Kisses With KC (Cowboys and Angels Book 11)(9)

Two—he’d have to find out who bought them as well. It was always a good idea to follow the money.”

Three—KC learned that Ellis’s twin sister, Eliza, was the letter writer, the one who’d been spying on her own house. He still wondered why, but he thought she was seeing if the coast was clear to sneak back home.

Four—Eliza Turley intrigued him. By snooping around, she put herself in a windstorm of danger, and being around him made that a tornado. He told himself that he would have to stick close to protect her.

He’d just arranged his guns and ammo near the head of the bedroll when the donkey brayed below him, and the angel appeared, standing in the loft by the ladder that led back down.

KC tucked the last knife under his blanket and said, “You’re my guardian angel, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Would you say that guarding me is your job?”

“Maybe.” He drawled out the word.

“But you let me tackle that woman out of her saddle?”

The angel shrugged his shoulders and then picked up a piece of straw and stuck it in his mouth.

“If I’d sneaked up on an outlaw, there could have been a different outcome ending in my death.”

“Rein in your horses there. You ain’t that dumb or inept. Neither am I. I ain’t lost one yet.”

The donkey brayed and stamped her hooves.

“Well, of course I remember that man, MayBelle,” the prospector said. Then he faced KC. “There was one feller who slipped into the frozen lake. He weren’t right after that.” He shook his head slowly, sadly. Then in an aside to the donkey, he said, “But he ain’t dead.”

KC wondered if everyone the angel looked in on had a terrible near-death. “You knew I was sneaking up on a woman, didn’t you?” The old miner looked as if he was holding back a laugh. Guilty. “Well, you could have warned me.”

“Yeah . . . ” The prospector laughed so hard he couldn’t talk for a moment. “Yeah, I coulda.” The donkey snickered. “Glad I didn’t, though.” He laughed again. “In my mind, I just keep seeing you spring onto that woman,” His hand shot forward through the air. He doubled over, and the donkey threw its head upward and brayed. The miner turned toward the donkey. “I agree with you, MayBelle. This one’s gonna be fun, ain’t it?”

He walked to the top of the ladder, then turned back toward KC. “Eliza isn’t engaged anymore. Ha!” He laughed and slapped his leg. “Don’t that beat all?”

“You gonna eavesdrop on all my conversations?”

The old prospector called down below. “Have we got anything better to do, MayBelle?” The donkey snorted out a long sigh. “There’s your answer. I think we’ll listen in for a spell.”





4





Eliza Turley



It had been nearly a week that KC had been working at the Turley ranch. Eliza had found him quite the distraction from the very first day. She watched him work, chopping firewood and stacking it on the back porch. He was a powerful man. His broad shoulders swung with the motion of the ax. His slim waist swiveled, winding up for the next swing. He carried the logs like they were feathers. Eliza watched from the kitchen window as she cleaned the dishes, then from the window near the dining table as she darned socks. The hair in the front of his face fell out of the queue that held the rest behind his neck. Oh, my!

KC was a fine example of masculine beauty. Lance had been handsome—hadn’t he? She couldn’t imagine so now. He paled by comparison in every way.

When there were no more socks with holes, she had to start on the chores that would take her outside. She hoed a few rows in the garden, fed and watered the chicks in the brooder pen, then gathered eggs from the hen house.

Eliza tucked the basket in the crook of her arm and walked out the gate of the chickens’ roosts, latching it behind her. She’d left her bread rising when she’d started the outdoor chores. She hoped her bread wasn’t too big, or she’d have to punch it down again and wait. She swung around the corner and ran face-first into—KC—again.

He smiled and said, “Our lips need to stop meeting like this.”

Eliza’s cheeks warmed. The first mistaken kiss was clearly his fault. This one might have been hers. “I didn’t mean . . . the corner was . . . I’m sorry I . . . That was a mistake.” She quickly looked around, hoping no one had seen it. Then she said, “That was not a kiss.”

“Are you sure? It seemed like it might have been.”

“Of course I’m sure. I think if I’d kissed you, I’d know it.”

“Yes, ma’am, you would have.” He doffed his hat at her and continued walking the way he’d been going.

Eliza checked her basket of eggs. They were fine. She, however, felt more than a few cracks in her chest with bursts of excitement. She bustled toward the back door. A few feet away, she stopped. What did he mean by that?

Curiosity bubbled up. How would it feel different if she meant to kiss him or for him to kiss her? Her stomach fluttered, but she shook it off. It was silly to think about such things. They hardly knew each other. Still, she recalled the strength in his arms as she watched him work. She sighed. She imagined she’d feel protected and warm in those arms.