Maybe he didn't have to go back to Wyoming without one.
Quentin paused at a street corner, waiting for a trolley to go by before venturing off the sidewalk. He didn't know a great deal about Katie McBride, but she seemed to be a girl of sound good sense. Whatever her background, it surely hadn't been one of ease and luxury. She understood the value of hard work, and heaven knew, ranch life provided plenty of that.
She was attractive and seemed intelligent. Knowing how isolated the ranch was, Quentin understood the importance of a woman he could talk to. Heaven forbid he should find himself sharing a house with a woman, miles from the nearest neighbor, only to discover she hadn't a thought in her brain but fashion. Not to mention that such a girl would have little enough to occupy herself.
No, his grandfather had been right in saying that he'd not find a suitable wife among the women of his own class. But Katie McBride was another story. She was not ill-bred. In fact, she seemed more refined than some of his sister's flighty friends.
By the time he stopped outside the scarred door of the room Katie shared with her brother, he'd wavered from one side of the fence to the other without coming to any conclusions.
The building was even shabbier than he remembered. His previous visits had been after dark, when the lack of light had helped to mask some of its seedier attributes. He'd narrowly avoided a fall when his shoe caught in the torn carpet and the woodwork showed the scars of too many careless bumps over the years, leaving splinters in the unwary hand.
He lifted his hand to knock on the door, his nose wrinkling at the scent of onions that drifted down the hall.
He forgot about the onions when the door opened. Katie stood in front of him, her eyes widening with surprise when she saw him. Surprise and not much welcome, he acknowledged ruefully. But then he could hardly blame her. The Sterling family was unlikely to be on her list of welcomed guests.
"Hello." He removed his hat, trying a smile on her.
"Hello, Mr. Sterling." Her eyes seemed to soften a bit but she didn't move back from the door.
"How are you feeling?"
"I took no permanent harm. Thanks to you." Did she add the last grudgingly?
"I told you before that you owed me no thanks."
"I'll not argue it with you." Katie shrugged. She turned her head and the light fell more fully on her face, revealing the dark bruises that covered most of one cheek. Quentin's fingers clenched over his hat, creasing the fine felt. The sight of the bruise made him wish he'd taken time to knock out all of Joseph's teeth.
"May I come in?"
She hesitated a moment before stepping back to allow him to enter the room. "Colin isn't here."
"I promise to behave with the utmost propriety."
"I know you will." This time he was almost sure she smiled. "May I take your things?"
His hat and cane disposed of, Quentin was suddenly at a loss as to what to say. Looking at Katie, all his indecision faded. She'd make a fine wife, strong, hard working, the sort of a woman to stand beside a man. It wouldn't be a love match but then, after Alice's death, there could certainly be no question of that.
Katie seemed a sensible sort but women could be notional. If she wanted flowery speeches, he couldn't give them to her. And of course, there was always the possibility that there was already a man in her life. It was the first time the thought had occurred to him and it was surprisingly unwelcome. He frowned.
Looking at him, Katie wondered what had caused him to look so fierce all of a sudden. It had been quite a surprise to find him standing in the hallway. She'd not expected to see him again. Not after Mrs. Ferriweather had dismissed her because of complaints his mother had made regarding her moral character.
Oh, Mrs. Ferriweather had been apologetic. She hadn't come right out and said so, but Katie had the feeling that she knew the real truth. But as she'd pointed out, Mrs. Sterling was a wealthy
Quentin paused at a street corner, waiting for a trolley to go by before venturing off the sidewalk. He didn't know a great deal about Katie McBride, but she seemed to be a girl of sound good sense. Whatever her background, it surely hadn't been one of ease and luxury. She understood the value of hard work, and heaven knew, ranch life provided plenty of that.
She was attractive and seemed intelligent. Knowing how isolated the ranch was, Quentin understood the importance of a woman he could talk to. Heaven forbid he should find himself sharing a house with a woman, miles from the nearest neighbor, only to discover she hadn't a thought in her brain but fashion. Not to mention that such a girl would have little enough to occupy herself.
No, his grandfather had been right in saying that he'd not find a suitable wife among the women of his own class. But Katie McBride was another story. She was not ill-bred. In fact, she seemed more refined than some of his sister's flighty friends.
By the time he stopped outside the scarred door of the room Katie shared with her brother, he'd wavered from one side of the fence to the other without coming to any conclusions.
The building was even shabbier than he remembered. His previous visits had been after dark, when the lack of light had helped to mask some of its seedier attributes. He'd narrowly avoided a fall when his shoe caught in the torn carpet and the woodwork showed the scars of too many careless bumps over the years, leaving splinters in the unwary hand.
He lifted his hand to knock on the door, his nose wrinkling at the scent of onions that drifted down the hall.
He forgot about the onions when the door opened. Katie stood in front of him, her eyes widening with surprise when she saw him. Surprise and not much welcome, he acknowledged ruefully. But then he could hardly blame her. The Sterling family was unlikely to be on her list of welcomed guests.
"Hello." He removed his hat, trying a smile on her.
"Hello, Mr. Sterling." Her eyes seemed to soften a bit but she didn't move back from the door.
"How are you feeling?"
"I took no permanent harm. Thanks to you." Did she add the last grudgingly?
"I told you before that you owed me no thanks."
"I'll not argue it with you." Katie shrugged. She turned her head and the light fell more fully on her face, revealing the dark bruises that covered most of one cheek. Quentin's fingers clenched over his hat, creasing the fine felt. The sight of the bruise made him wish he'd taken time to knock out all of Joseph's teeth.
"May I come in?"
She hesitated a moment before stepping back to allow him to enter the room. "Colin isn't here."
"I promise to behave with the utmost propriety."
"I know you will." This time he was almost sure she smiled. "May I take your things?"
His hat and cane disposed of, Quentin was suddenly at a loss as to what to say. Looking at Katie, all his indecision faded. She'd make a fine wife, strong, hard working, the sort of a woman to stand beside a man. It wouldn't be a love match but then, after Alice's death, there could certainly be no question of that.
Katie seemed a sensible sort but women could be notional. If she wanted flowery speeches, he couldn't give them to her. And of course, there was always the possibility that there was already a man in her life. It was the first time the thought had occurred to him and it was surprisingly unwelcome. He frowned.
Looking at him, Katie wondered what had caused him to look so fierce all of a sudden. It had been quite a surprise to find him standing in the hallway. She'd not expected to see him again. Not after Mrs. Ferriweather had dismissed her because of complaints his mother had made regarding her moral character.
Oh, Mrs. Ferriweather had been apologetic. She hadn't come right out and said so, but Katie had the feeling that she knew the real truth. But as she'd pointed out, Mrs. Sterling was a wealthy
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