Colorado Courtship. Cheryl St.John

answered. “I was twelve when she made headlines. My father and I followed her column in the New York World from the moment she left New Jersey, through the Mediterranean, across the Suez Canal and the Indian Ocean, to Japan, all the way until she arrived in New York City. It was the most exciting adventure a girl could imagine.”

      The pleasure on Tessa’s face was worth a hundred Sunday afternoons of playing her game. “I was too young then to remember,” she said. “But I read the newspaper accounts in the archives at the library.”

      Their conversation convinced Ben Charles once and for all that God had answered his prayers and sent Violet. Emotion spread throughout his chest, like a comforting emollient for a previously aching heart. Thank You, Lord. Your mercies are indeed new every morning.

      “How do you play?” Violet asked.

      From a cabinet Tessa gathered the spinner and worn wooden tokens and explained the simple forward and backward movement in the spiral of spaces. “This isn’t Ben Charles’s favorite game, but he indulges me.”

      Violet met his eyes, her appreciation and compassion obvious. She gave him a tentative smile that changed the warmth in his chest to something else. Something hotter and more surprising.

      Something that didn’t resemble appreciation in the least.

      “What is your favorite game?” she asked.

      “I don’t mind a competitive game of croquet,” he replied. “Weather permitting.”

      “I keep telling him there is a parlor croquet set in Mr. Levine’s shop.”

      He grimaced. “If it must be a board game, then I prefer Carrom.”

      “You fling little disks across the board into pockets.” Tessa wrinkled her nose the same way she had since she was five and pointed to one of the larger boards on the wall. “Did your family play games at home?”

      “Only checkers,” Violet answered.

      “Maybe we could read Around the World in Seventy-Two Days together,” Tessa suggested.

      Violet didn’t blink an eye. “I would enjoy that.”

      Ben Charles believed she meant it.

      Violet joined the play with enthusiasm, and the two young women pointed out the details of the book at each space on the board. His sister’s animation and smile gave him immense satisfaction. The game lasted a couple of hours, until he got hungry. “I’m going to go get us a tray of ham and cheese and bread.”

      “I can do that,” Violet spoke up.

      “It’s your day off,” he reminded her. “We’re used to fending for ourselves on Sunday evenings. We can pop corn over the fire later.”

      It was obvious their routine and customs were new to Violet. He and his sister spent a lot of time alienated from others, but perhaps even in their seclusion they’d been more like a family than anything Violet had experienced.

      They shared a simple meal, and later ate popcorn. Tessa played a few pieces on the pianoforte. When she’d finished she said to Violet, “I had a nice time. Thanks for joining the game.”

      “It was my pleasure.”

      Tessa kissed Ben Charles’s cheek. “Thank you, too. And don’t say it was your pleasure.”

      “It’s my pleasure to see you happy.”

      She briefly pressed her cheek to his. “I’m going upstairs to read before bed. Good night.”

      Once she was gone, Violet stood and leaned over to gather their dishes on the tray. Without standing, Ben Charles extended his hand and placed it on her wrist. “I’ll do that.”

      She looked at his hand, but he didn’t remove it.

      He should have.

      She was new to their household. He intended for theirs to be a strictly working relationship, but he felt a constant need to assure her she was part of their family. He had no business changing their agreement or making her uncomfortable by letting new feelings get in the way.

      She’d only been here a few days.

      In those brief moments while her gaze moved from his hand to his face, he went over all the reasons why he needed to keep his distance.

      But everything about Violet appealed to him and made him feel protective. He told himself he held only a brotherly concern, like that he felt for Tessa, but the lie didn’t convince him.

      She didn’t pull her arm away. Her curious gaze searched his eyes and moved to his lips. His chest expanded with warmth, and he reminded himself to breathe.

      He wanted to kiss Violet Bennett.

      Kissing would definitely be inappropriate. She was in his employ.

      “Was there something else you wanted?” she asked finally.

      He released her wrist finally. “I’ll carry that to the kitchen and bank the fire. Run along and get some rest.”

      His voice was gruffer than he’d intended.

      She straightened, wished him a good-night and left the room. Once she was gone, he could breathe more easily. He had a long day ahead tomorrow, and he needed to rest, not stir up his thoughts and reactions to the new cook. He had more fortitude than that.

      By midnight he questioned that reasoning.

      Chapter Six

      Ben Charles and Henry both came to breakfast dressed in black suits and white shirts. Violet couldn’t help a second look at Ben Charles’s neatly combed hair. He wore a ring with a gold letter on a flat black stone on his little finger. She’d never seen the piece of jewelry before. As she served his coffee, she noted the initial was a cursive H.

      He smelled good, too—clean with a hint of barely discernible spice. She remembered the warmth of his fingers on her wrist the night before. She hadn’t been able to sleep because of that touch. She’d lain awake thinking of the game the three of them had played and the smiles they’d shared. For brief moments during those hours she’d been able to forget she was alone in the world. In those minutes she’d felt accepted and like a part of something valuable.

      This morning, seeing him in his funeral clothing ready to perform his duties, she was forced to remember how different the two of them were. She was curious now about the schedule and events, but too cowardly to speak of it.

      Tessa surprised her by joining them, dressed in a lovely black dress with pouf sleeves. A sash belted her waist, the tail of the bow streaming down the front of the skirt. Up close, intricate silver-gray embroidery was visible on the bodice. Tessa would be attending the funeral?

      As if recognizing Violet’s puzzlement, she spoke up. “I help arrange the flowers and chairs in the family room, and I greet family and friends as they arrive.” She glanced at her brother. “If a need arises, Ben Charles lets me know and I’m there to handle it.”

      “You didn’t know Guy, but the service is at ten if you care to attend,” Ben Charles told her. “Don’t worry about our noon meal. There will be food served after the burial. You’re welcome to join us.”

      Just the thought made Violet’s heart beat more quickly. She didn’t know how people could eat after something like that. “Thank you, but I’ll stay here.”

      “That’s fine.” Ben Charles finished his second cup of coffee.

      “There was a moose on the road this morning,” Henry said.

      “Male or female?” Ben Charles asked.

      “Male. He wasn’t inclined to move either.”

      “Will you check the road again before ten?” Ben Charles asked. “We don’t want that animal hindering our guests’ arrival.” He looked to Violet.