by Renee Blare
“Would you believe that no-account grabbed Miss Sullivan around the waist, twirled her around, and kissed her? Right on the lips.”
Naomi raised her chin. The other passengers didn’t need to know the remorse that now lived under her skin. She’d dreamed of her first kiss since girlhood, only to have that dream crushed by a loathsome drifter.
Let the man laugh. Once she found her grandmother, she’d be on her way. There was little chance she’d ever see Ethan Garrett again.
But she didn’t hear laughter.
She slowed her steps, intent on catching Ethan Garrett’s reaction. “I’m sorry to hear Miss Sullivan was accosted in such a way. Was she hurt?”
“No, no,” Mrs. Jacobson answered. “The man put her down, laughed, and went into the livery. I’m sure my husband would have gone after him, but Benjamin was on the opposite side of the coach and didn’t see what happened.”
“If you ask me,” Mrs. Leeland continued, “Miss Sullivan isn’t entirely blameless. She must have done something to encourage that cowboy.”
Naomi closed her eyes. She’d never spoken a word to the man. She’d rarely made eye contact. But wasn’t that the way of the world? The woman was always to blame.
As Naomi stepped onto the boardwalk, she turned her head in order to catch of glimpse of Ethan Garrett. He put on his hat and climbed to the top of the coach. A moment later, his saddle sailed over the edge, sending up plumes of dust as it hit the road.
He hadn’t laughed at her. Although he was far from being a gentleman, at least he had acted with consideration.
“Welcome to Loma Verde station.” The greeting came from a dark-haired woman who stood in the doorway of a wooden-frame building.
“Thank you. I’m hoping to meet Mrs. Ruth Fairchild here. Do you know her?”
“Of course,” the woman answered. “Miss Ruth told us her granddaughter was due today. Are you Naomi?”
Naomi’s shoulders relaxed in response to the woman’s amiability. “Yes. Is my grandmother here?”
“Not yet, but don’t worry. The stage arrived earlier than usual today.” The woman took Naomi’s arm and guided her into a stone building. Long trestle tables and benches were quickly being filled by her fellow passengers. Floor-to-ceiling shutters had been opened to allow fresh air to pass through. “Have a seat, Miss Naomi, and I’ll bring you a plate of food.”
Disappointment clouded Naomi’s heart, but she smiled her thanks and took a seat where she could watch for her grandmother. Two years had passed since she’d felt her grandmother’s warm embrace. Two lonely years of grieving her mother and learning to be the lady of the house.
A young girl with dark braids set a bowl of soup in front of Naomi. “Thank you. What’s your name?”
White teeth peeked from behind the girl’s timid smile, but she did not answer. Instead, she turned her attention to the sound of boot steps at the entrance. “Ethan!” the little girl shouted. “Ethan!”
Naomi watched with amusement as the child ran toward the doorway, her thin arms raised in anticipation.
“There’s my little dove,” Ethan Garrett answered with a wide smile. He swung the girl up and rested her against his chest. “Did you save some food for me?”
The child’s braids bobbed as she nodded her head vigorously.
“Paloma! Let Mr. Ethan eat.” The same woman who had welcomed Naomi scolded the little girl.
Had Naomi thought Ethan Garrett an ordinary man? The way he greeted the child and the sparkle in his eyes gave her cause to reconsider.
“Oh, Marta, leave her alone,” he said. “It’s nice to have someone who’s happy to see me.”
The woman said something to the little girl in Spanish and the child climbed down from his arms. “I wasn’t expecting you today,” Marta said.
Ethan Garrett hung his hat from a peg near the door. “I had a bit of trouble with a horse. Think Vicente could lend me one until tomorrow?”
“I’ll ask him,” she replied. Then she smiled at the little girl who carried a plate of food toward him.
He sat on the bench a few feet from Naomi. “Thank you, Paloma. I’m so hungry my stomach sounds like an unhappy donkey.”
Naomi smiled as the girl laughed. The cowboy certainly had captured one feminine heart. He folded his hands on the table and bowed his head. Realizing she hadn’t yet said grace, Naomi laid her spoon on the table and did the same. When she lifted her head, her grandmother’s kind face smiled down at her.
Naomi sprang from her seat to embrace her grandmother. “Finally,” she whispered into her grandmother’s white hair. “It’s been too long.” She held on tightly and let tears of joy run down her face.
“I almost didn’t recognize you,” Ruth said, stepping back from the embrace. “You’ve grown so much. How old are you now?”
“Twenty-two last month. Papa says I look like Mama.”
Ruth held both of Naomi’s hands. “Your hair’s the same,” Ruth replied, “and your eyes. But you’re taller. And, I daresay, prettier.”
Naomi reached into a pocket for her handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. “I’m so glad to be here.”
Ruth’s eyes shone. “No more than I am to have your company.”
Marta reappeared at their side. “Will you have something to eat, Miss Ruth?”
“Oh, Marta,” Ruth answered. “Have you met my granddaughter?”
“Yes, and her soup is getting cold. Would you like to join her?”
Ruth looked around the small room as though seeing it for the first time. “Why, Ethan. What are you doing here?”
Ethan Garrett stood. “Enjoying Marta’s fine cooking. I found myself unexpectedly in town and decided to take advantage of it.”
“This is the granddaughter I told you about, come all the way from San Antonio to visit.”
Ethan glanced at Naomi. “Glad she made it safely.”
Ruth looked from Ethan to Naomi to Marta, as though trying to decide her next move. Marta spoke up. “Sit down, Miss Ruth, and I’ll bring you some coffee.”
“Oh, all right. Thank you.” Ruth settled herself next to Naomi and Ethan returned to his seat.
“Now then,” Ruth said. “Tell me what’s going on with your father.”
Naomi shook her head slowly. “I don’t understand him, Grandmother. I thought we’d reached a certain harmony, Papa and I, after Mama’s death. Next thing I knew, he was courting the Widow Callahan.”
“How old is she?”
“I don’t know for sure, but Frances is not much older than I. Papa had only been courting her a short while when he announced plans to marry. Before I had time to get used to the idea, the Widow Callahan and her four children had taken residence in our house.”
Ruth’s mouth opened in surprise. “Four? How old are they?”
“The boys are twelve-year-old twins. There’s one girl of six and a baby who just marked her first birthday.”
“A baby?” Ruth rested her cheek in her hand and sighed loudly. “If I live to be a hundred years old, I’ll never understand what your father was thinking. Although I have a good idea what he was thinking with.”
Naomi didn’t understand her grandmother’s reference but decided not to press for clarification.
“Your father seldom corresponded,” Ruth continued, “but when you sent word of his marriage, I pressed him for information. He wrote that you were happily helping your stepmother. But with four young children, I imagine it couldn’t have been as rosy a picture as he painted.”
Naomi dropped her chin. The truth threatened to dishonor her father, but lying to her grandmother was also a sin. “Papa seems quite happy.”
Ruth rolled her eyes. “Oh, I imagine he’s quite proud of himself for landing a young wife half his age. What burns me is how he treated you. You’re his only child, but instead of honoring that, he turned you into an unpaid governess, housekeeper, and nanny. Am I right?”
Her grandmother had perfectly described Naomi’s life in San Antonio, b
ut Naomi couldn’t confirm her suspicions without casting her father in a poor light. She kept her eyes on the rough wooden table, searching for the least-damaging answer.
“Your silence is answer enough,” Ruth said. “What happened to the gentleman who was calling on you? You wrote nothing about him in your last letters.”
Naomi rolled her lips together as if the action could prohibit hurtful words from escaping. She’d enjoyed Lucas’s attentions and had written of her hoped-for future with him.
“Answer me,” her grandmother said, a note of impatience in her voice.
Naomi glanced at her grandmother’s face. The kindness in her eyes told Naomi her loving grandmother wanted to help, but the white line encircling her lips meant Grandmother’s patience was limited. “Frances told Mr. Simpson he was no longer welcome to call on me.”
“Hadn’t your father given his approval?”
“The Simpson family has several thriving businesses and Papa was sure Lucas could provide for me. But when I spoke to Papa, he said Frances only had my best interest at heart.”
Her grandmother slapped the table with both hands and shook her head. “Don’t you see, Naomi? If you’d married, your stepmother would no longer have you to do her work.”
Marta brought a cup and saucer full of aromatic black coffee and set it in front of Naomi’s grandmother. “Let me know if you’d like anything else.”
Ruth nodded and blew on the hot beverage. Then she propped one elbow on the table and rested her head on her fist. “Well, I suppose your father and his new wife both got what they wanted. He got a young bride to show off and she got someone to support her and her children.”
Naomi leaned toward her grandmother. “I tried to follow the advice in Romans, the verse about rejoicing in our suffering because doing so would produce endurance, character, and hope, but…I’m afraid I failed.”
Ruth took her granddaughter’s hand and gazed into her eyes. “You didn’t fail, Naomi. Adjusting to a change in circumstances is one thing, but your father took advantage of you. I know you’ve been taught to obey and respect your father, but he went too far this time.”
Naomi squeezed her grandmother’s hand and returned to eating. She’d resented her stepmother’s commands and her father’s dismissive attitude, but had thought it wrong to complain. Her grandmother, however, had seen the truth and defended her. “You can probably imagine how grateful I am for your invitation to visit.”
Ruth sipped her coffee and smiled. “I hope you can stay with me permanently. Your grandfather’s land still provides enough of an income for the two of us. But that’s a talk for another day. Let’s get your trunk and head home.” Ruth removed a few coins from her reticule and laid them on the table.
Naomi took her grandmother’s arm and walked out of the station. Loma Verde was a small ranching town with only a few buildings, but it could be just the place to make a new beginning.
Naomi’s Choice by Claire Sanders is available through all major eBook retailers. Also available in print. For more information, visit www.prismbookgroup.com.
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