Dawn Comes Early Read Online Free PDF Page B

house. It provided the only shade Kate had seen since arriving in town, a pleasing sight.
    A brick courtyard was hugged on three sides by the house and protected in front by a low adobe wall. An ornate metal gate stood open and looked surprisingly inviting.
    Mr. Adams helped her down from the wagon, his work-hardened hands strangely comforting around her small waist. Nonetheless, she moved away the moment her feet touched ground and stared at the ranch house. It was larger than she’d imagined, larger even than the grand houses in Boston’s south end, and perfectly maintained.
    She brushed off her skirt, threw back her shoulders, and swallowed hard to brace herself. She hadn’t come all this way to let a few quivering nerves get the best of her.
    Mr. Adams leaned against the wagon with folded arms. “I can take you back to town now, ma’am. It would save you from havin’ to hitch a ride back tomorrow or the next day.”
    It took her a moment to understand his meaning. “Are you saying that I’m not going to make it here?”
    â€œNone of the others have. The longest anyone stayed was a week, but that woman was a workhorse.”
    Irritated that he so easily assumed she’d fail without knowing anything about her, she tossed back her head. He wasn’t the first man to underestimate her, but if she had anything to say about it, he would be the last.
    â€œI won’t be needing a ride back to town, but thank you for your concern.”
    He shrugged. “Suit yourself, ma’am.” He nodded his head toward the back of the wagon. “I’ll bring in your trunk.”
    Something in his voice reminded her that he had been obliged to pick her intimate garments off the street. Blushing, she turned quickly to hide her face and walked to the open gate.
    Knowing he watched, she moved with quick, confident steps that belied her shaking knees, tightly clenched stomach, and dry mouth. Reaching the oversized carved wood door, she tugged on the bellpull with damp hands and glanced back. He stood where she left him, doubt written all over his handsome square face. Gritting her teeth, she gave the bellpull another tug.
    From deep inside came the sound of chimes, and after a short wait, a Mexican girl flung open the door.
    â€œI’m Kate Tenney,” Kate said by way of introduction. “Miss Walker is expecting me.”
    â€œMy name Rosita,” the girl replied in halting English. Kate guessed that she was probably in her late teens. She wore a gray dress and white apron, her black hair tucked beneath a white ruffled cap. “Miz Walker back soon. Hurry, hurry.” She motioned Kate inside and slammed the door shut.
    â€œFlies,” she explained.
    â€œOh.” Relieved at not having to face the ranch owner immediately, Kate glanced around the large entry hall, which was as cool as it was dim. Adobe brick walls, partly covered by a colorful Indian rug, rose from a red tile floor. The house smelled of furniture polish, old wood, brass, and just a hint of freshly baked bread. The bread reminded Kate that she hadn’t had a bite to eat since breakfast, and her stomach growled.
    A sweeping staircase led to the second floor, and Rosita was halfway up before Kate realized she was expected to follow.
    Upon reaching the second-floor landing she couldn’t resist glancing over the polished wood banister to the huge foyer below. Mr. Adams had not yet brought in her trunk. Was he really so certain that she wouldn’t last? That she would quit before she’d even begun?
    Something—a movement, perhaps a shadow—made her lean forward for a better look, but all remained still. Whoever it was had quickly stepped out of sight. No doubt a curious resident or employee.
    Rosita led her down a long narrow hall past a small room with a toilet but no tub.
    She opened a door toward the end of the hall and motioned Kate inside. The room was light and airy and