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employment."
    "It does appear that way, doesn't it?" The thought was so disconcerting, she quite forgot her mother's admonishments about her unladylike habit of chewing on her bottom lip. She'd been so intent upon the immediate problem of finding suitable accommodations, she hadn't fully considered her plight until now. Not only was she without employment, she lacked even the funds to pay for her fare back home.
    Mr. Boxer had sent her a portion of her advance to pay for her train fare to Kansas , with the agreement that she would receive the second half of the money owed her upon her arrival. The advance was to cover expenses until she started collecting her salary.
    She took a long sip of wine. "Do you by any chance know where I might find Mr. Boxer?"
    "My guess would that he's in Hays."
    "Oh, yes. Two or three hours away, depending on how much you value your life."
    Humor warmed his eyes, but all too quickly the soft lights disappeared and his mouth tightened into a straight line. "At least that." He glanced at her plate and refilled her wineglass. "Would you care for anything more?"
    "No, thank you," she said, puzzled by the way her host seemed to guard every word, every look, as if he determined not to give too much away. Clearly, he was a man who had much to hide. "Dinner was delicious."
    He stood and cleared his plate. "You can spend the night here, if you like."
    She gazed at the single bed that was pushed against one wall, and her heart started to pound nervously. "I appreciate your offer, but…"
    He reached for her plate, his nearness bringing unexpected warmth to her quivering body. His masculine smell was mixed with an earthy quality that challenged her senses to a new level of awareness.
    "You aren't going to bore me with explanations of having to protect your reputation, are you?"
    She pushed herself away from the table. "My reputation?"
    His eyes flickered down the length of her. Now as before, her trousers seemed to give him pause, but only for the instant it took for his usual indifference to assert itself across his features. "I can assure you that you will be perfectly safe here."
    That was encouraging news, though she would have preferred that he not look so thoroughly uninterested, as if he couldn't imagine anyone compromising her virtue.
    "Actually, it is my reputation that concerns me. You know how reputations are." She was prattling but couldn't seem to stop. "They have a way of following you wherever you go."
    A dark shadow crossed his face, as if she'd touched a nerve. "In that case, I can put your mind at ease. No one but Matthew and myself will ever know where you spent the night. I can assure you that your reputation shall remain intact."
    She hated feeling stranded or dependent on anyone. She lifted her chin boldly. "That's very kind of you but I prefer sleeping outside in the wagon. If you would be kind enough to lend me a blanket and pillow."
    His gaze remained on her face as he addressed his son. "Matthew, please carry a bedroll outside for our guest."
    Matthew slipped off his chair and pulled a bedroll out of a wooden trunk. He waited at the door for Maddie.
    "Is there anything else you'll be needing?" Mr. Tyler's low-timbered voice suddenly struck her as too personal, too intimate in tone.
    "No, thank you." Good Lord, now he had her talking in intimate whispers. "No, thank you," she repeated. This time she spoke with a loud, bold voice that brought another layer of fine dust sifting down from the ceiling. Brushing the dirt off herself, she realized that he spoke softly for practical purposes and the intimate quality of his speech was purely by accident.
    Feeling foolish and a bit light-headed from the wine, she backed toward the door and purposely softened her voice to match his. "I'm most obliged to you, Mr. Tyler, for your hospitality. Dinner was delicious."
    "I apologize for the way I greeted you earlier. I really did think you were someone else."
    "I'm glad I wasn't…someone else, I