show you around, get you acquainted with our expectations before he leaves us for good at the end of the day. I’ll tell Cook to keep the stew warm for when you’re ready. Use the back door only.”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      Although Shane couldn’t see Braden’s expression, he could sense a wariness. The hardest part of their job wasn’t the horses but the people who owned them. He swiped snow from the old mare’s forelock, taking care to keep the cold wet from falling into her eyes. She was a sweet thing, watching him patiently with a liquid brown gaze and a quiet plea.

      “You did a fine job today,” he assured her as he took hold of her bridle. It was the mare that had fooled him into believing Meredith’s pretense. This was no fine pedigreed animal, but an elderly mare with a slightly swayed back. Strange that she was the driving horse of choice for the Worthington girls and not some fancy pony.

      His nape prickled as if Meredith Worthington was watching him from one of those dozen windows. He studied what he could of each glowing pane but caught no sight of blond curls or her big gray-blue eyes. Probably just his imagination or the wish that people—especially women—could be what they seemed at first sight. That was why he wanted to spend his life training horses. A horse didn’t put on airs, put you down or figure they were better than you because of the quality of their possessions.

      “I plan to tell Worthington I want a trial period.” Braden fell alongside, leading both horses by the reins. “I’m not sure about that woman.”

      “She was protecting her daughters.” Akin to the way a mother bear defended her cubs.

      “Sure.” Braden nodded, his jaw tense. “But one thing needs to be made clear to Robert Worthington. I came to work with the animals, not to be nitpicked to death by a lady who has nothing better to do with her time.”

      “You’re still ticked from our last job.”

      “True enough. After those difficult people, we deserve an easier assignment.” Braden shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Not sure if we’re going to get it this time.”

      “No, I don’t think we are.”

      Lord, please let this work out.

      The first outbuilding they came to was a well-built barn with a wide breezeway marching between big box stalls. Several horses poked their noses out into the aisle to nicker a welcome to an old friend and to greet new ones. Hobo sidestepped, head up, cautious as he looked around.

      “Whoa there, buddy.” He left the old mare standing to lay a hand of comfort on his boy’s neck. Snow tumbled from his black mane.

      Best to get these horses rubbed down, dry and stabled and no sense in hurrying. His stomach might be rumbling, but he wasn’t looking forward to heading up to the main house to eat. Meredith would be there. That made his gut clench tighter.

      Maybe it would be best to avoid her, he decided, if that could be possible as long as he had a job here. That young woman had as good as lied to him. He’d had enough people in his life being less than honest, and he wasn’t looking for more of the same.

      “Ho there.” A man about his same age with a friendly grin and a trustworthy look hiked down the main aisle. “I’m Eli Sims. You must be the new trainers. Good to meet you. Let me lend a hand with your horses.”

      Braden stepped forward to ask a few details about Mr. Worthington, as Shane knelt to uncinch saddles and unhook harnessing. He kept half an ear to their conversation but couldn’t seem to concentrate. At least he hadn’t been fooled by her for long. Not that the not-so-country girl was on his mind. He was doing his best to purge every thought and image of her from his brain.

      Whether or not he was successful was another question entirely.

      Meredith couldn’t forget the look on Shane’s face when Mama had spoken down to him, which was by her guess the exact moment he realized she was not the country miss he’d assumed her to be.

      Did he hate her? Was he the kind of man who would understand? She hadn’t meant to mislead him. Was her parentage her fault? Hardly. They lived in the country, so she technically was a country girl. It wasn’t a lie she had let him believe, but she hadn’t corrected him.

      She regretted that now. She stared out her bedroom window instead of at the history book open on the desk. She could not concentrate and let her gaze wander over the roll of high prairie and the rugged Rocky Mountains hugging the horizon. Sunset dusted the snow-capped, craggy peaks with dabs of mauve and streaks of purple.

      “Meredith.” Matilda, her older sister, poked her head around the door frame. “Mama wanted me to come fetch you. Dinner is about to be served.”

      “Dinner.” She was not in the mood. “I don’t suppose I can have a tray sent up here?”

      “Mama is mad enough as it is. I wouldn’t ask if I were you.” Sympathy softened Tilly’s features, making her almost pretty in the lamplight.

      If only a fine beau could see Matilda as her sisters did, with a beauty of spirit, a sweetness of temperament and a generous soul that made her the finest catch in all of Angel County. Men were notoriously shallow, as Meredith had decided, and so dear Tilly was still unmarried and, worse, unbeaued at the age of twenty. Not a single man had come courting, when marriage and a family were all that her sister desired.

      “Then I suppose I’ll survive dinner.” With a wink, Meredith closed her textbook, pushed back her chair and climbed to her feet. The sun was going down on the day and on her hopes. Her one chance to prove herself as a sensible driver to her parents was over. “Do you think it will be the topic of conversation? My big failure as a driver.”

      “You may have to endure a few comments from Mama, but Papa believes a woman should know how to drive,” Tilly encouraged. “Remember how he bought Sweetie for me, so I could be more independent? And that means—”

      “You can drive me,” Meredith finished, reaching out to squeeze her sister’s hand. “The certification exam is coming up. Will you find a way to help me take it?”

      “I’ll drive you there and back myself, even if I have to defy both our parents to do it.” Voices at a whisper, they meandered down the long stretch of hallway. “There is always the hope that the new horseman will be as helpful as Eli has been.”

      Eli was a gem and while it was a boon to him that he was joining his brother’s teaming business, she seriously doubted that Shane Connelly was going to go out of his way to help her. The disbelief on his face flashed back to her as they’d stood in the falling snow.

      Would he understand, especially after the way Mama had treated him?

      She hoped so. There had been a spark of something between them on the ride home. She shivered remembering the warm taffy sensation his nearness had brought her. She was still dazzled by his dimpled smile, the snapping connection when their gazes met and the tender touch of the rough and rugged man.

      “I hadn’t realized Papa hired two horse trainers.” Matilda’s comment echoed in the stairway as they descended to the main floor. “Minnie says the older one is a little scary.”

      “Not scary exactly, just distant and in charge.” In truth she hardly had an impression of the older horseman. Shane had so dominated her senses at the time that no one else could matter. She could not tear his image from her thoughts, and her gaze shot to the windows hoping to catch a single sighting of him.

      “Girls, there you are.” Mama bustled toward them, skirts swishing, floorboards shaking, cups rattling in their saucers on the dining-room table. “Hurry. We are waiting the meal on you.”

      “Sorry. I was lost in my studying.” And wondering about the new horse trainer, but she kept that to herself. She felt Tilly’s hand on hers give an encouraging squeeze. Glad she wasn’t alone, she headed toward her chair. Papa and Minnie