Even so, Wyatt had the feeling Judd would have been gathering the berries for Greta regardless of whether she earned a penny for them. The older man had fallen for Astrid and Greta harder than a cowpoke getting grassed.

Wyatt’s attention drifted over Greta and landed upon her lips. Fire blazed to life, sparking the need to kiss her again. A need that had simmered low and steady over the past few weeks since Steele had pressured him into kissing her in front of everyone.

Ever since, Wyatt had steered clear of taking her near the man. Thankfully, Steele had gone back to Denver and hadn’t been around during the last visit to town.

As irritated as he was at Steele, he couldn’t deny how much he’d liked the kiss. Maybe it had started as a show, but it hadn’t ended that way. And now he couldn’t put it out of his mind no matter how hard he tried.

And boy, had he tried. He’d nearly worked himself to death to get it out of his system. But against all his best efforts not to dwell on the kiss or Greta, he only seemed to think about it and her more with each passing day.

Her lips curved up into a half smile in reaction to something Astrid was saying. Lips that were pretty, soft, and responsive. Yep. She’d most definitely kissed him back, almost as if she’d wanted to kiss him—which wasn’t possible, was it?

“Blast it all, McQuaid.” He forced his attention to the bundle of hay in front of him. “Quit losing your mind.”

They’d only been married a month. For now, he had to focus on friendship. That’s all.

And as far as he could tell, their friendship was progressing real well. While they’d worked together with the haying, they had plenty of conversations. She shared about her life on the Illinois farm, explained how consumption had taken her stepmother and young half brother during the last two years. Greta had fought hard to save them, but in the end they’d gotten weaker and sicker until they died. Now she felt responsible for Astrid, and traveling to the West had seemed like her last option.

Not only did she share with him, but she was a good listener. She didn’t poke or pry into his past but drew it out of him, and he’d found himself talking about his growing-up years and his family and how he was trying to make a new home for them.

He’d done more yammering with Greta in the little time he’d known her than he had with Judd in two years. There was just something right about her being here, and he was having a hard time remembering what life was like without her.