Snowflake Bride. Jillian Hart

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Название Snowflake Bride
Автор произведения Jillian Hart
Жанр Исторические любовные романы
Серия
Издательство Исторические любовные романы
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781408968727



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pay any of the other bills, either. The bank took everything but Solomon. Rupert worked long days in a neighbor’s field to earn the money to keep him.”

       “Did you have any other family to help?”

       “My uncle and his wife finally took us in. It was a long spell until Pa was able to work again, and he was determined to pay back every cent of his debts still outstanding.”

       “Most folks would have walked away. So your family was never able to get ahead?”

       “It was a hardship paying off the debts, but it was the right thing.”

       “Doing the right thing matters.” His dark blue eyes deepened with understanding. “It’s worth whatever the cost.”

       “Exactly.” When her gaze met his, her heart beat as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. It mattered that he understood honor. So many hadn’t. Probably because he had honor of his own. She blushed, because it would be so easy to like him, to really like him. Just as it would be to read more into his act of kindness in offering her this ride.

       “Your family owns land now, so your father must have paid off his debts.” He broke his gaze away to rein Poncho to keep him on the hard-to-see road. Even speckled with snow, Lorenzo’s handsomeness shone through.

       Not that she should be noticing.

       “Yes. Pa managed to save up enough for a mortgage, although we had to pay a lot of money down.” She picked at a too-tight stitch in her right mitten to keep from looking at him again. Not looking at him was for the best. “It is good to have our own land, but it’s only a hundred acres.”

       “A hundred acres of untilled land. Let me guess. Your first harvest wasn’t as good as it could have been. A first crop on new land is always a small one.”

       “And on top of that, most of our crop was damaged by a summer storm.” She blushed, still picking at the stitch. She could feel the tug of his gaze, the gentle insistence of his presence, and she wanted to look at him. But she was afraid of coming to care too much.

       “Next harvest will be better,” he promised. “As long as there isn’t a drought or a twister or a flash flood.”

       “Or another hailstorm,” she chimed in lightly. “Farming doesn’t come with a guarantee, but it would be a great blessing to have a good harvest, if we manage to stay on. My pa and brother work so hard. It would be a comfort for them.”

       “Then I’ll put it in my prayers.”

       His smile drew her gaze. Unable to resist, her eyes met his, and the world faded. The jarring of the sleigh ceased. The cold vanished, and there was only his sincerity, his caring and the quiet wish in her soul.

       Don’t give in to it, Ruby. Don’t start dreaming.

       “Here we are.” He tugged on the reins, Poncho drew to a stop. How had three miles passed so quickly?

       “Why, young Mr. Davis.” Pa’s voice came from far away, stupefied. He gripped a pitchfork in one gloved hand, emerging from the small barn. “Ruby, is that you?”

       “Yes, Pa.” Reality set in. She pushed off the buffalo robe and grabbed up her reticule. Snow slapped her cheeks as she tried to scramble out of the sleigh.

       “Allow me.” Lorenzo caught her hand. His warmth, his size, his presence overwhelmed her. Her breath caught. She forgot every word of the English langage. Her knees wobbled when she tried to stand on them. Little flashes of wishes filled her, but she tamped them down as he withdrew his hand.

       “What are you doing on this side of the county?” Pa asked, curiously. “Looking at the property for sale down the way?”

       “Not in this weather.” Lorenzo released her hand. “I wanted to make sure Ruby got home safe in this storm. I hear you have a horse with a shoe problem. I happen to have my tools in the back of the sleigh. If you wouldn’t mind, I can take care of that problem for you.”

       Her jaw dropped. She stared, stunned, as Pa led the way to the barn, taking Poncho by the bridle bits. All she could see was the straight strong line of Lorenzo’s wide shoulders through the storm until the thick curtain of snow closed around him, leaving her standing alone on the rickety, front doorstep of their lopsided shanty. That Lorenzo Davis. He was being charitable, that was all, but her heart would never forget.

      Chapter Three

      “And he went into the barn with your father?” Kate peered through dark lashes, astonished as she sorted through her embroidery floss.

       “And he re-shod Solomon for you?” Newlywed Lila looked up from stitching on a new shirt for her husband. “Out of the blue, just like that?”

       “Without being asked.” The tea kettle rumbled, so Ruby set aside her crocheting. The wooden chair scraped against the wood floor as she rose. It was a tight squeeze to have all seven of them in the front room, but it was warm and cozy, and she loved having the chance to host their sewing circle. “You could have knocked me down with a feather, I was so shocked. I guess this proves the rumors true. Young Mr. Davis is as nice as a man can be.”

       “That’s what we have been trying to tell you.” Red-headed Scarlet set down her tatting to get up to help with the tea. “He’s amazing. That’s why we have all been in love with him at one time or another.”

       “Not all of us,” Fiona corrected as she stitched on baby clothes. Her wedding ring winked in the lamplight as her needle slipped into a seam. The pleats of her dress hid the small bowl of her pregnant stomach. “I’ve always thought Lorenzo was nice, but I was never smitten.”

       “Not even a little?” Ruby set the tea to steeping in the old ironware pot. “Lorenzo is terribly handsome. Are you sure you didn’t like him at all?”

       “I’m positive.” Fiona’s smile came so easily.

       “He adored you from afar. We all saw it,” Scarlet added, taking a knife to the johnnycake cooling on the nearby table.

       “You broke his heart when you married Ian. Don’t deny it.” Earlee gave her golden curls a toss as she looked up from basting an apron ruffle. When she smiled, the whole world smiled, too. “If I were penning a story about him, I would have him fall in love with one of you three. A sweet, gentle love with lots of longing and a perfect happily-ever-after.”

       A perfect happily-ever-after. Didn’t that sound romantic? She tamped down her sigh right along with the memory of riding alongside Lorenzo in the sleigh. Her hands shook as she carried the pot and the stack of battered, mismatched tin cups to the circle of chairs in the sitting area.

       “It sounds like a story I would read,” Lila quipped, the voracious reader of the group. “So, Earlee, who would you match up with Lorenzo?”

       “Me!” Kate spoke up before Earlee could as she separated a thin strand of embroidery floss from a green skein. “I would be perfect for him.”

       “True,” Meredith agreed, head bent over her latest patchwork quilt block. “Except doesn’t he spend a lot of time with Narcissa Bell?”

       “Oh,” they all sighed together. Narcissa had been their arch nemesis for as long as anyone could remember.

       “I suppose it’s only a matter of time before we hear of their engagement.” Kate licked the end of the floss and threaded it through the eye of her needle. “It’s inevitable.”

       “It’s expected,” Lila agreed. “To hear my stepmother talk, their engagement party will be any day now.”

       “They are both from wealthy families.” Ruby couldn’t explain why pain hitched through her ribs.

       “And their mothers are close friends,” Earlee chimed in.

       “But so are Scarlet and his mother.” She lowered the pot to rest on the short end table Pa had made, which now