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  The western view from the window was beautiful, more so since it included the five acres that Gideon had gifted her for her service to them as well as a guilt offering. “I should never have agreed to accept the land,” she whispered.

  Drew’s brows drew together. “Why the devil not?”

  “Gideon had no need to rectify whatever injustice he believes his brother dealt me. I came to White Pines to be a bride. Should I have truly wished that end, I have had more than enough opportunities for matrimony from many of the men in and near town.”

  His frown eased. “That you have, but nonetheless you accepted the land. It pleased Gideon for you to have it.” He lifted her hand and brushed a kiss on her knuckles. “You have been a gift, dear Kayla. You take very good care of us, and his conscience will bother him if he doesn’t make recompense for Caleb luring you here under false pretenses.”

  Kayla shrugged off the thought, knowing she could never tell them the whole truth—that she came to White Pines for something other than marrying a man she’d never met. Her life had changed for the better when Sara married Caleb, for Kayla hadn’t been forced to hand her life over to a man. She could be her own woman, not some mail-order bride marrying a stranger. A home of her own would only aid her in that end.

  “The whole affair was nothing more than a comedy of errors,” she insisted. “Caleb wanted a bride, and when Sara arrived, he was convinced she was the one he’d sent for. I bear neither him nor Sara any malice.” A glance back to the lush acres that Gideon would soon deed to her. “Yet I find I crave what Gideon has offered.”

  “You wish a home of your own.” Drew gave her a quick embrace. “You took the land, Kayla. Let us build you a home on it. Perhaps when it is ready, you might wish to accept one of the many proposals of marriage and make a family there.”

  Chapter Two

  Drake ran a brush over Rusty’s rump as he kept a close watch over the three men who were coming down the livery’s aisle. The first was Earl. Dressed in his typically patched and worn clothing, his skinny frame all but disappeared if the man turned sideways. The other two gentlemen, Drake didn’t know, although he’d seen them before.

  White Pines was such a small town. Unlike other railroad stops, it never grew by leaps and bounds. Instead, the same families had lived there for generations—would probably still be there long after the territory became a state. Perhaps that was why Drake was sticking around. Because that sort of home appealed to him.

  That, and he was as poor as a preacher without a flock.

  One of the other men was close to his own age and walked as though he’d spent a lot of time in the saddle. Dressed like it, too. The other was a dandy—far too fancy a man to ever hang around a barn. An extravagant suit, right down to one of those stuffy neck ties, which was white as snow. No, this man hadn’t mucked out a stall in his whole life. Hell, he’d probably never even stepped in manure without pitching a hissy fit.

  So why was Earl leading them Drake’s way? And why in the devil was he carrying the pieces of the model Drake had broken the night before?

  Rusty sidestepped into him, the horse nervous at having strangers approach. Drake nudged back with his shoulder and continued his chores. “What can I do for you gentlemen?” he asked when they stopped to stare at him.

  Earl was the one to answer him. “They be wantin’ to know about this.” He dropped the pieces of the model onto one of the tack trunks.

  “Why?” No one had ever been remotely interested in the things he’d built. Even more perplexing was that this one was broken, probably beyond repair.

  Instead of giving a reply, the younger man nodded at Rusty. “Fine-lookin’ animal.” He stroked the horse’s muzzle, and damn if the normally skittish Rusty didn’t allow the attention.

  Drake’s hackles rose. “He’s not for sale.”

  “Didn’t ask,” the man said with an easy smile.

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Came to speak to Earl.” The man stuck out his gloved hand, quickly snatched it back to remove his weathered glove, and then offered his hand to Drake again. “We ain’t met. I’m Ty Bishop.” He inclined his head at the dandy. “This is Drew Pearson.”

  Drake recognized their names. Both had been entangled in the drama surrounding his coming to White Pines. “Drake Myers.”

  The dandy stroked his chin with this finger and thumb. “Ah, the illustrious Mr. Myers. Our paths should have crossed months ago, yet I find this is our first face-to-face meeting. I believe you followed our Sara to this fair town.”

  So that was where Drake had heard Drew’s name. From Sara.

  The thief who’d destroyed his life.

  Damn, but he wanted to find forgiveness for her. The circumstances of his existence now wouldn’t allow him that luxury. Had she not snatched the payroll he’d been holding, he would still be working his way up the hierarchy of the cattle company.

  Instead, he was stuck in the middle of Montana without two bits to rub together.

  And it was all her fault.

  He saw no reason to respond to Drew’s statement, so he finished brushing Rusty, tossed the worn brush at the tack trunk, and led his horse back into the stall.

  “They be wantin’ a builder,” Earl said as Drake closed and latched the stall door.

  Taking a piece of wire he’d prepared, he twisted it around the gate and the post.

  “Got an escape artist?” Ty asked with a note of humor in his tone.

  Drake nodded, pleased that there was a man here who spoke the same language. “Not a gate in the world he can’t open.”

  A grin filled Ty’s face. “Got me a mare like that. No matter what I do, still find her grazing on the front lawn most every damn day.”

  Had he not felt as if the weight of the world resting on his shoulder, Drake might have smiled in return. “They can be pretty clever animals when they wanna be.”

  “Are you capable of building that home in real life?” Drew asked, nodding at the model.

  What an odd question. “I s’pose so,” Drake replied. “Built a barn or two in my day. Only helped on one house, though.”

  “Why’d you build this?” Ty asked, running his fingers over the line of the wrecked model’s roof.

  Drake shrugged, not about to open his thoughts to these men. He knew nothing about them beyond their connection to Sara, and that certainly wasn’t a point in their favor.

  Ty’s gaze shifted to Drew. “Looks familiar.”

  “I agree,” Drew replied before turning back to Drake. “Would you please answer Ty’s question? Are you capable of building this home?” He fished in his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of parchment.

  “Why would you wanna know?” Were these men thinking he was a carpenter? What other reason could they be asking such strange questions?

  “We’re searching for a builder,” Drew replied. “Thus far, our search has been fruitless.”

  “No one in this whole town can build a house?” Drake couldn’t stop the incredulous tone of his voice.

  “Oh, there may be many who can,” Drew said. “Unfortunately, we have discovered most won’t.” Unfolding the paper, Drew held it out to Drake. “This is exactly what we want.”

  Drake looked at the picture, startled at the nearly perfect rendering of the model he’d made. “Who drew this?”

  “The woman who will live in the house.”

  “How did she...?” None of this made any sense. Drake swept his free hand at the broken model. “How did you even find this?”

  Ty was the one to reply. “We were askin’ Earl about a man who did some work on his roof, hopin’ he might be a builder. Saw this resting on top of the firewood pile. Was mighty impressed, especially since it looked so much like the one Kayla—er, Miss Backer drew.”

  Kayla Backer. An uncommon name, and one Drake could have sworn he’d heard before. “Why’s she drawing a house?”

  “It’s the house she wishes to live in,” Drew replied.

&nb
sp; “Why can’t her husband build it?”

  “She’s single,” Ty replied. “Wants the house for herself.”

  A single woman? In Montana?

  Hell’s fire, the woman must be as ugly as a donkey.

  But even that shouldn’t have discouraged the lonely men of White Pines. Some were desperate for feminine companionship. He was aware of the town gossip that Drew and Gideon had no intention of taking brides, so he wondered if they kept her around to help her out since no one else wanted her.

  Drew pulled Drake back into the conversation. “A shame to waste such a creation as kindling.” His gaze found Drake’s. “If you are capable of building this home—a true-to-life-size version of this home for Miss Backer—we would like to discuss employing you to do exactly that.”

  Earl jumped in where he wasn’t welcome. “He be owin’ me money. His first pay comes to me.” Emphasizing his point, he thumped his chest with his thumb.

  “Ah, yes. Important things first,” Drew drawled with just the right amount of scolding to make Drake consider grinning. “We will be happy to settle Mr. Myers debt should he accept our offer.”

  “How far is it to where you want this built?” Drake asked. If they offered him a fair salary, he would consider building the damn place. “It’s a bit too late in the year to start, but come spring—”

  “Miss Backer wishes you to begin promptly,” Drew said. “The house will be built on some acres we’ve given her as her own... homestead, you might say.”

  “Winter will set in and—”

  Once again, Drew cut him off. “Should you complete the frame and the roof promptly, the remainder could easily be built in the less hospitable months.”

  Drake shook his head. “I won’t make my horse trudge through the types of snow we get out here to get to the site.”

  At least that statement gave Drew pause.

  However, Earl, looking a bit giddy, had something to say. “He could live at yer place. Then he ain’t gonna be needin’ one of my rooms no more.”

  Seemed Earl was as anxious to get rid of Drake as Drake was to leave Earl’s company.

  Ty paused as though deep in thought. “Could close himself off the loft in the barn. Might make a cozy place to stay while he works.” He focused a hard stare at Earl. “He won’t be troublin’ you then.”

  “You or your damnable bedbugs,” Drake added, happy to see Earl sputter at the insult. “If I could live in the barn, and if Rusty won’t have to trek through blizzards, then I’ll build Kayla Backer her house.”

  * * *

  Kayla put her hands on her hips and glared at Drew. Her thoughts were tumbling and turning, and her anger couldn’t seem to find the right words to let him know exactly how ridiculous it was to even consider having Drake Myers build her home.

  “You seem angry, my dear,” Drew said as he laid his gloves on the table.

  The words finally came. “Sara is my friend, Drew. You simply cannot believe I would wish to spend time with a man who...who...wronged her so.”

  “Wronged her?” Ty said as he strode into the house, obviously hearing what they’d been saying. He held the door as his wife, Cassie, followed him in.

  Drew helped Cassie remove her coat, but he kept up the topic. “You know I love Sara like a sister, but it would seem to me that she wronged Drake.”

  After Cassie gave Kayla a kiss on the cheek, she whirled to Drew, her pretty brown braid flying with the motion. “Sara merely did what she had to do to survive. You should not be criticizing her so. I also believe she returned whatever money she borrowed from Mr. Myers.”

  “Borrowed?” Ty snorted, drawing a stern frown from his wife.

  “Then say the same to Kayla,” Drew said in his defense. “She is the one who began this conversation by claiming that Drake Myers in some way hurt our Sara.”

  Her face heating, Kayla tried to clarify, hoping they wouldn’t press her too hard. “I was not referring to the money she might have taken in a time of desperation.”

  As though he enjoyed seeing her so flustered, Drew grinned and pressed on as though he knew what she would say. “Then what exactly did you mean, Kayla, dear?”

  “He... visited her. At that...that... And then they...” She threw up her hands and tried to toss out a different bone for Drew to chew upon. “I shall cease my objections. Drake Myers will be acceptable, should you believe he can do a good job on my home.”

  “Heard something about visitin’. Who visited what?” Gideon asked after he came in through the same door Drew, Ty, and Cassie had used.

  With a mischievous smile, Drew replied, “I believe our Kayla is a bit concerned that Drake Myers has been to visit women who work in brothels.”

  Kayla felt as if her cheeks were on fire. “Must we speak of this?”

  Ty burst out laughing. “When you say ‘women,’ you don’t know how right you are. Heard he tried to take two to bed at Madame Marie’s place and got tossed out on his drunken ass.”

  A gasp ripped from Cassie as she placed her hand over her husband’s mouth. “Ty! You mustn’t speak of such things with ladies present.”

  Even though he nodded, his brown eyes were full of the sharp humor Kayla normally enjoyed. In her months in White Pines, she’d grown close to Cassie and Ty Bishop. They’d embraced her as though she were a sister, and when Sara and Caleb Young joined them, everyone had a marvelous evening of stories, charades, or cards. Sometimes, the five of them simply shared a meal and comfortable conversation.

  Should Drake come to the farm to build her home, Kayla had no doubt that she would only be able to see her friends by going to them for a visit. Sara would never come while he was around, nor would Kayla wish to put her friend through that kind of odd reunion.

  After the men stopped chuckling, Cassie finally removed her hand from her husband’s mouth, but not before Ty grabbed it back and quickly kissed her palm.

  Dropping her gaze to the floor, Kayla swallowed the heartache such an intimate and loving gesture caused. Both Ty and Caleb were openly affectionate with their wives, and Cassie and Sara returned that affection wholeheartedly. Although she genuinely loved her friends, Kayla admitted—if only to herself—she longed for a husband she could make a home with. A man she could love.

  A future that could never be since the right man had been taken away from her.

  “What’s this?” A crooked finger under her chin, Drew raised her head so he could look in her eyes. “Are you sad, Kayla dear? What brought a frown to your pretty mouth?”

  Shaking her head to move his hand away, she said, “Just a fleeting thought, no more.”

  “Then it’s settled,” he announced. “Mr. Myers shall come to begin work tomorrow. That way Gideon and I will have a few days to get him settled in the barn loft and be sure he has all the supplies he needs before we leave for Missoula.”

  “There are some things we have yet to consider,” Kayla pointed out. “I will remind you that my living out here with Mr. Myers and no chaperone will make us fodder for gossip.”

  “Hell, Kayla,” Ty said. “He’s already every gossip’s favorite subject.”

  Cassie let out a little laugh. “Ty’s right. But then again, you and I have never cared what the busybodies of White Pines think of us. For that matter, neither does Sara. I often consider that the basis of our wonderful friendship.” She offered Kayla a comforting smile. “Let the man come. Let him build you a home. I shall be sure Sara understands that we mean her no offense by hiring him.”

  Kayla tried one more tack. “I’ve yet to hear what makes you so convinced he is capable of the task.”

  With a hand on her shoulder, Drew said, “I’ve seen what he can do. Trust me, Kayla. He can do this for you. If you’ll let him.”

  Although she still wasn’t convinced it was a wise idea, Kayla nodded. She desperately wanted a home of her own, and if that meant dealing with a man she could never respect—a man who frequented brothels and, if the talk around town was to be believed, often dran
k far more than he should—she would do so.

  And once her house was done, she would never have to see Drake Myers again.

  Chapter Three

  The ride to Gideon Young’s farm was a treat for Drake’s eyes. He’d spent most of his time in the territory in and around White Pines, so he’d had little opportunity to take in the beauty of Montana. Mountains to his left; meadows to his right. No doubt they’d be full of buttercups and chicories come spring. Fresh air filled his lungs, and the sounds of birds cheered his spirit. His horse moved in an easy, smooth lope, and Drake rode far enough behind the wagon Gideon drove to avoid the rocks and tufts of mud that were often tossed his way by wheels and hooves. The whole package made for an enjoyable afternoon.

  Until he thought about the task that lay ahead.

  Although he loved to work with his hands, he was still worried that he couldn’t give Drew and Gideon exactly what they wanted. They’d explained quite a bit of the situation after they’d offered him this job, including a welcome explanation that Ty and Caleb Young would be there from time to time to help him with the framing—a task requiring at least two or three men. Once Gideon returned, he’d work side-by-side with Drake.

  He’d accepted their proposal, grateful to be away from the confinement of the boarding house and the rebuking eyes of many of the townsfolk. Yet he worried at his fate being held in the slender hands of a woman who was clearly unpleasant. A bossy bundle of goods, if he’d understood all the men had told him about her demands.

  He’d seen her a few times when she’d come to town. Kayla Backer was far too prim and proper to suit him. Her starched blouse was always buttoned to the throat, gloves covered her hands, and she seemed inclined to keep her nose in the air with everyone she met. She spoke to few people, keeping her own company rather than spending time in conversation.

  He might not have been properly introduced to her, but he’d listened to whispers. No man had been able to convince her to marry. The many eager males inclined to woo her were quickly turned away. The fact she lived with two single men, even if there were rumors about those men and their relationship as well, made him speculate at what made her so undesirable.