‘‘Well, help me find the woman a husband. Preferably one who’s on the move and planning to settle down at least a few states away.’’

‘‘No’’-Cheyenne shook his head-‘‘I don’t have that many enemies. Just let me know if you reconsider shooting her.’’

The rain worsened, ending one of the longest conversations Winter could ever remember having with the man.

Kora pulled the dusty curtain aside and stared out into the rain for the tenth time in less than an hour. The ranch was like a small town made up of a huge bunkhouse, a barn, and several other smaller buildings. The center ground was starting to look like one big mud puddle.

‘‘He ain’t coming back in this storm,’’ Jamie complained as she set the table. ‘‘You might as well stop cooking. If that cowboy you married last night is dumb enough to try to ride home in this rain, he deserves to be struck by lightning.’’

Jamie laughed to herself. ‘‘Knowing that crazy witchin’ luck you have, he probably won’t live any longer than the last husband. You could make a habit of changing from wedding dress to mourning clothes if he’s no heartier than Andrew Adams.’’

‘‘There’s no such kind of luck,’’ Kora corrected her little sister.

‘‘Well, Mother sure used to believe in it. She said she was hated by a witch of a neighbor before you were born. That’s why you’re left-handed and that’s why trouble follows us like a slow-moving cloud. If we ever light one place too long, it’s bound to catch us.’’

‘‘The only thing that followed my birth was yours, and I don’t want to talk about Mr. Adams!’’ Kora snapped. After staying up most of the night cleaning, she was in no mood to be teased. ‘‘He was already wounded when he rode into town in the bottom of that stage.’’ The sooner Andrew Adams was forgotten the better. ‘‘My luck didn’t have anything to do with him dying.’’

‘‘What if it follows us here?’’ Jamie asked.

‘‘Then we’ll move on as we always do,’’ Kora answered quickly. She couldn’t tell Jamie about the tickets Winter had promised because she’d agreed to look to all the world as if they were truly husband and wife until the six months ended.

Jamie faced her sister. ‘‘You did tell Win about how you married Mr. Adams after he died, didn’t you?’’ Jamie turned to two chairs and nodded as if ghosts sat in them. ‘‘Dear Mr. Dead Adams, do you take my sister to be your lawfully wedded wife? What, no answer? That must mean you do.’’

‘‘Stop!’’ Kora tried to sound stern. ‘‘That’s not how it happened.’’

‘‘But you did tell Win how it was?’’ Jamie turned back to her sister. ‘‘About how Andrew came to marry another, but she tossed his proxy in the trash, and you picked it up and answered Adams’s call only after he’d been shot four times and you knew he’d die before dawn? You did tell Win that you didn’t even think of marrying Adams before you saw them lift him off the stage. Then, he didn’t seem so bad.’’

‘‘No!’’ Kora answered. ‘‘I didn’t think it was important. Why would Winter need to know about my first marriage? What difference could it make? It wasn’t a marriage and I knew it. It was just an open door. The only opening we’d had since we left New Orleans.’’

Kora glanced out the window once more. ‘‘I thought we’d be better off up here in the Panhandle where maybe Dan could get over his cough. I never guessed that most of Mr. Adams’s letters about his farm were fiction. I was just looking for a place the three of us could live. I’d do anything it took to keep us from starving, including marrying a dead man.’’

‘‘Well, this man seems very much alive, though his eyes are hard as coal. There’s no love in him, Kora. He’s not the type you should start with when learning about loving. I’d guess the man has a rock for a heart.’’

‘‘He didn’t seem that cold.’’ Kora found him a little frightening simply because he towered over her by a foot. But she saw strength in Winter, not hardness. ‘‘I’m sure he’d understand about Adams if I told him-which I’m not planning to.’’

Jamie shrugged. ‘‘I don’t guess Win probably cares. It was legal after all. Andrew Adams had already signed the proxy before he even reached town and managed to bleed all over everyone. Once there, he was too near dead to care if he was leaving a wife, and he’d said in his letter he had no other family. I guess you did the poor man a favor by volunteering to mourn.’’ Jamie lowered her voice. ‘‘But new husband Winter is bound to notice you’re a virgin, so you’ll have to tell him something. Widows usually know what a man likes, or at least when to be quiet.’’

Kora reddened. ‘‘How could he guess? I know how to kiss. And I know all about the act of mating. It can’t be that much different from animals.’’ Her mother had said once that it was a wife’s duty not to make a fuss about it if Kora was ever lucky enough to find a man who wanted her.

Jamie giggled. ‘‘You might be surprised, big sister. Men can tell if a woman has never lain with a man.’’

Kora didn’t want to have to ask. It was not a subject people talked about, but she couldn’t help herself. ‘‘How?’’

Jamie laughed again. ‘‘Just trust me, they can.’’

Before Kora could ask more, the door flew open with a pop. Thunder seemed to roll in with the storm of men dressed in rain slickers.

She looked up as her new husband raged into the house like an angry warrior. His dark face was brushed with stubble and splattered in mud. He crossed the room in filthy boots without noticing she’d washed the floor. When he saw her, he slowed, his measured gaze sizing up the sight before him as if he’d never seen her before. There was something dark and angry about him, and something more. Something very lonely. Would he understand? she wondered.

Kora fought down the urge to run. Everything about this man spoke of his power, even the way he moved. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he ordered her out of his house and told her the marriage was a mistake.

But he only stared at her with dark searching eyes. Jamie was right, Kora thought, there was an animal wildness about him.

Glancing at Jamie, Kora drew in courage with a long breath. She’d play the part of this man’s wife as best she could. He might be more than she could handle. Or he might explode when he learned she wasn’t what she claimed. But she had to try or she, Jamie, and Dan would likely starve. This was her house if only for a while, and it was time to take control over what he’d given her.

‘‘Breakfast will be ready by the time you wash, sir.’’ Kora tried to keep her voice from shaking. Marrying a dead man was certainly a great deal easier than marrying Winter McQuillen. ‘‘And I’ll thank you to leave your muddy boots on the porch in the future.’’ She guessed he’d respect her more for advancing than if she ran in retreat.

Kora braced herself. If he was going to be the kind of man who hit his wife, she might as well find it out now. There was no use living in fear.

The cowhand at Winter’s left whispered the word wash as though it were a new language and he’d never heard the term before.

Winter straightened slightly, like a general preparing for a battle. The fingers of his gun hand opened and closed as tired muscles fought down anger. No one had spoken to him as she dared since he’d been a child. In the year since he’d taken over the running of the ranch, his word had been law and no one had ever questioned anything he did. Now this tiny woman faced him as if she had an army to back her.

Kora refused to move as he took a slow step toward her. She could see Dan out of the corner of her eye sitting at the kitchen table picking at his breakfast. Her brother wouldn’t even turn to look in her direction if she screamed. He saw no world but his own.

Jamie stepped to Kora’s side protectively, blocking Winter’s path to his wife. ‘‘We moved a washstand up to the third floor, and I hauled water up for you. But don’t bother to thank me, or expect it again.’’ When her new brother-in-law continued to stare at his wife and gave no reaction to her, Jamie looked past him to the others. ‘‘The rest of you can clean up out on the back porch. But don’t take long or the gravy will have to be cut.’’

Winter turned suddenly and took the stairs three at a time without saying a word. Both sisters let out a breath as the rest of the riders followed Jamie to the back porch.

For a moment Kora didn’t know what to do. She felt as if she’d just won a battle in what promised to be a long war. She looked around at the table. Except for the biscuits, everything was ready. Her first day, or night, of marriage had gone quite well. The only problem now was she had a husband.

She smiled to herself. She’d faced him straight-on. Since the day she’d been brave enough to step up and claim to be Andrew Adams’s wife, she’d felt herself growing stronger. Jamie had always been the fighter. But Kora saw something in this man she’d married-a strength, a need. If it took fighting to pull him out, then she’d fight. For in the end, even if she lost, she’d be a stronger person when she left him.

‘‘Watch the bread!’’ she called over her shoulder as she hurried up the stairs. ‘‘I have to talk to Winter for a minute.’’

FIVE


WHEN SHE STEPPED ONTO THE THIRD FLOOR, KORA almost tripped over a pile of muddy clothes. Winter must have stripped as he climbed. Slowly she leaned and picked up the garments, thinking of how tired he’d have to be after riding all night. Maybe she should have just offered to let him sit down to breakfast instead of insisting he wash first.

The sunrise was still shades of purple light, but she could see the outline of Winter as she moved into the attic room. He’d removed all his clothing, except his jeans, and was standing with his back to her. Somehow, leaning over the basin, bare chested and wearing so little, he didn’t seem all that invincible. After placing the clothes in a basket she’d brought up linens in, she stood at the top of the stairs watching him.

Her new bedroom was cluttered with things she and Jamie could carry up, but it still looked more like an attic than a bedroom. Only the man before her seemed to belong in this huge room framed in windows with only miles of sky for curtains.

As she watched, he poured a pitcher of water over his head and scrubbed away the dirt. Water splashed around the washstand, making a plopping sound on the hardwood floor below. Kora let out a cry as moisture spotted the wood, already badly in need of polishing.

Winter’s body stiffened at her outburst. He grabbed a towel and turned to face her. A worried frown darkened his already stormy expression.

When he saw where she stared, he said in a tone more of explanation than apology, ‘‘I’m sorry about the water. I guess I’m used to washing in the tub at the washstand. This little basin is pretty, but it doesn’t hold much. I could scrub up-’’

‘‘I’ll move a larger one up,’’ she whispered more to herself than him. ‘‘And maybe I’ll put a rug beneath the stand.’’

‘‘Don’t go to any trouble.’’ Winter wasn’t sure what to say. She was doing her best to be a wife, but he didn’t know how he was supposed to act. Did he thank her for doing what she thought was her job? Or did he get angry at the way she’d ordered him around downstairs like he was a guest who didn’t know how to act inside the house… Her house, he reminded himself… at least for six months. He’d told her she was the one to set the rules; the least he could do was follow them and not start a war over the first one she laid down. He could clean up before sitting at her table, and he could use the porch like the others from now on. It was foolish to bring water up two flights of stairs when he’d washed outside all his life.

He widened his stance and waited for her to look up. Win knew his voice hadn’t sounded kind, but she should at least realize he was trying. Marriage was probably like getting a new horse; they’d both have some adjusting to do. He watched her, wondering how long it would be before they’d be comfortable with each other. He was a good provider; she seemed to be a hard worker. What more did they need to make the marriage seem real?