“I accept your terms, son. But if I’m only getting half a day’s work out of you, it had better be good, hard work.”
“I’ve never been a shirker. That’s not about to change.” He would work harder than ever before, if it meant gaining Pa’s respect. Perhaps Coralee might even be persuaded to see him as more than a disloyal fortune seeker, too.
The rap on the front door couldn’t have come at a worse time. Coralee juggled the stack of soiled bedding on one arm and a pail of dirty dishes over the other and made her way down the stairs with slow, careful steps. All they needed now was for her to take a tumble and be put out of commission with a twisted ankle.
Whoever was at the door repeated the summons.
“Hold your horses,” she muttered under her breath. “I’m coming!” she called.
She reached the entryway, managed to turn the latch, and opened the door. “Houston!”
The pail crashed to the floor, followed by the breaking of glass, and the armload of laundry fell at his feet.
Concern shone in his bright blue eyes. “Are you all right?”
She nodded.
“What are you doing dealing with such things anyway? Why didn’t you ask Sally?”
“She’s busy helping Daddy.”
“Let me get them for you.” He stooped to pick up the soiled bedding and grabbed the handle of the bucket filled with broken dishes.
“Please don’t.” She wasn’t about to let him carry the foul-smelling load.
“Don’t what?”
Don’t be so caring. Don’t confuse me. “Don’t feel like you have to help.”
He shook his head. “I’m going be spending a good deal of time around here, Corrie, so you might as well get used to having my help. Now, where would you like these?” He lifted one arm and then the other.
“Spending time here? What do you mean?”
“Calvin asked me to find someone to help him run the ranch while he’s laid up, and I did. Me.”
“No. You’re not…” He wasn’t at all the person she’d expected to take her brother’s place, but she had asked the Lord for a man who could handle the record keeping. That, more than anything else, seemed to be on Calvin’s mind. He’d been mumbling about his ledgers in his sleep. Since Houston had run a successful business out in California, he should be well-versed in such things. “Fine. If my brother accepts your offer, I suppose I have no choice.”
“I appreciate the warm welcome.” His smile had a hint of merriment about it, as though he found her amusing. “I’ll just take these things to the kitchen then.” He set off.
She hurried after him, her mind and stomach whirling at the prospect of having Houston around. How would she handle seeing him every day? Their first encounter had been hard enough. He’d looked good in his Sunday clothes, but he was even more appealing in his ranch wear. His broad shoulders and muscular arms did a fine job of filling out his work shirt. She tore her gaze away from him.
He greeted Olive, who rushed over to relieve him of his load. “Welcome, Mr. Houston. This is a surprise. If I’d known company was coming, I’d have made something special. All I have are some snickerdoodles. You’re welcome to them.” The Culpeppers’ longtime cook, her arms filled with the laundry, leaned her head toward the plate of cookies on the table.
“I’m actually going to be working here until Calvin is back on his feet, unless he objects, of course.”
That wasn’t likely. Her brother’s sole concern since his run-in with Toro was the ranch.
“So you’ll be dining here?” Olive sent Coralee a questioning look.
The sooner she accepted the situation, the better. She needed to get back upstairs. Sally could use her help with Daddy. “Yes, he will. How many meals a day should we plan on, Houston?”
“I’ll be here for lunch and dinner, but I’ll have breakfast at El Regalo.”
“Very well. Olive will see that there’s plenty to eat. Now, if you’ll follow me, I’ll tell Calvin you’re here.”
Houston said nothing on the way up the stairs, which suited her. She’d fielded a number of changes since yesterday and taken them in stride, but this one unsettled her. How was she to deal with having him around when he looked so handsome and was being so helpful? She couldn’t let those things sway her.
They reached Calvin’s room. At her brother’s request, she showed Houston inside. “Close the door on your way out, will you, sis?”
Clearly, she wasn’t to be a party to this discussion, which was just as well. The less time she spent with Houston, the better.
She paused, listening to the rumble of male voices. Her brother’s was softer than usual, but Houston’s had a deep, rich quality. Not that she could make out what either of them was saying. That wasn’t a problem. She wasn’t one to eavesdrop. But was that her name she’d heard?
A sound from her father’s room sent her scurrying. She hurried to his bedside.
Sally’s back was to the door. She held one of Daddy’s arms, putting it through the exercises. “Was that Mr. Houston I heard?” Wariness creased the maid’s brow.
“Yes. He’s going to be helping out.”