Then Came You: A Prequel to The McPhee Clan Read Online Free Page A

hungry or the downtrodden." Her face flamed, because he'd hit a sore spot. Aware of the worn state of her clothes, she slipped her foot into her shoe, held so steady in his hands. It felt terribly intimate somehow, personal and close. Perhaps because she could feel the warmth radiating from him. Not that she wanted to acknowledge any feelings she might have—say, feelings that went beyond a mere passing crush on the man. Her chin hiked up. "I'm hardly either."
    "Well, you
do
have two holes in that stocking." Gentle that tone, caring. His hat hid his face as he lowered her foot to the ground.
    Her cheeks flamed, but his gentleness helped ease her humiliation. He'd worked at the ranch since February. He knew about her situation, that she was Maureen's indentured servant and earned no wages. Everything she earned went straight to paying off her debt. She'd prepared and served his meals every day, along with the rest of the ranch hands, so her life was no secret to him. Perhaps it was the understanding—and the embarrassment of being so destitute—that made her eyes sting.
    "I know, I've been feeling those holes in my sock all morning long." Humor, she thought. That's what she needed. Gil felt extraordinarily close, even as he stood up, rising to his impressive, towering height. She could not afford to let down her guard. "Guess I have some darning to do tonight."
    "Seems like that stocking has been patched up one too many times." The caring in his voice reached out to her, made her look up when she wanted to look away, made her lean in just a fraction of an inch when she'd be smart to leap away.
    "Yes, and exactly what were you doing looking that closely at my stocking?" She hiked up an eyebrow, trying to go back to the usual, casual banter that had always naturally existed between them. Feared that she couldn't. "Perhaps you could answer that?"
    "Hey, I couldn't help myself." The hint of his smile returned. "You have a pretty foot."
    "Seriously? You're going to try and charm me? You're no better than Lawrence."
    "Maybe, maybe not." The faint smile vanished from his rugged face, the corners of his mouth tipped downward. He was serious, there was no more light-heartedness between them as he stepped back into the snow, disappearing into it. When he spoke, his voice came muffled by the storm, drifting to her on a wintry wind. "I know it doesn't look like it now, but I've been really poor too."
    "When?" Her forehead crinkled, her chest tugged with surprise and concern. Gil had hired on after George Klemp was fired. Gil was second in command at the Rocking M, so capable and obviously successful at what he did. He had one of the nicest horses of all the hired men. "It had to be long ago."
    "After my folks died when I was ten, I lived in an orphanage for a couple of years." Matter of fact, those words, holding no emotion.
    She wished the storm wasn't between them, that she could see his face, read what he wasn't saying in his eyes. She hadn't known this about Gil. In fact, she knew very little about him. She'd rarely been alone with him before this. There was always someone else around in the Rocking M kitchen or on the ranch, or even in town.
    "I'm sorry, Gil. That had to have been devastating." She shivered as the wind buffeted her, penetrating the layers of her clothing, chilling her to the skin. "My da died when I was thirteen. Still had my mother, but she remarried soon after."
    "Let me guess. He was no decent man." Gil reappeared, swathed in snow, iron strong. "That's why you left Ireland so young, to escape."
    "Yes." She had memories of those dark times she kept under lock and key. They were behind her, why bring them out in the light now? Her stepfather could no longer harm her or her sister. What was years of servitude and debt when compared with that? "But we were talking about you. Were you adopted?"
    "In a way, I guess. My uncle finally came to claim me." He might have been talking about anything—the weather, gossip,