Iron Ties Read Free

to boot.
    Miss Snow held out a covered picnic basket, a small companion to the one being plundered by the construction crew. Reverend Sands cradled his hat in the crook of his arm and accepted the basket. Inez saw him smile before he offered his arm to Birdie. They picked their way around a pile of lumber to the private carriage blocking the rutted road.
    The bow twitched like the tail of an eager bluebird. Inez indulged in mental target practice.
    Touching the heels of her worn boots to Lucy’s sides, Inez approached the carriage.
    Miss Snow lifted china blue eyes—wide as a doll’s—to the horse and rider that suddenly loomed beside her. “Oh!” she chirped, then addressed Sands. “Another volunteer for your efforts, Reverend. How wonderful that so many of the church’s menfolk came to build the mission. I hope I brought enough chicken and lemonade to go around.” Her voice faltered under Inez’s glare.
    Reverend Sands shaded his eyes, his gaze on Inez as warm as the sun. “Mrs. Stannert! What a surprise and a pleasure! One moment while I help Miss Snow on her way.” He opened the carriage door.
    Birdie’s gaze snapped into focus as she took in Inez’s male attire—dusty boots, worn trousers, faded corduroy jacket and waistcoat—and, finally, Inez’s face. Recognition dawned. “Mrs. Stannert?”
    “Miss Snow.” Inez’s voice dripped ice.
    Birdie flushed, bright as a robin’s breast. “Pardon. I, I didn’t recognize you in the, um, hat.”
    She fiddled with her hat ribbons, with the cameo at her lace collar, looking everywhere but at Inez astride her horse. Birdie cleared her throat. “I should be going. Papa’s expecting me. See you at services tomorrow, Reverend.”
    She picked up her skirts to step into the carriage. The reverend’s gaze flickered to the blue flash of a silk-stockinged ankle.
    Inez sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.
    Sands shut the door, and, as the carriage rattled off, settled his broad-brimmed black hat back on his head. He turned toward Inez.
    Inez pulled the reins around. “You’re busy, it seems.”
    Sands grasped her stirrup. “I’m never too busy for you, Inez. You should know that by now.” His voice covered her anger, gentle as a blanket. He turned to the men sprawled on the ground, backs against the plank wall, feasting on chicken and biscuits. “Jake!”
    A pale boy with sunburned cheeks advanced, chicken leg in hand. Sands bequeathed him the basket. “Reinforcements for the troops.”
    Inez said, “You’ll miss your chance at supper.”
    “This is more important. There’s something I want to show you.” Sands took Lucy’s bridle and steered horse and rider around the unroofed building. He stopped in the rear of the two-story structure, among the piles of rough cut lumber. “Jump down.”
    No sooner had her feet touched the ground than Inez felt his hands on her waist. Sands spun her around and kissed her hard.
    Her slouch hat fell to the ground. The wind tumbled it through the short grass and struggling mountain daisies as he whispered in her ear, “Have I ever told you how irresistible you are in trousers?”
    She pushed him away. “Really? I thought your weakness was silk stockings.”
    He retrieved her hat. “Only when they’re on a certain woman.” He watched as she brushed the dust from the brim. “You’re rather prickly today, Inez. Is this about Miss Snow?”
    “She’s all of, what? Nineteen?” Inez jammed the hat back on her head. “A mere child.”
    “Very young,” he agreed.
    “Brassy blonde hair.”
    “I prefer brown. Dark brown.”
    “And those baby-doll blue eyes.”
    “My tastes run toward,” he squinted at her, “green? Or is that brown?”
    “Hazel,” she said stiffly. “As I understand it, Miss Snow came straight from finishing school in Philadelphia to spend the summer romping about the Rocky Mountains, batting her eyes at all eligible bachelors approved by her father. Who happens to be a lawyer for the