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she would somehow find a job and make it just fine on her own. The girls were almost big enough to watch over one another, and surely there were bookstores that needed employees, even in the West.
    Only now, she was pregnant again. Once Teagen figured out that there were no relatives coming from California, he’d probably ask her to leave. She might have enough money to live until the baby came if she could find someplace cheap, but how would she ever earn enough to feed four children?
    Jessie closed her eyes, refusing to allow tears to fall. She’d find a way. Maybe she could stay here a little longer than he’d offered. If she helped Martha, Teagen might not notice how much trouble she and the children were.
    She thought of the letter she’d written to him before she left Chicago. She’d been such a fool to think he’d take her and the kids just because she signed Eli’s name.
    “Mom?” a voice whispered. “What’s wrong?”
    Jessie looked down at her oldest, Emily, whose eyes had seen far too much sadness in her seven years of life. “Nothing, dear,” Jessie whispered. “I’m fine.”
    Emily’s stare didn’t look like she believed a word.
    Jessie hugged her, remembering back when she’d been nineteen and thought the birth of a child would make Eli love her. She’d spent her first pregnancy thinking that once the baby was born, he’d stop drinking and stay home, his family would accept her, and they’d have a life outside the bookstore walls.
    But it hadn’t happened. Eli had asked about her a few times during the pregnancy, griped when he thought she looked too thin. He even closed the store a few days near the end so she could rest. But the day she delivered, he’d been gone to the pub. She lay frightened and in labor for six hours before the baby crowned, then she delivered Emily alone.
    “Mom?” Em pulled away. “That man scares me. Mister frowns at me.”
    Jessie brushed Emily’s almost-white hair off her forehead and kissed her. “I’ll tell him to stop,” she promised. “Now, let’s help Martha with the breakfast dishes.”
    Emily didn’t budge. “Are you sure he won’t hurt me?”
    “I’m sure,” Jessie whispered. “If he does, I’ll flatten his head with one of those skillets Martha keeps hanging near the stove.”
    Emily’s thin body relaxed. “Promise?”
    “Cross my heart.” Jessie hugged her oldest. Of the three girls, Em was the only one who looked like Eli. His hair had been more sandy-yellow than white-blond, but his eyes had been the same shallow-water blue.
    As they walked to the kitchen, Jessie took a deep breath. She was finished running and hiding. It was time she learned to stand on her own two feet and take care of herself and her three daughters. Her children deserved something better than growing up in fear and worry.
    No . . . make that four.

CHAPTER 6
    TEAGEN WORKED WITH THE MARES IN THE SOUTH PASTURE all morning. He noticed a few looked close to dropping a colt, which reminded him of Jessie. There was probably nothing the same between delivering a baby and a horse having a foal, but still, he couldn’t help but think about it.
    First, Jessie was too thin, far too thin to be eating for two. Next, she had to rest more. Running after three kids in her condition couldn’t be easy. She might only be with him a few days, two weeks on the long side, but maybe he could pay Eli back for listening to his problems all those years by taking good care of his wife while she stayed at Whispering Mountain.
    When Teagen rode home, it was late as usual. He washed up in the mud room and changed into fresh clothes, then stepped into the kitchen. Jessie was there waiting for him.
    “You should be asleep,” he snapped, then frowned when she jumped.
    “Jessie?” he said in a lower tone, fearing she might still be ill. “Is something wrong?”
    When she raised her gaze to him, he thought he saw something different in her eyes. Determination, maybe. A strength he