Snowflake Bride
Snowflake Bride
Jillian Hart
Yuletide Cinderella Grateful when she’s hired as the Davises’ maid, Ruby Ballard vows to help save her family’s farm. There’s just one problem: the boss’s handsome son, Lorenzo. He makes her forget family duty, forget her lowly place, even forget her friends who are in love with him! But his love is a gift that could never be hers—not even for Christmas.Lorenzo knows Ruby is the only woman he could marry. Yet the quiet beauty refuses his courtship. As the holidays approach, he will make both their wishes come true, when he claims her at last as his snowflake bride.
Love Lost—and Found
Grateful when she’s hired as the Davises’ maid, Ruby Ballard vows to help save her family’s farm. There’s just one problem: the boss’s handsome son, Lorenzo. He makes her forget family duty, forget her lowly place, even forget her friends who are in love with him! But his love is a gift that could never be hers—not even for Christmas.
Lorenzo knows Ruby is the only woman he could marry. Yet the quiet beauty refuses his courtship. As the holidays approach, he will make both their wishes come true, when he claims her at last as his snowflake bride.In northwestern Montana, these friends stitch together their happily-ever-afters
She could feel the tug of his gaze and the gentle insistence of his presence.
She wanted to look at him. She really did. She wanted to gaze into his eyes and feel that click of closeness to him. To let him look deeper and let herself dream of having handsome Lorenzo Davis fall in mad love with her.
It wasn’t going to happen.
“Next harvest will be better,” he promised. “I’ll put it in my prayers.”
His smile drew her once again. Unable to resist, her eyes met his and the world faded. The jarring of the sleigh ceased. The cold vanished and there was only his sincerity, his caring and the quiet wish in her soul she could not give in to.
“We’re here.”
JILLIAN HART
grew up on her family’s homestead, where she helped raise cattle, rode horses and scribbled stories in her spare time. After earning her English degree from Whitman College, she worked in travel and advertising before selling her first novel. When Jillian isn’t working on her next story, she can be found puttering in her rose garden, curled up with a good book or spending quiet evenings at home with her family.
Jillian Hart
Snowflake Bride
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Therefore…put on tender mercies, kindness, humility, meekness, longsuffering; bearing with one another and forgiving one another…but above all these things put on love.
—Colossians 3:12–14
Contents
Chapter One (#u64f439af-bac0-597f-8256-b262f40ad0ba)
Chapter Two (#u3b37609b-3037-5749-a86b-e2c01446e0f0)
Chapter Three (#u043e9aaf-c501-57a9-bc35-fef9df667e2f)
Chapter Four (#u14e74e0c-378b-5ed1-8a91-000c0384633f)
Chapter Five (#u528692db-3270-5945-891e-1f83e1d74550)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
December 1884
Angel County, Montana Territory
Snowflakes hovered like airy dreams, too fragile to touch the ground. They floated on gentle winds and twirled on icy gusts. Not that she should be noticing.
“How long have you been standing here, staring?” Ruby Ballard asked herself. Her words were too small to disturb the vast, lonely silence of the high Montana prairie or to roust her from watching the beauty of white-gray sky and dainty flakes. They reminded her of the crocheted stitches of the doily she was learning to make.
“Your interview. Remember?” She blinked the snowflakes off her lashes and hiked up the skirts of her best wool dress. Time to give up admiring the loveliness and get her head in the real world. Pa often told her that was her biggest problem. Could she help it that God’s world was so lovely she was mesmerized into noticing it all the time?
“Focus, Ruby. You need this job. Badly.” Enough that she’d hardly prayed about anything else for days, ever since her dear friend Scarlet had told her about the opening. She quickened her pace up the Davis’s long, sweeping drive because Pa hadn’t been able to get any work in town so far this winter and her family was desperate.
Ping! The faint sound was at odds with the hush of the flakes plopping gently and the crunch of her shoes in the snow. A very suspicious sound. She glanced around, but there was nothing aside from fence posts and trees. The wind gusted and knifed through her shoe with the precision of a blade. Fearing the worst, she looked down.
A spot of her white stocking clearly peeked between the gaping leather tongue of her black left shoe. Her stomach dropped in an oh-no! way. She had lost a button. What kind of an impression was she going to make when Mrs. Davis, one of the wealthiest women in the county, noticed?
Ruby hung her head. She would look like the poor country girl she was. Not that she was ashamed of that, but she didn’t think it would help her get the job.
“Don’t panic. Stay calm.” First things first. She needed to find the button. How hard could it be to locate in all this white snow? It would surely stand out; she could pluck it up and sew it back on her shoe. Since this wasn’t the first time this sort of thing had happened, she carried thread and a needle in her reticule for emergencies. Problem solved. Job interview saved.
Except she couldn’t see the button—only pure, white snow in every direction. There was no sign of a hole where it had fallen through. Nothing. Now it was time to panic. If she couldn’t sew it back on, she needed to come up with another plan.
“Looking for something?” A warm baritone broke into her panic.
Ruby froze. She knew that voice. She’d heard it before when she’d overheard him talking with his family before or after church. She remembered that deep, kind timbre from the previous school year as he would answer the teacher’s questions or chat with his friends during recess.
Lorenzo Davis. Her heart stopped beating. Her palms broke out in a sweat. The panic fluttering behind her ribs increased until it felt as if a hundred hummingbirds were trapped there, desperate to escape. What did she do? She straightened, realizing she must look like an idiot.
A snow-covered idiot. She swiped the damp stuff off her face and spun to him. Try to be calm, Ruby, she told herself. Be dignified.
“Ilostashoebutton,” she said, the words tumbling off her tongue as if she were no more than a dummy. Honestly. The words had sounded just fine in her mind, but the instant they hit her tongue, they bunched together like overcooked oatmeal, and now she looked twice as stupid to the most handsome man in the territory.
Brilliant, Ruby. Just perfectly brilliant.
“Sorry, I missed that.” Lorenzo tipped his hat cordially, disturbing a slight layer of snowflakes that had accumulated on the brim. He looked like seven kinds of dashing as he rose from his sleigh. He had a classic, square-cut face, impressively wide shoulders and enough quiet charm to send every single young lady in town to dreaming.
That was one thing she was not dreaming about—Lorenzo Davis. She might not be as well-schooled as her friend Meredith or as well-read as her friend Lila, but she knew a man like him would never be interested in a plain girl like her or one who could embarrass herself so easily. Not only did she have a button missing, but she had to explain it to him—again—and pray this time she regained the power of speech, or he would think she had something terribly wrong with her.
“Oh, you have a button missing.” He strode toward her, a mountain of powerful male concern. She’d never realized how tall he was before, as she’d never been this close to him before or alone with him. She swallowed hard, realizing there was just the two of them and the veil of the falling snow for as far as she could see.
“Do you have any idea where you lost it?” His deep blue gaze speared hers with something that could have been friendly, but it was far too intense. “It’s a long way between here and your farm.”
“Ah, over here.” Thankful her command of the English language had returned, she felt silly pointing in front of her, where she had been looking when he’d driven up. His horse watched them curiously, blowing air out his nose and sending snowflakes whirling. “I’m afraid it’s gone for good.”
“I’m afraid you’re right. You may have to wait until spring to find it.” A slow grin accompanied his words. There was a reason most of the young ladies in Angel Falls had a crush on the man. When he smiled, good humor warmed a face that was already perfection and gave heart to his intense, dark blue eyes, the straight, strong blade of his nose and the hard, lean line of his mouth. His cheekbones were sharp enough to cut glass, and the uncompromising angle of his square jaw spoke of strength and character. He didn’t need his heart-stopping dimples, but they made him mesmerizing. Incomparable. The most handsome man ever.
“I better not wait until April for a button,” she quipped. “I should be going. Thanks for stopping.”
“Sure.” He tilted his head slightly to one side, as if he was studying her or trying to make up his mind about her.
So far, so good, she thought. She hadn’t said anything that she considered inane enough that it would haunt her for days. She tightened her grip on her reticule, nodded good day and set out like the dignified young lady she wished she could be.
Ping! Ping! Shoe buttons went flying and plunked into the snow right in front of Lorenzo.
How embarrassing. Now her stockings were really showing, plus she looked like someone who couldn’t afford sturdy shoes. Mrs. Davis was never going to hire her now. If she did, the woman might worry what other part of her new maid’s attire would fail next. And as for Lorenzo, he had to be thinking she was the most backward country girl he’d ever seen.
“Got one.” He bent quickly and neatly plucked something out of the snow. “Let’s see if I can hunt down the other.”
Mortified, she watched in horror. Dreamy Lorenzo Davis dug his leather-gloved fingers through the snow in search of her battered shoe button with the patience and care he would spend looking for a fallen gold nugget.
Don’t think about the patch in your shoes, she told herself. She’d carefully repaired the hole on her handed-down shoes from the church donation barrel and had oiled the leather carefully. At a distance, they could have been new, but up close, they had clearly seen better days. She feared she looked as secondhand as her shoes. Definitely not in Lorenzo’s class.
“Found it.” Triumphant, Lorenzo stood, all six feet of impressive male towering over her, and held out his hand. There, on his gloved palm, sat her buttons. “Are you interviewing with my mother this morning?”
“Yes. Thank you.” She plucked the buttons from him quickly, because she’d made her own mittens and they were a sad sight. She was only learning to knit and the uneven gage showed more than just a tad.
He didn’t seem to notice. “I know she’s looking for someone dependable. Her last kitchen maid eloped with the neighbor’s farmhand without giving notice, so Ma is particularly miffed about that. Mention you are as dependable as the sun, and she’ll hire you.”
She slipped the buttons into her coat pocket. His advice was nice, but why would he bother? “You’re giving me an advantage.”
“Guilty. It would be nice to see a friendly face around the house. I miss everyone from school. Don’t get me wrong, I love working on the ranch, but I spend more time with cows and horses than people.” Those dimples deepened and held her captive.
Surely a sign of impending doom. She could not let a handsome man’s dimples draw her in like that. What was wrong with her? She tried to hide her smile and stared at the toes of her shoes. She needed to repair her shoe in time for her interview. How could she do that while he watched? Surely, as nice and kind as he was, Lorenzo couldn’t help drawing conclusions.
Well, she was never going to be as stylish as her friend Scarlet, endearing like Earlee or poised like Kate. She couldn’t pretend otherwise. She could only loosen her reticule strings and fish around for the packet of needles and bobbin of thread.
“Let me drive you up to the house.” His warm offer startled her.
“D-drive me?” She nearly dropped the buttons.
“It will give you time to sew everything on. My mother will never suspect.” Kindly, he held out his hand, palm up, as an invitation. “You can sew while I drive.”
Did his unguarded blue eyes have to be so compelling? Veiled in the snow, he could have been a western legend come to life, too dreamy to be real and too incredible to be actually speaking to her.
Don’t do it, she decided. Her pa had raised her to be self-reliant. She was perfectly capable of walking the rest of the way. Besides, she was too shy to think of a thing to say to him on the drive. She should simply say no.
“C’mon. I’m not leaving without you. If you walk, I walk. Not that I mind, but Poncho might take offense.”
As if on cue, the beautiful bay blew out his breath like a raspberry, making his lips vibrate disparagingly.
“See?” Lorenzo chuckled, and the sound was warm and homey, like melting butter on a stove. “If Poncho is upset, he will take it out on me all day long. You don’t want that for me, do you?”
“No, as Poncho looks like a terror.” The terror in question reached over to lip his master’s hat brim affectionately. Even the horse adored him. “I suppose one short, little ride won’t hurt. It’s only so I can sew.”
“Of course. That’s the reason I asked.” Lorenzo’s assurance came quick and light.
He must offer rides to stranded young ladies all the time. He was a gentleman. It was nothing personal, which made it easier to lay her palm on his.
A current of awareness telegraphed through her with the suddenness of lightning striking. The sweet wash of sensation was like a hymn on a Sunday morning. A sweetness she had no business feeling, though it brought her a gentle peace. She didn’t remember stepping forward or climbing into the sleigh. Suddenly, she was on the seat with him settled next to her and the steel of his arm pressed against hers.
How was she going to concentrate enough to sew?
“What happened to the horse you usually ride?” He snapped the reins gently. Poncho stepped forward, although the gelding swiveled his ears back, as if he wanted to hear the answer, too.
“Solomon threw a shoe, and I didn’t dare ride him.” She leaned forward to work on loosening her laces.
“It’s a long way to walk. Three miles or more.”
“I don’t mind. It’s a beautiful morning.” Soft, platinum curls, fallen loose from her plaits, framed her heart-shaped face and fluttered in the wind.
“It’s a cold morning,” he corrected gently, but she didn’t seem to see his point as she tugged off her shoe, shook off any melting pieces of snow and set it on her lap. He tried to think of a woman he knew who would walk three miles on a morning like this because it was better for her old horse. “You must really want the chance at the kitchen job.”
“Yes. I’m sure I’m not the only one. Work is hard to find these days. Pa is always talking about the poor economy.” She unwound a length of thread from a small wooden spool, her long, slender fingers graceful and careful.
Wishing swept through him as he studied her profile. Long lashes framed her light blue eyes. Her nose had a sweet little slope, and her gentle, rosebud mouth seemed to always hold the hint of a smile. The way her chin curved, so delicate and cute, made him want to run the pad of his thumb along the angle to see if her skin felt as soft as it looked. Every time he gazed upon her, tenderness wrapped around him in ever-strengthening layers. He had a fondness for Ruby Ballard, but he suspected she did not have one for him.
The sting pierced him, but he tried not to let it show. Never, not once, had he caught her glancing his way. A few times, he’d spotted her in town, but she was busily chatting with her friends or running her errands and did not notice him.
Then again, he had never been alone with her, and she was fairly new to town. She’d arrived late in the school year last year. He remembered the day. How quiet she’d been, settling onto her seat in the back of the school room. She hadn’t made a sound, but he’d turned in his seat toward her, unable to stop himself. To him, she was like the first light of dawn, like the first gentle notes of a song and he’d been captivated.
“Everyone is talking about the poor economy,” he agreed. The low prices of corn and wheat this last harvest had been a disappointment to his family and a hardship to many others. He didn’t have to ask to know her family had been hard hit, too. “Did your father find work in town?”
“How did you know he was looking?” She glanced up from threading her needle. Wide, honest eyes met his with surprise. “How do you know my father?”
“He came by during the harvest, looking for work. We had already filled our positions, or I would have made sure he had a job.” He knew how fortunate his family was with their plentiful material blessings. He had learned a long time ago wealth did not equate to the goodness inside a person and that everyone was equal in God’s eyes. Having money and privilege did not make someone better than those without. God looked at the heart of a person, and he tried hard to do the same. When Jon Ballard had come to ask for employment with hat in hand, Lorenzo had seen a decent, honest, hard-working man. “I gave him a few good recommendations around town. I had hoped it helped.”
“It didn’t, but that was nice of you, Lorenzo.”
“It was no problem.” The way she said his name tugged at his heart. He couldn’t deny he was sweet on the woman, couldn’t deny he cared. He liked everything about her—the way she drew her bottom lip between her teeth when she concentrated, the care she took with everything, including the way she set the button to the shoe leather and started the first, hesitant stitch.
Snow clung to her in big, fat flakes of fragility, turning the knit hat she wore into a tiara and decorating her light, gossamer curls framing her face. Snowflakes dappled her eyelashes and cheeks until he had to fight to resist the urge to brush them away for her.
“In other words, you are in serious need of employment.” He kept his tone light but determination burned in his chest.
“Yes.” She squinted to draw her needle through the buttonhole a second time. “My brother has found work in Wyoming. Pa is considering moving there.”
“Moving?” Alarm beat through him. “Is there work for him there?”
“No, but he has the hope for it.” Her rosebud mouth downturned, she fastened all her attention on knotting her thread. “I would have to go with him.”
“I see.” His throat constricted making it hard to speak, harder to breathe. “You don’t want to go?”
Please, say no, he thought. His pulse leaped, galloping as if he’d run a mile full out. It seemed an eternity until she answered, her voice as sweet as the morning.
“I’m happy here. I wish to stay.” She bit off the thread and bent her head to re-knot it.
I wish that, too. It wasn’t exactly a prayer, he did not believe in praying for himself, so it was for her happiness he prayed. Give her the best solution, Lord, he asked. Please. He had no time to add any thoughts because a shadow appeared through the gray veil of the storm, which had grown thick, blotting out all sign of the countryside and of the lamp-lit windows of the house that should have been in sight.
Poncho gave a short neigh, already anticipating the command before it happened. Lorenzo tugged briefly on the right rein anyway as the gelding guided the sleigh neatly around the figure. A woman walked up the lane, her head covered with a hood and her coat shrouded with snow. She glanced briefly at them, but he could not recognize her in the downfall. His first inclination was to stop and offer her a ride, too, but then he wouldn’t be alone with Ruby. He felt Poncho hesitate, as if the horse was wondering why he hadn’t been pulled to a stop.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ruby, head down, intent on sewing the final button as fast as she could go. This was his one chance, his one shot to be alone with her. He hoped that she might see something in him she liked, something that might lead her to say hello to him on the street the next time they met or to smile at him across the church sanctuary on Sunday. He gave the reins a sharp snap so Poncho would keep going. Up ahead, another shadow rose out of the ever-thickening curtain as the storm closed in.
“There. Done,” Ruby said with a rush and stowed away her needle and thread. “Just in time, too. There’s the house.”
“It was good timing,” he agreed as he slowed the gelding in front of the portico. The tall, overhead roof served as a shelter from the downfall. While she leaned forward to slip on her shoe, he drank in the sight of her until his heart ached. He didn’t know why she opened a place inside of him, a deep and vulnerable room he had not known was there.
“That will have to do.” She shrugged, for a glimpse of her stocking still showed between the gap in the buttons. Her eyes had darkened a shade, perhaps with worry. She didn’t wait for him to offer his hand to help her from the sleigh but bounded out on her own.
That stung. He steeled his spine and straightened his shoulders, determined not to let the hurt show. She made a pretty picture circling around the back of the vehicle, her skirt snapping with her hurried gait. Snow sprinkled over her like powdered sugar. She couldn’t look any sweeter. His heart tugged, still opening up to her when he knew he ought to step back and respect that she didn’t feel a thing for him.
“Thank you, Lorenzo.” She stared down at her toes.
Was it his imagination, or did her soft voice warm just a tad when she said his name? The wind gusted, driving snow between them, and he couldn’t be sure. He cleared his throat, hoping to keep the emotion from his voice. “Glad I could help you out, Ruby.”
“Help me? You saved me. This way, your mother won’t see me sewing on my buttons in her entry.” She bobbed a little on her feet and lifted her eyes briefly to him. “Thank Poncho for me, too.”
“I will.” He rocked back on his heels, shocked by the impact of her gaze. Quick, gentle and timid, but his heart opened wider.
She was shy, he realized, which was different from not being interested in him. Her chin went back down, and she swept away like a waltz without music, like a song only he could hear.
Chapter Two
Ruby stared at the marble floor beneath her, where the snow melting from her shoes had left a puddle. A stern housekeeper in a black dress and crisp apron had taken her mittens, coat and hat and left her clutching her reticule by the strings and staring in wonder at her surroundings. The columns rising up to the high ceiling were marble, too, she suspected. Ornate, golden-framed paintings marched along the walls, which were wainscoted and coved and decorated with a craftsmanship she’d never seen before. She felt very plain in her best wool dress, which was new to her, being handed down from her older cousin. Very plain, indeed.
“Lucia tells me you are quite early.” A tall, lovely woman came into sight. Her sapphire-blue dress of the latest fashion rustled pleasantly as she drew near. “With this storm, I expected everyone to be a bit behind.”
“My pa has a gift for judging the weather, and he thought a storm might be coming, so I left home early.” Ruby grasped her reticule strings more tightly, wondering what she should do. Did she stand? Did she remain seated? What about the puddle beneath her shoes?
“Over an entire hour early.” Mrs. Davis smiled, and there was a hint of Lorenzo in the friendly upturned corners. She had warm eyes, too, although they were dark as her hair, which was coiled and coiffed in a beautiful sweeping-up knot. “Why don’t you come with me now, since everyone else is late? We can talk. Would you like some tea? You look as if you could use some warming up.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She stood, feeling the squish of her soles in the wetness. “But first, should I borrow something? The snow stuck in my shoe treads melted. I don’t want to make a mess.”
“Lucia will see to it. Don’t worry, dear. Come along.” Mrs. Davis gestured gently with one elegant hand. Diamonds sparkled and gold gleamed in the lamplight. “Come into the parlor.”
“Thank you.” Her interview was now? That couldn’t be good. She wasn’t prepared. She hadn’t recovered from being with Lorenzo. Her mind remained scrambled and his handsome face was all she could think of—the strong line of his shoulders, the capable way he held the reins and his kindness to her over the button disaster.
Pay attention, Ruby. She set out after Mrs. Davis. Squeak, went her right shoe. Creak, went her left. Oh, no. She stopped in her tracks but the woman ahead of her continued on and disappeared around a corner. She had to follow. Squeak, creak. Squeak, creak. She hesitated at a wide archway leading into the finest room she’d ever seen.
“Come sit across from me,” Mrs. Davis invited kindly, near to a hearth where a warm fire roared. “I hear you know my dear friend’s daughter.”
“Scarlet.” Squeak, creak. She was thankful when she reached the fringed edges of a finely woven rug. Her wet shoes were much quieter as she padded around a beautiful sofa. Squish, squish. She hesitated. Mrs. Davis was busy pouring tea from an exquisite china pot. The matching cups looked too fragile to actually drink from.
“I hear you girls went to school together.”
“Yes, although Scarlet graduated last May.” She knew the question would come sooner or later, so she might as well speak of it up front. “I haven’t graduated. I wasn’t ready.”
“Yes, I heard you did not have the chance for formal schooling before you moved to our town.” Mrs. Davis eased onto one sofa and gestured to the one across from her. “Do you like sugar, dear?”
“Please.” Her skirts were still damp from the snow, so she eased gingerly onto the edge of the cushion. She had to set her reticule down and stop her hands from shaking as she reached for the tea handed to her. Clink, clink. The cup rattled against the saucer. She didn’t know if she was still shaky with nerves over her encounter with Lorenzo or over her interview with his mother.
A little help please, Lord. She thought of her pa, who was such a good father. She thought of her brother, who worked so hard to send money home. For them.
“You must know my Lorenzo.” Mrs. Davis stirred sugar into the second cup. “You two are about the same age.”
“Yes, although we were not in the same crowd at school.” She didn’t know how to say the first time she’d ever spoken to the handsome young man had been today. He’d been terribly gallant, just as she’d always known he would be. He treated everyone that way.
She knew better than to read anything into it.
“Tell me what kind of kitchen experience you have.” The older woman settled against the cushions, ready to listen.
“None.” Already she could see failure descending. She took a small sip of the hot tea and it strengthened her. “I’ve never held a job before, but I am a hard worker. I’ve cooked and cleaned for my pa and my brother since I was small.”
“And your mother?”
“She passed away when I was born.” She tried to keep the wistfulness out of her voice, the wish for a mother she’d never known.
“And your father never remarried, even with young children?” Concern, not censure, pinched in the corners of the lovely woman’s dark eyes.
“No. He said his love for Ma was too great. I don’t think he’s ever stopped loving her.” Ruby shrugged. Did she turn the conversation back to her kitchen skills? She wasn’t sure exactly what a kitchen maid was required to do.
“The same thing happened to my father when I was born.” Mrs. Davis looked sad for a moment. She was striking and exotic, with her olive complexion and dark brown, almost-black eyes. Ruby thought she’d never seen anyone more beautiful. The older woman set her cup on her saucer with a tiny clink. “He raised me the best he could. In our home there were maids to do the work and a nanny to help, but nothing can replace the hole left behind when someone is lost. You prepare meals, then?”
“Yes.” Her anxiety ebbed. She’d seen the great lady in town and, of course, at church, and Mrs. Davis had always seemed so regal and distant. Ruby hadn’t expected to feel welcome in her presence. Hopeful, she found herself smiling. “I’m not sure what you are looking for, but I know how to clean, I know how to do what I’m told, and I follow directions very well.”
“That’s exactly what Scarlet told me.” Mrs. Davis smiled. “Whomever I hire will be expected to assist the cook, to help do all the cleaning of the pots and pans and the entire kitchen. Do you know how to serve?”
“No.” She wilted. “I’ve never done anything as fancy as that.”
“I see.” Mrs. Davis paused a moment, studying her carefully from head to toe. It was an assessing look and not an unkind one, but Ruby felt every inch of the inspection.
What did the lady see? The gap in her shoe buttons? The made-over, handed-down dress?
“What about your schooling?” The older lady broke the silence.
Ruby hung her head. She tried not to, but her chin bobbed downward of its own accord. “I am still attending this year. I had hoped to catch up and be able to graduate in the spring, but my home circumstances have changed.”
“And you need to work,” Mrs. Davis said with understanding.
“Yes.” She was not the best candidate for the job. She was probably not the type of young woman right for the position. It hurt, and she tried not to let it show. A blur of color caught the corner of her eye. She turned just an inch to see beyond the wide windows. Outside, a man made his way through the thick curtains of snow, a familiar man.
Lorenzo.
Don’t look, Ruby. But did her eyes obey?
Not a chance.
He lifted a leather-gloved hand in a brief wave, and the snap of connection roared through her like the crackling and cozy heat from the fireplace. Hard not to remember his kind advice to her.
“I am very reliable, Mrs. Davis.” She was content with who she was, and she let the fine lady see it. “I have good values, I know the importance of keeping promises, and I will do my best never to let you down. If you hire me, I will arrive early, I will stay late, and I will work harder than anyone else. I would never leave you in a lurch by not showing up when expected.”
“That’s nice to hear, dear.” Mrs. Davis smiled fully, and it was Lorenzo’s smile she saw, honest and good-hearted and kind. “Now, tell me a little more about your background.”
He’d timed it perfectly, he thought, grateful as he seized Poncho’s reins, thanked the horse for standing so long in his traces and gave the leather lines a snap. His heart twisted hard at the sight of Ruby slipping out of the front door and into the snow. Was he in love with her? He feared love was too small a word.
He loved a woman who hardly knew he existed. He’d pined after her whenever he’d seen her in town and long before that, during their final year of school together. Not once had she ever looked his way. Until today. She’d accepted a ride from him, she’d smiled at him, she’d given him the faintest ghost of a hope.
Time to put his heart on the line and see if the lady rejected him or if he had a chance with her.
That was one chance he wanted more than anything on this earth. The marrow of his bones ached with it, the depth of his soul longed for it. He snapped the reins, sending Poncho out of the shelter of the barn and into the fierce beat of snow and wind. But did he feel the cold? Not a bit. Not when he kept Ruby in sight, slim, petite, as sweet as those snowflakes falling.
“C’mon, Poncho,” he urged. “Don’t lose her.”
She walked at a good clip, bent into the wind. Her blue dress flashed beneath the hem of her coat and twisted around her ankles, trying to hamper her. But she kept on going without looking back. He saw nothing more of her as the gusts shifted, stealing her from his sight. The storm couldn’t stop the longing in his soul to see her again.
This was his chance to be with her. To try to get past her shyness and see if she could like him. His stomach knotted up with nerves as he snapped Poncho’s reins, urging him to hurry, although he could barely see his horse’s rump in the whiteout conditions. Surely Ruby couldn’t have gotten far.
Poncho seemed to understand the importance of the mission, for the mighty gelding pushed into the storm, parting the thickly falling snow. He walked right up to Ruby and stopped of his own accord. Lorenzo grinned. It was nice having his horse’s support.
“Poncho? Is that you?” Ruby’s whimsical alto drifted to him through the storm. He could see the faint outline of her, already flocked white. “It is you. So that means…” She hesitated. “Lorenzo? What are you doing out in this weather again?”
Her words may be muffled from the wind and snow, but they carried a note of surprise. As if she truly had no idea what he was up to.
“I have an errand, which will take me by your place.” He pulled aside the buffalo robe he’d taken from the tack room. “Would you like a ride?”
“Well…” She wavered, considering.
“It will be an awfully difficult walk with this drifting snow.” He’d tried over and over to stop his feelings for Ruby. An impossible endeavor. He braced himself for her refusal and tried one more time. “You may as well let Poncho do the hard work.”
She edged closer, debating, her bottom lip caught beneath her front teeth.
“I appreciate Poncho’s offer.” The hint of a smile tucked in the corners of her mouth deepened. “I suppose his feelings would be hurt if I turned him down?”
“Very. He’s the one who insisted on stopping. Apparently he’s taken a shine to you.”
“Well, I think he’s a very nice horse. He’s as gentlemanly as my Solomon.” She disappeared, perhaps believing it was the horse who cared for her and not the driver. Although he could no longer see her, the faint murmur of her voice as she spoke with the gelding carried on the wind. Just a syllable and a scrap of a sentence, and then she reappeared at his side. “Poncho talked me into accepting.”
“He can be persuasive.” Lorenzo held out his hand to help her settle onto the seat beside him. Her hand felt small against his own, and the bolt of awareness that rushed through him went straight to his soul. He wasn’t used to feeling anything this strongly. “Besides, a storm like this can turn into a blizzard, something you don’t want to be out walking in.”
“It would be no less dangerous to a horse and sleigh.” She settled against the cushioned seat back. “I wonder why you would venture out. Surely there isn’t much ranching work this time of year?”
“I never said it was ranch work.” He tucked the buffalo robe around her, leaning close enough to catch the scent of honeysuckle. The vulnerable places within him tugged, defenseless against her nearness. He didn’t know why his heart moved so fast, determined to pull him along. He could not stop it as he gathered the reins, sending Poncho forward.
“In my worry over my shoe and my interview, I forgot to ask you. I heard your father was injured a while back. How is he?”
“He’s still recovering.” Lorenzo did his best not to let his anger take hold at the outlaws who had taken up residence west of town last summer and stolen a hundred head of cattle in a gun battle. “My father wasn’t as fortunate as the others the outlaw gang shot. He was hit in the leg bone and the back. He’s still struggling to walk with a cane.”
“I’m so sorry.” Sympathy polished her, making her inner beauty shine. Her outer beauty became breathtaking, so compelling he could not look away. Soft platinum locks breezed against the curving slope of her cheeks and the dainty cut of her jaw. “I noticed he wasn’t coming to church, but I didn’t know he was still struggling with his injuries. I don’t get to town much.”
“It’s not something Pa wants everyone to know. He’s a private man.” He adored his father. Gerard Davis was a proud and stubborn Welshman who could have lived leisurely on his inherited wealth but chose to put his life to good use by ranching on the Montana frontier. Lorenzo hoped he took after his pa.
“I won’t mention it, but I do intend to pray for him.” Her hands clasped together within the rather lumpy mittens made of uneven stitches. They looked twisted somehow, as if they had not faired well through a washing. But her earnest concern shone in her voice. “I hope he has a full recovery. I know how difficult it is for a man used to providing for his family when he is too injured to work.”
“It is tough on a man’s pride.”
“When I was little, Pa had an accident on our farm. A hay wagon overturned on him, and he was crushed. He was working alone and no one found him until my brother came with the mid-afternoon water jug. Rupert was too young to help free him. All he could do was run to the neighbors over a mile away.”
“I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” Interesting that they had this in common. He thought of the humble, quiet man who had begged him for a job. “He obviously recovered.”
“It took many years. We feared losing him at first. The doctor didn’t know how he survived. A true proof of grace,” she added, staring down at her misshapen mittens. “God was very good in letting us keep our pa. I don’t know what Rupert and I would have done if we’d lost him, too, so I understand what you might have gone through.”
“Worry, mostly. For a while we feared Pa might not walk again. Doc Frost said it was grace, too, that he’s up on his feet.”
“Grace is everywhere, when you look for it.”
“And when you need it most.” It was so easy to talk to her about what really mattered. Did she feel the same way? “How long ago was your pa injured?”
“I was five years old.” The sleigh bounced in a rut as Poncho turned onto the country road. She lifted a mittened hand to swipe snow out of her eyes. She felt closer somehow. Like they were no longer strangers.
“You were five? That must have been hard on your family.”
“Yes. Pa was laid up so long, we lost our crop. We couldn’t pay the doctor bills. Then we lost our land and our house, and we couldn’t pay any of the other bills, either. The bank took everything but Solomon. Rupert worked long days in a neighbor’s field to earn the money to keep him.”
“Did you have any other family to help?”
“My uncle and his wife finally took us in. It was a long spell until Pa was able to work again, and he was determined to pay back every cent of his debts still outstanding.”
“Most folks would have walked away. So your family was never able to get ahead?”
“It was a hardship paying off the debts, but it was the right thing.”
“Doing the right thing matters.” His dark blue eyes deepened with understanding. “It’s worth whatever the cost.”
“Exactly.” When her gaze met his, her heart beat as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. It mattered that he understood honor. So many hadn’t. Probably because he had honor of his own. She blushed, because it would be so easy to like him, to really like him. Just as it would be to read more into his act of kindness in offering her this ride.
“Your family owns land now, so your father must have paid off his debts.” He broke his gaze away to rein Poncho to keep him on the hard-to-see road. Even speckled with snow, Lorenzo’s handsomeness shone through.
Not that she should be noticing.
“Yes. Pa managed to save up enough for a mortgage, although we had to pay a lot of money down.” She picked at a too-tight stitch in her right mitten to keep from looking at him again. Not looking at him was for the best. “It is good to have our own land, but it’s only a hundred acres.”
“A hundred acres of untilled land. Let me guess. Your first harvest wasn’t as good as it could have been. A first crop on new land is always a small one.”
“And on top of that, most of our crop was damaged by a summer storm.” She blushed, still picking at the stitch. She could feel the tug of his gaze, the gentle insistence of his presence, and she wanted to look at him. But she was afraid of coming to care too much.
“Next harvest will be better,” he promised. “As long as there isn’t a drought or a twister or a flash flood.”
“Or another hailstorm,” she chimed in lightly. “Farming doesn’t come with a guarantee, but it would be a great blessing to have a good harvest, if we manage to stay on. My pa and brother work so hard. It would be a comfort for them.”
“Then I’ll put it in my prayers.”
His smile drew her gaze. Unable to resist, her eyes met his, and the world faded. The jarring of the sleigh ceased. The cold vanished, and there was only his sincerity, his caring and the quiet wish in her soul.
Don’t give in to it, Ruby. Don’t start dreaming.
“Here we are.” He tugged on the reins, Poncho drew to a stop. How had three miles passed so quickly?
“Why, young Mr. Davis.” Pa’s voice came from far away, stupefied. He gripped a pitchfork in one gloved hand, emerging from the small barn. “Ruby, is that you?”
“Yes, Pa.” Reality set in. She pushed off the buffalo robe and grabbed up her reticule. Snow slapped her cheeks as she tried to scramble out of the sleigh.
“Allow me.” Lorenzo caught her hand. His warmth, his size, his presence overwhelmed her. Her breath caught. She forgot every word of the English langage. Her knees wobbled when she tried to stand on them. Little flashes of wishes filled her, but she tamped them down as he withdrew his hand.
“What are you doing on this side of the county?” Pa asked, curiously. “Looking at the property for sale down the way?”
“Not in this weather.” Lorenzo released her hand. “I wanted to make sure Ruby got home safe in this storm. I hear you have a horse with a shoe problem. I happen to have my tools in the back of the sleigh. If you wouldn’t mind, I can take care of that problem for you.”
Her jaw dropped. She stared, stunned, as Pa led the way to the barn, taking Poncho by the bridle bits. All she could see was the straight strong line of Lorenzo’s wide shoulders through the storm until the thick curtain of snow closed around him, leaving her standing alone on the rickety, front doorstep of their lopsided shanty. That Lorenzo Davis. He was being charitable, that was all, but her heart would never forget.
Chapter Three
“And he went into the barn with your father?” Kate peered through dark lashes, astonished as she sorted through her embroidery floss.
“And he re-shod Solomon for you?” Newlywed Lila looked up from stitching on a new shirt for her husband. “Out of the blue, just like that?”
“Without being asked.” The tea kettle rumbled, so Ruby set aside her crocheting. The wooden chair scraped against the wood floor as she rose. It was a tight squeeze to have all seven of them in the front room, but it was warm and cozy, and she loved having the chance to host their sewing circle. “You could have knocked me down with a feather, I was so shocked. I guess this proves the rumors true. Young Mr. Davis is as nice as a man can be.”
“That’s what we have been trying to tell you.” Red-headed Scarlet set down her tatting to get up to help with the tea. “He’s amazing. That’s why we have all been in love with him at one time or another.”
“Not all of us,” Fiona corrected as she stitched on baby clothes. Her wedding ring winked in the lamplight as her needle slipped into a seam. The pleats of her dress hid the small bowl of her pregnant stomach. “I’ve always thought Lorenzo was nice, but I was never smitten.”
“Not even a little?” Ruby set the tea to steeping in the old ironware pot. “Lorenzo is terribly handsome. Are you sure you didn’t like him at all?”
“I’m positive.” Fiona’s smile came so easily.
“He adored you from afar. We all saw it,” Scarlet added, taking a knife to the johnnycake cooling on the nearby table.
“You broke his heart when you married Ian. Don’t deny it.” Earlee gave her golden curls a toss as she looked up from basting an apron ruffle. When she smiled, the whole world smiled, too. “If I were penning a story about him, I would have him fall in love with one of you three. A sweet, gentle love with lots of longing and a perfect happily-ever-after.”
A perfect happily-ever-after. Didn’t that sound romantic? She tamped down her sigh right along with the memory of riding alongside Lorenzo in the sleigh. Her hands shook as she carried the pot and the stack of battered, mismatched tin cups to the circle of chairs in the sitting area.
“It sounds like a story I would read,” Lila quipped, the voracious reader of the group. “So, Earlee, who would you match up with Lorenzo?”
“Me!” Kate spoke up before Earlee could as she separated a thin strand of embroidery floss from a green skein. “I would be perfect for him.”
“True,” Meredith agreed, head bent over her latest patchwork quilt block. “Except doesn’t he spend a lot of time with Narcissa Bell?”
“Oh,” they all sighed together. Narcissa had been their arch nemesis for as long as anyone could remember.
“I suppose it’s only a matter of time before we hear of their engagement.” Kate licked the end of the floss and threaded it through the eye of her needle. “It’s inevitable.”
“It’s expected,” Lila agreed. “To hear my stepmother talk, their engagement party will be any day now.”
“They are both from wealthy families.” Ruby couldn’t explain why pain hitched through her ribs.
“And their mothers are close friends,” Earlee chimed in.
“But so are Scarlet and his mother.” She lowered the pot to rest on the short end table Pa had made, which now sat in the center of their circle, a coffee table of sorts. Her hands shook inexplicably. She wasn’t disappointed, so no way could that be disappointment weighing like a lead brick on her heart.
“Yes, but Lorenzo and I don’t keep the same friends.” Scarlet bent over her work, knife in hand. “Did you see Narcissa and Lorenzo at church on Sunday?”
“Sitting side by side.” Kate gave a long-suffering sigh. “Right there in the middle of their families.”
Ruby hadn’t noticed because she didn’t have a crush on the man. She couldn’t afford to have one. Romance was not in her plans. She didn’t have time for it. She wasn’t free to pursue her own life. Her father and brother needed her to help save the farm. And besides, if their efforts failed, she would have to leave town.
She wasn’t exactly the best candidate for romance. Not for any man. As for Lorenzo, he was a dream she didn’t dare have. So why did she ache down to the marrow of her bones as she crossed the room? She couldn’t focus on the conversation surging around her, the laughter and friendly banter ringing like merry bells. She lifted down a stack of mismatched plates.
“How did the interview go?” Scarlet lowered her voice, so the others wouldn’t hear. She cut the final slice of johnnycake.
“Good, but I’m not right for the position. Mrs. Davis is awful fancy. Nice, but fancy.” She set the butter dish next to the plates on the table. She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter that she wouldn’t get the job. “I would be totally uncomfortable in that house. I’d worry about everything—leaving dirt from my shoes on the floor, turning around and knocking some expensive doodad to the ground, spilling something on those beautiful carpets. What a relief I’m not suitable.”
“That’s too bad. I thought you would be perfect. My mother said so right to Mrs. Davis. I heard her.”
“Thanks, Scarlet. I appreciate it more than you know.”
“So, does this mean your family will have to move?”
“I think so, since I won’t be getting that job.”
“I’m so sorry, Ruby.”
“Me, too.” She wished she felt comfortable saying more, but she wasn’t good at expressing her feelings. They made her feel awkward and exposed, but she knew Scarlet understood. Best friends had that ability.
The cornmeal’s sweet, warm scent and aroma of melting butter had her mouth watering. She’d been too nervous to eat all of her breakfast, fearing the interview and too unsettled to eat lunch afterwards. Leftover nerves from meeting Mrs. Davis and not because of her encounter with Lorenzo.
At least, that’s what she told herself.
“So, what happened after he fixed Solomon’s shoe?” Earlee asked, setting down her work to come help distribute the cake. “Did you offer him a nice, hot cup of tea?”
“And then lunch?” Lila inquired.
“And afterwards, a nice, long chat around the table?” Kate knotted the end of her thread.
“You did invite him in, didn’t you?” Scarlet asked, two plates of cake in hand.
“Well, no. It wasn’t like that. He and Pa were visiting in the barn.”
“Did you even go out there?” Fiona set her sewing aside to accept a plate of cake.
All eyes turned on her.
“No. Why would I? I’m not as brazen as the bunch of you.”
Laughter flourished, echoing off the walls cheerfully. She couldn’t very well admit that she’d kept an eye on the window, glancing out from time to time, straining to see a glimpse of Lorenzo through the snow. She hadn’t. She’d only spotted her father stomping the wet off his boots on the lean-to steps. He’d been alone.
“Next time, go out with a nice hot cup of tea for him,” Meredith advised.
“And some of this cake,” Earlee added. “If he takes one bite of this, he just might propose.”
“Oh, I doubt that.” She retrieved the last plate from the table, but her stomach had bunched in knots. She was no longer hungry. “He drove off without a word to me, but Pa was mighty pleased with the shoeing job. I’m surprised Pa accepted his charity.”
“Maybe he did it for you, Ruby.” Scarlet sounded thoughtful as she brought the last plates of cake into the sitting area.
“For me? No. Don’t even start thinking that.” She had best forget the snap of connection when Lorenzo had taken her hand. Wishful thinking on her part, that was all it could be. “I have Pa to care for. He’s the only man in my life. Besides, Lorenzo has Narcissa. Who can compete with that?”
“I wouldn’t mind trying,” Scarlet spoke up, making everyone laugh.
Ruby settled into a chair, laughing with her friends. How much time would they have together? She didn’t know. That question haunted her as talk turned to other handsome bachelors in town. If one particular bachelor lingered in her thoughts, she didn’t have to admit it.
Lorenzo leaned back against the chair cushion, grateful to be sitting in front of a warm fire at the end of a tough afternoon. Half frozen, he soaked in the fire’s blazing heat, hoping to thaw. After returning from Ruby’s home, he’d saddled up and resumed his afternoon shift in the fields, checking cattle, hauling feed and taking a pickax to the animals’ water supply, which had frozen up solid.
Ruby. Thoughts of her could chase away the cold. He stretched his feet toward the fire. He still didn’t know what his chances were, but she’d been easy to talk to. He would like to talk with her some more. But what were the chances of that if she didn’t get the maid’s position? She kept to herself, she lived on the other side of town, and their paths rarely crossed. He didn’t want to go back to sneaking gazes at her in church because his mother or one of her friends were going to catch him at it, and then his secret love for Ruby would no longer be private.
“Hot tea for you.” The upstairs maid was doubling her duties and slid a tray onto the table at his elbow with a bobbing curtsy. “Cook added some of those scones you like.”
“Thank you.” He didn’t wait for her footsteps tapping on the polished oak floor to fade before he wrapped his hand around the scalding hot cup. He was so cold, he could barely feel the warmth. He blew on the steaming brew before he sipped it. Hot liquid slid down his throat, warming him from the inside. The first step to thawing out.
Ruby. His thoughts boomeranged right back to her. Why her? Her big, blue eyes, her rosebud smile, her sweetness had snared him the instant he’d laid eyes on her. He didn’t want to feel this way, he wasn’t ready to feel this way. He had a lot to learn about ranching, he had a lot to prove as his father’s foreman. And responsibility? That was a huge burden on his shoulders these days. He was in charge of providing for the family and preserving the Davis legacy. No, this wasn’t the time to be smitten with anyone.
But his heart kept falling in love with Ruby a little more day by day, taking him with it. He couldn’t stop it. He wouldn’t if he could. He wanted Ruby to be his fate, the destiny God had in store for him.
“Lorenzo.” His mother swept into the room. “Look at you. You were out in that weather too long.”
“I’m tough.” He’d learned from his father not to let excuses stand in the way. “Work needed to be done, so I did it.”
“Yes, but you’ve gotten frostbite.” She hauled a footstool close and tried to look at his hands.
“Nothing serious.” He refused to surrender his teacup. “No fussing, Ma. I’m not twelve anymore.”
“You are my only son.” She smiled, attempting to hide her weariness.
“How did the interviewing go?”
“So many women showed up for one opening. My heart goes out to them all. Every one of them was in sincere need of employment.” She swept a strand of black hair from her eyes, troubled and worried as she always was for other people. “I can only choose one. I feel bad for all the others. What will they do?”
He thought of Ruby, of her very humble home, her unreliable shoes and her situation. Her family clearly needed the income her employment would bring. He suspected many of the others who had come during a brisk, winter storm were in as much need. “I don’t have an answer. I’ve had the same worries ever since I took over the hiring for the ranch. Have you decided on anyone yet?”
“I’ve narrowed it down to a short list, but how to decide from there? I do not know.” She stole a corner off one of his scones and popped it into her mouth. “One of them was a young lady about your age. You went to school with her.”
“Ruby.” His mother didn’t miss much. He tried to hide his reaction by taking a quick swallow of tea. The scalding liquid rolled over his tongue, nearly blistering him. He coughed, sputtering.
“Oh, I see.” His mother paused thoughtfully. “She seemed like a nice girl.”
“Nice? I suppose.” As if he was going to tell his mother what he really thought. Fortunately, he had a burning tongue to distract him. “She would be a reliable worker.”
“Yes. I thought she was very earnest, but she has no experience.”
“She could learn.” He hoped he sounded casual, not like a man hoping. He wanted Mother to hire her and make a difference in her life. “She takes care of her family. She does the cooking and cleaning. That’s experience, right?”
“I suppose.” His mother rose. “I have some pondering to do. So, have you thought about who you want to invite to our pre-Christmas ball? It’s getting closer, and I have yet to get out the last of my invitations.”
“And you’re mentioning this to me why, exactly?” He sipped more tea, taking refuge behind the cup. Had he made a strong enough case for Ruby’s sake? He couldn’t tell by the look on his mother’s face.
“Because I’ll want to know so I can send the young lady an invitation. It’s time you started thinking about a wife. I’m looking forward to the next Davis generation.”
“You mean grandchildren?”
“Of course.” His mother laughed, delighted. “I see that blush. It’s as I thought. You have your eye on someone, and I know who.”
“You do?” Tea sloshed over the rim. His heart slammed to a stop. Fine, so he’d been a little obvious. “I admit, I do have someone in mind.”
“Excellent. You know the Bells are on my guest list anyway, but I wanted to send a special one to Narcissa.” Poor, misguided Ma. She’d leaped to the wrong conclusion.
“I’m not escorting Narcissa.” Not again. “Normally I let you do what you want, but not this time, Ma.”
“Why?” Confused, his mother slipped onto the chair across from him. “I thought all that time you two spend together meant something.”
“Mostly arranged by you or her mother. It’s very hard to say no to either one of you.”
“Yes, but she sits beside you in church every Sunday.”
“Coincidence on my part. I’m thinking intentionally on hers and her mother’s.”
“I’m terribly disappointed.”
“Of course you want me to marry your best friend’s daughter, Ma, but that’s not going to happen. We’re just friends.”
“I see. Well then, who? There’s plenty of suitable young women in town. Surely her family is on my list?”
“I’ll take care of inviting her myself.” Just as he’d suspected. This was going to be a disappointment to his mother. He was sorry for it. He hated letting her down. He thought of Ruby. How would his parents handle it if they knew the truth?
“I think I hear your father coming. Oh, Jerry, it’s you.”
“Selma, there you are.” Pa’s cane tapped on the hardwood, and although he winced in pain with every step, he transformed when he saw his wife. “I see you are keeping our boy company. You did great work today, Renzo.”
“I did my best.”
“Can’t ask for anything more than that. You’re doing a fine job. Better than your old man can do.” His father’s chest puffed out, full of pride, as he slowly limped across the room. “I’m obsolete.”
“Never you, Pa. I can’t wait to hand you back the reins.” Even as he said the words, they all knew they were only a wish. Gerard Davis had been injured far too badly to ever return to the rigors of ranching work. In deference to his father’s hopes, he shrugged lightly. “I miss being bossed around by you.”
“I miss doing the bossing. But I get my fill on a daily basis. What’s this I overheard about your escorting a young gal to our ball? Selma, I thought we agreed you wouldn’t push the boy.”
“I wasn’t pushing, merely suggesting.” His mother sounded confused as she held out her arms and wrapped them around her husband. The pair cuddled, glad to see each other after being separated for much of the day. “I want to see Lorenzo settled.”
“Yes, dear, but he has enough new responsibility to manage. This ranch is the largest in the county. Renzo ought to be concentrating on learning all there is to know about our land, crops and animals.”
“He’s doing a fine job. Goodness.” Ma’s gentle amusement rang in her chuckle as she gave her husband one final hug. She swept backward, love lighting her eyes. “Gerard, I don’t see why Lorenzo needs to hold off. You managed to run a ranch and court me at the same time.”
“Yes, but I wasn’t barely twenty years old. Renzo’s mature for his age, but I don’t want him distracted. I know how distracting a pretty lady can be.” Pa winked, always the charmer, and Ma blushed prettily.
Ruby was definitely distracting. She was all he could see—snowflakes sifting over her to catch in her hair, big, blueberry eyes shyly looking away, the blush on her heart-shaped face when he’d taken her hand in his to help her from the sleigh.
This wasn’t the right time in his life, and his parents wouldn’t like it, but his heart was set. Nothing could stop it.
“Renzo? Where did you take off to this morning?” Pa leaned heavily on his cane, tapping closer. “Was there a problem I didn’t know about?”
“My trip wasn’t ranch related.” His pulse skipped a beat. What else had his father seen?
“He drove past the window and picked up one of the applicants. He must have taken her home.” Pa’s tone gentled. “She looked like a dear. That Ballard girl, I think. I know her father from church. He’s a good man.”
“The poor girl.” Ma settled onto the sofa, compassionate as always. “My heart aches for her. Being both daughter and woman of the house. They must be as poor as church mice. I’ve seen her getting clothes out of the church’s donation barrel. It was all I could do not to rush up and give her a big hug when she was here.”
Please, he thought. Please give her a chance. A job would mean she could stay in town. That he would have a hope of winning her.
“Selma, I know that look.” Pa chuckled as he eased painfully onto the cushion beside his wife. “Son, something tells me your mother has just made up her mind about the new maid.”
“Those friends of yours are sure nice girls.” Pa knocked snow off his boots on the doorstep. “You all seemed to have a good time.”
“We did.” She doused the last tin cup in the rinse water, glad to see her father back safely from town. Since Solomon’s shoe was fixed, there had been errands needing to be done. “We always have great fun together, and I got a lot of help with my crocheting.”
“That’s nice, Ruby-bug.” He shouldered the door closed against the whirling flakes, and the cold followed him in as he unloaded the groceries he’d bought on the far end of the table. It wasn’t much—a bag of beans, a package of tea, small sacks of cornmeal and oatmeal—but she was grateful for it. When Pa swept off his hat, he looked more tired than usual. “I’m glad you made friends here.”
“Me, too.” She rubbed the dishtowel over the mug, drying it carefully. With each swipe, she felt her stomach fall a notch. Had her father stopped by the post office? Was there a letter from Rupert? Her brother had been hoping to send news of a job.
Sorrow crept into Pa’s eyes, and he sat down heavily on a kitchen chair. “I didn’t want to say anything to you earlier, but I had chance for work in town, unloading cargo at the depot. It went to someone else. A younger man.”
“Oh, Papa.” She set down the towel and the cup and circled around to his side. He was a proud man, a strong man, but hardship wore on him. He fought so hard to provide for them, and had struggled for so long. Just when it looked as if life was going to get easier, the storm had hit. Without a crop, there had been no income, and they were back to desperation again.
How little of their meager savings remained? She placed a hand on his brawny shoulder. He was such a good man, and love for him filled her up. They did not have much, but they had what they needed. They had what mattered most.
“I got a letter from Rupert.” Her father rubbed his face, where worry dug deep lines. “He sent money.”
That explained the groceries. She hated seeing Pa like this. He’d always been invincible, always a fighter, even when he’d been injured. Every memory she had of him was one of strength and determination. He’d always been a rock, the foundation of their family, who never wavered.
Not tonight. He looked heart-worn and hopeless. Like a man who was too weary to fight. The shadows crept visibly over him as the daylight dimmed. Sunset came early this time of year, and she needed to light a candle, to save on precious kerosene, but she could not leave her father’s side, not when he bowed his head, looking beaten.
Was their situation far worse than he’d told her? She bit her bottom lip, knotted up with worry. Pa did have a habit of protecting her. If only she could have gotten the job. She winced at the dismal interview she’d had, the squeaky shoes, the rattling teacup, her lack of experience and polish. “I will scour the town tomorrow, Pa. There has to be something I can do. Sweep floors, do laundry at the hotel, muck stalls at Foster’s Dairy.”
She would beg if she had to. Her father and brother had been carrying too much burden for way too long. She ached for them, struggling so hard against odds that turned out to be impossible. The dream of owning their own land and being farmers again was fading. At this point in Pa’s life, it would likely be gone forever. She knelt before him and laid her hand on his. “I can be persuasive. I will talk someone into hiring me. Please don’t worry so much.”
“Oh, my Ruby.” Pa cupped her face with both of his big, callused hands, making her feel safe. “You are a good girl. I’m afraid the news in Roop’s letter wasn’t good.”
“He found you a job, and we have to leave after all.” She squeezed her eyes shut for just one brief moment to hide the stab of pain ripping through her. It was selfish to want to stay when it was a burden for her family, so she firmed her chin. “This will be better for you. A job. Think what this will mean.”
“No, honey, there isn’t a job. Roop lost his. The mill closed down. It’s gone out of business. He’s coming home without his last two paychecks. The company promised but in the end couldn’t pay him.” Pa looked far too old for his years as he squared his shoulders, fighting to find enough internal strength to keep going. “It’s a blow, but I don’t want you worrying, Ruby. You must stay in school.”
“I won’t do it.” She brushed a kiss on her father’s stubbled cheek. “You know me. When I set my mind to something, nothing but God can stop me.”
“And even He would give pause before trying,” Pa quipped, the love in his eyes unmistakable. “We have to trust Him to see us through this. He’s watching over us.”
“I know, Pa.” She whirled away to light a candle or two, thankful for the bountiful summer garden she’d been able to grow. Selling extra vegetables to the stores in town had given her enough pocket money to make plenty of candles and soap to see them through the winter. It was a small thing to have contributed, but she’d been proud to do it. The warmth of her friends’ laughter lingered in the home, making it less bleak as she struck a match.
Encouraged, she watched the wick flare, and the light chased back the shadows. She shook out the match, shivering as the wind blew cold through the walls. Faith was like a candle dispelling the darkness, and she lit another, determined to believe they could make their upcoming mortgage payment, that they would not be homeless by Christmas.
Chapter Four
The snow whirled on a bitter night’s wind as Lorenzo guided his horse and sleigh down the drift-covered driveway. Lanterns mounted on the dashboard of the sleigh cast just enough light to see the dark yard and front step of the shanty. Poncho drew to a stop before the doorway. Ruby’s doorway.
Her adorable presence stayed with him like a melody, and a smile stretched the corners of his mouth as he climbed from beneath the robes. His boots crunched in the snow, icy flakes stung his face, but he kept going, untouched, seeing Ruby through a crack between the curtains.
She sat in a wooden chair, holding a crochet needle and thread up to a single candle’s light to make a slow, careful stitch. Her platinum hair gleamed golden-silver. Her heart-shaped face, flushed from the heat of the fire and caressed by the candlelight could have belonged to a princess in a fairy tale. Wholesome and good, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Captivated, he knocked snow off his hat as it continued to fall.
The muffled tap of footsteps tore his attention away from Ruby. Jon Ballard ambled into sight inside the house, reminding Lorenzo of his mission. He had a message for Ruby, one that would make her life easier. He took the few snowy steps to the front door and knocked. His pulse rattled against his rib cage. He was suddenly nervous, anxious with the anticipation of seeing her again.
The door swung open, and her father stood inside the threshold, surprise marking his lined face, proof of how hard the last few months had been for the family. “Young Mr. Davis, is that you again? What are you doing out on these roads this time of evening?”
“I’m on another errand. My father wanted to send one of the hired men, but I volunteered.” His gaze arrowed straight to her. Her crochet work had fallen to her lap. She stared at him with worry crinkling her forehead. Worry. He hated it. He squared his shoulders, glad he could fix that. He pulled the folded parchment from his pocket. “I have a letter for Ruby. From my mother.”
“For me?” She set aside her needle and thread, rose to her feet, and every movement she made was endearing—the pad of her stockinged feet on the floor, the rustle of her skirt, the twist of her bottom lip as she swept closer. The place she had opened within him opened more, widening his heart.
Vaguely, he was aware of Jon stepping back, disappearing from sight. Ruby remained at the center of his senses. Ruby, wringing her slender hands. Ruby, in a very old, calico work dress, the color faded from so many washings. The careful patches sewed with tiny, even stitches were too numerous to count. As she stepped into the puddle of nearby candlelight, her beauty and goodness outshone everything.
“It was nice of you to come so far in this cold.” Shy, she lowered her gaze from his. “Just to tell me I didn’t get the job.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because the interview was a disaster. The missing button, my wet shoes, I dripped all over the floor, I was completely wrong for the position.” Pink flushed her cheeks and her nose, making her twice as sweet. “I’m sorry you had to drive so far in this weather. Your mother could have posted the letter.”
“I suppose.” This was why he’d come so far in frigid temperatures. So he could see the happiness chase away the worry from her big, beautiful eyes. “Ma wants you to start working for her first thing Monday morning. Will that be a problem?”
“What?” Her jaw dropped. Disbelief pinched adorably across her sweetheart face. “I couldn’t have gotten the job. I have no experience.”
“My mother liked you, so she’s hired you.” He held out the envelope. “Here are the specifics.”
“Really? Oh, Pa, did you hear?” She took the parchment. Delight chased away the worry lines, put blue sparkles into her irises and drew a beautiful smile. “I got the job. I got it.”
“I’m mighty proud of you, Ruby-bug.” Jon Ballard’s love shone in his voice, love for his precious daughter.
Lorenzo thought she was precious, too.
“Oh, thank your mother for me. I mean, I will thank her on Monday, too, when I see her. But, oh, just thank you.” She clutched the letter tight until it crinkled.
“I will tell her. Your interview went better than you thought.”
“But how? It’s a complete and total mystery.”
“No mystery.” His reassurance held notes of humor and kindness. “You deserve this, Ruby. My mother wants you to start at six o’clock sharp.”
“I’ll be there early, just like I promised.” This was too good to be true. She’d been so sure she had failed, that it was impossible, and yet here she was, an employee. She had her first job, she would be earning a wage. A real wage. Joy bubbled through her, impossible to contain. She had a job! “I hope I don’t break anything. Or spill something. I don’t know anything about serving.”
Good going, Ruby. Point out to your employer’s son exactly how much of a mistake his mother had made. She laughed. “I’m so happy and anxious and everything.”
“I understand.” The deep shine of his dark blue gaze met hers, sincere and powerful enough to knock the beat out of her heart. Her happiness dimmed, her soul stilled as he tipped his hat, and she could not look away. She could see the shadow of day’s growth on his strong, square jaw. His masculine strength shrank the shanty and made every bit of air vanish. No man on earth could be as amazing as Lorenzo
Candlelight flickered over him, caressing the powerful angles of his face and gleaming darkly on the thick, dark fall of his hair. She lost the ability to breathe as he took a step backward into the darkness. Snow sifted over him like spun sugar.
Don’t start wishing, Ruby.
“I shouldn’t leave my horse standing in this cold. Good night, Ruby. I will see you on Monday.”
“On Monday.” The words stuttered over her tongue, her legs went weak, and she grasped the door frame before she tumbled face-first onto the snowy step. Monday. A different kind of panic clutched her, cinching tight around her middle.
She would see Lorenzo every day. She would be in his house, be in proximity with his family and washing his dishes. The warm place in her heart remembered his touch, his gallantry, his kindness. It made a girl want to dream.
Focus, Ruby. She no longer had time for schoolgirl wishes. Pa’s tired gait drummed on the floorboards behind her, coming closer. In the dying storm, Lorenzo was a shadow, then a hint of a shadow and finally nothing more. The beat of Poncho’s hooves faded until there was only the whispering hush of falling snow and the winter’s cold.
She closed the door firmly against the darkness. Discarded wishes followed her like snowflakes in the air as she headed toward the stove to make a cup of tea for her father. She had the chance to make a real difference for her family. Monday was what she ought to think about. Monday, when she started her new job.
In the predawn light, Ruby slid off of Solomon in the shelter of the Davis’s barn. Breathing in the scents of hay and warm horse, she glanced around. Stalls were filled with animals eating out of their troughs. What did she do with Solomon? Where did she take him?
Something tugged at her hat, knocking it askew on her head. Dear old Solomon’s whiskery lips nibbled the brim and the side of her face in comfortable adoration. They had been friends for a long time. She patted his neck and leaned against him, her sweet boy. “I’m sure I’m supposed to put you somewhere, but I didn’t think to ask when Lorenzo delivered the letter.”
Solomon’s nicker rumbled low in his throat, a comforting answer of sorts. Fortunately, she did not have to wonder for long as footsteps tapped her way, echoing in the dark aisle. She couldn’t see his face, but she would know those mile-wide shoulders anywhere.
“Good morning, Ruby.” Lorenzo Davis ambled out of the shadows. Two huge buckets of water sloshed at his sides as he made his way to the end stall. “You are early.”
“Only twenty minutes.” She’d meant to be earlier, but the roads had been slow going with a thick layer of ice. It had been all Solomon could do to keep his footing. “I’m surprised to see you packing water. Isn’t that the stable boy’s job?”
“Sure, but I help with the barn work.” His answer came lightly as he hefted one of the buckets over the wooden rail. Water splashed into a washtub. “Stay back, Sombrero, or you’ll get wet again.”
Inside the stall, a horse neighed his opinion. A hoof stomped as if in a protest or a demand to hurry up with the water. The man had a way with animals, she had to give him credit for that. His powerful stance, his rugged masculinity and his ease as he lifted the second ten-gallon bucket and emptied it etched a picture into her mind. That picture took on life and color, and when she blinked, it remained. Another image of the man she could not forget. Her soul sighed just a little. She couldn’t help it.
Solomon nudged her a second time, gently reminding her she was doing it again—staring off into thin air when there was work to be done. She shook her head, cleared her thoughts and gently patted her gelding’s shoulder. “Where can I put up my boy?”
“I’ll take him.” Lorenzo set down the bucket and held out a hand to Solomon. “You remember me, don’t you, old fella?”
The swaybacked animal snorted in answer. His ears pricked, he snuffled Lorenzo’s palm with his muzzle, gray with age. His low-noted nicker was clearly a horsy greeting. Did every living creature adore the man?
“Are you nervous about starting your new job?” He caught Solomon’s reins. If he noticed the leather straps were wearing thin, he didn’t comment.
“Just a tad.” That was an understatement, but she wasn’t about to admit it. All she could see was doom. So much could go wrong to cause Mrs. Davis to change her mind or for the stern-looking Lucia to fire her. Anxiety clawed behind her rib cage like a trapped rodent.
Just breathe, she told herself. No need to panic.
Lorenzo’s intensely dark blue eyes glowed softly as if he cared. While his gaze searched hers, she felt as if she were the only woman on earth. His slow smile spread wonderfully across his mouth. Like the sun dawning, his smile could light up her life if she let it.
“Everything will be just fine.” Lorenzo’s hand settled on her shoulder, a pleasantly heavy weight meant to be comforting.
It wasn’t. Why was he touching her? The panic clawing inside her chest doubled. Maybe he was trying to soothe her, but it unnerved her. Air squeezed through her too-tight throat in a little hiccup.
His hand didn’t move, his touch remained like out of a dream. Was she really smiling up at him, so close she could see the nearly black threads in his irises and the smooth-shaven texture of his square jaw? Good thing she was independent, because a woman less confident might be tempted to lay her cheek on the powerful plane of his chest.
Not her, but some other woman might let herself dream what it would be like when he folded his iron-hewn arms around her and held her tightly.
It was a good thing she had her feet firmly on the ground. Because that wasn’t what she wanted. Nope, not at all. What she wanted was to save her family’s farm. To lessen her father’s burden.
Solomon blew out his breath, drawing her out of her thoughts. Lorenzo moved away, rubbed the gelding’s nose. “Go in the back door. Just follow the path around the side of the house.”
“Take good care of my boy.” She lifted her chin, trying to shake away the effects from being too near to the man. He was an absolute hazard.
“I’ll treat him like my own. Right, Solomon?” That irresistible kindness rumbled in the low notes of his voice.
Her heart fluttered against her will as she watched both horse and man head down the dim aisle.
A little strength, Lord, please. Strength to resist the man’s warmth and decency, strength to put one foot in front of the other and face the grim Lucia, strength to make it through the day without making any mistakes. It was a lot to ask for, but she thought of her father’s burdens and added, for my pa.
Horse hooves clomped behind her, and she spun around. A roan horse flared his nostrils at her, bared his teeth and careened to a stop. On his back sat a woman she did not know, who was a few years older.
“So you are the new girl.” Her tone was not friendly. Her green eyes squinted with a hint of disdain. “You must have been a pity hire.”
A pity hire? Heat stained her face. Lorenzo heard that. He might have been gracious enough to disregard her patched shoes and secondhand dress, but this woman was not. Ruby lifted her chin higher. This job mattered to her. That’s why she was here. Not to compete with another maid for his attention.
“Lorenzo.” The newcomer brightened when she spotted the boss’s son. She swung down from her horse with the air of a princess leaving her throne. Her attention riveted to the man stroking Solomon’s cheek. Her smile was breathtaking. “I didn’t know you would be in the barn this morning. This is my lucky day.”
“Not mine, as I’ve been packing water.” His smile had vanished, but his kindness had not. “I’ll have Thacker see to your roan. Mae, this is Ruby.”
The moment between them had broken. With the gelding’s reins in hand, he took a step backward and tipped his hat in farewell. A tiny pain clutched behind her sternum as he withdrew into the shadows. She was not smitten with the man. She was utterly in charge of her heart.
“You won’t last the day.” Mae shook her head as if she were an experienced judge of such things. “Whatever happens, don’t think I will do any of your work.”
“No, of course not, I—” But the woman took off, leaving her alone in the barn. A horse stretched his neck over the top of his railing and tried to catch the hem of her scarf with his teeth.
That could have gone better, she thought as she tucked the scarf around her throat. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. At least there would be no shoe disasters today. Last night, she’d spent an hour and a half tightening and repairing all the threads holding her shoe buttons in place. Confidently, she launched out of the barn and into the snow.
That was the key. To be confident. To visualize a good outcome instead of disaster. This would be her new attitude. She breathed the wintry air deep into her lungs until they burned and breathed out great, white clouds of fog. Her shoes crunched on the path, her skirts rustled and swirled with her gait. She had to concentrate on her work and not on Lorenzo. Forget how handsome he’d looked. Forget how kind. Make her heart stop fluttering because he’d smiled at her.
Her family’s livelihood hung in the balance.
The sky began to change to a lighter shade of gray. The beauty of the still plains, sleeping snow and amazing world buoyed her spirits. The enormous house rose up in front of her with bright windows and smoke curling from numerous chimneys. Far up ahead, Mae yanked open a door. A few moments later, Lucia appeared on the threshold, gesturing impatiently. “Let’s get you in a uniform. You can’t work for the mistress wearing that.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The panic returned, clawing her with a vengeance. She hurried up the steps and the minute her wet shoes hit the floor, squeak. Creak.
Great, Ruby. Just great. She slipped out of her coat and hung it on a nearby wall peg.
“Definitely a pity hire,” Mae whispered from the far side of the foyer.
Not knowing what to say, Ruby dutifully followed the head housekeeper. Squeak, creak.
It was going to be a very long day.
A weak sun filtered through a thin blanket of quick-moving clouds. Although at its zenith, the bright disc gave no warmth. The arctic winds dominated, burning the high Montana prairie with its bitter chill. In his warmest coat, Lorenzo’s teeth chattered as he trudged the snow-covered path to the house. He could tell himself he hurried along the path at a breakneck speed because he couldn’t wait to unthaw in front of a fire with a cup of tea and a hot meal, but that would be a lie.
His gaze searched through the main-floor windows. His toe caught on a snow clump. His right foot skidded on a patch of ice. Did he watch where he was going? No, he didn’t lift his eyes from the house. He spotted his mother in the parlor, working at her embroidery. Lucia bustled around the dining room table, checking that everything was ready for the family’s meal. He spotted Mae at a window above the kitchen’s water pump but saw no sign of Ruby.
He had thought of nothing else all morning. He’d finished his barn work, hauled hay and taken a pick once again to the cattle’s water supply. He’d spread out bags of feed corn and stopped to doctor a cow who had a painful run-in with a coyote, but Ruby stayed front and center in his mind, a beautiful song he could not forget.
“Renzo!” Boots pounded on the path behind him. His cousin, Mateo, fell in stride beside him. Mateo was a few years older, a few inches shorter and a dedicated cattleman. “You spent a lot of time in the horse barn this morning.”
“Not much more than usual.” Snow scudded across the pathway ahead of him as he debated slowing down or speeding up. His cousin had a sharp eye; he didn’t miss much. Not ready to have a member of his family aware that he was sweet on Ruby, he launched forward, faster. If Mateo wanted to give him a hard time, let him at least have to work for it.
“Sure, you do your fair share with the horses, but did I see you tending one of the maids’ horses?” Mateo caught up, breathing hard. “Don’t tell me you have an interest in that ancient, swayback horse she was riding.”
“Sure I do. Solomon and I are old friends.” Maybe humor would distract his cousin, because the back door loomed closer and this was not a conversation he wanted anyone in the house to overhear. “I wanted to check on his shoe. I re-shod him yesterday.”
“Oh, so that was the errand you went on.” Mateo didn’t look fooled. “Whoever the young woman is, she’s awful pretty. She’s easy on the eyes.”
“Maybe you should stop looking.” A furious power radiated through him as strong as iron, and he heard the growl in his words. Jealousy wasn’t his style, so it surprised him.
“Sorry, man. I wasn’t interested, really.” Mateo’s smile flashed. “But you are.”
Couldn’t he hide it better than that? He stomped the snow off his boots on the step and grasped the doorknob. “Let’s keep it quiet. Ruby doesn’t know.”
“Sure. But when she rejects you, I’m next in line to beau her.” Mateo probably wasn’t serious, but his words were like an arrow to a target.
Would Ruby reject him if she knew about his feelings? She hadn’t done one thing to confirm any affection on her part. Shy smiles, gentle humor, yes. But did she feel drawn to him? A weight settled on his chest as he turned the knob. The warmth of the kitchen pulled him in, but his knees knocked as he shrugged out of his coat. What he felt for Ruby was powerfully rare. It was gentle as a December sun dawning, as everlasting as the stars in the sky and so true it came from the deepest places in his soul.
He still did not know if he had a chance with her. Would she want him for a beau? What would he do if she didn’t?
He shouldered into the kitchen doorway, searching for her in the ordered chaos. Cook sliced a roast chicken, steam billowed from a potato pot while workers scurried around putting food on platters and finding a colander for the boiling potatoes. Everything faded when he spied Ruby at the farthest worktable, transferring piping hot dinner rolls into a cloth-lined basket.
Gossamer tendrils of her platinum hair curled around her face as she bent over her work. He took in the long, lean curve of her arm, the straight line of her back and the way her every movement was graceful. She plopped the last roll into the basket and covered the baked goods to keep in the heat. How dear she looked in her dove-gray maid’s dress and white apron. She spun around, holding the baking sheet with a hot pad in one hand and their gazes collided.
The chaos vanished, the clatter silenced and time froze. In the stillness, he saw her unguarded, with her feelings exposed. A lasso of emotion lashed around him and roped his heart to hers. For one perfect moment, they were bound and tied together in an immeasurable way, and he could see something he hadn’t before. Her heart. Tenderness washed over him like grace.
“Hey, Romeo.” Mateo lightly punched him in the shoulder. “Didn’t you hear your pa? He’s calling you.”
He heard nothing but Ruby. When she shyly broke away, hope took root in his soul for what could be.
Chapter Five
Crocheting was harder than it looked, at least for her, but it gave her something to focus on aside from the fact that she had been forced to sit at one of the worktables crammed into the corner of the kitchen for her midday meal. When she’d gone to join the others at the table near the warm stove, all the chairs had suddenly become mysteriously saved for someone else.
No matter. She suspected her knowing Lorenzo might have something to do with it. Lorenzo. She hoped a sigh hadn’t escaped her as she unhooked her crochet needle from the loop of white thread and gave it a tug. Hard-won stitches disappeared before her eyes, unraveling as she counted backwards to the place where she’d made the error.
She’d decided to learn to crochet because she figured working with one crochet hook instead of two knitting needles had to be easier, but she had been sorely mistaken. She inserted the hook, checked the pattern Scarlet had copied down for her and looped the thread three times. Concentrating, the morning’s troubles slipped away.
“How is it going?” A man’s voice sounded close to her ear, and she startled. The needle tumbled from her grip, more stitches unraveled and the ball of thread rolled across the floor.
“Lorenzo.” She gaped up at him like a fish out of water. Dashing in a dark, blue flannel shirt and black trousers, he knelt to retrive the ball. “What are you doing here?”
“Scaring you, apparently.” He handed over the thread, kneeling before her like a knight of old, so gallant every head in the room was turned toward him. Apparently she wasn’t the only young woman on the staff who couldn’t keep her eyes off him. His dimples framed his perfect smile as she took the ball. Her fingers bumped his, and the shock trailed up her arm like a lightning strike.
“You were right.” She dropped the skein onto her lap. “Everything has gone fine. I’m trying to learn all I can.”
“Good to hear. Do you mind if I join you?” He unfolded his big frame, rising to his six-foot height. His hand rested on the back of the chair beside her. “I thought we could catch up.”
“But we talked a lot on the sleigh ride, and we aren’t exactly friends.”
“We can change that.” He pulled out the chair, turning it sideways so that when he settled on the cushion, he faced her.
Not a good thing. How could she think with his handsomeness distracting her? Worse, the women at the other table had fallen silent, openly staring.
“What are you making?” He lowered his voice, perhaps hoping to keep the conversation just between the two of them.
“It’s supposed to be a snowflake. For Christmas ornaments.” She held up the poor misshapen mess of stitches. So far, her greatest aptitude in the needle arts was crocheting, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit that to Lorenzo. His nearness tied her in knots, and she wondered what he really saw when he looked at her. Although she wore a uniform just like the other maids, she could still feel her patches. A world separated her and Lorenzo. So, why was he really talking to her?
“It does look like a snowflake.” He tilted his head to one side, studying the rows of stitching. “You were working on this when I came by the other night.”
“Yes, although I already finished that one. I’m making them for Christmas gifts and to add to my hope chest.” She blushed, aware of how that must sound. “Not that I’m hopeful or anything. It’s just something girls do.”
“I’m aware. My sister has one, too.” He relaxed comfortably against the chair back and planted his elbow on the table. A shaft of watery sunshine tumbled through the window, bronzing the copper highlights in his dark hair and worshiping the angled artistry of his face. “Bella and my mother do a lot of sewing for her hope chest. They have been at it for years now.”
“That sounds nice. It must be wonderful to have a ma.” She tried not to think of all the ways she missed the mother she’d never known. She fingered the half-made snowflake, trying to imagine what it would have been like to sew alongside a mother. “Yours is especially nice.”
“I’ll keep her. Who taught you to sew? Your aunt?”
“No, my Aunt June didn’t have the time to spare.” She bit her bottom lip, remembering those hard times when her father had been injured. “I’m mostly self-taught. After Pa was well and we moved out of our uncle’s house, I had to figure out how to mend everyone’s clothes. I wasn’t that good, but when we moved here to Angel Falls, my new friends took pity on me.”
“Not pity.” His dark eyes grew darker with interest. “I’m sure they couldn’t help adoring you on that first day you came to school.”
“Me? No.” Shyness gripped her, and she bowed her head, breaking away from the power of his gaze. She didn’t want him to see too much or to know how sorely her feelings had been hurt on her first day of school. “I was the new girl and didn’t know anyone. I think they felt sorry for me.”
“I know I did.”
Mortified, time flashed backward, and in memory, she was at her desk in the back row. Sunshine warmed the classroom and open windows let in the fresh smells of growing grass and the Montana wind. Shouts and shoes drummed as kids rushed toward the door for lunch break, but Narcissa Bell’s voice rose above every sound. “Does it look as if I want to be friends with you? What is your name?”
“R-Ruby.” She bowed her head, miserable beyond description. Her first day of school. She’d come with hopes of making friends.
“I’m going to call you Rags. Look at that dress.”
Girls had laughed as they pranced by in their tailored frocks in the latest fabrics and styles, in their shining new shoes and hair ribbons and bows. She’d felt her face blaze tomato red as her dreams of making friends shattered.
She hadn’t realized Lorenzo had witnessed the whole thing. What had he thought at the time? He was friends with Narcissa. They were in the same circle of friends. Had he gazed at her that first day with pity, too?
“I remember you wound up eating lunch with Meredith and her group.” No sign of pity marked his chiseled, lean face. “You were hard not to notice, being the new girl and the prettiest.”
“Not the prettiest, not by far.” How could he say such a thing? She squirmed in her chair, uncomfortable but grateful, because his generous compliment took the sting out of the memory of Narcissa’s taunting. “But I could be the most blessed. I got a new circle of friends that day. The best friends anyone could have.”
“That is a great blessing,” he agreed, so sincere, she found herself leaning in a little closer, drawn to him in a way she could not control.
“God was watching over me.” She would never forget how it had felt when Fiona, Meredith, Lila, Kate, Scarlet and Earlee had approached her with friendly smiles and asked her to eat with them. “They asked me to join their sewing circle. We try to meet every week.”
“And so they have helped you with your sewing.”
“And my kitting and crocheting.” She gestured to the delicate circle of stitching cradled in the folds of her apron. “They are like family to me.”
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Jillian Hart
Yuletide Cinderella Grateful when she’s hired as the Davises’ maid, Ruby Ballard vows to help save her family’s farm. There’s just one problem: the boss’s handsome son, Lorenzo. He makes her forget family duty, forget her lowly place, even forget her friends who are in love with him! But his love is a gift that could never be hers—not even for Christmas.Lorenzo knows Ruby is the only woman he could marry. Yet the quiet beauty refuses his courtship. As the holidays approach, he will make both their wishes come true, when he claims her at last as his snowflake bride.
Love Lost—and Found
Grateful when she’s hired as the Davises’ maid, Ruby Ballard vows to help save her family’s farm. There’s just one problem: the boss’s handsome son, Lorenzo. He makes her forget family duty, forget her lowly place, even forget her friends who are in love with him! But his love is a gift that could never be hers—not even for Christmas.
Lorenzo knows Ruby is the only woman he could marry. Yet the quiet beauty refuses his courtship. As the holidays approach, he will make both their wishes come true, when he claims her at last as his snowflake bride.In northwestern Montana, these friends stitch together their happily-ever-afters
She could feel the tug of his gaze and the gentle insistence of his presence.
She wanted to look at him. She really did. She wanted to gaze into his eyes and feel that click of closeness to him. To let him look deeper and let herself dream of having handsome Lorenzo Davis fall in mad love with her.
It wasn’t going to happen.
“Next harvest will be better,” he promised. “I’ll put it in my prayers.”
His smile drew her once again. Unable to resist, her eyes met his and the world faded. The jarring of the sleigh ceased. The cold vanished and there was only his sincerity, his caring and the quiet wish in her soul she could not give in to.
“We’re here.”
JILLIAN HART
grew up on her family’s homestead, where she helped raise cattle, rode horses and scribbled stories in her spare time. After earning her English degree from Whitman College, she worked in travel and advertising before selling her first novel. When Jillian isn’t working on her next story, she can be found puttering in her rose garden, curled up with a good book or spending quiet evenings at home with her family.
Jillian Hart
Snowflake Bride
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Therefore…put on tender mercies, kindness, humility, meekness, longsuffering; bearing with one another and forgiving one another…but above all these things put on love.
—Colossians 3:12–14
Contents
Chapter One (#u64f439af-bac0-597f-8256-b262f40ad0ba)
Chapter Two (#u3b37609b-3037-5749-a86b-e2c01446e0f0)
Chapter Three (#u043e9aaf-c501-57a9-bc35-fef9df667e2f)
Chapter Four (#u14e74e0c-378b-5ed1-8a91-000c0384633f)
Chapter Five (#u528692db-3270-5945-891e-1f83e1d74550)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
December 1884
Angel County, Montana Territory
Snowflakes hovered like airy dreams, too fragile to touch the ground. They floated on gentle winds and twirled on icy gusts. Not that she should be noticing.
“How long have you been standing here, staring?” Ruby Ballard asked herself. Her words were too small to disturb the vast, lonely silence of the high Montana prairie or to roust her from watching the beauty of white-gray sky and dainty flakes. They reminded her of the crocheted stitches of the doily she was learning to make.
“Your interview. Remember?” She blinked the snowflakes off her lashes and hiked up the skirts of her best wool dress. Time to give up admiring the loveliness and get her head in the real world. Pa often told her that was her biggest problem. Could she help it that God’s world was so lovely she was mesmerized into noticing it all the time?
“Focus, Ruby. You need this job. Badly.” Enough that she’d hardly prayed about anything else for days, ever since her dear friend Scarlet had told her about the opening. She quickened her pace up the Davis’s long, sweeping drive because Pa hadn’t been able to get any work in town so far this winter and her family was desperate.
Ping! The faint sound was at odds with the hush of the flakes plopping gently and the crunch of her shoes in the snow. A very suspicious sound. She glanced around, but there was nothing aside from fence posts and trees. The wind gusted and knifed through her shoe with the precision of a blade. Fearing the worst, she looked down.
A spot of her white stocking clearly peeked between the gaping leather tongue of her black left shoe. Her stomach dropped in an oh-no! way. She had lost a button. What kind of an impression was she going to make when Mrs. Davis, one of the wealthiest women in the county, noticed?
Ruby hung her head. She would look like the poor country girl she was. Not that she was ashamed of that, but she didn’t think it would help her get the job.
“Don’t panic. Stay calm.” First things first. She needed to find the button. How hard could it be to locate in all this white snow? It would surely stand out; she could pluck it up and sew it back on her shoe. Since this wasn’t the first time this sort of thing had happened, she carried thread and a needle in her reticule for emergencies. Problem solved. Job interview saved.
Except she couldn’t see the button—only pure, white snow in every direction. There was no sign of a hole where it had fallen through. Nothing. Now it was time to panic. If she couldn’t sew it back on, she needed to come up with another plan.
“Looking for something?” A warm baritone broke into her panic.
Ruby froze. She knew that voice. She’d heard it before when she’d overheard him talking with his family before or after church. She remembered that deep, kind timbre from the previous school year as he would answer the teacher’s questions or chat with his friends during recess.
Lorenzo Davis. Her heart stopped beating. Her palms broke out in a sweat. The panic fluttering behind her ribs increased until it felt as if a hundred hummingbirds were trapped there, desperate to escape. What did she do? She straightened, realizing she must look like an idiot.
A snow-covered idiot. She swiped the damp stuff off her face and spun to him. Try to be calm, Ruby, she told herself. Be dignified.
“Ilostashoebutton,” she said, the words tumbling off her tongue as if she were no more than a dummy. Honestly. The words had sounded just fine in her mind, but the instant they hit her tongue, they bunched together like overcooked oatmeal, and now she looked twice as stupid to the most handsome man in the territory.
Brilliant, Ruby. Just perfectly brilliant.
“Sorry, I missed that.” Lorenzo tipped his hat cordially, disturbing a slight layer of snowflakes that had accumulated on the brim. He looked like seven kinds of dashing as he rose from his sleigh. He had a classic, square-cut face, impressively wide shoulders and enough quiet charm to send every single young lady in town to dreaming.
That was one thing she was not dreaming about—Lorenzo Davis. She might not be as well-schooled as her friend Meredith or as well-read as her friend Lila, but she knew a man like him would never be interested in a plain girl like her or one who could embarrass herself so easily. Not only did she have a button missing, but she had to explain it to him—again—and pray this time she regained the power of speech, or he would think she had something terribly wrong with her.
“Oh, you have a button missing.” He strode toward her, a mountain of powerful male concern. She’d never realized how tall he was before, as she’d never been this close to him before or alone with him. She swallowed hard, realizing there was just the two of them and the veil of the falling snow for as far as she could see.
“Do you have any idea where you lost it?” His deep blue gaze speared hers with something that could have been friendly, but it was far too intense. “It’s a long way between here and your farm.”
“Ah, over here.” Thankful her command of the English language had returned, she felt silly pointing in front of her, where she had been looking when he’d driven up. His horse watched them curiously, blowing air out his nose and sending snowflakes whirling. “I’m afraid it’s gone for good.”
“I’m afraid you’re right. You may have to wait until spring to find it.” A slow grin accompanied his words. There was a reason most of the young ladies in Angel Falls had a crush on the man. When he smiled, good humor warmed a face that was already perfection and gave heart to his intense, dark blue eyes, the straight, strong blade of his nose and the hard, lean line of his mouth. His cheekbones were sharp enough to cut glass, and the uncompromising angle of his square jaw spoke of strength and character. He didn’t need his heart-stopping dimples, but they made him mesmerizing. Incomparable. The most handsome man ever.
“I better not wait until April for a button,” she quipped. “I should be going. Thanks for stopping.”
“Sure.” He tilted his head slightly to one side, as if he was studying her or trying to make up his mind about her.
So far, so good, she thought. She hadn’t said anything that she considered inane enough that it would haunt her for days. She tightened her grip on her reticule, nodded good day and set out like the dignified young lady she wished she could be.
Ping! Ping! Shoe buttons went flying and plunked into the snow right in front of Lorenzo.
How embarrassing. Now her stockings were really showing, plus she looked like someone who couldn’t afford sturdy shoes. Mrs. Davis was never going to hire her now. If she did, the woman might worry what other part of her new maid’s attire would fail next. And as for Lorenzo, he had to be thinking she was the most backward country girl he’d ever seen.
“Got one.” He bent quickly and neatly plucked something out of the snow. “Let’s see if I can hunt down the other.”
Mortified, she watched in horror. Dreamy Lorenzo Davis dug his leather-gloved fingers through the snow in search of her battered shoe button with the patience and care he would spend looking for a fallen gold nugget.
Don’t think about the patch in your shoes, she told herself. She’d carefully repaired the hole on her handed-down shoes from the church donation barrel and had oiled the leather carefully. At a distance, they could have been new, but up close, they had clearly seen better days. She feared she looked as secondhand as her shoes. Definitely not in Lorenzo’s class.
“Found it.” Triumphant, Lorenzo stood, all six feet of impressive male towering over her, and held out his hand. There, on his gloved palm, sat her buttons. “Are you interviewing with my mother this morning?”
“Yes. Thank you.” She plucked the buttons from him quickly, because she’d made her own mittens and they were a sad sight. She was only learning to knit and the uneven gage showed more than just a tad.
He didn’t seem to notice. “I know she’s looking for someone dependable. Her last kitchen maid eloped with the neighbor’s farmhand without giving notice, so Ma is particularly miffed about that. Mention you are as dependable as the sun, and she’ll hire you.”
She slipped the buttons into her coat pocket. His advice was nice, but why would he bother? “You’re giving me an advantage.”
“Guilty. It would be nice to see a friendly face around the house. I miss everyone from school. Don’t get me wrong, I love working on the ranch, but I spend more time with cows and horses than people.” Those dimples deepened and held her captive.
Surely a sign of impending doom. She could not let a handsome man’s dimples draw her in like that. What was wrong with her? She tried to hide her smile and stared at the toes of her shoes. She needed to repair her shoe in time for her interview. How could she do that while he watched? Surely, as nice and kind as he was, Lorenzo couldn’t help drawing conclusions.
Well, she was never going to be as stylish as her friend Scarlet, endearing like Earlee or poised like Kate. She couldn’t pretend otherwise. She could only loosen her reticule strings and fish around for the packet of needles and bobbin of thread.
“Let me drive you up to the house.” His warm offer startled her.
“D-drive me?” She nearly dropped the buttons.
“It will give you time to sew everything on. My mother will never suspect.” Kindly, he held out his hand, palm up, as an invitation. “You can sew while I drive.”
Did his unguarded blue eyes have to be so compelling? Veiled in the snow, he could have been a western legend come to life, too dreamy to be real and too incredible to be actually speaking to her.
Don’t do it, she decided. Her pa had raised her to be self-reliant. She was perfectly capable of walking the rest of the way. Besides, she was too shy to think of a thing to say to him on the drive. She should simply say no.
“C’mon. I’m not leaving without you. If you walk, I walk. Not that I mind, but Poncho might take offense.”
As if on cue, the beautiful bay blew out his breath like a raspberry, making his lips vibrate disparagingly.
“See?” Lorenzo chuckled, and the sound was warm and homey, like melting butter on a stove. “If Poncho is upset, he will take it out on me all day long. You don’t want that for me, do you?”
“No, as Poncho looks like a terror.” The terror in question reached over to lip his master’s hat brim affectionately. Even the horse adored him. “I suppose one short, little ride won’t hurt. It’s only so I can sew.”
“Of course. That’s the reason I asked.” Lorenzo’s assurance came quick and light.
He must offer rides to stranded young ladies all the time. He was a gentleman. It was nothing personal, which made it easier to lay her palm on his.
A current of awareness telegraphed through her with the suddenness of lightning striking. The sweet wash of sensation was like a hymn on a Sunday morning. A sweetness she had no business feeling, though it brought her a gentle peace. She didn’t remember stepping forward or climbing into the sleigh. Suddenly, she was on the seat with him settled next to her and the steel of his arm pressed against hers.
How was she going to concentrate enough to sew?
“What happened to the horse you usually ride?” He snapped the reins gently. Poncho stepped forward, although the gelding swiveled his ears back, as if he wanted to hear the answer, too.
“Solomon threw a shoe, and I didn’t dare ride him.” She leaned forward to work on loosening her laces.
“It’s a long way to walk. Three miles or more.”
“I don’t mind. It’s a beautiful morning.” Soft, platinum curls, fallen loose from her plaits, framed her heart-shaped face and fluttered in the wind.
“It’s a cold morning,” he corrected gently, but she didn’t seem to see his point as she tugged off her shoe, shook off any melting pieces of snow and set it on her lap. He tried to think of a woman he knew who would walk three miles on a morning like this because it was better for her old horse. “You must really want the chance at the kitchen job.”
“Yes. I’m sure I’m not the only one. Work is hard to find these days. Pa is always talking about the poor economy.” She unwound a length of thread from a small wooden spool, her long, slender fingers graceful and careful.
Wishing swept through him as he studied her profile. Long lashes framed her light blue eyes. Her nose had a sweet little slope, and her gentle, rosebud mouth seemed to always hold the hint of a smile. The way her chin curved, so delicate and cute, made him want to run the pad of his thumb along the angle to see if her skin felt as soft as it looked. Every time he gazed upon her, tenderness wrapped around him in ever-strengthening layers. He had a fondness for Ruby Ballard, but he suspected she did not have one for him.
The sting pierced him, but he tried not to let it show. Never, not once, had he caught her glancing his way. A few times, he’d spotted her in town, but she was busily chatting with her friends or running her errands and did not notice him.
Then again, he had never been alone with her, and she was fairly new to town. She’d arrived late in the school year last year. He remembered the day. How quiet she’d been, settling onto her seat in the back of the school room. She hadn’t made a sound, but he’d turned in his seat toward her, unable to stop himself. To him, she was like the first light of dawn, like the first gentle notes of a song and he’d been captivated.
“Everyone is talking about the poor economy,” he agreed. The low prices of corn and wheat this last harvest had been a disappointment to his family and a hardship to many others. He didn’t have to ask to know her family had been hard hit, too. “Did your father find work in town?”
“How did you know he was looking?” She glanced up from threading her needle. Wide, honest eyes met his with surprise. “How do you know my father?”
“He came by during the harvest, looking for work. We had already filled our positions, or I would have made sure he had a job.” He knew how fortunate his family was with their plentiful material blessings. He had learned a long time ago wealth did not equate to the goodness inside a person and that everyone was equal in God’s eyes. Having money and privilege did not make someone better than those without. God looked at the heart of a person, and he tried hard to do the same. When Jon Ballard had come to ask for employment with hat in hand, Lorenzo had seen a decent, honest, hard-working man. “I gave him a few good recommendations around town. I had hoped it helped.”
“It didn’t, but that was nice of you, Lorenzo.”
“It was no problem.” The way she said his name tugged at his heart. He couldn’t deny he was sweet on the woman, couldn’t deny he cared. He liked everything about her—the way she drew her bottom lip between her teeth when she concentrated, the care she took with everything, including the way she set the button to the shoe leather and started the first, hesitant stitch.
Snow clung to her in big, fat flakes of fragility, turning the knit hat she wore into a tiara and decorating her light, gossamer curls framing her face. Snowflakes dappled her eyelashes and cheeks until he had to fight to resist the urge to brush them away for her.
“In other words, you are in serious need of employment.” He kept his tone light but determination burned in his chest.
“Yes.” She squinted to draw her needle through the buttonhole a second time. “My brother has found work in Wyoming. Pa is considering moving there.”
“Moving?” Alarm beat through him. “Is there work for him there?”
“No, but he has the hope for it.” Her rosebud mouth downturned, she fastened all her attention on knotting her thread. “I would have to go with him.”
“I see.” His throat constricted making it hard to speak, harder to breathe. “You don’t want to go?”
Please, say no, he thought. His pulse leaped, galloping as if he’d run a mile full out. It seemed an eternity until she answered, her voice as sweet as the morning.
“I’m happy here. I wish to stay.” She bit off the thread and bent her head to re-knot it.
I wish that, too. It wasn’t exactly a prayer, he did not believe in praying for himself, so it was for her happiness he prayed. Give her the best solution, Lord, he asked. Please. He had no time to add any thoughts because a shadow appeared through the gray veil of the storm, which had grown thick, blotting out all sign of the countryside and of the lamp-lit windows of the house that should have been in sight.
Poncho gave a short neigh, already anticipating the command before it happened. Lorenzo tugged briefly on the right rein anyway as the gelding guided the sleigh neatly around the figure. A woman walked up the lane, her head covered with a hood and her coat shrouded with snow. She glanced briefly at them, but he could not recognize her in the downfall. His first inclination was to stop and offer her a ride, too, but then he wouldn’t be alone with Ruby. He felt Poncho hesitate, as if the horse was wondering why he hadn’t been pulled to a stop.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ruby, head down, intent on sewing the final button as fast as she could go. This was his one chance, his one shot to be alone with her. He hoped that she might see something in him she liked, something that might lead her to say hello to him on the street the next time they met or to smile at him across the church sanctuary on Sunday. He gave the reins a sharp snap so Poncho would keep going. Up ahead, another shadow rose out of the ever-thickening curtain as the storm closed in.
“There. Done,” Ruby said with a rush and stowed away her needle and thread. “Just in time, too. There’s the house.”
“It was good timing,” he agreed as he slowed the gelding in front of the portico. The tall, overhead roof served as a shelter from the downfall. While she leaned forward to slip on her shoe, he drank in the sight of her until his heart ached. He didn’t know why she opened a place inside of him, a deep and vulnerable room he had not known was there.
“That will have to do.” She shrugged, for a glimpse of her stocking still showed between the gap in the buttons. Her eyes had darkened a shade, perhaps with worry. She didn’t wait for him to offer his hand to help her from the sleigh but bounded out on her own.
That stung. He steeled his spine and straightened his shoulders, determined not to let the hurt show. She made a pretty picture circling around the back of the vehicle, her skirt snapping with her hurried gait. Snow sprinkled over her like powdered sugar. She couldn’t look any sweeter. His heart tugged, still opening up to her when he knew he ought to step back and respect that she didn’t feel a thing for him.
“Thank you, Lorenzo.” She stared down at her toes.
Was it his imagination, or did her soft voice warm just a tad when she said his name? The wind gusted, driving snow between them, and he couldn’t be sure. He cleared his throat, hoping to keep the emotion from his voice. “Glad I could help you out, Ruby.”
“Help me? You saved me. This way, your mother won’t see me sewing on my buttons in her entry.” She bobbed a little on her feet and lifted her eyes briefly to him. “Thank Poncho for me, too.”
“I will.” He rocked back on his heels, shocked by the impact of her gaze. Quick, gentle and timid, but his heart opened wider.
She was shy, he realized, which was different from not being interested in him. Her chin went back down, and she swept away like a waltz without music, like a song only he could hear.
Chapter Two
Ruby stared at the marble floor beneath her, where the snow melting from her shoes had left a puddle. A stern housekeeper in a black dress and crisp apron had taken her mittens, coat and hat and left her clutching her reticule by the strings and staring in wonder at her surroundings. The columns rising up to the high ceiling were marble, too, she suspected. Ornate, golden-framed paintings marched along the walls, which were wainscoted and coved and decorated with a craftsmanship she’d never seen before. She felt very plain in her best wool dress, which was new to her, being handed down from her older cousin. Very plain, indeed.
“Lucia tells me you are quite early.” A tall, lovely woman came into sight. Her sapphire-blue dress of the latest fashion rustled pleasantly as she drew near. “With this storm, I expected everyone to be a bit behind.”
“My pa has a gift for judging the weather, and he thought a storm might be coming, so I left home early.” Ruby grasped her reticule strings more tightly, wondering what she should do. Did she stand? Did she remain seated? What about the puddle beneath her shoes?
“Over an entire hour early.” Mrs. Davis smiled, and there was a hint of Lorenzo in the friendly upturned corners. She had warm eyes, too, although they were dark as her hair, which was coiled and coiffed in a beautiful sweeping-up knot. “Why don’t you come with me now, since everyone else is late? We can talk. Would you like some tea? You look as if you could use some warming up.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She stood, feeling the squish of her soles in the wetness. “But first, should I borrow something? The snow stuck in my shoe treads melted. I don’t want to make a mess.”
“Lucia will see to it. Don’t worry, dear. Come along.” Mrs. Davis gestured gently with one elegant hand. Diamonds sparkled and gold gleamed in the lamplight. “Come into the parlor.”
“Thank you.” Her interview was now? That couldn’t be good. She wasn’t prepared. She hadn’t recovered from being with Lorenzo. Her mind remained scrambled and his handsome face was all she could think of—the strong line of his shoulders, the capable way he held the reins and his kindness to her over the button disaster.
Pay attention, Ruby. She set out after Mrs. Davis. Squeak, went her right shoe. Creak, went her left. Oh, no. She stopped in her tracks but the woman ahead of her continued on and disappeared around a corner. She had to follow. Squeak, creak. Squeak, creak. She hesitated at a wide archway leading into the finest room she’d ever seen.
“Come sit across from me,” Mrs. Davis invited kindly, near to a hearth where a warm fire roared. “I hear you know my dear friend’s daughter.”
“Scarlet.” Squeak, creak. She was thankful when she reached the fringed edges of a finely woven rug. Her wet shoes were much quieter as she padded around a beautiful sofa. Squish, squish. She hesitated. Mrs. Davis was busy pouring tea from an exquisite china pot. The matching cups looked too fragile to actually drink from.
“I hear you girls went to school together.”
“Yes, although Scarlet graduated last May.” She knew the question would come sooner or later, so she might as well speak of it up front. “I haven’t graduated. I wasn’t ready.”
“Yes, I heard you did not have the chance for formal schooling before you moved to our town.” Mrs. Davis eased onto one sofa and gestured to the one across from her. “Do you like sugar, dear?”
“Please.” Her skirts were still damp from the snow, so she eased gingerly onto the edge of the cushion. She had to set her reticule down and stop her hands from shaking as she reached for the tea handed to her. Clink, clink. The cup rattled against the saucer. She didn’t know if she was still shaky with nerves over her encounter with Lorenzo or over her interview with his mother.
A little help please, Lord. She thought of her pa, who was such a good father. She thought of her brother, who worked so hard to send money home. For them.
“You must know my Lorenzo.” Mrs. Davis stirred sugar into the second cup. “You two are about the same age.”
“Yes, although we were not in the same crowd at school.” She didn’t know how to say the first time she’d ever spoken to the handsome young man had been today. He’d been terribly gallant, just as she’d always known he would be. He treated everyone that way.
She knew better than to read anything into it.
“Tell me what kind of kitchen experience you have.” The older woman settled against the cushions, ready to listen.
“None.” Already she could see failure descending. She took a small sip of the hot tea and it strengthened her. “I’ve never held a job before, but I am a hard worker. I’ve cooked and cleaned for my pa and my brother since I was small.”
“And your mother?”
“She passed away when I was born.” She tried to keep the wistfulness out of her voice, the wish for a mother she’d never known.
“And your father never remarried, even with young children?” Concern, not censure, pinched in the corners of the lovely woman’s dark eyes.
“No. He said his love for Ma was too great. I don’t think he’s ever stopped loving her.” Ruby shrugged. Did she turn the conversation back to her kitchen skills? She wasn’t sure exactly what a kitchen maid was required to do.
“The same thing happened to my father when I was born.” Mrs. Davis looked sad for a moment. She was striking and exotic, with her olive complexion and dark brown, almost-black eyes. Ruby thought she’d never seen anyone more beautiful. The older woman set her cup on her saucer with a tiny clink. “He raised me the best he could. In our home there were maids to do the work and a nanny to help, but nothing can replace the hole left behind when someone is lost. You prepare meals, then?”
“Yes.” Her anxiety ebbed. She’d seen the great lady in town and, of course, at church, and Mrs. Davis had always seemed so regal and distant. Ruby hadn’t expected to feel welcome in her presence. Hopeful, she found herself smiling. “I’m not sure what you are looking for, but I know how to clean, I know how to do what I’m told, and I follow directions very well.”
“That’s exactly what Scarlet told me.” Mrs. Davis smiled. “Whomever I hire will be expected to assist the cook, to help do all the cleaning of the pots and pans and the entire kitchen. Do you know how to serve?”
“No.” She wilted. “I’ve never done anything as fancy as that.”
“I see.” Mrs. Davis paused a moment, studying her carefully from head to toe. It was an assessing look and not an unkind one, but Ruby felt every inch of the inspection.
What did the lady see? The gap in her shoe buttons? The made-over, handed-down dress?
“What about your schooling?” The older lady broke the silence.
Ruby hung her head. She tried not to, but her chin bobbed downward of its own accord. “I am still attending this year. I had hoped to catch up and be able to graduate in the spring, but my home circumstances have changed.”
“And you need to work,” Mrs. Davis said with understanding.
“Yes.” She was not the best candidate for the job. She was probably not the type of young woman right for the position. It hurt, and she tried not to let it show. A blur of color caught the corner of her eye. She turned just an inch to see beyond the wide windows. Outside, a man made his way through the thick curtains of snow, a familiar man.
Lorenzo.
Don’t look, Ruby. But did her eyes obey?
Not a chance.
He lifted a leather-gloved hand in a brief wave, and the snap of connection roared through her like the crackling and cozy heat from the fireplace. Hard not to remember his kind advice to her.
“I am very reliable, Mrs. Davis.” She was content with who she was, and she let the fine lady see it. “I have good values, I know the importance of keeping promises, and I will do my best never to let you down. If you hire me, I will arrive early, I will stay late, and I will work harder than anyone else. I would never leave you in a lurch by not showing up when expected.”
“That’s nice to hear, dear.” Mrs. Davis smiled fully, and it was Lorenzo’s smile she saw, honest and good-hearted and kind. “Now, tell me a little more about your background.”
He’d timed it perfectly, he thought, grateful as he seized Poncho’s reins, thanked the horse for standing so long in his traces and gave the leather lines a snap. His heart twisted hard at the sight of Ruby slipping out of the front door and into the snow. Was he in love with her? He feared love was too small a word.
He loved a woman who hardly knew he existed. He’d pined after her whenever he’d seen her in town and long before that, during their final year of school together. Not once had she ever looked his way. Until today. She’d accepted a ride from him, she’d smiled at him, she’d given him the faintest ghost of a hope.
Time to put his heart on the line and see if the lady rejected him or if he had a chance with her.
That was one chance he wanted more than anything on this earth. The marrow of his bones ached with it, the depth of his soul longed for it. He snapped the reins, sending Poncho out of the shelter of the barn and into the fierce beat of snow and wind. But did he feel the cold? Not a bit. Not when he kept Ruby in sight, slim, petite, as sweet as those snowflakes falling.
“C’mon, Poncho,” he urged. “Don’t lose her.”
She walked at a good clip, bent into the wind. Her blue dress flashed beneath the hem of her coat and twisted around her ankles, trying to hamper her. But she kept on going without looking back. He saw nothing more of her as the gusts shifted, stealing her from his sight. The storm couldn’t stop the longing in his soul to see her again.
This was his chance to be with her. To try to get past her shyness and see if she could like him. His stomach knotted up with nerves as he snapped Poncho’s reins, urging him to hurry, although he could barely see his horse’s rump in the whiteout conditions. Surely Ruby couldn’t have gotten far.
Poncho seemed to understand the importance of the mission, for the mighty gelding pushed into the storm, parting the thickly falling snow. He walked right up to Ruby and stopped of his own accord. Lorenzo grinned. It was nice having his horse’s support.
“Poncho? Is that you?” Ruby’s whimsical alto drifted to him through the storm. He could see the faint outline of her, already flocked white. “It is you. So that means…” She hesitated. “Lorenzo? What are you doing out in this weather again?”
Her words may be muffled from the wind and snow, but they carried a note of surprise. As if she truly had no idea what he was up to.
“I have an errand, which will take me by your place.” He pulled aside the buffalo robe he’d taken from the tack room. “Would you like a ride?”
“Well…” She wavered, considering.
“It will be an awfully difficult walk with this drifting snow.” He’d tried over and over to stop his feelings for Ruby. An impossible endeavor. He braced himself for her refusal and tried one more time. “You may as well let Poncho do the hard work.”
She edged closer, debating, her bottom lip caught beneath her front teeth.
“I appreciate Poncho’s offer.” The hint of a smile tucked in the corners of her mouth deepened. “I suppose his feelings would be hurt if I turned him down?”
“Very. He’s the one who insisted on stopping. Apparently he’s taken a shine to you.”
“Well, I think he’s a very nice horse. He’s as gentlemanly as my Solomon.” She disappeared, perhaps believing it was the horse who cared for her and not the driver. Although he could no longer see her, the faint murmur of her voice as she spoke with the gelding carried on the wind. Just a syllable and a scrap of a sentence, and then she reappeared at his side. “Poncho talked me into accepting.”
“He can be persuasive.” Lorenzo held out his hand to help her settle onto the seat beside him. Her hand felt small against his own, and the bolt of awareness that rushed through him went straight to his soul. He wasn’t used to feeling anything this strongly. “Besides, a storm like this can turn into a blizzard, something you don’t want to be out walking in.”
“It would be no less dangerous to a horse and sleigh.” She settled against the cushioned seat back. “I wonder why you would venture out. Surely there isn’t much ranching work this time of year?”
“I never said it was ranch work.” He tucked the buffalo robe around her, leaning close enough to catch the scent of honeysuckle. The vulnerable places within him tugged, defenseless against her nearness. He didn’t know why his heart moved so fast, determined to pull him along. He could not stop it as he gathered the reins, sending Poncho forward.
“In my worry over my shoe and my interview, I forgot to ask you. I heard your father was injured a while back. How is he?”
“He’s still recovering.” Lorenzo did his best not to let his anger take hold at the outlaws who had taken up residence west of town last summer and stolen a hundred head of cattle in a gun battle. “My father wasn’t as fortunate as the others the outlaw gang shot. He was hit in the leg bone and the back. He’s still struggling to walk with a cane.”
“I’m so sorry.” Sympathy polished her, making her inner beauty shine. Her outer beauty became breathtaking, so compelling he could not look away. Soft platinum locks breezed against the curving slope of her cheeks and the dainty cut of her jaw. “I noticed he wasn’t coming to church, but I didn’t know he was still struggling with his injuries. I don’t get to town much.”
“It’s not something Pa wants everyone to know. He’s a private man.” He adored his father. Gerard Davis was a proud and stubborn Welshman who could have lived leisurely on his inherited wealth but chose to put his life to good use by ranching on the Montana frontier. Lorenzo hoped he took after his pa.
“I won’t mention it, but I do intend to pray for him.” Her hands clasped together within the rather lumpy mittens made of uneven stitches. They looked twisted somehow, as if they had not faired well through a washing. But her earnest concern shone in her voice. “I hope he has a full recovery. I know how difficult it is for a man used to providing for his family when he is too injured to work.”
“It is tough on a man’s pride.”
“When I was little, Pa had an accident on our farm. A hay wagon overturned on him, and he was crushed. He was working alone and no one found him until my brother came with the mid-afternoon water jug. Rupert was too young to help free him. All he could do was run to the neighbors over a mile away.”
“I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” Interesting that they had this in common. He thought of the humble, quiet man who had begged him for a job. “He obviously recovered.”
“It took many years. We feared losing him at first. The doctor didn’t know how he survived. A true proof of grace,” she added, staring down at her misshapen mittens. “God was very good in letting us keep our pa. I don’t know what Rupert and I would have done if we’d lost him, too, so I understand what you might have gone through.”
“Worry, mostly. For a while we feared Pa might not walk again. Doc Frost said it was grace, too, that he’s up on his feet.”
“Grace is everywhere, when you look for it.”
“And when you need it most.” It was so easy to talk to her about what really mattered. Did she feel the same way? “How long ago was your pa injured?”
“I was five years old.” The sleigh bounced in a rut as Poncho turned onto the country road. She lifted a mittened hand to swipe snow out of her eyes. She felt closer somehow. Like they were no longer strangers.
“You were five? That must have been hard on your family.”
“Yes. Pa was laid up so long, we lost our crop. We couldn’t pay the doctor bills. Then we lost our land and our house, and we couldn’t pay any of the other bills, either. The bank took everything but Solomon. Rupert worked long days in a neighbor’s field to earn the money to keep him.”
“Did you have any other family to help?”
“My uncle and his wife finally took us in. It was a long spell until Pa was able to work again, and he was determined to pay back every cent of his debts still outstanding.”
“Most folks would have walked away. So your family was never able to get ahead?”
“It was a hardship paying off the debts, but it was the right thing.”
“Doing the right thing matters.” His dark blue eyes deepened with understanding. “It’s worth whatever the cost.”
“Exactly.” When her gaze met his, her heart beat as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. It mattered that he understood honor. So many hadn’t. Probably because he had honor of his own. She blushed, because it would be so easy to like him, to really like him. Just as it would be to read more into his act of kindness in offering her this ride.
“Your family owns land now, so your father must have paid off his debts.” He broke his gaze away to rein Poncho to keep him on the hard-to-see road. Even speckled with snow, Lorenzo’s handsomeness shone through.
Not that she should be noticing.
“Yes. Pa managed to save up enough for a mortgage, although we had to pay a lot of money down.” She picked at a too-tight stitch in her right mitten to keep from looking at him again. Not looking at him was for the best. “It is good to have our own land, but it’s only a hundred acres.”
“A hundred acres of untilled land. Let me guess. Your first harvest wasn’t as good as it could have been. A first crop on new land is always a small one.”
“And on top of that, most of our crop was damaged by a summer storm.” She blushed, still picking at the stitch. She could feel the tug of his gaze, the gentle insistence of his presence, and she wanted to look at him. But she was afraid of coming to care too much.
“Next harvest will be better,” he promised. “As long as there isn’t a drought or a twister or a flash flood.”
“Or another hailstorm,” she chimed in lightly. “Farming doesn’t come with a guarantee, but it would be a great blessing to have a good harvest, if we manage to stay on. My pa and brother work so hard. It would be a comfort for them.”
“Then I’ll put it in my prayers.”
His smile drew her gaze. Unable to resist, her eyes met his, and the world faded. The jarring of the sleigh ceased. The cold vanished, and there was only his sincerity, his caring and the quiet wish in her soul.
Don’t give in to it, Ruby. Don’t start dreaming.
“Here we are.” He tugged on the reins, Poncho drew to a stop. How had three miles passed so quickly?
“Why, young Mr. Davis.” Pa’s voice came from far away, stupefied. He gripped a pitchfork in one gloved hand, emerging from the small barn. “Ruby, is that you?”
“Yes, Pa.” Reality set in. She pushed off the buffalo robe and grabbed up her reticule. Snow slapped her cheeks as she tried to scramble out of the sleigh.
“Allow me.” Lorenzo caught her hand. His warmth, his size, his presence overwhelmed her. Her breath caught. She forgot every word of the English langage. Her knees wobbled when she tried to stand on them. Little flashes of wishes filled her, but she tamped them down as he withdrew his hand.
“What are you doing on this side of the county?” Pa asked, curiously. “Looking at the property for sale down the way?”
“Not in this weather.” Lorenzo released her hand. “I wanted to make sure Ruby got home safe in this storm. I hear you have a horse with a shoe problem. I happen to have my tools in the back of the sleigh. If you wouldn’t mind, I can take care of that problem for you.”
Her jaw dropped. She stared, stunned, as Pa led the way to the barn, taking Poncho by the bridle bits. All she could see was the straight strong line of Lorenzo’s wide shoulders through the storm until the thick curtain of snow closed around him, leaving her standing alone on the rickety, front doorstep of their lopsided shanty. That Lorenzo Davis. He was being charitable, that was all, but her heart would never forget.
Chapter Three
“And he went into the barn with your father?” Kate peered through dark lashes, astonished as she sorted through her embroidery floss.
“And he re-shod Solomon for you?” Newlywed Lila looked up from stitching on a new shirt for her husband. “Out of the blue, just like that?”
“Without being asked.” The tea kettle rumbled, so Ruby set aside her crocheting. The wooden chair scraped against the wood floor as she rose. It was a tight squeeze to have all seven of them in the front room, but it was warm and cozy, and she loved having the chance to host their sewing circle. “You could have knocked me down with a feather, I was so shocked. I guess this proves the rumors true. Young Mr. Davis is as nice as a man can be.”
“That’s what we have been trying to tell you.” Red-headed Scarlet set down her tatting to get up to help with the tea. “He’s amazing. That’s why we have all been in love with him at one time or another.”
“Not all of us,” Fiona corrected as she stitched on baby clothes. Her wedding ring winked in the lamplight as her needle slipped into a seam. The pleats of her dress hid the small bowl of her pregnant stomach. “I’ve always thought Lorenzo was nice, but I was never smitten.”
“Not even a little?” Ruby set the tea to steeping in the old ironware pot. “Lorenzo is terribly handsome. Are you sure you didn’t like him at all?”
“I’m positive.” Fiona’s smile came so easily.
“He adored you from afar. We all saw it,” Scarlet added, taking a knife to the johnnycake cooling on the nearby table.
“You broke his heart when you married Ian. Don’t deny it.” Earlee gave her golden curls a toss as she looked up from basting an apron ruffle. When she smiled, the whole world smiled, too. “If I were penning a story about him, I would have him fall in love with one of you three. A sweet, gentle love with lots of longing and a perfect happily-ever-after.”
A perfect happily-ever-after. Didn’t that sound romantic? She tamped down her sigh right along with the memory of riding alongside Lorenzo in the sleigh. Her hands shook as she carried the pot and the stack of battered, mismatched tin cups to the circle of chairs in the sitting area.
“It sounds like a story I would read,” Lila quipped, the voracious reader of the group. “So, Earlee, who would you match up with Lorenzo?”
“Me!” Kate spoke up before Earlee could as she separated a thin strand of embroidery floss from a green skein. “I would be perfect for him.”
“True,” Meredith agreed, head bent over her latest patchwork quilt block. “Except doesn’t he spend a lot of time with Narcissa Bell?”
“Oh,” they all sighed together. Narcissa had been their arch nemesis for as long as anyone could remember.
“I suppose it’s only a matter of time before we hear of their engagement.” Kate licked the end of the floss and threaded it through the eye of her needle. “It’s inevitable.”
“It’s expected,” Lila agreed. “To hear my stepmother talk, their engagement party will be any day now.”
“They are both from wealthy families.” Ruby couldn’t explain why pain hitched through her ribs.
“And their mothers are close friends,” Earlee chimed in.
“But so are Scarlet and his mother.” She lowered the pot to rest on the short end table Pa had made, which now sat in the center of their circle, a coffee table of sorts. Her hands shook inexplicably. She wasn’t disappointed, so no way could that be disappointment weighing like a lead brick on her heart.
“Yes, but Lorenzo and I don’t keep the same friends.” Scarlet bent over her work, knife in hand. “Did you see Narcissa and Lorenzo at church on Sunday?”
“Sitting side by side.” Kate gave a long-suffering sigh. “Right there in the middle of their families.”
Ruby hadn’t noticed because she didn’t have a crush on the man. She couldn’t afford to have one. Romance was not in her plans. She didn’t have time for it. She wasn’t free to pursue her own life. Her father and brother needed her to help save the farm. And besides, if their efforts failed, she would have to leave town.
She wasn’t exactly the best candidate for romance. Not for any man. As for Lorenzo, he was a dream she didn’t dare have. So why did she ache down to the marrow of her bones as she crossed the room? She couldn’t focus on the conversation surging around her, the laughter and friendly banter ringing like merry bells. She lifted down a stack of mismatched plates.
“How did the interview go?” Scarlet lowered her voice, so the others wouldn’t hear. She cut the final slice of johnnycake.
“Good, but I’m not right for the position. Mrs. Davis is awful fancy. Nice, but fancy.” She set the butter dish next to the plates on the table. She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter that she wouldn’t get the job. “I would be totally uncomfortable in that house. I’d worry about everything—leaving dirt from my shoes on the floor, turning around and knocking some expensive doodad to the ground, spilling something on those beautiful carpets. What a relief I’m not suitable.”
“That’s too bad. I thought you would be perfect. My mother said so right to Mrs. Davis. I heard her.”
“Thanks, Scarlet. I appreciate it more than you know.”
“So, does this mean your family will have to move?”
“I think so, since I won’t be getting that job.”
“I’m so sorry, Ruby.”
“Me, too.” She wished she felt comfortable saying more, but she wasn’t good at expressing her feelings. They made her feel awkward and exposed, but she knew Scarlet understood. Best friends had that ability.
The cornmeal’s sweet, warm scent and aroma of melting butter had her mouth watering. She’d been too nervous to eat all of her breakfast, fearing the interview and too unsettled to eat lunch afterwards. Leftover nerves from meeting Mrs. Davis and not because of her encounter with Lorenzo.
At least, that’s what she told herself.
“So, what happened after he fixed Solomon’s shoe?” Earlee asked, setting down her work to come help distribute the cake. “Did you offer him a nice, hot cup of tea?”
“And then lunch?” Lila inquired.
“And afterwards, a nice, long chat around the table?” Kate knotted the end of her thread.
“You did invite him in, didn’t you?” Scarlet asked, two plates of cake in hand.
“Well, no. It wasn’t like that. He and Pa were visiting in the barn.”
“Did you even go out there?” Fiona set her sewing aside to accept a plate of cake.
All eyes turned on her.
“No. Why would I? I’m not as brazen as the bunch of you.”
Laughter flourished, echoing off the walls cheerfully. She couldn’t very well admit that she’d kept an eye on the window, glancing out from time to time, straining to see a glimpse of Lorenzo through the snow. She hadn’t. She’d only spotted her father stomping the wet off his boots on the lean-to steps. He’d been alone.
“Next time, go out with a nice hot cup of tea for him,” Meredith advised.
“And some of this cake,” Earlee added. “If he takes one bite of this, he just might propose.”
“Oh, I doubt that.” She retrieved the last plate from the table, but her stomach had bunched in knots. She was no longer hungry. “He drove off without a word to me, but Pa was mighty pleased with the shoeing job. I’m surprised Pa accepted his charity.”
“Maybe he did it for you, Ruby.” Scarlet sounded thoughtful as she brought the last plates of cake into the sitting area.
“For me? No. Don’t even start thinking that.” She had best forget the snap of connection when Lorenzo had taken her hand. Wishful thinking on her part, that was all it could be. “I have Pa to care for. He’s the only man in my life. Besides, Lorenzo has Narcissa. Who can compete with that?”
“I wouldn’t mind trying,” Scarlet spoke up, making everyone laugh.
Ruby settled into a chair, laughing with her friends. How much time would they have together? She didn’t know. That question haunted her as talk turned to other handsome bachelors in town. If one particular bachelor lingered in her thoughts, she didn’t have to admit it.
Lorenzo leaned back against the chair cushion, grateful to be sitting in front of a warm fire at the end of a tough afternoon. Half frozen, he soaked in the fire’s blazing heat, hoping to thaw. After returning from Ruby’s home, he’d saddled up and resumed his afternoon shift in the fields, checking cattle, hauling feed and taking a pickax to the animals’ water supply, which had frozen up solid.
Ruby. Thoughts of her could chase away the cold. He stretched his feet toward the fire. He still didn’t know what his chances were, but she’d been easy to talk to. He would like to talk with her some more. But what were the chances of that if she didn’t get the maid’s position? She kept to herself, she lived on the other side of town, and their paths rarely crossed. He didn’t want to go back to sneaking gazes at her in church because his mother or one of her friends were going to catch him at it, and then his secret love for Ruby would no longer be private.
“Hot tea for you.” The upstairs maid was doubling her duties and slid a tray onto the table at his elbow with a bobbing curtsy. “Cook added some of those scones you like.”
“Thank you.” He didn’t wait for her footsteps tapping on the polished oak floor to fade before he wrapped his hand around the scalding hot cup. He was so cold, he could barely feel the warmth. He blew on the steaming brew before he sipped it. Hot liquid slid down his throat, warming him from the inside. The first step to thawing out.
Ruby. His thoughts boomeranged right back to her. Why her? Her big, blue eyes, her rosebud smile, her sweetness had snared him the instant he’d laid eyes on her. He didn’t want to feel this way, he wasn’t ready to feel this way. He had a lot to learn about ranching, he had a lot to prove as his father’s foreman. And responsibility? That was a huge burden on his shoulders these days. He was in charge of providing for the family and preserving the Davis legacy. No, this wasn’t the time to be smitten with anyone.
But his heart kept falling in love with Ruby a little more day by day, taking him with it. He couldn’t stop it. He wouldn’t if he could. He wanted Ruby to be his fate, the destiny God had in store for him.
“Lorenzo.” His mother swept into the room. “Look at you. You were out in that weather too long.”
“I’m tough.” He’d learned from his father not to let excuses stand in the way. “Work needed to be done, so I did it.”
“Yes, but you’ve gotten frostbite.” She hauled a footstool close and tried to look at his hands.
“Nothing serious.” He refused to surrender his teacup. “No fussing, Ma. I’m not twelve anymore.”
“You are my only son.” She smiled, attempting to hide her weariness.
“How did the interviewing go?”
“So many women showed up for one opening. My heart goes out to them all. Every one of them was in sincere need of employment.” She swept a strand of black hair from her eyes, troubled and worried as she always was for other people. “I can only choose one. I feel bad for all the others. What will they do?”
He thought of Ruby, of her very humble home, her unreliable shoes and her situation. Her family clearly needed the income her employment would bring. He suspected many of the others who had come during a brisk, winter storm were in as much need. “I don’t have an answer. I’ve had the same worries ever since I took over the hiring for the ranch. Have you decided on anyone yet?”
“I’ve narrowed it down to a short list, but how to decide from there? I do not know.” She stole a corner off one of his scones and popped it into her mouth. “One of them was a young lady about your age. You went to school with her.”
“Ruby.” His mother didn’t miss much. He tried to hide his reaction by taking a quick swallow of tea. The scalding liquid rolled over his tongue, nearly blistering him. He coughed, sputtering.
“Oh, I see.” His mother paused thoughtfully. “She seemed like a nice girl.”
“Nice? I suppose.” As if he was going to tell his mother what he really thought. Fortunately, he had a burning tongue to distract him. “She would be a reliable worker.”
“Yes. I thought she was very earnest, but she has no experience.”
“She could learn.” He hoped he sounded casual, not like a man hoping. He wanted Mother to hire her and make a difference in her life. “She takes care of her family. She does the cooking and cleaning. That’s experience, right?”
“I suppose.” His mother rose. “I have some pondering to do. So, have you thought about who you want to invite to our pre-Christmas ball? It’s getting closer, and I have yet to get out the last of my invitations.”
“And you’re mentioning this to me why, exactly?” He sipped more tea, taking refuge behind the cup. Had he made a strong enough case for Ruby’s sake? He couldn’t tell by the look on his mother’s face.
“Because I’ll want to know so I can send the young lady an invitation. It’s time you started thinking about a wife. I’m looking forward to the next Davis generation.”
“You mean grandchildren?”
“Of course.” His mother laughed, delighted. “I see that blush. It’s as I thought. You have your eye on someone, and I know who.”
“You do?” Tea sloshed over the rim. His heart slammed to a stop. Fine, so he’d been a little obvious. “I admit, I do have someone in mind.”
“Excellent. You know the Bells are on my guest list anyway, but I wanted to send a special one to Narcissa.” Poor, misguided Ma. She’d leaped to the wrong conclusion.
“I’m not escorting Narcissa.” Not again. “Normally I let you do what you want, but not this time, Ma.”
“Why?” Confused, his mother slipped onto the chair across from him. “I thought all that time you two spend together meant something.”
“Mostly arranged by you or her mother. It’s very hard to say no to either one of you.”
“Yes, but she sits beside you in church every Sunday.”
“Coincidence on my part. I’m thinking intentionally on hers and her mother’s.”
“I’m terribly disappointed.”
“Of course you want me to marry your best friend’s daughter, Ma, but that’s not going to happen. We’re just friends.”
“I see. Well then, who? There’s plenty of suitable young women in town. Surely her family is on my list?”
“I’ll take care of inviting her myself.” Just as he’d suspected. This was going to be a disappointment to his mother. He was sorry for it. He hated letting her down. He thought of Ruby. How would his parents handle it if they knew the truth?
“I think I hear your father coming. Oh, Jerry, it’s you.”
“Selma, there you are.” Pa’s cane tapped on the hardwood, and although he winced in pain with every step, he transformed when he saw his wife. “I see you are keeping our boy company. You did great work today, Renzo.”
“I did my best.”
“Can’t ask for anything more than that. You’re doing a fine job. Better than your old man can do.” His father’s chest puffed out, full of pride, as he slowly limped across the room. “I’m obsolete.”
“Never you, Pa. I can’t wait to hand you back the reins.” Even as he said the words, they all knew they were only a wish. Gerard Davis had been injured far too badly to ever return to the rigors of ranching work. In deference to his father’s hopes, he shrugged lightly. “I miss being bossed around by you.”
“I miss doing the bossing. But I get my fill on a daily basis. What’s this I overheard about your escorting a young gal to our ball? Selma, I thought we agreed you wouldn’t push the boy.”
“I wasn’t pushing, merely suggesting.” His mother sounded confused as she held out her arms and wrapped them around her husband. The pair cuddled, glad to see each other after being separated for much of the day. “I want to see Lorenzo settled.”
“Yes, dear, but he has enough new responsibility to manage. This ranch is the largest in the county. Renzo ought to be concentrating on learning all there is to know about our land, crops and animals.”
“He’s doing a fine job. Goodness.” Ma’s gentle amusement rang in her chuckle as she gave her husband one final hug. She swept backward, love lighting her eyes. “Gerard, I don’t see why Lorenzo needs to hold off. You managed to run a ranch and court me at the same time.”
“Yes, but I wasn’t barely twenty years old. Renzo’s mature for his age, but I don’t want him distracted. I know how distracting a pretty lady can be.” Pa winked, always the charmer, and Ma blushed prettily.
Ruby was definitely distracting. She was all he could see—snowflakes sifting over her to catch in her hair, big, blueberry eyes shyly looking away, the blush on her heart-shaped face when he’d taken her hand in his to help her from the sleigh.
This wasn’t the right time in his life, and his parents wouldn’t like it, but his heart was set. Nothing could stop it.
“Renzo? Where did you take off to this morning?” Pa leaned heavily on his cane, tapping closer. “Was there a problem I didn’t know about?”
“My trip wasn’t ranch related.” His pulse skipped a beat. What else had his father seen?
“He drove past the window and picked up one of the applicants. He must have taken her home.” Pa’s tone gentled. “She looked like a dear. That Ballard girl, I think. I know her father from church. He’s a good man.”
“The poor girl.” Ma settled onto the sofa, compassionate as always. “My heart aches for her. Being both daughter and woman of the house. They must be as poor as church mice. I’ve seen her getting clothes out of the church’s donation barrel. It was all I could do not to rush up and give her a big hug when she was here.”
Please, he thought. Please give her a chance. A job would mean she could stay in town. That he would have a hope of winning her.
“Selma, I know that look.” Pa chuckled as he eased painfully onto the cushion beside his wife. “Son, something tells me your mother has just made up her mind about the new maid.”
“Those friends of yours are sure nice girls.” Pa knocked snow off his boots on the doorstep. “You all seemed to have a good time.”
“We did.” She doused the last tin cup in the rinse water, glad to see her father back safely from town. Since Solomon’s shoe was fixed, there had been errands needing to be done. “We always have great fun together, and I got a lot of help with my crocheting.”
“That’s nice, Ruby-bug.” He shouldered the door closed against the whirling flakes, and the cold followed him in as he unloaded the groceries he’d bought on the far end of the table. It wasn’t much—a bag of beans, a package of tea, small sacks of cornmeal and oatmeal—but she was grateful for it. When Pa swept off his hat, he looked more tired than usual. “I’m glad you made friends here.”
“Me, too.” She rubbed the dishtowel over the mug, drying it carefully. With each swipe, she felt her stomach fall a notch. Had her father stopped by the post office? Was there a letter from Rupert? Her brother had been hoping to send news of a job.
Sorrow crept into Pa’s eyes, and he sat down heavily on a kitchen chair. “I didn’t want to say anything to you earlier, but I had chance for work in town, unloading cargo at the depot. It went to someone else. A younger man.”
“Oh, Papa.” She set down the towel and the cup and circled around to his side. He was a proud man, a strong man, but hardship wore on him. He fought so hard to provide for them, and had struggled for so long. Just when it looked as if life was going to get easier, the storm had hit. Without a crop, there had been no income, and they were back to desperation again.
How little of their meager savings remained? She placed a hand on his brawny shoulder. He was such a good man, and love for him filled her up. They did not have much, but they had what they needed. They had what mattered most.
“I got a letter from Rupert.” Her father rubbed his face, where worry dug deep lines. “He sent money.”
That explained the groceries. She hated seeing Pa like this. He’d always been invincible, always a fighter, even when he’d been injured. Every memory she had of him was one of strength and determination. He’d always been a rock, the foundation of their family, who never wavered.
Not tonight. He looked heart-worn and hopeless. Like a man who was too weary to fight. The shadows crept visibly over him as the daylight dimmed. Sunset came early this time of year, and she needed to light a candle, to save on precious kerosene, but she could not leave her father’s side, not when he bowed his head, looking beaten.
Was their situation far worse than he’d told her? She bit her bottom lip, knotted up with worry. Pa did have a habit of protecting her. If only she could have gotten the job. She winced at the dismal interview she’d had, the squeaky shoes, the rattling teacup, her lack of experience and polish. “I will scour the town tomorrow, Pa. There has to be something I can do. Sweep floors, do laundry at the hotel, muck stalls at Foster’s Dairy.”
She would beg if she had to. Her father and brother had been carrying too much burden for way too long. She ached for them, struggling so hard against odds that turned out to be impossible. The dream of owning their own land and being farmers again was fading. At this point in Pa’s life, it would likely be gone forever. She knelt before him and laid her hand on his. “I can be persuasive. I will talk someone into hiring me. Please don’t worry so much.”
“Oh, my Ruby.” Pa cupped her face with both of his big, callused hands, making her feel safe. “You are a good girl. I’m afraid the news in Roop’s letter wasn’t good.”
“He found you a job, and we have to leave after all.” She squeezed her eyes shut for just one brief moment to hide the stab of pain ripping through her. It was selfish to want to stay when it was a burden for her family, so she firmed her chin. “This will be better for you. A job. Think what this will mean.”
“No, honey, there isn’t a job. Roop lost his. The mill closed down. It’s gone out of business. He’s coming home without his last two paychecks. The company promised but in the end couldn’t pay him.” Pa looked far too old for his years as he squared his shoulders, fighting to find enough internal strength to keep going. “It’s a blow, but I don’t want you worrying, Ruby. You must stay in school.”
“I won’t do it.” She brushed a kiss on her father’s stubbled cheek. “You know me. When I set my mind to something, nothing but God can stop me.”
“And even He would give pause before trying,” Pa quipped, the love in his eyes unmistakable. “We have to trust Him to see us through this. He’s watching over us.”
“I know, Pa.” She whirled away to light a candle or two, thankful for the bountiful summer garden she’d been able to grow. Selling extra vegetables to the stores in town had given her enough pocket money to make plenty of candles and soap to see them through the winter. It was a small thing to have contributed, but she’d been proud to do it. The warmth of her friends’ laughter lingered in the home, making it less bleak as she struck a match.
Encouraged, she watched the wick flare, and the light chased back the shadows. She shook out the match, shivering as the wind blew cold through the walls. Faith was like a candle dispelling the darkness, and she lit another, determined to believe they could make their upcoming mortgage payment, that they would not be homeless by Christmas.
Chapter Four
The snow whirled on a bitter night’s wind as Lorenzo guided his horse and sleigh down the drift-covered driveway. Lanterns mounted on the dashboard of the sleigh cast just enough light to see the dark yard and front step of the shanty. Poncho drew to a stop before the doorway. Ruby’s doorway.
Her adorable presence stayed with him like a melody, and a smile stretched the corners of his mouth as he climbed from beneath the robes. His boots crunched in the snow, icy flakes stung his face, but he kept going, untouched, seeing Ruby through a crack between the curtains.
She sat in a wooden chair, holding a crochet needle and thread up to a single candle’s light to make a slow, careful stitch. Her platinum hair gleamed golden-silver. Her heart-shaped face, flushed from the heat of the fire and caressed by the candlelight could have belonged to a princess in a fairy tale. Wholesome and good, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Captivated, he knocked snow off his hat as it continued to fall.
The muffled tap of footsteps tore his attention away from Ruby. Jon Ballard ambled into sight inside the house, reminding Lorenzo of his mission. He had a message for Ruby, one that would make her life easier. He took the few snowy steps to the front door and knocked. His pulse rattled against his rib cage. He was suddenly nervous, anxious with the anticipation of seeing her again.
The door swung open, and her father stood inside the threshold, surprise marking his lined face, proof of how hard the last few months had been for the family. “Young Mr. Davis, is that you again? What are you doing out on these roads this time of evening?”
“I’m on another errand. My father wanted to send one of the hired men, but I volunteered.” His gaze arrowed straight to her. Her crochet work had fallen to her lap. She stared at him with worry crinkling her forehead. Worry. He hated it. He squared his shoulders, glad he could fix that. He pulled the folded parchment from his pocket. “I have a letter for Ruby. From my mother.”
“For me?” She set aside her needle and thread, rose to her feet, and every movement she made was endearing—the pad of her stockinged feet on the floor, the rustle of her skirt, the twist of her bottom lip as she swept closer. The place she had opened within him opened more, widening his heart.
Vaguely, he was aware of Jon stepping back, disappearing from sight. Ruby remained at the center of his senses. Ruby, wringing her slender hands. Ruby, in a very old, calico work dress, the color faded from so many washings. The careful patches sewed with tiny, even stitches were too numerous to count. As she stepped into the puddle of nearby candlelight, her beauty and goodness outshone everything.
“It was nice of you to come so far in this cold.” Shy, she lowered her gaze from his. “Just to tell me I didn’t get the job.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because the interview was a disaster. The missing button, my wet shoes, I dripped all over the floor, I was completely wrong for the position.” Pink flushed her cheeks and her nose, making her twice as sweet. “I’m sorry you had to drive so far in this weather. Your mother could have posted the letter.”
“I suppose.” This was why he’d come so far in frigid temperatures. So he could see the happiness chase away the worry from her big, beautiful eyes. “Ma wants you to start working for her first thing Monday morning. Will that be a problem?”
“What?” Her jaw dropped. Disbelief pinched adorably across her sweetheart face. “I couldn’t have gotten the job. I have no experience.”
“My mother liked you, so she’s hired you.” He held out the envelope. “Here are the specifics.”
“Really? Oh, Pa, did you hear?” She took the parchment. Delight chased away the worry lines, put blue sparkles into her irises and drew a beautiful smile. “I got the job. I got it.”
“I’m mighty proud of you, Ruby-bug.” Jon Ballard’s love shone in his voice, love for his precious daughter.
Lorenzo thought she was precious, too.
“Oh, thank your mother for me. I mean, I will thank her on Monday, too, when I see her. But, oh, just thank you.” She clutched the letter tight until it crinkled.
“I will tell her. Your interview went better than you thought.”
“But how? It’s a complete and total mystery.”
“No mystery.” His reassurance held notes of humor and kindness. “You deserve this, Ruby. My mother wants you to start at six o’clock sharp.”
“I’ll be there early, just like I promised.” This was too good to be true. She’d been so sure she had failed, that it was impossible, and yet here she was, an employee. She had her first job, she would be earning a wage. A real wage. Joy bubbled through her, impossible to contain. She had a job! “I hope I don’t break anything. Or spill something. I don’t know anything about serving.”
Good going, Ruby. Point out to your employer’s son exactly how much of a mistake his mother had made. She laughed. “I’m so happy and anxious and everything.”
“I understand.” The deep shine of his dark blue gaze met hers, sincere and powerful enough to knock the beat out of her heart. Her happiness dimmed, her soul stilled as he tipped his hat, and she could not look away. She could see the shadow of day’s growth on his strong, square jaw. His masculine strength shrank the shanty and made every bit of air vanish. No man on earth could be as amazing as Lorenzo
Candlelight flickered over him, caressing the powerful angles of his face and gleaming darkly on the thick, dark fall of his hair. She lost the ability to breathe as he took a step backward into the darkness. Snow sifted over him like spun sugar.
Don’t start wishing, Ruby.
“I shouldn’t leave my horse standing in this cold. Good night, Ruby. I will see you on Monday.”
“On Monday.” The words stuttered over her tongue, her legs went weak, and she grasped the door frame before she tumbled face-first onto the snowy step. Monday. A different kind of panic clutched her, cinching tight around her middle.
She would see Lorenzo every day. She would be in his house, be in proximity with his family and washing his dishes. The warm place in her heart remembered his touch, his gallantry, his kindness. It made a girl want to dream.
Focus, Ruby. She no longer had time for schoolgirl wishes. Pa’s tired gait drummed on the floorboards behind her, coming closer. In the dying storm, Lorenzo was a shadow, then a hint of a shadow and finally nothing more. The beat of Poncho’s hooves faded until there was only the whispering hush of falling snow and the winter’s cold.
She closed the door firmly against the darkness. Discarded wishes followed her like snowflakes in the air as she headed toward the stove to make a cup of tea for her father. She had the chance to make a real difference for her family. Monday was what she ought to think about. Monday, when she started her new job.
In the predawn light, Ruby slid off of Solomon in the shelter of the Davis’s barn. Breathing in the scents of hay and warm horse, she glanced around. Stalls were filled with animals eating out of their troughs. What did she do with Solomon? Where did she take him?
Something tugged at her hat, knocking it askew on her head. Dear old Solomon’s whiskery lips nibbled the brim and the side of her face in comfortable adoration. They had been friends for a long time. She patted his neck and leaned against him, her sweet boy. “I’m sure I’m supposed to put you somewhere, but I didn’t think to ask when Lorenzo delivered the letter.”
Solomon’s nicker rumbled low in his throat, a comforting answer of sorts. Fortunately, she did not have to wonder for long as footsteps tapped her way, echoing in the dark aisle. She couldn’t see his face, but she would know those mile-wide shoulders anywhere.
“Good morning, Ruby.” Lorenzo Davis ambled out of the shadows. Two huge buckets of water sloshed at his sides as he made his way to the end stall. “You are early.”
“Only twenty minutes.” She’d meant to be earlier, but the roads had been slow going with a thick layer of ice. It had been all Solomon could do to keep his footing. “I’m surprised to see you packing water. Isn’t that the stable boy’s job?”
“Sure, but I help with the barn work.” His answer came lightly as he hefted one of the buckets over the wooden rail. Water splashed into a washtub. “Stay back, Sombrero, or you’ll get wet again.”
Inside the stall, a horse neighed his opinion. A hoof stomped as if in a protest or a demand to hurry up with the water. The man had a way with animals, she had to give him credit for that. His powerful stance, his rugged masculinity and his ease as he lifted the second ten-gallon bucket and emptied it etched a picture into her mind. That picture took on life and color, and when she blinked, it remained. Another image of the man she could not forget. Her soul sighed just a little. She couldn’t help it.
Solomon nudged her a second time, gently reminding her she was doing it again—staring off into thin air when there was work to be done. She shook her head, cleared her thoughts and gently patted her gelding’s shoulder. “Where can I put up my boy?”
“I’ll take him.” Lorenzo set down the bucket and held out a hand to Solomon. “You remember me, don’t you, old fella?”
The swaybacked animal snorted in answer. His ears pricked, he snuffled Lorenzo’s palm with his muzzle, gray with age. His low-noted nicker was clearly a horsy greeting. Did every living creature adore the man?
“Are you nervous about starting your new job?” He caught Solomon’s reins. If he noticed the leather straps were wearing thin, he didn’t comment.
“Just a tad.” That was an understatement, but she wasn’t about to admit it. All she could see was doom. So much could go wrong to cause Mrs. Davis to change her mind or for the stern-looking Lucia to fire her. Anxiety clawed behind her rib cage like a trapped rodent.
Just breathe, she told herself. No need to panic.
Lorenzo’s intensely dark blue eyes glowed softly as if he cared. While his gaze searched hers, she felt as if she were the only woman on earth. His slow smile spread wonderfully across his mouth. Like the sun dawning, his smile could light up her life if she let it.
“Everything will be just fine.” Lorenzo’s hand settled on her shoulder, a pleasantly heavy weight meant to be comforting.
It wasn’t. Why was he touching her? The panic clawing inside her chest doubled. Maybe he was trying to soothe her, but it unnerved her. Air squeezed through her too-tight throat in a little hiccup.
His hand didn’t move, his touch remained like out of a dream. Was she really smiling up at him, so close she could see the nearly black threads in his irises and the smooth-shaven texture of his square jaw? Good thing she was independent, because a woman less confident might be tempted to lay her cheek on the powerful plane of his chest.
Not her, but some other woman might let herself dream what it would be like when he folded his iron-hewn arms around her and held her tightly.
It was a good thing she had her feet firmly on the ground. Because that wasn’t what she wanted. Nope, not at all. What she wanted was to save her family’s farm. To lessen her father’s burden.
Solomon blew out his breath, drawing her out of her thoughts. Lorenzo moved away, rubbed the gelding’s nose. “Go in the back door. Just follow the path around the side of the house.”
“Take good care of my boy.” She lifted her chin, trying to shake away the effects from being too near to the man. He was an absolute hazard.
“I’ll treat him like my own. Right, Solomon?” That irresistible kindness rumbled in the low notes of his voice.
Her heart fluttered against her will as she watched both horse and man head down the dim aisle.
A little strength, Lord, please. Strength to resist the man’s warmth and decency, strength to put one foot in front of the other and face the grim Lucia, strength to make it through the day without making any mistakes. It was a lot to ask for, but she thought of her father’s burdens and added, for my pa.
Horse hooves clomped behind her, and she spun around. A roan horse flared his nostrils at her, bared his teeth and careened to a stop. On his back sat a woman she did not know, who was a few years older.
“So you are the new girl.” Her tone was not friendly. Her green eyes squinted with a hint of disdain. “You must have been a pity hire.”
A pity hire? Heat stained her face. Lorenzo heard that. He might have been gracious enough to disregard her patched shoes and secondhand dress, but this woman was not. Ruby lifted her chin higher. This job mattered to her. That’s why she was here. Not to compete with another maid for his attention.
“Lorenzo.” The newcomer brightened when she spotted the boss’s son. She swung down from her horse with the air of a princess leaving her throne. Her attention riveted to the man stroking Solomon’s cheek. Her smile was breathtaking. “I didn’t know you would be in the barn this morning. This is my lucky day.”
“Not mine, as I’ve been packing water.” His smile had vanished, but his kindness had not. “I’ll have Thacker see to your roan. Mae, this is Ruby.”
The moment between them had broken. With the gelding’s reins in hand, he took a step backward and tipped his hat in farewell. A tiny pain clutched behind her sternum as he withdrew into the shadows. She was not smitten with the man. She was utterly in charge of her heart.
“You won’t last the day.” Mae shook her head as if she were an experienced judge of such things. “Whatever happens, don’t think I will do any of your work.”
“No, of course not, I—” But the woman took off, leaving her alone in the barn. A horse stretched his neck over the top of his railing and tried to catch the hem of her scarf with his teeth.
That could have gone better, she thought as she tucked the scarf around her throat. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. At least there would be no shoe disasters today. Last night, she’d spent an hour and a half tightening and repairing all the threads holding her shoe buttons in place. Confidently, she launched out of the barn and into the snow.
That was the key. To be confident. To visualize a good outcome instead of disaster. This would be her new attitude. She breathed the wintry air deep into her lungs until they burned and breathed out great, white clouds of fog. Her shoes crunched on the path, her skirts rustled and swirled with her gait. She had to concentrate on her work and not on Lorenzo. Forget how handsome he’d looked. Forget how kind. Make her heart stop fluttering because he’d smiled at her.
Her family’s livelihood hung in the balance.
The sky began to change to a lighter shade of gray. The beauty of the still plains, sleeping snow and amazing world buoyed her spirits. The enormous house rose up in front of her with bright windows and smoke curling from numerous chimneys. Far up ahead, Mae yanked open a door. A few moments later, Lucia appeared on the threshold, gesturing impatiently. “Let’s get you in a uniform. You can’t work for the mistress wearing that.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The panic returned, clawing her with a vengeance. She hurried up the steps and the minute her wet shoes hit the floor, squeak. Creak.
Great, Ruby. Just great. She slipped out of her coat and hung it on a nearby wall peg.
“Definitely a pity hire,” Mae whispered from the far side of the foyer.
Not knowing what to say, Ruby dutifully followed the head housekeeper. Squeak, creak.
It was going to be a very long day.
A weak sun filtered through a thin blanket of quick-moving clouds. Although at its zenith, the bright disc gave no warmth. The arctic winds dominated, burning the high Montana prairie with its bitter chill. In his warmest coat, Lorenzo’s teeth chattered as he trudged the snow-covered path to the house. He could tell himself he hurried along the path at a breakneck speed because he couldn’t wait to unthaw in front of a fire with a cup of tea and a hot meal, but that would be a lie.
His gaze searched through the main-floor windows. His toe caught on a snow clump. His right foot skidded on a patch of ice. Did he watch where he was going? No, he didn’t lift his eyes from the house. He spotted his mother in the parlor, working at her embroidery. Lucia bustled around the dining room table, checking that everything was ready for the family’s meal. He spotted Mae at a window above the kitchen’s water pump but saw no sign of Ruby.
He had thought of nothing else all morning. He’d finished his barn work, hauled hay and taken a pick once again to the cattle’s water supply. He’d spread out bags of feed corn and stopped to doctor a cow who had a painful run-in with a coyote, but Ruby stayed front and center in his mind, a beautiful song he could not forget.
“Renzo!” Boots pounded on the path behind him. His cousin, Mateo, fell in stride beside him. Mateo was a few years older, a few inches shorter and a dedicated cattleman. “You spent a lot of time in the horse barn this morning.”
“Not much more than usual.” Snow scudded across the pathway ahead of him as he debated slowing down or speeding up. His cousin had a sharp eye; he didn’t miss much. Not ready to have a member of his family aware that he was sweet on Ruby, he launched forward, faster. If Mateo wanted to give him a hard time, let him at least have to work for it.
“Sure, you do your fair share with the horses, but did I see you tending one of the maids’ horses?” Mateo caught up, breathing hard. “Don’t tell me you have an interest in that ancient, swayback horse she was riding.”
“Sure I do. Solomon and I are old friends.” Maybe humor would distract his cousin, because the back door loomed closer and this was not a conversation he wanted anyone in the house to overhear. “I wanted to check on his shoe. I re-shod him yesterday.”
“Oh, so that was the errand you went on.” Mateo didn’t look fooled. “Whoever the young woman is, she’s awful pretty. She’s easy on the eyes.”
“Maybe you should stop looking.” A furious power radiated through him as strong as iron, and he heard the growl in his words. Jealousy wasn’t his style, so it surprised him.
“Sorry, man. I wasn’t interested, really.” Mateo’s smile flashed. “But you are.”
Couldn’t he hide it better than that? He stomped the snow off his boots on the step and grasped the doorknob. “Let’s keep it quiet. Ruby doesn’t know.”
“Sure. But when she rejects you, I’m next in line to beau her.” Mateo probably wasn’t serious, but his words were like an arrow to a target.
Would Ruby reject him if she knew about his feelings? She hadn’t done one thing to confirm any affection on her part. Shy smiles, gentle humor, yes. But did she feel drawn to him? A weight settled on his chest as he turned the knob. The warmth of the kitchen pulled him in, but his knees knocked as he shrugged out of his coat. What he felt for Ruby was powerfully rare. It was gentle as a December sun dawning, as everlasting as the stars in the sky and so true it came from the deepest places in his soul.
He still did not know if he had a chance with her. Would she want him for a beau? What would he do if she didn’t?
He shouldered into the kitchen doorway, searching for her in the ordered chaos. Cook sliced a roast chicken, steam billowed from a potato pot while workers scurried around putting food on platters and finding a colander for the boiling potatoes. Everything faded when he spied Ruby at the farthest worktable, transferring piping hot dinner rolls into a cloth-lined basket.
Gossamer tendrils of her platinum hair curled around her face as she bent over her work. He took in the long, lean curve of her arm, the straight line of her back and the way her every movement was graceful. She plopped the last roll into the basket and covered the baked goods to keep in the heat. How dear she looked in her dove-gray maid’s dress and white apron. She spun around, holding the baking sheet with a hot pad in one hand and their gazes collided.
The chaos vanished, the clatter silenced and time froze. In the stillness, he saw her unguarded, with her feelings exposed. A lasso of emotion lashed around him and roped his heart to hers. For one perfect moment, they were bound and tied together in an immeasurable way, and he could see something he hadn’t before. Her heart. Tenderness washed over him like grace.
“Hey, Romeo.” Mateo lightly punched him in the shoulder. “Didn’t you hear your pa? He’s calling you.”
He heard nothing but Ruby. When she shyly broke away, hope took root in his soul for what could be.
Chapter Five
Crocheting was harder than it looked, at least for her, but it gave her something to focus on aside from the fact that she had been forced to sit at one of the worktables crammed into the corner of the kitchen for her midday meal. When she’d gone to join the others at the table near the warm stove, all the chairs had suddenly become mysteriously saved for someone else.
No matter. She suspected her knowing Lorenzo might have something to do with it. Lorenzo. She hoped a sigh hadn’t escaped her as she unhooked her crochet needle from the loop of white thread and gave it a tug. Hard-won stitches disappeared before her eyes, unraveling as she counted backwards to the place where she’d made the error.
She’d decided to learn to crochet because she figured working with one crochet hook instead of two knitting needles had to be easier, but she had been sorely mistaken. She inserted the hook, checked the pattern Scarlet had copied down for her and looped the thread three times. Concentrating, the morning’s troubles slipped away.
“How is it going?” A man’s voice sounded close to her ear, and she startled. The needle tumbled from her grip, more stitches unraveled and the ball of thread rolled across the floor.
“Lorenzo.” She gaped up at him like a fish out of water. Dashing in a dark, blue flannel shirt and black trousers, he knelt to retrive the ball. “What are you doing here?”
“Scaring you, apparently.” He handed over the thread, kneeling before her like a knight of old, so gallant every head in the room was turned toward him. Apparently she wasn’t the only young woman on the staff who couldn’t keep her eyes off him. His dimples framed his perfect smile as she took the ball. Her fingers bumped his, and the shock trailed up her arm like a lightning strike.
“You were right.” She dropped the skein onto her lap. “Everything has gone fine. I’m trying to learn all I can.”
“Good to hear. Do you mind if I join you?” He unfolded his big frame, rising to his six-foot height. His hand rested on the back of the chair beside her. “I thought we could catch up.”
“But we talked a lot on the sleigh ride, and we aren’t exactly friends.”
“We can change that.” He pulled out the chair, turning it sideways so that when he settled on the cushion, he faced her.
Not a good thing. How could she think with his handsomeness distracting her? Worse, the women at the other table had fallen silent, openly staring.
“What are you making?” He lowered his voice, perhaps hoping to keep the conversation just between the two of them.
“It’s supposed to be a snowflake. For Christmas ornaments.” She held up the poor misshapen mess of stitches. So far, her greatest aptitude in the needle arts was crocheting, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit that to Lorenzo. His nearness tied her in knots, and she wondered what he really saw when he looked at her. Although she wore a uniform just like the other maids, she could still feel her patches. A world separated her and Lorenzo. So, why was he really talking to her?
“It does look like a snowflake.” He tilted his head to one side, studying the rows of stitching. “You were working on this when I came by the other night.”
“Yes, although I already finished that one. I’m making them for Christmas gifts and to add to my hope chest.” She blushed, aware of how that must sound. “Not that I’m hopeful or anything. It’s just something girls do.”
“I’m aware. My sister has one, too.” He relaxed comfortably against the chair back and planted his elbow on the table. A shaft of watery sunshine tumbled through the window, bronzing the copper highlights in his dark hair and worshiping the angled artistry of his face. “Bella and my mother do a lot of sewing for her hope chest. They have been at it for years now.”
“That sounds nice. It must be wonderful to have a ma.” She tried not to think of all the ways she missed the mother she’d never known. She fingered the half-made snowflake, trying to imagine what it would have been like to sew alongside a mother. “Yours is especially nice.”
“I’ll keep her. Who taught you to sew? Your aunt?”
“No, my Aunt June didn’t have the time to spare.” She bit her bottom lip, remembering those hard times when her father had been injured. “I’m mostly self-taught. After Pa was well and we moved out of our uncle’s house, I had to figure out how to mend everyone’s clothes. I wasn’t that good, but when we moved here to Angel Falls, my new friends took pity on me.”
“Not pity.” His dark eyes grew darker with interest. “I’m sure they couldn’t help adoring you on that first day you came to school.”
“Me? No.” Shyness gripped her, and she bowed her head, breaking away from the power of his gaze. She didn’t want him to see too much or to know how sorely her feelings had been hurt on her first day of school. “I was the new girl and didn’t know anyone. I think they felt sorry for me.”
“I know I did.”
Mortified, time flashed backward, and in memory, she was at her desk in the back row. Sunshine warmed the classroom and open windows let in the fresh smells of growing grass and the Montana wind. Shouts and shoes drummed as kids rushed toward the door for lunch break, but Narcissa Bell’s voice rose above every sound. “Does it look as if I want to be friends with you? What is your name?”
“R-Ruby.” She bowed her head, miserable beyond description. Her first day of school. She’d come with hopes of making friends.
“I’m going to call you Rags. Look at that dress.”
Girls had laughed as they pranced by in their tailored frocks in the latest fabrics and styles, in their shining new shoes and hair ribbons and bows. She’d felt her face blaze tomato red as her dreams of making friends shattered.
She hadn’t realized Lorenzo had witnessed the whole thing. What had he thought at the time? He was friends with Narcissa. They were in the same circle of friends. Had he gazed at her that first day with pity, too?
“I remember you wound up eating lunch with Meredith and her group.” No sign of pity marked his chiseled, lean face. “You were hard not to notice, being the new girl and the prettiest.”
“Not the prettiest, not by far.” How could he say such a thing? She squirmed in her chair, uncomfortable but grateful, because his generous compliment took the sting out of the memory of Narcissa’s taunting. “But I could be the most blessed. I got a new circle of friends that day. The best friends anyone could have.”
“That is a great blessing,” he agreed, so sincere, she found herself leaning in a little closer, drawn to him in a way she could not control.
“God was watching over me.” She would never forget how it had felt when Fiona, Meredith, Lila, Kate, Scarlet and Earlee had approached her with friendly smiles and asked her to eat with them. “They asked me to join their sewing circle. We try to meet every week.”
“And so they have helped you with your sewing.”
“And my kitting and crocheting.” She gestured to the delicate circle of stitching cradled in the folds of her apron. “They are like family to me.”
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Jillian Hart
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Yuletide Cinderella Grateful when she’s hired as the Davises’ maid, Ruby Ballard vows to help save her family’s farm. There’s just one problem: the boss’s handsome son, Lorenzo. He makes her forget family duty, forget her lowly place, even forget her friends who are in love with him! But his love is a gift that could never be hers—not even for Christmas.Lorenzo knows Ruby is the only woman he could marry. Yet the quiet beauty refuses his courtship. As the holidays approach, he will make both their wishes come true, when he claims her at last as his snowflake bride.