Rocky Mountain Proposal

by Pamela Nissen

  She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as though chilled. “She’s harmless. At least I think so, anyway.”

  “What do you mean, at least you think so?” Shrugging out of his coat, he draped it over her shoulders. And just like that, he envisioned his arms wrapped around her, holding her tight, keeping her warm.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He no sooner shoved the image aside than the alluring scent of roses wafted to his senses. “Has Jane done something that would make you question her?” he ground out, pulling the front of his coat together. He held it closed, peering deep into her eyes where he was almost sure that unshed tears shimmered.

  She nestled her cheek against his butter-soft leather collar, hesitating as she swept her glistening gaze across the moonlit field. “No,” she finally said, shuddering as she moved her focus to him. “Jane’s grieving the loss of her only brother. I’m sure it can’t be easy for her to have me taking over the place.”

  “Yeah, I have no doubt that it’s been hard for her—and you.” When her chin quivered faintly, he moved a little closer to offer comfort but not knowing how.

  He wanted to bring her warmth. He wanted to speak words of hope and encouragement to lift her spirits. And he wanted to make sure that she was happy and safe and comforted. When she peered up at him, her gaze so honest and confused and hurt, it was all he could do not to draw her into his arms. He shoved his hands into his pockets, knowing that if he held her again, he might never be able to quell the growing desire in his heart for Hope.

  For once, Hope disregarded her mother’s strict proprietary guidelines as to comportment and hugged her arms to her chest beneath Aaron’s warm coat, desperately clinging to the few strands of dignity she had left. She’d been on the verge of tears all day. First, she’d been profoundly moved by Aaron’s grief this morning and had recognized that any feelings growing inside her heart for him would never blossom. He was far too in love with Ellie and her memory. And it was rightly so, which was why Hope had felt compelled to clear the tangle of weeds and dead grass from the graveside, leaving two posies of spring blossoms as a token of her heartfelt sympathy.

  And then this evening at play rehearsal, Aaron had been noticeably edgy, as though he was uncomfortable in his own skin. But tonight, when she’d assumed that he’d fed Jane the stallion story, Hope had ricocheted between tears and red-hot anger.

  “I don’t know why Paul didn’t mention anything to you or anyone else about my arrival. I must believe that he was eager for our marriage. He’d said so many times in his letters.” She quietly sniffed, struggling to swallow the thick emotion lodged in her throat.

  “I’m sure he was looking forward to it. And he never made a flippant decision. Paul was a good and honest man.”

  “He was, wasn’t he?” she sputtered as she peered at him, frantic to believe that with all of her being. Because ever since she’d discovered that Paul had kept her presence in his life a secret, she’d been plagued with shame and doubt. What if Paul wasn’t really the man he’d presented himself to be? Just like Jonas?

  “Are you all right?” Aaron settled his hands on her arms. The way his gaze seeped deep into her soul was a threat to her determination to stay strong. “I know this hasn’t been easy on you. None of it has.”

  It had been absolutely terrible—and completely wonderful at the same time.

  But she couldn’t let him know just how often she questioned herself as to whether she could handle the gift Paul had deeded her. The end of summer was fast approaching, and she’d need to make a decision about the farm. She had to wonder if Paul questioned whether she would be able to handle things. Maybe that was why he’d put that stipulation in the deed.

  “It hasn’t been that bad. Although, were I deathly afraid of animals like my mother, matters could be far worse,” she said on an weak chuckle.

  He shook his head. “There’s more to you than meets the eye, Hope. Maybe someday I’ll find out what it is that drives you.”

  She couldn’t let him know how she’d been hurt by Paul and also by Jonas or how often she’d found herself thinking of Aaron, longing for a good, trustworthy, loyal man like him to care for. But she refused to play on his sympathies or garner his comfort or kindness based on his fiercely noble sense of obligation or pity.

  She took a step away from him yet pulled his coat in a warm embrace around her, the manly rugged scent permeating the fibers, wholly Aaron. “I should probably get home. Theodore will wonder where I am.”

  “We wouldn’t want to worry Theodore, now, would we?” He gave her a pulse-pounding grin, then nodded toward the wagon. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride the rest of the way.”

  When she approached the wagon and he eased his large hands around her middle to lift her to the seat, a fluttering stirred the base of her stomach. And when he took his place beside her, she had to resist the urge to nestle closer to his warmth, to his care, to the protective power of his strong arms.

  Even though he possessed a deep, unending love for his late wife, Hope couldn’t seem to stop caring for Aaron.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “So, tell me Aaron, how’s Hope doing?” Zach folded his arms at his chest and gave Aaron a goading wink.

  Wariness had crawled up Aaron’s spine from the moment Ben and Zach had joined Joseph and him at the wood shop this afternoon. He could ward off Joseph’s comments here and there about Hope, and he could fend off Ben’s overt remarks, too, but the three of them together…

  He braced himself. “What do you mean how’s Hope doing?” Aaron pinned his focus to the long pine board he was measuring on the workbench. “She’s getting along just fine, as far as I know.”

  “Well, I would hope that you’d know.” Zach leaned against the workbench, hooking one foot over the other. “You’re out there for several hours every day.”

  He eyed Zach. “I don’t always see her when I’m there, you know?”

  “Why? Are you avoiding her?” Zach prodded.

  Ben approached and dipped his head toward Aaron’s ear. “Just so you know, you’ve measured that five times already.”

  Aaron fisted his hands. “That’s because you three are distracting me.” He gave his oldest brother an impatient scowl. “You know I don’t work as well when I’m distracted.”

  “Excuse me, but you never answered the question.” Zach braced his hands on the workbench and jumped up to sit down right next to where Aaron was working. “Are you avoiding her?”

  “No. I’m just busy while I’m there, trying to make sure all of the chores get done.”

  “Well, you’re certainly there enough to know,” Joseph added with a half chuckle.

  Making a dark mark where he needed to cut the wood, he stuffed the stubby piece of lead into his work apron. “Look, Joseph, I told you from the start that if it’s too much for me to be gone from here—”

  “I wasn’t implying that.” Joseph set his sandpaper on the sideboard he’d been sanding in the work area and approached the workbench, his steps in this familiar room as sure as if he could see. “Listen, you more than covered for me last summer after my accident. We’ve had a good system going, and it’s been working just fine. You don’t need to worry.”

  “I know you’ve said that numerous times, but I have to wonder if you’ve been feeling the pinch and you’re just too prideful to say so.”

  “I’ll admit that every once in a while I’d rather keep my mouth shut than to admit I need help.” He raked a hand through his hair. “But this isn’t one of those times.”

  Aaron studied him for a moment. “I could always work out something else to pick up the slack either here or on the farm.”

  “Like what?” Ben inquired, giving Aaron one of his big brother looks.

  “I don’t know. I suppose I’d finally have to give my consent to one of those green-around-the-edges farmhands Hope would like to hire.” Staring at the pine board in front of him, he drew his hands into fists. “But not one of t
hem is acceptable.”

  “Not one?” Joseph questioned.

  “If you could see the hungry look in their eyes when they see her, you’d know exactly what I mean.” Aaron felt his blood churning and his hackles rise just thinking about it.

  “So, who would you hire, then?” Joseph ran a hand over the workbench to make sure nothing was in his way then jumped up to sit next to Zach.

  “I’m telling you, this is a classic damsel-in-distress scenario,” Zach noted, elbowing Joseph in the ribs. “Any man would spring at the chance to clad himself in a suit of armor and ride in on a white horse to help the lovely Hope.”

  “Not just any man will do,” Aaron ground out, feeling trapped by his own words. He would’ve wiped the grins from their faces had he been a lesser man. Instead he pulled in a steadying breath. “Zach, your head is in the clouds or the books or something.” He unfurled his fists. “You need to get yourself a wife so that you can lavish all of that romantic whatnot on her.”

  Joseph knocked the Stetson off Zach’s head and ruffled his hair. “I agree.”

  “Well, I’ll just go to the mercantile today on my way home, then, and pick one up.” Shoving Joseph’s hand away, Zach leaned back for his hat and jammed it back on his head. “How does that sound, boys?”

  “I’m sure Mrs. Duncan would be more than happy to help you out.” Aaron grinned, remembering how many times the woman had tried to sell him on some young woman or another. “In fact, I think her niece is still here from Longmont.”

  “She’s a looker, that one. Nice teeth. Hearty as an ox,” Joseph teased, having been the recipient of Mrs. Duncan’s good-hearted attempts more than a handful of times.

  Zach catapulted off the bench, the heels of his boots hammering the hardwood floor. “Gentlemen, as you and I well know, a good woman is hard to find.” He braced a hand on Aaron’s shoulder. “That’s why I think that Aaron, here, needs to stop long enough to look at what is right under his nose.”

  He’d looked, all right. And it had been all he could do to stop his thoughts from running straight to—

  “Hope,” Ben said. “She’s a good woman.”

  Aaron stared at the pine board, scrambling to keep hold of the list of reasons why he couldn’t love again. “But I love Ellie.”

  “And Ellie’s gone.” When Joseph reached out and found Aaron’s arm, Aaron instantly recalled how much Joseph’s presence and comforting touch had meant that morning when they’d discovered Ellie’s body lying on Jeremiah’s grave. “And your life has to move on.”

  “You were a great husband to Ellie.” Ben’s voice was low.

  “The best,” Zach added.

  “But at some point you have to look to the future.” Ben caught Aaron’s gaze and held it firm.

  Swallowing hard, he reminded himself that his brothers had only his best in mind. Even now, they probably thought that they’d put his well-being first. But their hearts were fully intact, not half torn by death’s grip. “When I stood at the altar, I made a vow to love her and keep her—”

  “Until death do you part,” Ben uttered, his eyebrows raised. “I’m not saying that this should be easy for you. I would never say that. But I do think that you need to give this some thought, for yourself and for Ellie.”

  “And for Hope.” Joseph gave his shoulder a brief squeeze. “Do you honestly think that Ellie would’ve wanted you grieving and alone for the rest of your life?”

  “I don’t know.” Or did he? “We talked about this once, and we both agreed that if anything happened to the other, we’d move on. Marry.”

  “See?” Zach encouraged. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

  “But we said that believing that nothing bad would happen,” Aaron argued.

  “What about you?” Zach probed, folding the fingers on one hand down and emitting loud popping sounds. “If you’d been the one to go, would you have wanted Ellie to be alone for the rest of her days?”

  Grasping the edge of the workbench, Aaron resisted the urge to leave the building. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t speak. He could barely even force the next breath from his lungs as the seriousness of his brothers’ words hung over him, like some force to be reckoned with.

  “Just think about it,” Ben half pleaded. “Please.”

  “Hope is an amazing woman, with more determination and strength than most women I’ve met.” Zach folded his muscular arms at his chest.

  “Whether you’ve accepted it or not, there’s something between the two of you.” Joseph set his unseeing gaze directly on Aaron. “The sparking tension is so real I can almost see it.”

  “Callie and I have noticed it, too,” Ben agreed.

  “What is up with you guys?” Prying himself from his brothers’ intense attention, he stalked over to where Joseph kept a stash of jerky for his Newfoundland dog, Boone. “Here I am, just working away, happy as you please—” he unscrewed the jar and popped a chunk into his mouth. “And then the three of you corner me like a pack of hungry wolves.”

  The air hung thick with the charged remnants of a rainstorm and even thicker with an eerie silence as Aaron tethered his horse near the barn. Most mornings Hope would poke her head out from the doorway to greet him in that hopelessly optimistic way of hers, but this morning she was nowhere in sight.

  For four weeks she’d been doing chores and getting to know her way around the farm, but still he worried—a lot. And since he couldn’t be there all day, every day, he found himself praying for her protection, that God would keep her safe. He’d probably gone overboard in his concern and worry, but having lost Ellie because he’d nodded off long enough that she’d made her way out to Jeremiah’s grave, he couldn’t seem to quell the incessant need to make sure that he had this situation well under control. Ben tried to comfort him with the fact that Ellie’s profuse bleeding would have happened, regardless, but still Aaron felt responsible.

  His heart stomped inside his chest as he peered in the corral, bracing himself for a horrific sight. The idea that Hope might’ve been trampled by the cattle she’d grown to love whipped through his mind with brutal force as he scanned the area where the herd huddled together as though a storm was brewing over the horizon. Seeing no sign of Hope there, he released the breath he’d been holding. He strode toward the barn entrance, trying to convince himself that Hope was just fine, yet uneasiness nipped at his heels.

  “Hope,” he called, wondering if maybe she hadn’t heard him ride into the yard.

  When a muffled groan from beyond the barn filtered to his hearing, chills snaked down his spine. He took off in that direction, the hair at the back of his neck standing on end as he rounded the barn. His stomach clenched with dread as he caught sight of Hope huddled against the henhouse, clothed in just her nightgown and a robe, her long hair a tousle of wayward strands, her bare toes peeking out from beneath her gown, a despondent expression blanketing her face as she hugged a chicken to her chest.

  “Darlin’, what happened?” Slowing to a stop, he hunkered down in front of her, holding her face in his hands. His throat knotted tight at the gruesome sight of chicken feathers and blood strewn from inside the henhouse to the outdoors.

  When he spotted several large doglike, paw prints indented in the moist ground, he had his answer. Wolves. They’d feasted on Hope’s beloved birds and left only one survivor.

  “Are you all right?” he gently prodded, concerned with the cool, clammy feel of her face. Shrugging out of his coat, he wrapped it around her shoulders.

  She hugged the quaking chestnut-colored hen to her chest. She inched her glassy-eyed, shock-filled gaze to his. “They were killed,” she whispered, her voice raspy with emotion. “Killed, Aaron. It must have been just horrible for them.”

  “Aw…Hope. I’m so sorry. I know how attached you’ve become to them.” Bracing a hand on her shoulder, he smoothed errant strands of hair from her face as he recalled the sweet and kindhearted way he’d seen her tend her little flock. “How long have you been
out here like this?”

  “I—I don’t know. I heard them calling for me early—” her red-rimmed eyes filled with tears and pain “—and I heard some yelping. I just didn’t get out here fast enough.”

  With the pad of his thumb, he brushed a glistening tear from her cold tear-dampened cheek. “Don’t blame yourself, honey.”

  “But they’re all dead.” She slid a horrified gaze over what was left of her chickens. She had wrapped a side of her thick cream-colored robe around the lone survivor. “Everyone, except sweet little da Vinci.” The way Hope dragged in a fractured breath just then, and the way her eyes spilled over with pooled tears as she gave a muffled sob, nearly broke Aaron’s heart. “Do you know that they got my handsome rooster, Michelangelo, too?”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Aaron caught a glimpse of what was left of the big chestnut-colored rooster, his stomach clenching with the distinct scent of slaughtered chickens. Compassion welled within his heart for Hope as he glanced at the coop, searching for signs of where they’d forced an entry. He’d never seen a woman become so fond of animals—let alone farm animals.

  “I was afraid of that when I saw you holding just this one.” He stroked the hen’s head poking out from the robe then turned and eased down next to Hope. “I’m really sorry this happened. I know how much you enjoyed all of them.” Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her to his side, deeply moved by the way her whole body trembled with raw emotion. “Don’t cry, darlin’,” he soothed, desperate to ease her pain. “It’s going to be all right.”

  “I sh-should’ve gotten out here s-sooner to protect them.” She drew the chicken closer as a mooing sound came from the corral on the other side of the barn. “They count on me to be their g-guardian and their protector.”

  She was something…Hope. Here she was, the model of elegance and propriety, her dark hair tousled in a tempting mess, and her feminine curves hurriedly clad in a nightgown and robe, half of which she’d pulled up to wrap around a chicken. His heart swelled with pride—pride and respect, and something else he wasn’t sure he wanted to look at closely enough to identify.