High Desert Haven (The Shepherd's Heart) by Lynnette Bonner Page B

for directions?”
    “Out the door. Take a left. Follow the road for three-quarters of a mile until you come to a fork in the road and take the fork to the left. The Hanging T is about five miles down that road.” Her eyes glinted with satisfaction as she ended without adding even one extra sentence. She folded her arms and cocked an eyebrow at him, as though to challenge his perception of her.
    “My, but your self-control is amazing,” he teased her again, causing another blush to tinge her creamy cheeks watermelon pink. “Thank you.” He tipped his hat and moved out the door with a genuine smile.
    Janice gave good directions and Jason soon rode under a crooked sign that read Hanging T in dim letters. As he topped the rise above the main buildings of the spread, his heart dropped in his chest. The place was even more rundown than he had imagined. He pulled his horse to a stop and surveyed the dilapidated buildings.
    The barn roof had collapsed under the weight of the snow and sagged almost to the ground. Splintered beams and boards protruded in all directions from under the mound of snow that covered it. At least the walls are still standing .
    He didn’t see a ranch house, but when he spied smoke rising from the side of a hill across the valley he realized that the main dwelling must be a sod shanty. When he looked more carefully, he could see there was a low door and even what appeared to be a window in the hillside. But even from this distance he could tell that the inside had to be small at best.
    The corral was nothing but scattered poles that lay in heaps covered by snow. The bunkhouse, far from inviting, lay to the south of the soddy. Its roof, though in better condition than the barn’s, sagged to the point of danger. The door hung awkwardly on its hinges and flapped in the chill wind. Next to it lay a snarled pile of wood. Someone was trying to extract a log from the jumbled pile and, by the looks of things, not having much success. The wood should have been cut, chopped, and properly stacked when it was brought in.
    Jason ran a hand over his jaw, the day-old stubble rasping as his fingers scraped over it. This is really where You want me, Lord?
    The only reply was the moaning of the bitter wind rushing across the juniper, sagebrush, and snow-covered hills. Jason sighed and urged his mount forward through the drifts, heading down the hill toward the run-down buildings.

6
    Nicki eyed a long thick branch on the top of the mangled heap. The log was the biggest one she had tackled so far, and it lay in such a position that she had to move it before she could get to any of the smaller wood underneath.
    She stepped back and rested her hands on her hips, walking back and forth, contemplating the pile in frustration. She blew a loose curl out of her face, cocked her head, and squatted down to see a different angle. “Well I suppose there’s nothing to do but just pull and hope it will come out.” She grasped the end of the log and pulled.
    Snow showered down through the pile, as branches cracked and snapped. Nicki pressed one foot against a smaller log for traction and gave a mighty heave. The log didn’t budge.
    “Excuse me,” a man spoke from directly behind her.
    Nicki gasped and spun around. Her mind filled with the same terror she had felt that morning when she’d stepped out her door and caught the first glimpse of the fake baby. The log dropped on her foot and she let out a yelp. Was this one of the men who wanted her off her land?
    The rider did not speak, only raised blond eyebrows.
    She reached for the ax, gripping the handle with both hands. If this man had anything to do with that burlap dummy, he was most probably dangerous.
    The stranger raised his hands, one still holding the reins, indicating that he meant her no harm.
    Raising her chin, she eyed him warily, heart pounding in her chest. She licked her lips and tried to take a step back, but her foot was still pinned securely under the end of