No One But You Read Online Free

staying for supper. And if you have more than a couple of questions, you can stay overnight and ask them tomorrow.”
    Sarah felt like she’d been run over by a freight wagon, but she had a feeling a lot of people did when they met Rose Randolph. If she herself had been more like Rose she wouldn’t have been forced to marry Roger.
    As was her habit, Ellen jumped down from the wagon without waiting for assistance.
    â€œThis is my daughter, Ellen Winborne.”
    â€œHow do you do,” Ellen said to Rose. “I’m pleased to meet you.” She had good manners when she remembered to use them.
    â€œYou’re going to be tall,” Rose said. “I bet you’re a big help to your mama.”
    â€œNot really. I prefer working outside.”
    â€œSo do I,” Rose confided, “but none of these men can cook.”
    â€œI don’t like cooking.”
    Rose’s gaze narrowed on Ellen. “Stick to your guns. There are a lot of men who make good cooks. Now I’d like to meet your brother.”
    â€œIt’s difficult for Jared to get out of the wagon by himself,” Sarah said to Rose. “He was born with a withered leg.”
    â€œI’ll lift him out.”
    Sarah had forgotten Salty was still there. She turned to decline his offer, but Salty had reached over the side of the wagon, hooked his arms around Jared, and lifted him out like he weighed nothing at all.
    â€œCan you stand on your own?” he asked the boy.
    â€œIf I have something to lean on,” Jared said. “I can hop with a stick, but I can’t go very far.”
    Sarah knew it embarrassed Jared to have to confess his weakness to yet another person, but she was proud of him for facing up to it.
    â€œBring him into the parlor,” Rose said to Salty. “He’s probably covered in bruises from being bounced to death in that wagon.”
    Sarah wanted to protest that this was unnecessary, that a chair in the kitchen would be fine, but Salty climbed the steps carrying Jared in his arms like he did this every day. Rose pelted Jared with questions and Salty with orders. They all disappeared inside the house, leaving Sarah and Ellen to turn when they heard the sound of an approaching rider.
    The man who rode up a moment later was the best-looking man Sarah had ever seen, even better looking than Roger. He swung down from the saddle when he reached them. Sarah could tell he was looking at her closely, probably trying to figure out if he was supposed to know them. He smiled and extended his hand in welcome.
    â€œMy name is George Randolph. There can’t be a good reason why you’re standing outside in this wind.”
    Sarah collected her badly scattered wits. “I’m Sarah Winborne, and this is my daughter, Ellen.”
    â€œLet’s save the rest of the introductions until we get inside.”
    He appeared to be the kind of gentleman Roger had thought himself to be. But Sarah was certain George would never hit his wife or turn his back on a crippled son. She looked down at her dirty boots.
    â€œDon’t worry about your boots,” George said. “You should see what the boys look like when they come in.”
    Sarah felt like a beggar in her worn coat and threadbare scarf, but there was nothing left to do but acquiesce to the invitation. She and Ellen climbed the steps and went inside.
    The hall that ran from the front to the back of the house was empty of furniture, but what looked like a dozen pairs of shoes and boots lined the wall.
    â€œThe men change in the bunkhouse before they come in to eat, but sometimes their boots get muddy getting here. Keeping extras is easier than trying to scrape the mud off.”
    On the immediate right was a doorway which appeared to lead to an office. On the left was an open arch. Looking through it, Sarah saw that Salty had settled Jared on a couch. Rose was busy putting pillows behind his back while Salty propped his leg