Snowflake Bride. Jillian Hart

her irises and drew a beautiful smile. “I got the job. I got it.”

       “I’m mighty proud of you, Ruby-bug.” Jon Ballard’s love shone in his voice, love for his precious daughter.

       Lorenzo thought she was precious, too.

       “Oh, thank your mother for me. I mean, I will thank her on Monday, too, when I see her. But, oh, just thank you.” She clutched the letter tight until it crinkled.

       “I will tell her. Your interview went better than you thought.”

       “But how? It’s a complete and total mystery.”

       “No mystery.” His reassurance held notes of humor and kindness. “You deserve this, Ruby. My mother wants you to start at six o’clock sharp.”

       “I’ll be there early, just like I promised.” This was too good to be true. She’d been so sure she had failed, that it was impossible, and yet here she was, an employee. She had her first job, she would be earning a wage. A real wage. Joy bubbled through her, impossible to contain. She had a job! “I hope I don’t break anything. Or spill something. I don’t know anything about serving.”

      Good going, Ruby. Point out to your employer’s son exactly how much of a mistake his mother had made. She laughed. “I’m so happy and anxious and everything.”

       “I understand.” The deep shine of his dark blue gaze met hers, sincere and powerful enough to knock the beat out of her heart. Her happiness dimmed, her soul stilled as he tipped his hat, and she could not look away. She could see the shadow of day’s growth on his strong, square jaw. His masculine strength shrank the shanty and made every bit of air vanish. No man on earth could be as amazing as Lorenzo

       Candlelight flickered over him, caressing the powerful angles of his face and gleaming darkly on the thick, dark fall of his hair. She lost the ability to breathe as he took a step backward into the darkness. Snow sifted over him like spun sugar.

       Don’t start wishing, Ruby.

       “I shouldn’t leave my horse standing in this cold. Good night, Ruby. I will see you on Monday.”

       “On Monday.” The words stuttered over her tongue, her legs went weak, and she grasped the door frame before she tumbled face-first onto the snowy step. Monday. A different kind of panic clutched her, cinching tight around her middle.

       She would see Lorenzo every day. She would be in his house, be in proximity with his family and washing his dishes. The warm place in her heart remembered his touch, his gallantry, his kindness. It made a girl want to dream.

      Focus, Ruby. She no longer had time for schoolgirl wishes. Pa’s tired gait drummed on the floorboards behind her, coming closer. In the dying storm, Lorenzo was a shadow, then a hint of a shadow and finally nothing more. The beat of Poncho’s hooves faded until there was only the whispering hush of falling snow and the winter’s cold.

       She closed the door firmly against the darkness. Discarded wishes followed her like snowflakes in the air as she headed toward the stove to make a cup of tea for her father. She had the chance to make a real difference for her family. Monday was what she ought to think about. Monday, when she started her new job.

       In the predawn light, Ruby slid off of Solomon in the shelter of the Davis’s barn. Breathing in the scents of hay and warm horse, she glanced around. Stalls were filled with animals eating out of their troughs. What did she do with Solomon? Where did she take him?

       Something tugged at her hat, knocking it askew on her head. Dear old Solomon’s whiskery lips nibbled the brim and the side of her face in comfortable adoration. They had been friends for a long time. She patted his neck and leaned against him, her sweet boy. “I’m sure I’m supposed to put you somewhere, but I didn’t think to ask when Lorenzo delivered the letter.”

       Solomon’s nicker rumbled low in his throat, a comforting answer of sorts. Fortunately, she did not have to wonder for long as footsteps tapped her way, echoing in the dark aisle. She couldn’t see his face, but she would know those mile-wide shoulders anywhere.

       “Good morning, Ruby.” Lorenzo Davis ambled out of the shadows. Two huge buckets of water sloshed at his sides as he made his way to the end stall. “You are early.”

       “Only twenty minutes.” She’d meant to be earlier, but the roads had been slow going with a thick layer of ice. It had been all Solomon could do to keep his footing. “I’m surprised to see you packing water. Isn’t that the stable boy’s job?”

       “Sure, but I help with the barn work.” His answer came lightly as he hefted one of the buckets over the wooden rail. Water splashed into a washtub. “Stay back, Sombrero, or you’ll get wet again.”

       Inside the stall, a horse neighed his opinion. A hoof stomped as if in a protest or a demand to hurry up with the water. The man had a way with animals, she had to give him credit for that. His powerful stance, his rugged masculinity and his ease as he lifted the second ten-gallon bucket and emptied it etched a picture into her mind. That picture took on life and color, and when she blinked, it remained. Another image of the man she could not forget. Her soul sighed just a little. She couldn’t help it.

       Solomon nudged her a second time, gently reminding her she was doing it again—staring off into thin air when there was work to be done. She shook her head, cleared her thoughts and gently patted her gelding’s shoulder. “Where can I put up my boy?”

       “I’ll take him.” Lorenzo set down the bucket and held out a hand to Solomon. “You remember me, don’t you, old fella?”

       The swaybacked animal snorted in answer. His ears pricked, he snuffled Lorenzo’s palm with his muzzle, gray with age. His low-noted nicker was clearly a horsy greeting. Did every living creature adore the man?

       “Are you nervous about starting your new job?” He caught Solomon’s reins. If he noticed the leather straps were wearing thin, he didn’t comment.

       “Just a tad.” That was an understatement, but she wasn’t about to admit it. All she could see was doom. So much could go wrong to cause Mrs. Davis to change her mind or for the stern-looking Lucia to fire her. Anxiety clawed behind her rib cage like a trapped rodent.

       Just breathe, she told herself. No need to panic.

       Lorenzo’s intensely dark blue eyes glowed softly as if he cared. While his gaze searched hers, she felt as if she were the only woman on earth. His slow smile spread wonderfully across his mouth. Like the sun dawning, his smile could light up her life if she let it.

       “Everything will be just fine.” Lorenzo’s hand settled on her shoulder, a pleasantly heavy weight meant to be comforting.

       It wasn’t. Why was he touching her? The panic clawing inside her chest doubled. Maybe he was trying to soothe her, but it unnerved her. Air squeezed through her too-tight throat in a little hiccup.

       His hand didn’t move, his touch remained like out of a dream. Was she really smiling up at him, so close she could see the nearly black threads in his irises and the smooth-shaven texture of his square jaw? Good thing she was independent, because a woman less confident might be tempted to lay her cheek on the powerful plane of his chest.

       Not her, but some other woman might let herself dream what it would be like when he folded his iron-hewn arms around her and held her tightly.

       It was a good thing she had her feet firmly on the ground. Because that wasn’t what she wanted. Nope, not at all. What she wanted was to save her family’s farm. To lessen her father’s burden.

       Solomon blew out his breath, drawing her out of her thoughts. Lorenzo moved away, rubbed the gelding’s nose. “Go in the back door. Just follow the path around the side of the house.”

       “Take good care of my boy.” She lifted her chin, trying to shake away the effects from being too near to the man. He was an absolute hazard.

       “I’ll treat him like my own. Right, Solomon?” That irresistible kindness