by Jillian Hart
“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.” Redheaded 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.
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��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 foot-stool 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?”