Mrs. Wallin had tended it so lovingly, growing herbs, fruits, and vegetables for the house. She’d even planted a few flowers. Ciara found a rose climbing the side of the cabin and cleared the grass away from its roots before harvesting the rose hips left over from the last bloom. The limbs of the nearby apple tree nearly touched the ground, so thick were the apples growing on it. A few were ready early, which she plucked, but they’d have quite a crop in a month or so if she could keep the animals and Frisco and Sutter away.

  Still, bindweed and thistle had crept in since Beth had left, choking the plants that had seeded. She yanked out as much as she could to discover a few ripe zucchini and a couple heads of cauliflower. She’d have to plant more next year.

  Next year. Because her restaurant would succeed. The thought inflated her chest and raised her head.

  That’s when she noticed the tall ferns at the side of the garden chattering as they waved. She stared at the offending plants. No, she wasn’t going to give in to fear. It was likely a chipmunk or rabbit, attempting to remain hidden from her. She bent to cut off the last head of cauliflower.

  The lynx stepped into the clearing and stared at her with baleful eyes. From the fields beyond, James’ beloved steeldusts trumpeted a warning.

  She already knew the danger padding toward her.

  ***

  Drew rested his ax on the well-trod ground and nodded up the hill where they were working. “There’s a clearing at the top. Good place for a cabin.”

  Harry raised a brow but wisely said nothing.

  It was the third time that week their boss had taken the trouble to point Kit toward likely claims.

  “A little far from Wallin Landing,” Kit said before lopping off another branch from the cedar they’d downed. A monarch of the forest, the base stood taller than Jesse’s head by a good two feet.

  “An easy walk on a clear day.” Jesse’s voice drifted up from the other side before an ax cracked against bark.

  A shot rang out in the distance. Everyone paused. The forest lay silent, waiting as well.

  Kit was running before Drew barked, “Move!”

  He hurled himself through the forest, leaping fallen trees, ducking under low branches. Before, he’d been terrified something had happened to Grace.

  Now all he could think about was Ciara.

  Had Mrs. Virden returned to torment her?

  Had the stove caught fire?

  Had an outlaw ridden into Wallin Landing?

  What Jesse had called a good walk went surprisingly slowly even at a fast run. Kit was panting as he careened into the clearing. There was no sign of Ciara or whoever had fired that shot, though the flash of movement through the trees closer to the mercantile said that James was heading that way as well.

  Kit jumped up on the porch and shoved through the door. Ciara rushed at him, throwing herself into his arms. He held her close, a wave of thanksgiving swamping him.

  Harry and Drew followed him, Jesse bringing up the rear.

  “What happened?” Drew demanded, ax at the ready.

  Ciara raised her head from Kit’s shoulder, her whole body trembling against his. “Lynx. I yelled at it, and it ran, but I didn’t like it that close to the house. It came out of the woods by the kitchen garden.”

  Drew tipped his head to Jesse. “Go tell Simon. Harry, tell James. I think I saw him as we were approaching. I’ll fetch John. It may circle back. We don’t want it going after the stock.”

  “Right,” Harry said, heading out the door with Jesse behind him.

  Drew looked to Kit. “Stay here. If John’s amenable, I’ll have you go with him, see if we can drive it out of the area.”

  Kit nodded, and his boss strode out.

  Ciara dropped her head back onto his shoulder with a shudder. “It was only a few feet away.”

  He rubbed her back with one hand, the cotton of her gown soft against his fingers. “They don’t usually attack full-grown adults. But I’m glad you called us in. It’s prowling too close for comfort.”

  Her chest expanded against his as she must have taken a deep breath, and all at once he was aware of how close she was, how warm she felt in his arms, how well she fit against him. As if she noticed too, she took a step back.

  “Thank you, Kit,” she said, though her gaze appeared to be on his dusty boots. “I’m fine now. I should finish getting dinner ready.” She hurried for the kitchen.

  He nearly went after her, to do what, he wasn’t sure, but the door opened, and John came in, rifle up over his shoulder. “I was already heading this way when Drew found me. It sounds like we need to do some herding. Ready?”

  “Give me a moment,” Kit said before going for his rifle.

  “I don’t want to kill it if we don’t have to,” Drew’s brother confessed as they headed away from the cabin a short while later. Kit glanced back to find Ciara watching through the kitchen window. He raised a hand, and she pressed her fingers to the glass as if to clutch him close.

  “As far as it’s concerned,” John continued as they neared the garden, “we’re the interlopers in the neighborhood. But we can’t have it going after the stock or, God forbid, one of the children.”

  The thought was like a bucket of rainwater dumped on his head, leaving him chilled. “Understood. So, what do we do?”

  John stopped to crouch at the far edge of the overgrown garden. “We track it, we find it, we scare it out of the area.” His fingers traced a rounded print in the dirt. “This way.”

  Kit had talked with John often enough about how to track. The fourth Wallin brother was the acknowledged expert in the family. Following him now, Kit began to see the forest from a different vantage point. That four-toed print in the mud at the edge of the lake, the break in a small branch where something bigger had passed quickly enough to snap instead of bend it. A momentary scent, blown on the breeze, of something that wasn’t plant. Even the quiet that settled over the woods as they approached a pile of rock tumbled down from a wooded cliff.

  The lynx was crouched near the top, body stiff and tail lashing.

  John brought up his rifle. “Shoot below it. Push it up and over the top. And shout. As loud as you can.”

  With a nod, Kit brought up his rifle as well.

  “Git!” John shouted. “Go on! Git!” The bullets zinged as they ricocheted off the basalt.

  The big cat snarled.

  “Yah!” Kit shouted. “Go on! Git!”

  His shot sent the cat pelting away. As John had predicted, it went up and over, and Kit heard a clatter of stones as it must have run off.

  “Is that enough?” he asked, lowering his rifle.

  John shouldered his. “Possibly. We’ll have to watch and tell the neighbors to do the same. If it keeps coming back, we may have no choice but to kill it.”

  He sounded sincerely sad as he turned for home. Kit knew the feeling. There was something proud, powerful by the way the animal had stood its ground.

  “So,” John said, retracing their steps through fern and grove. “You’re going to marry Ciara.”

  Kit nearly stumbled on the narrow path. “We have an understanding,” he said, feeling a little craven about not elaborating.

  John held up a branch for him to duck under. “I remember when I first met Dottie. Beth thought I wasn’t making enough progress in finding a wife, so she sent for a mail-order bride for me.”

  Kit shook his head, certain he must have misheard. “She sent for a wife, without your agreement?”

  “Agreement or even knowledge,” John confirmed. He hopped over a creek winding its way toward the lake, and Kit splashed after him. “I was ready to send her home, until I saw she had Peter. She needed someone to come alongside her, help shoulder her burdens, and the more I grew to know her, the more I wanted to be that person. It seems to me that Ciara feels the same way about you and Grace.”

  Kit chuckled. “Well, she noticed I need help all right. I don’t know how I would have gotten through the last week without her. But that’s no reason to marry a man.”

  “It’s not the help but the person who needs the help,” John insisted, squeezing through a stand of close aspens.

  As if John took his silence for doubt, he glanced back. “You and I have several things in common, Kit. We both love to learn, we both like trying new things. And we don’t talk about ourselves much. I’ve been told that last one makes it harder for someone to know a person. I’m glad Ciara took the time to know you.”

  But she hadn’t. That was the entire problem. And he couldn’t shake the feeling that once she did, she’d be turning tail faster than that lynx.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ciara paced the plank floor, the swish of her skirts sounding as loud as a blowing wind. Clouds were gathering outside; she could see them crowding up over the hill every time she passed the window. Her own nerves seemed piled as high.

  “They aren’t that big, lynx,” Jesse said helpfully from where he sat whittling by the hearth. “Not like a cougar. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

  Oh, how she wanted to believe that! At least she’d put on a stew tonight, testing a new set of spices and vegetables, including the mushrooms Drew’s son Lars had brought her. That could simmer right along with her fears.

  “Would you like help setting out the plates?” Harry offered from where he’d been reading at the table.

  Ciara shook her head. Better to keep busy. She made herself gather the cups and plates from the sideboard and began doling them out, gaze darting toward the window.

  Harry’s hand covered hers a moment, and she looked at him, startled.

  “I know it might seem like I eat a lot,” he said with a smile. “But I only need one plate.”

  She glanced at the three in front of him to the two cups at Jesse’s usual place and sighed. “Sorry, Harry. Maybe I need your help after all.”

  “Always happy to oblige a lady,” he said. He lay aside his book and started setting the table to rights.

  Her gaze locked onto Kit’s as he walked in the door. His hair was more mussed than usual, and fir needles stuck to his flannel shirt and trousers. But she couldn’t spot any injuries.

  “Taken care of,” he told her with a smile. “Is that dinner I smell?”

  “It will be on the table by the time you get back with Grace,” she promised him, body feeling surprisingly light.

  “And so will your plate,” Harry said with a wink to Ciara.

  She had the stew served and biscuits in a bowl within a half hour. The biscuits wouldn’t be as light as Levi’s, for she’d had no mind to try his hints. Kit had returned from Nora’s with Grace, and the two sat in their spot on the bench. She wasn’t sure why she sat, fork in hand, watching as he ate. He had graceful hands for a man given to hard labor. The fingers separated the biscuit almost reverently, as if she’d made something fine.

  “You know what they say about cooks,” Harry threw out from his place at the foot of the table. “Them that don’t eat their own food aren’t worth trusting.”

  Ciara flushed and forked up a mouthful.

  “We already know Ciara’s worth trusting,” Kit said with a look Harry’s way.

  “But she needs to eat,” Jesse protested. He picked up the cloth-lined bowl of biscuits and shoved it toward her. “They’re real good.”

  She smiled her thanks as she took the bowl. “But not as good as Levi’s?”

  His smile slipped.

  Harry snorted. “Nobody’s biscuits are as good as Levi’s. If that man wasn’t a minister, he ought to be the one opening a restaurant.”

  “Well, he told me the secret on Sunday,” she said. “I just haven’t had the opportunity to use it. But you’ll see. I’ll manage it.”

  “If anyone can, you can,” Kit said.

  “No, no, no, no, no,” Grace added with an enthusiastic nod.

  With Kit home safe, Ciara hoped to turn her mind to other things than that lynx. She whipped up enough batter for two cakes the next day and carried one to Dottie and John in appreciation. Avoiding the shortcut behind Drew’s house and through the woods, she took the long route by the road.

  “Did you run all the way?” Dottie asked after Ciara had knocked at the door of the farmhouse and offered the cake.

  Ciara fought to calm her jittery breaths. “Just in a hurry, I suppose.”

  Dottie smiled as she accepted the cake. “And you took the time to bake for us? That was so kind!”

  “Well, I wanted you and John to know how much I appreciate what he did with that lynx,” Ciara told her. “I kept expecting it to jump out of the trees.”

  “I was frightened when I first came to Wallin Landing too,” Dottie told her. “Every noise, every flash of movement made me think something was out to get me. I’d been raised in cities and villages. What did I know about the wilderness? John helped me realize there’s a great deal of beauty to be had here.”

  “Kit’s doing the same for me,” Ciara admitted. “I’ve spent most of my life in towns too. How did you accustom yourself to the differences?”

  “I suppose I never did,” Dottie said with a laugh. “But I’m not scared anymore. I know I can look to the people around me for help. I’m not alone.”

  The words kept repeating in Ciara’s mind as she started back for the cabin. She wasn’t alone either. Kit had proven he’d come at a run when she called. Harry and Jesse weren’t far behind, despite the fact they understood she wouldn’t be marrying either of them. And she knew from experience she could rely on Drew, his brothers, and their wives for anything she needed.

  The woods looked different this time as she strolled along the road. Sunlight picked out branches of dusky green fir. Birds flitted here and there. The air was cool and scented by the moisture of the lake. That patch of blackcaps Dottie had spotted were nearly ripe, promising untold riches. She’d be stupid to forget the dangers, but Kit and Dottie were right. She’d be equally unwise to forget the beauty.

  Something larger moved among the trees, and she cocked her head. Deer? Elk? Not a moose! Once more, fear beckoned her closer. She squared her shoulders and walked on, but her gaze kept darting toward the trees.

  Horse!

  She nearly laughed aloud at the realization. A rider was making his way south, closer to the lake, on the back of a dappled gray. She couldn’t make out his face. Was this someone new to the area? Maybe she’d see him at dinner when the restaurant opened.

  In two days!

  Now the haste in her steps had nothing to do with fear, or at least not fear of anything in the forest. She still had a lot to do to be ready.

  The cabin furnishings had been designed to feed eight people, and Mrs. Wallin’s china service was large enough for a dozen. Ciara had brought her own service, a rose-patterned porcelain that would serve another dozen. She could safely feed eighteen before having to wash, with a few settings left over for the next batch of customers, even though the tables she planned to use only sat twelve. Would she have half that number on the first night?

  She was in the middle of fixing dinner when she heard the main door open.

  “Hello, the house!” She recognized James’ voice. “You have a visitor.”

  “We don’t have to bother her.” That was Katie Jo. “I can jaw at her some other time.”

  “Not at all!” Ciara wiped her hands on her apron and swept through the archway into the main room. “I’m so glad you came! Thank you, James, for escorting her.”

  “Always delighted to do a good deed for fair lady,” James said with a bow. He waggled his eyebrows at Ciara. “And if I hadn’t, she might have bolted.”

  “No such thing!” Katie Jo insisted. “I wanted to see Miss Ciara. I just didn’t think we should interrupt her work.”

  “Your timing is perfect,” Ciara assured her. “I just put an apple and pork pie in the oven, and I have at least a half hour before it has to come out and cool. Sit with me.”

  James winked at her before whisking himself out the door. Katie Jo went to perch on one of the chairs so carefully she might have thought it would break. She pulled off her slouch hat, and whisps of her honey-blond hair stood on end.

  “You sure?” she asked.

  “Absolutely,” Ciara said, taking a seat in the rocker. “How are you faring?”

  “Middling,” she said, setting the hat on her knee as a man would have done. “My brother took sick, but he seems to be getting better.”

  “Rina mentioned you have a brother,” Ciara said. “So do I. Older or younger?”

  “Younger, by a fair bit.”

  “Mine’s four years younger. We didn’t always get along when we were children, but he’s tolerable now.”

  Katie Jo smiled. “They grow into themselves, don’t they.”

  “They do indeed. Would you like something to drink?”

  Her smile faded. “Who told you I drink? I’m more of a temperance kind of gal.”

  “Lemonade,” Ciara clarified. “I made a fresh batch this morning.”

  She dropped her gaze and fiddled with her hat. “Sorry. I’m used to folks assuming the worst.”

  “It’s that way for the Irish too, sometimes,” Ciara said. “Why don’t I bring us each a glass? And I have a cake. I have to save most of it for the gentlemen this evening, but there’s enough for us each to have a slice, if you like.”

  She nodded. “That would be real nice.”

  Ciara bustled into the kitchen. It took two trips, but she had the lemonade poured, cake sliced and plated, and everything back to the table in short order. Katie Jo took a seat in Harry’s usual chair.

  “I hear your claim is quite a walk from Wallin Landing,” Ciara commented as she passed the lady a plate.

  “’bout a half hour’s walk through the woods in good weather.”

  “You’re a lot braver than I am. Just walking up to Nora’s gives me the shivers.”

  She handed a glass to Katie Jo, who hesitated to accept it.