Montana Legend (Harlequin Historical, No. 624) by Jillian Hart Page B

the yard.
    Please, let there be a good job for me. For us. It mattered so much. In truth, living with the Owenses was wearing her down. And if Ella kept growing stronger, then moving out was a possibility.
    As Sarah gripped the hoe’s smooth handle and dug it into the gnarled tangle of bean vines and weeds, she couldn’t help imagining—just a little.
    A little house with a big window in the kitchen, like the one Gage was building. Where she could mix rolls or knead bread and get a good dose of sunshine. Where she’d be able to watch Ella ride her very own pony through the fields.
    Dreams. They kept her going. Even when she noticed a dark spot on the awakening prairie—Milt. He was driving the plow, and raised his arm to lash the whip. The horses leaped forward, and her stomach clenched as she realized Milt was watching her. Or rather, keeping an eye on Gage’s property.
    Feeling uneasy, Sarah cleared the plot of vines, weeds and half-rotted stems. Didn’t look as though old man Buchanan had bothered to put in a garden for the last year or so. Frost has pushed a few rocks to the surface and she cleared those, too, whenever her hoe struck them.
    That made the work harder, but she didn’t mind. She’d get the earth nice and soft and ready for planting. Maybe Lucy would want a long row of carrots planted right here, so she could pluck them sweet and juicy from the ground during the summer. Or a stand of corn—
    A jangling harness and the clomp of hooves on hard-packed earth announced Gage’s arrival. There hewas, looking more fine than any man had the right to, perched on the wagon seat. His hat at a jaunty angle. His spine straight, his jaw set. What a fine man he was.
    Too bad he was all wrong for her. Completely, utterly wrong.
    â€œHowdy, there.” He didn’t sound pleased to see her.
    Well, she wasn’t pleased to see him. Remembering the hotel, fresh resolve swept over her so it was easy not to look at him as she gouged the blade into the stubborn ground. For Lucy and Ella’s sakes, she would not be rude.
    She would not let her anger show. “Good afternoon, Mr. Gatlin. How was school today, Lucy?”
    â€œI’m the new girl all over again.” There was a thud as she landed nimbly and skipped away from the wagon. “Ella! Wanna help me brush Scout?”
    â€œSure!” Pure delight in that word.
    The girls scampered off together, already talking a mile a minute.
    And leaving her alone with Gage. He was unhitching the horse without saying a word. Kept his back to her. Didn’t look at her. He had to be remembering their almost-kiss. Did he regret it, too?
    Her hoe struck a rock with a clink, sending a ricocheting pain up her arm. She could feel Gage’s gaze on her, so she kept her back to him as she knelt for the offending rock—
    His wide fingers curled around the stone and gave it a toss. “I know why you’re doing this. It isn’t necessary. It’s my land. If I want a garden—”
    â€œJust returning the favor.”
    â€œRepaying a debt, you mean. I don’t like it.”
    â€œI don’t care what you like. I’m furrowing your garden and then I’m done with you. For good.”
    â€œThat’s a mighty shame.” He straightened, sweeping off his hat so the wind caressed those thick tousled locks and the sun burnished his perfect smile. “I was counting on you for a friend, Sarah. A man like me doesn’t get the chance for too many of those.”
    â€œWhy is that?” She hurled the hoe into the earth, refusing to let his good-natured words whittle away at her fury. “Because you’re so incredibly disagreeable?”
    â€œPartly. Moving around hasn’t helped.” He thought he was so irresistible with the way he agreed so easily.
    He didn’t fool her for a second.
    â€œPlus, I’m a scoundrel of the worst sort. I ought to know better than to try to