No One But You Read Free

themselves.
    Oddly, he gave her the impression of being as sturdy as a tree, able to bend when necessary but keeping his roots firmly attached to the ground. Maybe it was his expression that was an engaging mixture of curiosity and cheerfulness. Maybe it was his unhurried gait, the way he stood calmly waiting for her to reply. Or maybe it was simply clothes that fit his body comfortably without being baggy. Maybe it was his broad shoulders and powerful forearms she could see below his rolled-up sleeves. His voice had a low, slow, and distinctly Southern accent; his gaze was forthright. His gray eyes seemed to welcome her. Or it could be that she was so afraid of being spurned that anything less than outright rejection seemed like an invitation.
    â€œWe’re not lost,” Ellen told the man. “We’ve come to look for a hired man.”
    The man’s brow creased. “Why would you think he was here?”
    Sarah pulled her scattered wits together. “I need to find a man to help me with my ranch. I was hoping one of the Randolphs would know of someone I could hire.”
    The man’s expression cleared. “You ought to go to Austin. You’ll find plenty of men there looking for work.”
    â€œI’ve been to Austin.”
    â€œHow about San Antonio? It’s a far piece, but I’m sure you can find lots of men there.”
    She could find lots of men just about anywhere, but she didn’t want just any man. If she had to marry him, he had to be someone special, maybe someone like this helpful stranger.
    The man switched his hoe to the other shoulder, stepped forward, and extended his hand. “Howdy. My name’s Benton Wheeler but everybody calls me Salty.”
    Sarah took the proffered hand. It was big and rough-skinned with long fingers. His grip was firm but gentle. “I’m Sarah Winborne. These are my children, Ellen and Jared.”
    â€œPleased to meet you.” Salty shook hands with both children before turning back to Sarah. “You have a handsome family. They must take after their mama.”
    Sarah wasn’t immune to a compliment, even one she was certain she didn’t deserve. “They had a very handsome father.”
    â€œA lady like you doesn’t deserve anything less.”
    This man’s voice was like a fragrant oil, slipping sweet compliments by her in a way that made it feel like he meant every word.
    â€œHe died in the war,” Ellen said.
    â€œI’m mighty sorry to hear that. Children deserve a father.”
    They’d never had one, but that wasn’t something Sarah was willing to share with a stranger, even an intriguing stranger who had succeeded in making her feel pretty when she knew she didn’t look pretty.
    â€œHe never did write,” Ellen said. “Do you think that makes him a bad father?”
    â€œHe couldn’t write if he died.”
    â€œI suppose so,” Ellen agreed with Salty, “but Mama wanted at least one letter.”
    Sarah loved her daughter dearly, but the girl had no idea when to keep her mouth shut. She was as open and uncomplicated as the horses she loved so much. “I would like to speak to Mrs. Randolph,” Sarah said to Salty. “Is she at home?”
    â€œShe sure is. I’ll walk you up to the house.”
    â€œYou don’t need to do that.”
    â€œIt’s no trouble. Besides, my mama told me to be nice to pretty ladies.”
    The only reason this man couldn’t be happily married to an adoring wife would be that his silver tongue had gotten him into trouble with the law and he was hiding out.
    â€œI expect it was your father who advised you to offer them soft soap.”
    Salty grinned. “You have to be a Southerner to know what that means.”
    â€œBecause I’m a Southerner, I know just how much it’s worth.”
    She liked his laugh. It was easy, genuine, and was accompanied by glistening eyes that said he was a