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She’s far more familiar with goings-on at the mine than I. She’ll be able to answer any questions you might have.”
    Jake cast a glance at the window. “It’s pretty nasty weather for a young lady to be out and about.”
    A mischievous twinkle brightened her eyes. “Indigo doesn’t let bad weather slow her down. She’s waiting for you out front.”
    Jake immediately snapped to, imagining someone very like Mrs. Wolf shivering on the porch. “I’ll be on my way then.”
    “You’ll be joining us for meals, of course, since you’ll be using our son Chase’s bedroom for the duration of your stay. We have our supper promptly at six.”
    Jake disliked the thought of further depleting their stores of food. He knew without being told that the Wolf family was hard put right now. “I appreciate the offer, Mrs. Wolf, but I already made arrangements to stay at the hotel.”
    “Nonsense,” she retorted. “The moment you get back from your tour of the mine, you go over and tell Mr. Bronson you’ve had a change in plans. Mike’s rates are more than fair, but they’re far too steep for a workingman who needs lodging.”
    Jake was no workingman, and he already liked the Wolf family far more than he felt he should. If he stayed in their home and took meals with them, it could only complicate matters. “That’s very kind but—”
    She held up a hand. “I’ll not hear another word. You’re staying with us, and that’s final.” With that, she swept past him to lean over her sleeping husband. After pressing the inside of her wrist against his forehead, she glanced up and flashed a beatific smile. “I haven’t seen him so at peace since the accident.”
    Jake didn’t like being cast into the role of savior. He backed out of the bedroom and softly closed the door.

Chapter 3
    WHEN INDIGO HEARD THE FRONT DOOR open, she forced a smile, determined to be pleasant to Jake Rand if it killed her. Though his arrival had usurped what she considered to be her rightful place, she knew it wasn’t truly his fault. The moment she settled her gaze on him, however, her good intentions scattered like dandelion fluff on the wind. He was nothing like she expected.
    Miners came in all types, colors, and sizes, of course, but most weren’t so handsome. None in her memory had been taller than her father, and those with enough experience to supervise a dig were usually older. She stared up at his sun-burnished face, taking in the squared line of his jaw, the tiny creases at the corners of his coffee-brown eyes, the jut of his straight nose. The clean, sharply chiseled planes of his features reminded her of a seasoned wood carving. Not a trace of gray showed in his ebony hair. She guessed him to be in his late twenties or early thirties.
    Though his red-plaid wool shirt and faded jeans weren’t new, they were spanking clean. A miner’s clothes, even freshly washed, usually bore earth stains. After shutting the door behind him, he took two long strides and stopped, so tall that the porch overhang barely cleared his head. After giving her a brief nod in greeting, he darted his dark gaze left and right, then frowned and stared through the sheeting rain toward town.
    She thought it rather rude the way he ignored her. She didn’t think it was proper for a lady to address a gentleman first. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t have fussed about something so trivial, but folks from outside Wolf’s Landing put a lot of stock in manners. She began to wish she had gone inside and muddied up her mother’s floors so she wouldn’t be faced with this dilemma. The last thing she wanted was to make a bad first impression.
    Still looking up the street, he pursed his firm lips and whistled a little “Yankee Doodle.” She took advantage of the moment to study him. The wind whipped his wavy black hair across his forehead. The faded denim of his pants rode low on his lean hips and stretched taut over the powerful contours of his thighs. Tucked neatly at the