Coming Up Roses (3 page)

All things considered, Zach thought his opening was as good as any and neighborly. Kathryn Blakely didn't seem to share the sentiment. Still bent sideways, she held the broom as if she intended to thump him a good one if he got too close.

Zach shuffled his boots and then remembered his manners enough to take off his hat. He no sooner did than he recalled the stir his hair was probably in and clapped the hat back on, backward and cockeyed. He gave it a jerk to put it right and cleared his throat, which made Kathryn Blakely start.

Zach couldn't figure out what her problem was. He knew he wasn't very pretty to look at, but he had never scared anybody speechless. For the second time in less than ten minutes, he found himself trying to look at things from someone else's perspective, first from Nosy's, and now from Kathryn Blakely's. And damned if it hadn't been easier to think like a dog.

He guessed she must be uneasy because her farm was isolated and he was a stranger. A large stranger, by her measuring stick. She wasn't much bigger than a minute, and he stood a head taller and a good measure broader than most men.

"I'm Zachariah McGovern, your new neighbor," he tried.

She brought the broom up a tad higher. So much for polite introductions. Zach glanced around, not quite sure why. A mutual acquaintance wasn't likely to appear out of thin air to introduce them properly.

He jabbed a thumb toward his place. "That's my spread over yonder."

She didn't look in the direction he pointed.

"I've been meaning to mosey over before this, but the work has kept me too busy." He eyed her tangled hair. "If you'll set that broom down, I'll get you loose from there." Her knuckles whitened as she tightened her grip.

Zach decided that he'd live through it if she tried to lop his head off. Slowly so as not to frighten her, he moved in. "You're in a fine fix. Let me see what I can do to get you untangled, hm?"

She jerked when he settled his hands on her hair. The splay of his long fingers could easily encompass her head, which gave him a better idea of how she must be feeling. She and the child were alone out here, and in these parts, a wise woman probably greeted strangers with a well-primed shotgun.

She smelled like vanilla and cinnamon, not exactly an intoxicating perfume, but mighty appealing to Zach, who thought of apple pie covered with dollops of fresh whipped cream. Good enough to eat, that was how she smelled. And her hair felt as soft as corn silk. He hated to jerk on it for fear it might tear, not to mention sting her scalp. He grasped her narrow shoulders to turn her slightly and felt the tension in her body. Coiled to run. He had a good mind to leave her tethered. Odds were a hundred to one that he'd never get another chance to get acquainted with her.

Something hit the back of Zach's legs. He glanced over his shoulder to discover that Nosy, out from under his master's evil eye, had resumed his excavations and was sending dirt flying. "Leave off, Nosy!" Zach roared.

At the sound, Kathryn Blakely tried to leap away, only to he brought up short by the rose branch. Zach saw involuntary tears spring to her eyes and felt bad about startling her into hurting herself.

"Mrs. Blakely, if you don't relax, you'll be balder than a peeled turnip by the time I get you loose."

"It's a little difficult to relax when my hair is being pulled out by the roots and my garden is being destroyed."

Zach liked the sound of her voice, even in anger. It put him in mind of warm honey on buttered biscuits.

Realizing that this was at least the third time in as many minutes that he had drawn a comparison between her and food, he had cause to wonder if he was hungry. "I'll save your hair if you'll hold still, and I'll repair the damage to your rose garden."

"If you'll just untangle me, I can tend the roses myself, thank you."

Even with her neck in a crimp, she managed a stubborn lift of her chin. Zach bit back a smile. "That wouldn't be neighborly of me. My dog did the damage. It's only right that I fix it." As he spoke, he set his jaw and gave her braid a sharp tug. "There."

Free of the thorns and him, she sidled away, one hand clamped to her smarting head, the other still gripping the broom. Zach eyed the wispy dark curls that had escaped the strictures of her braid and decided she'd be even prettier with her hair loose and soft around her shoulders. Not that she needed much help with her looks.

"Thank you for getting me untangled," she finally said.

She didn't look too grateful. Fact was, Zach suspected her fondest wish was to have him out of her sight. Now that she could stand straight and run if the mood struck, she didn't look quite so frightened. She gave his dusty jeans and chambray work shirt a careful study, then lifted her gaze to his face. After a long moment, she seemed to relax a little, and he guessed that she must have decided he was telling the truth about who he was.

"Is your hoe in the barn?" he asked.

Zach couldn't tell if she was staring at the scars on his cheek, but he felt self-conscious anyway and tugged the brim of his hat farther down.

A muscle at the corner of her mouth twitched, and her chin came up again. "As I said, I'll tend to the damage."

Zach sighed. "Mrs. Blakely—Kathryn, may I call you Kathryn? I'd like to make amends. I feel bad enough as it is. It won't take me ten minutes to fill these holes—"

"Kate."

"Beg pardon?"

"Kate," she repeated. "I go by Kate."

She didn't look like a Kate. The name Kate conjured pictures in Zach's mind of a sturdy woman with broad shoulders and a strong back. Probably because Kate Bracken, the only Kate he had ever known, had stood five foot nine and wore a size ten man's boot. Katie, maybe. Yes, Katie suited her better.

"Look, Mr.…"

"McGovern."

She licked her bottom lip. "Mr. McGovern … as much as I appreciate how you must feel"—she swept a hand toward Nosy—"about the damage your dog has done and all, it really isn't necessary for you to fill in the holes."

She cast a nervous glance at the ground. "Truly, it isn't. In fact, I'd prefer not. My daughter isn't accustomed to strangers, and I—"

A gust of wind broke over the roof of the house and came whistling across the yard to lift her black skirt. Zach got a glimpse of black high-top shoes and white muslin bloomers before she could gather the cotton twill of her skirt close to her slender legs. As the wind eddied around her, she looked toward the house and sniffed. Then a horrified expression crossed her face.

Tossing aside the broom, she dashed for the porch, crying, "My crullers! Oh, lands, I totally forgot them!"

Wondering what in the hell crullers were, Zach watched her fly into the house and disappear. The distinct smell of scorched lard drifted to him. He shot a glare at Nosy. "Damned dog."

Nosy whined and lay down, resting his head on his dirty paws.

Zach picked up the broom and leaned it against the fence. Now that Kathryn Blakely had taken the scent of vanilla and cinnamon away with her, he could smell the light perfume of the blood red roses. With a wry smile, he touched a fingertip to a delicate, silken petal and then glanced at the house. Most fragile and beautiful things had to sprout a few thorns in self-defense, he supposed.

With a shrug, he turned toward the barn, hoping to find a hoe. In short order, he did so and returned to the rose garden, his intention to right the wrong Nosy had done. Before he had executed more than three strokes with the hoe blade, Kathryn Blakely came flying from the house, for all the world as if he were molesting her person.

"I said I'd take care of it," she cried.

Grabbing the hoe, she tried to wrest it from him.

"Kate, I'd like—"

"I really don't care what you'd like! What
I'd
like is to fry up my grandma's cruller recipe in peace, and that's exactly what I intend to do. So, please, take your dog and go home."

Feeling absurd, he let her have the hoe. He'd be damned if he'd stand there fighting her for it. "No hard feelings?"

He knew that was a stupid question. The woman looked angry enough to chew nails and spit out screws. "I'd hate to think Nosy's antics got us off on the wrong foot."

"No hard feelings, I assure you," she replied shakily. "Not toward you or your dog. Just take him home and make certain he doesn't escape his pen again."

Zach had never known anyone to get into such a stir over a little disturbed dirt. He stood there for a moment, gazing down at her. Standing so close, he took the measure of her height next to his shoulder and realized she missed the mark by a good half head. He doubted she'd tip the scales at much over a hundred pounds. He hated to leave her to do extra work that had been caused by his dog, but didn't see as how he had much choice.

He turned toward his horse, then paused to glance back at her. "Maybe one Sunday you and your daughter would enjoy coming for tea." Tea? Where in hell had that come from? He didn't own a teacup and wasn't any too sure he could readily buy one in Roseburg , the only close town.

"Thank you for the invitation, but I'm not much for socializing, I'm afraid. This farm keeps me as busy as yours does you."

At least she was polite when she turned a fellow down. Zach tipped his hat to her. "A pleasure meeting you."

"Likewise." She wiped her hands on her apron and scanned the churned earth around her.

Zach swung up on his horse and whistled for Nosy. As he rode along the road adjacent to the barn, a flash of movement caught his attention, and he turned to see the little girl peering out at him from around the corner of the building. He reined in to smile at her, noting that her fragile features, sable hair, and huge brown eyes made her unmistakably Kate Blakely's daughter.

"Hello," he called.

At the sound of his voice, the little girl gave a startled leap and fled. Zach gazed after her, unsettled by the stark terror he had seen flash across her face. The Blakely females were the most skittish he had ever run across, and that was a fact.

As he rode home, Zach found himself troubled by the memory of the child's frightened expression. Coming up with no explanation, Zach set the problem on a back shelf in his mind. Some people were just odd. Besides, it wasn't his concern. Even though he was her closest neighbor, he doubted he would be seeing much of Kate Blakely. Probably not hide nor hair, if she had her way, which she would. Zach was nothing if not a gentleman.

"Damned dog," he muttered.