Heartland Courtship Read Online Free PDF Page A

room.” He left it open that he’d need her to cover that.
    “Where will you live?” she asked finally.
    “I thought I’d ask in town who has room for me.”
    She offered him her hand. “It’s a deal then. Let’s go to town and stake this claim.”
    “Yes, Miss Rachel.” His words were polite but she caught just the slight edge of irony under them. What had made this man so mocking of himself and others? She would just take him as he was. Until he moved on.
    And she ignored the sensitive currents that raced up her arm when he gripped her hand and shook it as if she were another man. Were foolish schoolgirl feelings going to pop up now when she least needed them? And when to show them would embarrass both her and this complex man?
    * * *
    Brennan halted the team outside the narrow storefront. In the window, a small white placard read simply Government Office and beneath that a smaller placard—Agent Present. He went around and helped Miss Rachel down. She looked sturdier than she felt as he assisted her. She was such a little bit of a woman—with such big ideas.
    He seriously doubted she would be allowed to register for a homestead. The idea was crazy. Still, he asked, “Do you want me to come in with you?”
    She looked up at him with a determined expression, her large gray eyes flashing and direct. “No, I can handle this myself.”
    He listened for any sign she might want him to accompany her. But he caught only a shade of tartness in her tone. He accepted her decision. He didn’t like people hovering over him either. “Then I’ll be going to find me a room.”
    “Very well. If I am not here when you need me, look for me at the General Store.” Without waiting for his reply, she marched to the door and went inside. He wondered idly why she never wore any lace or pretty geegaws. And she skimmed her hair back so severely. Didn’t she want to look pretty?
    He stood a moment, staring after her. Northern women were different all right and up to now, Miss Rachel stood out as the most different he’d met. Lorena’s biddable face flickered in his mind, stinging as it always did. He walked resolutely away from the starchy Yankee and his own taunting memories.
    He paused, scanning the lone dusty street for a likely place to ask for a room. This little dot on the shore of the Mississippi hadn’t progressed to having a boardinghouse yet.
    Whom could he ask? Then he noticed the saloon at the end of the street, the kind of place where he always found an easy welcome—as long as he had money in his pocket.
    No doubt it would irritate Miss Rachel if he went in there. So he strode toward it, reveling in the ability to walk down a street healthy once again. He pushed through swinging doors into the saloon, almost empty in the late morning. A pudgy older man leaned back behind the bar.
    “Mornin’,” Brennan greeted him.
    “What can I do for you?” the man replied genially.
    Brennan approached the bar. “I’m new in town, need a room. You know any place that’d be good for me to ask at?”
    They exchanged names and shook hands.
    “You’re from the South?” Sam, the barkeep, commented.
    “Yeah.” Though bristling, Brennan swallowed a snide reply.
    After eyeing him for a few moments, Sam rubbed his chin. “Most shopkeepers have family above their place or build a cabin behind their business. Got a blacksmith-farrier in town. Single. Think he’s got a loft empty. Can’t think of anybody else that has room.”
    “Don’t have many businesses in this bump in the road,” Brennan drawled, leaning against the bar, suddenly glad to have someone more like him to talk to. The Whitmores were good folk, but he had to watch his errant tongue around them.
    Sam smirked. “You got that right.”
    A look of understanding passed between them. Brennan drew in a deep breath. “Thanks for your advice about the room.”
    “Glad to help. Drop in some evening and we’ll have a tongue wag.”
    After nodding, Brennan headed