Rocky Mountain Wild (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 6) (2 page)

“Yes, thank you, ma’am.”

“Then it’s settled. Come back in a few weeks and show me what you’ve done, and we’ll agree on a price.”

“I will, ma’am. You have my word.”

“Such a lovely, polite girl.” A smile spread over the matronly woman’s face. “I’m glad you took the position with Calum. I think you’ll be good for him.”

Phoebe nodded politely. Mrs. Martin reminded her of her old employer Mrs. Covey—a business woman with all the determination and finesse of a battering ram, but generous in her own way. She vowed silently to finish as many scarves as she could within a month. She was used to working long hours by day and sewing at night, and the extra income would be welcome.

Her fingers itched to take out her shears and begin right away, but she made herself wait. It might offend her main employer, and he was due any minute. Excusing herself, she limped outside and sat on the edge of the porch.

The town wasn’t more than a few buildings arranged around a wide, dusty street. The last house was a white, cheerful residence, with a big barn looming behind. Beyond that—woods, fields and more woods, rising over the foothills, framed by mountains. The whole picture was vast, empty, wild. Just what Phoebe needed: a new land, with a place to call her own.

When Mrs. Covey had found the ad asking for a housekeeper and cook in exchange for a plot of land plus a little pay, Phoebe had almost thought it too good to be true. All her life she’d dreamed of having a place of her own, with a few acres to farm for food and have some produce left by to sell. There was land enough available for anyone who traveled west, but Mrs. Covey thought that a young woman alone should have help of some sort to lean on. Phoebe agreed, though she privately vowed to be as independent as possible. Calum MacDonnell’s offer was the perfect fit; he would be both employer and fellow homesteader, and would pay her a steady wage. With Mrs. Covey’s help, Phoebe answered the ad and was on a stagecoach by the end of summer. Living alone and working the land would be a challenge, but it would be worth it. For the first time in her life, Phoebe would have a home.

Now she only had to impress Mr. MacDonnell.

Across the way, a man strode out of the woods and made for the little store. Not a man, but a giant, big as a bear, clad all in fawn-colored buckskin. He had long sandy hair down to his shoulders and scruffy facial hair. As he drew closer, she saw he was clean about his clothes and person, as if he’d made some effort, but the total effect was still wild.

He was walking straight towards her. Phoebe wondered if she should call for help. The man’s hazel gaze fixed on her, and she felt her heart flutter. The feeling wasn’t unpleasant, and she relaxed as her head tilted back to look up into his face—rugged but well-formed under his bristling beard.

“Mrs. Wilson,” he greeted her in a deep, soft voice.

She wanted to ask how he knew it was her, but guessed it was an easy prediction: she was the only unfamiliar woman around for miles.

“Miss,” she corrected, and stood. She was tall for a woman, but he was taller still, and broad. He dwarfed her. Her new employer—for that’s who it must be—let his eyes rove over her, taking in her slender form, the faded dress that was her best, the secondhand gloves and bonnet Mrs. Covey had gifted when she told the innkeeper she was leaving her employ for a housekeeper position in the west.

Squaring her shoulders, she waited for him to pronounce judgment.

A pause, then his face broke into a grin. Phoebe caught her breath; the smile took the man’s rough features from pleasing to something else entirely. Again, Phoebe felt her heart flutter.

“Pleased to meet you, lass,” he said in a faint Scottish accent. “I’m Calum MacDonnell. Welcome to Colorado.”

Phoebe’s heart beat faster as the big, burly man looked down at her. She’d never seen such a wild creature, or a man with such long hair and unruly beard. He wasn’t even wearing proper clothes, but the fringed leather favored by trappers. And on his feet, not boots, but moccasins.

This was her employer?

“I trust the journey went well?” His voice had a slight burr, and she had to really think hard to understand what he was saying.

“Yes, yes,” she answered after a pause and hoped he didn’t think she was slow. She cleared her throat. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. MacDonnell.”

She was rewarded with a crinkle around his grey eyes. “Pleasure’s all mine, lass. I was going to take you straight back to the cabin, but you look like you need a meal.” His Scottish burr softened his blunt words about her weight.

Suddenly, Phoebe felt very tired, like she’d been pushing a boulder up hill for days and finally reached the top. If only she could lie down and rest in her own space, then face her new employer when she was up to fighting weight. She had to show she was worthy of the position first.

“I’m fine, Mr. MacDonnell.”

He frowned, as if he wanted to argue with her. Her chin came up with the last of her energy.

“I’d like to see my new home.”

“So be it, lass. We’ve got a few miles to go yet. Where are your bags?”

She nodded to the simple sack at her feet. Mrs. Covey had insisted Phoebe take one of her old carpetbags, but in the end Phoebe couldn’t bear the charity. The woman had already given her so much.

If Mr. MacDonnell was surprised about her meager belongings, he said nothing. Instead, he stooped to pick up her bag. She beat him to it, though, and their hands touched. A shock went through her, sending a slight tendril of warmth curling through her.

“I’ve got it,” she said, hoisting the sack over her shoulder to hide her chagrin at the tiny spark that had jumped between them.

He looked at her as if she was a puzzle he couldn’t figure out. She knew what he saw: a skinny young maid in old clothes and old, if sensible, shoes. She was pretty enough, but she’d answered his ad for housekeeper and cook so her looks didn’t matter much. All he would care about was whether she was strong enough to survive out here. She had to prove she was.

She felt like glaring at him, almost fierce. He couldn’t send her back. Not when she was this close to her dream.

“It’s this way, but it’s a bit of a walk,” he said.

“That’s all right.” Her heart sank. She was so tired, and her body was aching, especially her cursed leg.

Shrugging, he started back across the street the way he’d come. Phoebe followed, gritting her teeth as her step jarred her right foot. The oversized shoe on that foot felt heavy and huge. She swung it a little, limping, to keep up with her new employer’s long stride.

Glancing back, he stopped. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” she denied, even as the ache radiated through her entire leg.

“Don’t lie to me, lass.” Her new boss frowned at her, great coarse eyebrows and rugged jaw making him look even more intimidating at his height.

“I’m not lying,” she snapped back. “It’s just my leg. It gets a bit stiff, and it’s been a while since I could properly stretch it.”

Calum MacDonnell glared at her for a long moment, then turned on his foot and marched back to the shop, leaving her in the middle of the dusty street. Fear rose in her as her new employer made a beeline for a stocky man who’d just pulled up outside the shop, reining in a fine pair of horses. Was he done with her, that quickly? She wanted to call after him, but her pride wouldn’t let her.

“Donovan, a word.”

“Mac?” The driver greeted the Scot, even as his gaze focused on Phoebe, coming towards the two men as fast as her limp would let her. Was her new employer rejecting her?

“One moment, lass,” MacDonnell called back her. “I just remembered that Donovan and I have business.” He turned back to the newcomer. “This is Miss Wilson, the housekeeper I was talking about.”

“Pleasure, ma’am,” the man said, tipping his hat.

She nodded, keeping her jaw clenched against the pain. It gave her a haughty air, she knew, but better a cold, proud shell, than friendly. Her pleasing looks seemed to be enticing enough.

“So about that mule.”

“Certainly,” Donovan said. “Mr. Martin took him from me to sell, and hasn’t had any takers. I’ll loan him to you for a fortnight, until you decide.”

“I thank you,” MacDonnell said.

Mr. Donovan nodded and headed behind the shop.

“What’s going on?” Phoebe asked.

“Mr. Donovan trains horses. He got a mule a few seasons back, and I’ve been thinking of buying it.”

She gave a curt nod as Donovan came around the side of a building leading a dusty, grey mule
.

“Here we are. Just let me know whether you’d like to keep him. We’ll happily barter for some smoked bear meat.
Carrie’s quite fond of it.”

“I will let you know.” MacDonnell turned to Phoebe. “All right, lass, up you go.”

“Me?” Phoebe stepped back. “You don’t want to ride it?”

“Don’t like horses, but I need one for a few tasks. With you here, it’ll have more use than pulling a plow. Now, if you’ll do me the favor, go ahead and ride it.”

Phoebe stared in his eyes, but his gaze held steady. She saw no trace of pity, which she would not abide. The mule stood placid and ready between them, a thick blanket over its back. Miles Donovan had already disappeared, and Calum MacDonnell seemed content to wait as long as it took her to decide.

“We’ll get a proper saddle, and I’ll have you do the errands to town. It will save me the time walking back and forth.”

Phoebe pursed her lips. Her new employer made it sound like him buying a mule for her was really for his benefit. She didn’t want charity.

But she was too tired to argue, so she let it pass.

Once she nodded, the big man wasted no time picking her up around the waist and setting her on the mule’s back. Her heart quickened at his touch and she frowned, wondering why her body felt this way around her new employer.

Calum took her bag from her, and grasping the mule’s bridle, led the animal to the forest trail. And so Phoebe found herself riding out of town, like she was a lady and her employer was the servant, instead of the other way around.

Leaning down, she rubbed her leg a little, weariness setting in as she relaxed on the animal’s back. She’d done it. The journey had been long, but worth it. She’d hoped for so long, and now her dream was finally true. It wasn’t a very grand dream: to be a housekeeper and cook, in exchange for a small salary and a stake in a plot of land, but it was all hers. The only other person she’d shared her vision with was Mrs. Covey, and it had taken some time before her dear employer understood Phoebe’s desire to make her own way.

“You’re too independent by half. Most women would just marry and settle into working their man’s land.”

“I’ll never marry,” Phoebe had said. “What man would want me?”

Mrs. Covey had scoffed. “If it’s the bum leg you’re talking of, I’ll tell you, most men would look at your face and not look further. But you’re a good girl, Phoebe, and a hard worker.”

Phoebe didn’t say anything to that. She didn’t really want a husband who would want to rut and rule over her. Of course, striking out for the West on her own was dangerous, so she was grateful for her arrangement with Mr. MacDonnell, as long as he kept to the terms. She planned to make her own way as much as possible, and so far everything had fallen into place. There was even a little hut on the land where she could live. Everything sounded perfect.

Tired as she was, Phoebe couldn’t deny the beauty of her new home. Above the town, mountains creased the sky, snow still on the highest peaks that touched the clouds. And then there was her new boss walking alongside her while she rode. She studied him as he led her mount along the trail.

Calum MacDonnell was a tall man, a giant compared to most. Even with her seated on the mule, his head still came up to her chest. He was well over six feet, with broad shoulders besides, but still lean and light on his feet. He looked more like a hunter than a farmer. She could imagine him padding through the woods, tracking his prey in silent moccasins. She wondered what caused him to settle down in a homestead at the foot of the Rockies. He was younger than she expected from the maturity of his letters. It seemed strange to her that he would request a housekeeper when he could simply find a wife. He looked pleasant enough. There was an attractive jawline under his sandy stubble.

When he cleared his throat, Phoebe realized he’d noticed her staring and flushed. She shouldn’t think of her employer as handsome; it was improper. She’d never thought that way about any man before.

“So, what do you think of him?” He nodded to the mule.

Phoebe cast about. The mule was a godsend to her tired leg, but she couldn’t say that. “Serviceable. I think it’s a good purchase. Mr. Donovan seems an honest man.”

“Oh, he is that. He’d cut off his own hand before cheating someone.”

“You didn’t have to buy the mule for me. I would’ve been able to walk.”

“So you said.” Calum shrugged. “It was a convenient time to purchase. I told you, I’ll get more use out of the mule now with you here.” What he didn’t say was that he didn’t buy the mule for her. Feeling oddly gratified, Phoebe still felt like she should protest.

“But—”

“Enough now, lass,” he clucked. “It’s my decision to purchase.”

Phoebe fell silent, even though she wanted to argue. She was grateful for the ride, yes, but she couldn’t let him think she needed extra help. He’d never want her to work for him then.

Her struggle must have shown on her face, because Calum chuckled. “You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?” Before she could answer, he continued. “Begging your pardon. You’re just not what I expected.”

Phoebe swallowed hard. “What did you expect?”

He shrugged. “For starters, you’re younger than I thought you would be. I expected someone older and sturdier. A widow or matron, who wanted to strike out on her own. You’re naught but a wee thing.”

Her spine stiffened. “I’m strong. I can work—”

“I’ve no worries on that end, lass,” Calum interrupted in a soft voice. “And I apologize for my blunt words. Comes from living alone too long. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

Her thoughts swimming over his forthright speech and apology, Phoebe felt a little like crying. Was her position in jeopardy? Did he want her or not?