Whitefeather's Woman by Deborah Hale Page B

Upstanding citizen. Not as young as he used to be, but still a fine figure of a man. I don’t know but Jane might be all the better for an older husband.”
    John kept his eyes on the glass he was drying. Amos Carlton? The hotel proprietor was easily old enough to be Jane’s father. Not to mention fastidious to the point of being prissy. John had often wondered what drew a man like Amos to the Montana frontier.
    But Amos did have a nice house and plenty of hired help. Jane wouldn’t have to work as hard as she did around Ruth and Caleb’s place. Amos was a soft-spoken man, too. If he took a fancy to Jane, John didn’t doubt he’d treat her like a queen and defer to her the way he had to his late wife. Perhaps not demand too much from her in the bedroom.
    John privately wondered if fears about the marriage bed might account for Jane’s reaction to the suitors Ruth had been throwing at her head.
    â€œAmos Carlton wouldn’t have been my first pick.” Ruth stared off into space, nodding her head slowly. “But the better I get to know Jane, the more I think he might be just the man for her. Let’s not waste any time, then. We can take Jane into town for dinner at the Carlton Hotel.Caleb, you have a word with Amos beforehand, coax him to be Jane’s escort to Brock and Abby’s housewarming party.”
    Caleb held up his hand. “Hold your horses, now. If we fix Jane up with Amos and she carries on like she has with the last three, it’ll be time to throw in our hand. That gal is just a bundle of nerves around strangers. Do you suppose we could slip her a nip of spirits before the party to calm her down?”
    â€œIs whiskey your answer to everything?” Ruth flashed her husband a wry grin as she handed him another wet plate.
    â€œNo.” He leaned over and whispered something in her ear that made Ruth laugh and pretend to swat him.
    As John watched the two of them carrying on, he felt like a starving dog peering in a butcher’s window. Picking up a stack of plates and saucers, he carried them into the dining room to put away in the sideboard.
    He returned to the kitchen just in time to hear Ruth say, “You’re right about one thing. We have to find some way to calm Jane down around strangers, or Amos’ll never be able to court her, let alone propose. I declare that girl’s as skittish as a mustang filly.”
    The kitchen went quiet.
    John glanced at his sister, only to find her watching him the way a hawk would watch a prairie dog hole.
    â€œWhat did I do?”
    A slow smile spread across Ruth’s face. It made the hairs on the back of John’s neck rise.
    â€œIt’s not what you’ve done, hestatanemo. It’s what you’re going to do.”
    â€œOoh, and what’s that, exactly?”
    â€œYou’re going to gentle our nervous little filly so Amos Carlton will stand a chance with her.”
    Â 
    If Jane hadn’t known better, she would have sworn John Whitefeather was nervous.
    The big ranch kitchen was empty but for the two of them. Zeke had gone off to do his chores, and Ruth was upstairs giving the baby a bath while Jane fixed supper. John had ambled in a few minutes earlier, looking mysteriously shamefaced, then proceeded to pour himself a cup of coffee.
    Ever since that night John had carried her up to bed, Jane had found herself more awkward than ever around him. He’d never mentioned those moments of chaste intimacy they’d shared, nor had he made any move to touch her since. Jane was beginning to wonder if she’d dreamed it all. Certainly she’d relived it in her dreams often enough in the past two weeks.
    The silence in the kitchen grew oppressive. Jane cleared her throat. “Looks like rain. I’m glad Ruth and I retrieved the laundry from the clothesline.”
    â€œA few drops maybe.” John avoided her eyes, staring instead into his coffee cup as if he could