Amish Winter Wonderland: Book Two
Page 11
Violet calico fluttering in the slight breeze caught the corner of Logan’s eye. He tried to keep his focus on the task before him, but he couldn’t help but feel drawn to the woman wearing it. Without even seeing her face, he sensed a familiarity that caused him to slow the horse to a near stand-still just long enough to bask in the unusual pull he felt coming from her. He kept his face forward as long as he could stand it, and then gazed upon her.
He tipped his hat to avoid her thinking he was gawking at her, but he couldn’t help but stare. The breeze played with blond curls that framed her face, the rest of her hair lay at the base of her neck in a wind-blown chignon. As her lashes lifted in his direction, green eyes stared back at him, and her parasol didn’t hide the glint of sunlight that sparkled in them. She smiled as he passed her, causing his heart to skip a beat. For a moment, he let his guard down long enough to feel. But as he looked down the road to his destination, his heart hardened again with dreaded anticipation of what he was about to encounter at the Marshall’s office.
****
Daisy Mae Pinkerton felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end as she watched the handsome stranger ride through town. Though she was sure she had never seen him before, he boasted a familiarity that she just couldn’t shake. Perched atop a large steed, he carried a rugged sort of brashness that gave him just enough edge to convince everyone but her.
As he approached, she averted her eyes until the last minute. When she set her gaze upon him, her heart fluttered in perfect rhythm with the folds of her dress that moved with the breeze. Her untamed hair danced along her face at just the right time to mask the color that had claimed her cheeks.
She saw vulnerability in his eyes, but his seat suggested otherwise. He rode with confidence, though his eyes revealed a hint of insecurity. His full lips parted for a moment from the clenched mien that preserved the scowl assailing his handsome face. When he smiled back at her, the blue in his eyes softened.
Ducking into the mercantile, Daisy pulled a folded fan from the drawstring reticule that hung from her wrist so she could cool her heated cheeks. “It’s warm out there today.” She tried to disguise her embarrassment to Clarisse Prescott and her mother as they approached her.
“Good afternoon, Daisy,” Mrs. Prescott said.
She nodded, hoping to avoid a lengthy conversation with the women that tended to gossip a bit too much.
Mrs. Prescott put a hand to Daisy’s arm to halt her furious fanning. “Are you alright, dear?”
“I’m just a little warm from the walk over from the school house.”
She couldn’t tell the woman she was swooning over a rugged man that just rode down the street in front of her. She had learned a long time ago to keep a tight lid on anything of a private matter with Mrs. Prescott after she talked behind Maddie Hayes’ back when her husband ran off and left her with two children. Instead of being the charitable woman she professed in church, she exploited her predicament.
Daisy, however, had been the one to lead the women’s group in taking up a fund for the poor Mrs. Hayes to pay her passage back east to live with her parents. Daisy’s Ma was no longer by her side, but her teachings remained etched in her brain like the Ten Commandments carved into the stone tablets. Her Ma had taught her to keep a tight rein on her mouth, and to keep people like Mrs. Prescott at an arm’s length. She remained respectable toward the woman, but not overly friendly as to encourage gossip. As the school teacher, Daisy couldn’t afford to soil her reputation by gossiping—or swooning over men—especially since her teaching contract didn’t permit her to marry.
Clarisse was a different story altogether. She and Daisy had been friends since the day she and Pa rode into town when she accepted the two-year teaching contract and her Pa accepted his new flock at St. Paul’s church.
Clarisse was nothing like her meddling mother who often embarrassed her. Whenever they conversed, they made certain that her mother was not within earshot of their conversation, lest she spread it around town. In Daisy’s opinion, Mrs. Prescott was usually a harmless busy-body, but she just didn’t seem to understand that sometimes her gossiping hurt others.
Daisy slighted her eyes and winked at Clarisse, letting her know she had a secret to tell her. The young woman drifted away from her mother’s side long enough to whisper to her friend.
“If you’re going to tell me about that beautiful man that just sauntered down the road, I already saw him through the window of the mercantile. I had to pretend I was looking at the bolts of fabric so Mama wouldn’t catch me slighting my eyes toward the man.”
Daisy raised her eyebrows at her friend’s boldness.
Clarisse shrugged. “Just because I’m engaged to be married doesn’t mean I’ve gone blind.”
Suppressing a smile, Daisy huddled close to her friend. “He was beautiful, wasn’t he? The man looked right into my very soul, Clarisse.”
“No wonder you couldn’t breathe when you walked in here.”
Daisy took a deep breath. “The look in his blue eyes nearly took my breath away. I know it’s not proper, but I have to go back outside to see where he goes. I have to know who he is.”
Clarisse called to her mother across the room. “I’m going to take Daisy out to get some fresh air.”
Her mother nodded and the two women stepped out onto the boardwalk. Across the street, they could see the man dismount his horse in front of the Crystal Palace. He walked up the stairway to the second floor, and removed his hat revealing thick, black hair just before entering the Marshall’s office.
Daisy clutched Clarisse’s arm. “Do you think he’s here to join the posse that intends to put a stop to all the robberies? Surely he’s not an outlaw, or he wouldn’t have walked into the Marshall’s office willingly.”
Clarisse winked at her. “Why, Miss Daisy, are you gossiping?”
The two ladies giggled. “You sound exactly like your mother when you talk like that.”
“It irritates me when she accuses others of doing the very thing at which she is so talented.”
The two of them sat on the bench outside of the general store watching passersby, trying to disguise the slighting of their eyes in the direction of the Marshall’s office. As the handsome stranger exited the office with Sheriff Daniels, he looked across the street, and Daisy could have sworn he looked right at her. Daisy felt like she might faint dead away, but Clarisse tucked her arm in hers, as they watched with mouths slightly agape while the two men mounted and rode out of town leaving a cloud of dust in their wake.
You can purchase a copy of A Sheriff’s Legacy from the same online store you purchased this book.
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NORWEGIAN SUGAR COOKIES
(Cookie and frosting recipes were handed down to me from my grandmother)
INGREDIENTS
1 cup real butter, softened
1 ½ cups sugar
½ cup powdered sugar
2 eggs
½ tsp. vanilla
½ tsp. almond extract
½ tsp. ground nutmeg
½ tsp. salt
1 tbsp. baking powder
1 tsp. cream of tartar
¼ cup heavy cream
5 cups sifted flour
Mix together butter, sugar and eggs. Add vanilla, almond extract and cream. In a separate bowl, mix dry ingredients. Fold in flour mixture slowly until well blended. Flatten dough between two pieces of parchment paper and place in refrigerator for two hours. Roll our chilled dough to desired thickness and cut shapes with cookie cutters. Bake at 350 degrees for 6-10 minutes, or until golden around the edges, depending on the thickness. Cool, then, frost and decorate.
FROSTING
¼ cup butter
½ tsp. vanilla
2-3 tbsp. cardamom (to taste)
¼ cup heavy cream
4 cups powdered sugar
ian Bayarr, Amish Winter Wonderland: Book Two