by Jillian Hart
Laughing, Linnea turned just in time to see a splash of purple-blue on the porch step.
That man! What had he been doing? Waiting for the one minute her back was turned?
She scanned the tall grasses, seed heavy and nodding drowsily in the warm morning breeze, but she couldn’t see him. He could be halfway home by now, hidden by the gentle roll and draw of the prairie. The day ahead of her suddenly seemed bleak because she hadn’t seen him.
There were the happy yellow faces of brown-eyed Susans in the bouquet today, mixed with the delicate bluebonnets. Beside the bouquet of flowers sat a small box tied with a pretty blue thread.
What was Seth up to? Heart pounding, Linnea eased down on the steps and cradled the box in her hand. She tugged at the bow, and the string fell away from the package. A folded note fluttered to her lap.
“Are you done with your chores, dotter?” Mama called cheerfully from inside the house. “We need to get an early start cleaning. What a hot day it promises to be.”
“I’m nearly finished.”
Linnea stared at the note in her hand, too afraid to open it.
It was only a piece of paper, she scolded, and unfolded the square of paper.
“Linnea,” she read in a man’s bold, disciplined handwriting. “I would like to come courting this afternoon. I’ll be by with my buggy at two o’clock and hope that you say yes.”
There was no signature, just, “Respectfully, your secret admirer.”
She folded the note into careful quarters and hid it in her skirt pocket. Her hands shook so hard she didn’t try to open his gift.
I would like to come courting. His written words echoed in her heart. He was a handsome, successful army major with a kind manner and a sense of humor she loved, and he was courting her. Her. Linnea Holmstrom.
She set the box she held on her lap and found the courage to lift the lid. Inside was a seamstress set, glistening with gold accents and hand-painted enamel.
* * *
Seth took one look at Linnea walking down the road in his direction and knew what she was doing. Meeting him without her mother noticing.
She looked beautiful—there was no other word for it. She wore a blue dress that showed off her trim curves perfectly. She flicked her gaze nervously up at him.
“Looking for your secret admirer, are you?” he asked.
“Sure, but then you came along. You’ve probably scared him off.”
“Probably. But since it’s hot and you’re without a ride, want to come up here with me?”
“I might as well.”
She smiled, demure and lovely, and placed her hand in his. He helped her onto the seat just like he planned to do for the rest of his life. Tenderness filled him, sweet and powerful.
“So did you ever catch sight of the fellow leaving you flowers?”
“I did.” She settled her skirts on the seat. “I’m not sure I like him. He’s homely.”
He released the break, trying not to laugh. “That can’t be. You don’t think he’s handsome?”
“Not in the slightest.” Humor glinted in her eyes. “But a single woman my age can’t be too choosy. Considering the shortage of eligible men in this county, I’ll have to look past his rather bad looks and make the best of it.”
“Maybe next week he’ll invite Sidney Johanson to go driving with him instead.”
Linnea couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled through her like joy. Was she really here with Seth and not imagining it? The wind on her face was real. She was out on a Sunday drive, like most courting couples.
He took her hand in his and held on. Warm, sure, possessive.
He didn’t let go.
The silence lengthened and he turned off the main road and drove along a meandering route that followed the river. She couldn’t think of a thing to say to this man she’d had no trouble talking to for so long. To this man whose hand remained on hers. Warm, sure, possessive.
The silence became unbearable. Think of something to say, Linnea.
“I haven’t been courting in a long time, and I’ve forgotten how miserable it is.” He swept off his hat and dropped it onto the floor well. “This jacket is as hot as hades. Want to go take a dip in the river?”
“Sounds like heaven. I wore petticoats and I’m dying.”
He guided General off the road where old cottonwoods cast welcome shade. The buggy rolled to a stop, and she couldn’t help admiring what a fine vehicle it was. Polished oak accents and fine upholstery. Real springs that had made the ride feel as if they were floating.
He climbed down and helped her to the ground, holding her a moment longer than necessary. He reached behind the seat for a folded blanket. Her pulse roared in her ears as he splayed his hand at the small of her back and walked beside her.
He treated her like a real lady, laying out the blanket in the shade. Giving her his hand to help her to the ground. Taking her foot to loosen and remove both of her shoes and stockings. She felt like a princess.
Shocks of dark hair tumbled over his forehead as he unlaced his shoes. Tenderness unlike any she’d known filled her, made her heart hurt and her throat ache.
When he’d rolled up the hems of his trousers, he stood and helped her to her feet.
Like a gentleman, he settled beside her on the bank’s edge and plunged his feet into the rushing water. “Now that’s a welcome feeling.”
She held her skirts so the lace Mama tatted for the hem wouldn’t be ruined and slipped her toes into the water. The cold current tugged at the soles of her feet and it tickled.
“Why did you buy a new buggy?”
“Figured I might need it. A dashing man worth his salt can’t be seen showing up with a beat-up work wagon to court the loveliest lady in three western territories.”
“You didn’t buy a buggy to take me for a ride.”
“No.” He cupped her face with his hand. “I bought the buggy because I’m not planning on leaving.”
“You’re staying?”
“I want to see how the romance between you and your secret admirer turns out.”
His thumb caressed the underside of her jaw in slow circles and sent ripples of tingling pleasure shooting down her spine. The rough, warm texture of his skin and the solid sense of him made her ache for more. Much more.
She leaned into the heat of his touch and closed her eyes. Drank in the sensation of being with him. The excitement of his touch. The pleasing way he smelled like soap, leather and man.
His lips claimed hers, tender the way a summer breeze caressed the land. The icy water, the squawk of waterbirds, the whispering chorus of the cottonwood leaves faded away until there was only his kiss. His gentle, all-consuming kiss.
His hand curled around her throat, holding her as he deepened the kiss. The sweep of his tongue and the brush of his lips made her breathless, weak. She curled her hands in his shirt and held on tight.
This felt more right than anything she’d ever known.
When he broke away, he held her against his chest. Simply held her. The rapid beat of his heart against her cheek matched hers, and she dreamed—just a little.
What if she could spend the rest of her life in the arms of this man?
* * *
Ginny hefted the bucket from the trough and hated how water and dust made mud at her feet. She’d tucked the hem of her skirts in her apron band to keep them from becoming soiled, but the bulkiness was hampering her as she took a step.
Mud squished between her toes. Water in the bucket sloshed and the metal rim slammed hard into her shinbone. Pain ricocheted up her leg and she silently cursed Jimmy McIntyre for running off on her. Cursed him again as her shoulder socket burned from the weight of the ten-gallon bucket. And again when her entire spine ached as if she’d been kicked.
That man who had looked more handsome than ever while time had only seared lines on her face and robbed her figure. That man who hadn’t had to pay for a thing in his life and left her to this. Working like a common country girl.
Memories from her childhood rushed through her, leaving her weak and nauseous. The smell of Pa’s whiskey, her stepmother’s broken crying. The endless work and gnawing hunger that haunted her even while she slept.
When she reached the garden, she dropped the bucket on the ground. Pain twisted in the small of her back, and her neck and arm ached. When she looked down, she saw the bucket was half-empty. She’d spilled that much water carrying it from the trough.
Tears burned in her eyes. She’d had enough of this, living poor and helpless. If only Jimmy were here, she’d make him pay! But he wasn’t and that only made the anger worse.
She missed her house in town and the pretty little porch with the wide benched swing. She missed her friends in town and being able to buy whatever she wanted. Frilly things, useless things, a new hat even when she didn’t need one. She missed her housekeeper and her weekly book club meetings.
“Are you sad, Mama?”
Jamie’s little-boy concern tore apart her thoughts. He sat in the dirt with two toy horses she’d spotted in a fine catalogue and had the McIntyres order for his last Christmas. Seeing the expensive toys at odds with his dirt-smeared face, his trousers handed down from his cousin because he’d outgrown his store-bought clothes raked her pride across hot coals.
She hated to think her son would grow up as she did, laboring in the fields all summer, wearing handed-down clothes to school in winter. Fury blinded her, but she managed to keep her voice calm as she answered him. “No, sweetie. I’m just a little tired is all.”
He seemed to accept her explanation and returned to his play. She poured the water remaining in her bucket into one of the garden rows. Water trickled halfway down the trench, so she turned around and went for more.
The jingle of a buggy harness echoed in the yard. Seth? She’d seen him drive his new vehicle down the old shanty road on the other side of the orchard, but he hadn’t said a word about where he was going. To town, dressed the way he was. Maybe to see her father-in-law.
She left the bucket in the trough. The milk cow watched it bob up and down in the water with concern, but she hardly cared. Maybe the McIntyres had changed their minds. Maybe they would put the land in her name and then she could sell it. Take the money and buy a house in town.
It wasn’t Seth’s stallion hauling the big comfortable buggy up the driveway. It was Sidney’s prized gray Arabian. Sidney waved from the shaded seat, and Ginny waved back. Of all her friends in town, Sidney had stood by her when Jimmy abandoned her just after the new year. Quickly she untied her apron and let her skirts fall to cover her bare feet.
“You’ve caught me watering the garden,” she explained, smoothing her skirt.
“I didn’t mean to drop by unannounced, but I have some news.” Sidney drew her horse to a stop and climbed down from the buggy, her fashionable skirts sweeping gracefully with her movements.
Envy stabbed through Ginny. She wore a plain gingham dress, and she felt like the country girl she’d lived her entire adult life trying to cover up. “Let me dash inside and change. I couldn’t wear my good clothes to work in the garden.”
“You look fine, Ginny, don’t worry yourself about that. I can’t stay anyway, I’m expected back at my in-laws for supper. Just came to tell you that my brother was over to see Mr. Hansson about the upcoming haying and saw your brother’s new buggy.”
“Yes, I know about that. He bought it in town just yesterday. Out of the blue. Spending money when he could have borrowed mine.”
“That isn’t why I came.” Sidney glanced over her shoulder. “I thought you should know. I don’t mean to spread gossip, but you’ve been a good friend to me since my husband’s death and I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“What do you mean?” Panic fluttered behind her breastbone. “What is Seth doing?”
“He was seen driving down along Rose Creek with Linnea Holmstrom.”
The sick feeling returned to Ginny’s stomach. “Maybe he’d come across her on the road and was giving her a ride. He’s done it before.”
“Dressed in his Sunday best? I don’t think so.” Sidney wagged her head. “Mark said it looked like Seth had come courting. You know what that means.”
Ginny swayed, and she grabbed the top rung of the split rail fence. “He couldn’t be courting her. A decent man like my stepbrother wouldn’t marry a woman like Linnea.”
“Whatever his intentions are, it looked as if he was serious about her. Out on a Sunday drive. You know that’s what courting couples do around here.”
He’d marry Linnea and Linnea would turn him against her. And she needed him. Ginny knew it with absolute certainty. Linnea was going to find herself a husband after all, and Seth was vulnerable. He’d been too long without a wife in his bed. Linnea was giving out what Seth needed. It was that simple.
“He doesn’t know the kind of woman she is, that’s all.” Sidney offered what comfort she could. “When he finds out, he’ll no longer want to court her, let alone marry her.”
“He swore to leave me if I said one word against her.”
“Then this is worse than it looks. He’s serious about her.”
Ginny stumbled into the shade. “I can’t risk angering him further. He’s moved into the old claim shanty as it is. What can I do?”
“I don’t know, my friend, but I wanted to warn you. I know how precarious things are with your husband gone. If you need to, there is room with me. The cottage out back is yours for the asking.”
Ginny flushed with embarrassment and anger. What kind of friend was Sidney? Offering her the servants’ quarters? “I’ll be fine. Linnea might have destroyed my marriage—”
“It’s not as if he ran off with her, as Ellie Jance pointed out. We don’t know they were even together and we should not assume—”
“He got her pregnant long ago, remember? Right before he proposed to me. For all I know she was trying to steal him away from me.” That was proof enough to blame Linnea forever.
“I must be going.” Sidney climbed back into her fancy buggy, lifted the reins and drove off, waving goodbye.
Ginny couldn’t help noticing Sidney’s expensive French-made gloves. She looked down at her fingernails stained with dirt and her skin browned by the sun.
Linnea Holmstrom would not sink her claws into Seth. She’d make damn sure of that.
* * *
The sun was low in the sky. Looked like the first Sunday drive she’d ever taken with a man had come to an end. Seth headed General down the road toward her house.
“Let me off at the bend in the road. That way Mama won’t suspect I was with you.”
“We can’t let her think you’d be alone with an ugly bald-headed man.” He winked.
“I teased you something awful. I’m sorry.”
“I teased you back so we’re even.” He climbed down and offered her his hand.
He swept her to the ground, and she wished there was a way to push the sun back up into the sky and steal more time with him.
“Thank you for today.”
“I want to ask you to drive with me next week, but I’ll be busy haying. The neighbors have invited me to join them. Hansson has a cutting machine, and if we go from ranch to ranch, the work is done faster than if I hand-cut the hay alone.”
“I’m glad they’ve included you. Papa used to do that and, oh, I remember having to cook for the hayers. Mama and I worked from dawn until midnight for two days in the sweltering kitchen. Is Ginny going to be able to cook for the men?”
“Ginny and I haven’t discussed that yet.”
“I wouldn’t mind helping, although Ginny and I are far from friends.”
“I noticed something like that.”
She smiled, relaxing a little at his touch, and he ran his hand down the outside of her arm. She felt like paradise, all fine bone and a woman’s softness, even through the fabric of her sleeve.
“Figured you probably hand-cut the hay on your farm, so I included that acreage in with m
ine. If that’s all right with you.”
“What? And not spend the next two weeks swinging a sickle in the hot sun? I’d gladly feed the men in exchange.”
“It’s a deal then.” This felt right, starting to take care of her. Acting on the tenderness he felt for her. “There’s one more thing before I let you go.”
Her mouth softened. So she wanted his kiss, did she?
“A bouquet of flowers.” He snapped off a handful of bluebonnets swaying in the grasses alongside the road. “Got to keep that secret admirer of yours jealous.”
“I figured out who he is.”
“Is that so?” Trouble glimmered in her eyes and he couldn’t resist playing along. “Do you think he’s the most charming bachelor in the county?”
“Anders Neilson? Well, he is blond and he is fairly good-looking. But you have a new buggy, so that decided it for me.”
“That makes me a damn lucky man.” He handed her the flowers. She was sunlight and summer and everything good in the world and he wanted to take her into his arms and kiss her again. To taste her sweetness and her passion.
In time, he told himself, he’d be able to make her his. And to discover the soft curves she kept hidden beneath that pretty blue dress.
“I hope you like bluebonnets.”
“I do.” She traced a fingertip over the delicate blossoms. “I love the way they grow so thick the prairie turns purple-blue with them.”
“They match the color of your eyes. That makes them my favorite flower.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek, pure gentleman, instead of tugging at those buttons on her bodice as he wanted to. “I’m glad I came along before Anders did. It’s going to be a long two weeks until I can do it again.”
He pressed a kiss to her cheek and breathed in her soft scent.
The afternoon sun was low in the sky, the grasses rippling and whispering with the lazy wind, and contentment filled him. He didn’t want this to end, but he was a practical man, and so he let her go.
When she set out across the field, he sat in the buggy while she waded through the tall grass and vibrant bluebonnets.
He watched until she was a tiny spot of gold and blue on the distant rise, and then she was gone. The brightness leached from the sun, the beauty drained from the day, and he was alone.