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and haul it to the cabin.” Taking off his coat, he hooked it on the saddle horn and drew his knife.
    She watched in awe and with more than a trace of reluctance as he cleaned the deer, finally tying its back feet together and throwing the rope over a branch. Hehauled the carcass high, with what looked like a minimum of effort to her, yet his muscles strained against the gray fabric of his shirt. The end of the rope was tied to a second tree, and they were on their way once more.
    The rest of the ride was a blur in her mind, her body weary, her eyes yearning for slumber. Finally, the cabin a shadowed haven before them, Quinn came to her, lifting her from the mare and holding her shoulders while she gained her balance.
    “Thank you.” She looked up at him, savoring the warm touch of his hands, which penetrated the heavy coat. Then, as if she could not meet his gaze any longer, looked over his shoulder where the moon chased the last of the twilight from the sky. “I can’t thank you enough for your help,” she said softly, moving from his touch to reach for her saddlebags.
    His big hands halted her attempt, and he shook his head. “You go on in the house and get washed up for bed,” he told her. “I’ll be done in no time. I’m going to try milking Daisy. If I can’t get the job done, you can come out and finish. Is that a deal?”
    She nodded, too tired to argue, too weary to be prideful. “I’ll cut some cheese from the round I bought and slice some bread.”
    “Put the coffeepot on the front burner. There should be enough left from this morning to heat up,” he told her. He watched as she made her way to the porch, then up the two steps to the door.
    She lit the lantern, fed the ever-hungry stove and found warm water in the big kettle. The cloth was rough, but the warm, clean water was refreshing, and she closed her eyes at the pleasure.
    She was asleep when he came in, the lantern over the table flickering at its lowest level. The simple food wasready for him and he ate it, washing it down with coffee.
    He eyed her for a moment, curled in the center of the bed, boots off, but still clothed. Her body weighed less than he expected, he thought as he lifted her and pulled the quilts down. He placed her back in the spot she’d already warmed with her body heat and covered her with care.
    So easily, he’d come to appreciate the quiet strength of the woman, her ability to cope with circumstances, even the long ride today. With not a moment’s complaint.
    She’d been foolish to come to this place, this deserted cabin, where her existence was riding a fine edge. And yet he couldn’t help but admire the courage of her choice; even as he wondered why she had shunned the help offered by the Wentworths.
    He wasn’t surprised that Ted and Estelle Wentworth wanted her back in their home. She was a daughter to be proud of. Perhaps not their daughter, he amended silently, but the next thing to it. And the chances were good that the child she carried would be equally as fine.
    But how Damian had ever wooed and won this prize was beyond him. From all he’d heard, the boy Quinn had known had come to be something of a scoundrel, chasing women as if it were more important than his studies, back at university. He’d been handy at gambling, and whiskey had been his downfall, so the stories went. Strange that this fine-featured woman, with so much to offer a man, should have settled for Damian Wentworth. And even stranger that her beauty and strength of character had not been enough to keep him faithful.
    Perhaps it was the money that had wooed her to hiscause. No…not likely, he decided. If hard, cold cashand what it could buy for her benefit-was her priority in life, it wasn’t readily apparent now. Although she wasn’t hurting for money. Somewhere she’d gotten a nest egg.
    He’d looked the other way as she unearthed the box from beneath the floorboards of the cabin earlier. But his glance had encompassed a pile of