Читать книгу Rocky Mountain Proposal - Pamela Nissen - Страница 13

Aaron watched from the front room as Hope made her way to the small spare bedroom to put her shawl away. His throat grew tight as she passed by Paul’s bedroom, pausing momentarily and peering inside, her slender hand curled around the etched metal doorknob. She quietly closed the door and entered the room across the hallway.

She’d been stalwart all day long, from the time he’d dragged himself from the hayloft early this morning to take care of the chores until now, when at least two dozen people she didn’t even know were set to arrive. And she’d been so patient with Jane.

It’d taken Aaron by surprise, the downright rude way Jane responded to Hope about the gathering on the ride here. Paul had mentioned that Jane could be testy, but Aaron had never seen that side of her.

Ever since his wife and baby’s death, Jane had been the picture of neighborly support. She’d shown up at least once a week at the wood shop, a basket laden with baked goods hanging from her arm. She’d even brought a noontime meal by on several occasions. Aaron had been grateful for the offerings, but he’d never seen them as anything more than kindly gestures.

Now he wasn’t so sure—especially with the way Jane had taken to clinging to him like mud to a pig.

Hope had held her own with Jane. Oddly enough, that had struck a chord of satisfaction and pride in his heart, but still he felt compelled to watch over the situation. He’d dropped Jane off at her house on the edge of Paul’s property, hoping that a little rest before the meal was served would remove the woman’s sharp edge. Although Hope had smoothed over Jane’s rudeness today with understanding—a surprising trait, given her fancy ways and attire—he hadn’t missed the way embarrassment had colored Hope’s fair cheeks when Jane had glared at her earlier today as she’d climbed aboard the buckboard in her bright blue dress.

As far as Aaron was concerned, it shouldn’t matter a lick what color a person wore to a funeral. And frankly he didn’t think God much cared, either. What mattered most in Aaron’s book was honoring life. Paul’s life had been honored today—that was certain. It was honored by his friends and neighbors who’d recalled his kindness and acts of mercy and also by this woman he’d been set to wed. She’d honored him in the quiet strength she’d shown in the face of a difficult set of circumstances, in the gracious way she’d answered questions from some of the townsfolk earlier and in the patient way she’d endured Jane’s near-tantrum this morning when Aaron and Ben had informed Jane of Paul’s deathbed decisions.

But life had only just begun for Hope here. There was plenty to be done, and the complete naivety she’d shown around Paul’s cattle was proof enough that she didn’t have the first idea about farm life. Aaron couldn’t imagine her continuing on with such poise and courage when faced with milking the cows or digging her hands into the soil.

He’d help her out and keep an eye on the situation with Jane because he’d promised and because it was the right thing to do. But he’d do so with as minimal contact with Hope as possible because for some reason he couldn’t keep his thoughts from straying straight to her.

Last night when he’d finally nestled into the hayloft to sleep he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about the way Hope had saved that barn kitten from sure death, the way she’d kept her calm, the way she’d said, “Excuse me,” to the cattle as she made her way through their midst and the way she’d met Aaron’s concern with such innocence and determination in her gaze.

“Well, where is she?” Katie, his brother Joseph’s wife, asked, intruding on Aaron’s thoughts. Thankfully.

“Who?” He hadn’t even heard Katie and Joseph enter the house.

“Hope. That’s who. I met her at the funeral. She’s a dear.” Katie peered at him as though he’d spoken some foreign language. “Is she all right?”

Concern for her rose within him just as fast as a rainstorm in the mountains. “What do you—”

“There you are.” Katie crossed to meet Hope as she entered the room and set a stack of dishes down on the table. “How are you doing after everything?”

“I’m fine.” The faint smile on Hope’s face was far from convincing and strummed another unexpected chord of compassion in Aaron’s heart. “I was just freshening up.” He gave her a quick once-over. She hadn’t looked disheveled when they’d arrived home. In fact, she still looked picture perfect.

It was the exact opposite of the windblown, no-fuss, natural way Ellie had always been.

“I thought that perhaps we could use some of the dishes I brought from home for the gathering today,” she said as she glanced back at the fine china. “I just unpacked them.”

Was Hope putting on airs? Was she intent on impressing the lot of folks here with her obvious trappings of wealth? Folks here weren’t so easily awed. Oh, maybe some of the ladies would fawn over the flourish of it all, but most folks put more stock in hard work, endurance and good living.

Katie strode right past surface pleasantries and encircled Hope in a hug. The rigid way Hope had held her shoulders back and head high all day seemed to lessen some, and for that Aaron was thankful. “I think the dishes will be a lovely touch to the gathering, Hope. Thank you for offering them.”

As much as he was uncomfortable with this whole situation, he couldn’t bear seeing her try so hard to be strong. He was worn out just watching her and was intent on making sure she rested throughout the gathering.

“Hope, I want you to meet my husband, Joseph.” Katie glanced over her shoulder at Joseph.

“I’m sorry about your loss, ma’am. Please accept my condolences.” He stepped closer and held his hand out to Hope. “Paul was a good man. He’ll be missed.”

Hope hesitated for a moment then took his hand as though suddenly aware that Joseph was unable to see. “Thank you. It does come as quite a shock.”

Joseph had been without his sight for almost a year now. Aaron had encouraged him that he’d done a remarkable job adapting, but Joseph would funnel all of the credit to his wife, who’d initially come to Boulder as his teacher.

“I want to assure you that I’ll do without that brother of mine as much as I can so that he can be here with you.” Joseph gently draped his arm over his wife’s shoulders, the clear look of self-satisfaction pricking Aaron’s ire.

Be here with her?

Why would he say that? Sure as shootin’, he could’ve come up with something else to say. Aaron could only hope that Joseph felt the annoyance he was aiming in his direction.

“Oh, it won’t be necessary for him to miss work.” Hope’s brow furrowed slightly. “I’m sure I’ll be able to manage. I already informed Aaron as much.”

Katie sidled up next to Hope. “Don’t look a gifted horse in the mouth, my dear.”

“That’s a gift horse.” Joseph chuckled.

“The horse could be gifted, too, I suppose,” Aaron added watching as Joseph pulled his wife close and gave her a hug.

“You two…” Katie melted into her husband’s embrace. “You knew what I meant.”

Aaron was glad for Joseph’s happiness, but whenever he witnessed the love that Joseph and Katie shared, his own loss seemed to grow deeper and stronger, like a stubborn root. Time hadn’t healed his heart, as some well-meaning folks had assured him. Instead it had exaggerated the pain. Someday, maybe, he wouldn’t be plagued with the familiar ache, but never again would he love.

The idea that he’d almost entered into marriage yesterday made his heart lurch to a grinding halt. What had he been thinking?

He’d been thinking like a Drake, that’s what. Honor your word. Let loyalty and right-living be your trademark.

He could be grateful until his dying day that Hope had been good enough to turn him down.

“As I was saying,” Katie began again, “Aaron will be a great help. Besides, Joseph has been talking about hiring on another craftsman.”

“What kind of gossip am I missing out on?” Zach edged into the gathering, standing beside Aaron as he slid Katie a playful wink.

“Don’t you go winking at my wife, Zach,” Joseph warned. “Do you hear?”

Zach waggled his eyebrows at the lot of them. “And how would you know I did that?”

“Because that’s what you always do. You’re predictable,” Joseph added with a grin.

Zach grabbed at his chest, winking at Hope this time. “You wound me, Joseph. Predictable? No man wants to be thought of as predictable.”

“We know you up one side and down another.” Joseph chuckled. “Face it. You’ve got the cowboy nod and wink down to a science. You could teach a class on it at Boulder College—that is, if they offered such things.”

“Ben, Joseph and Aaron like to accuse Zach of being the quintessential ladies’ man,” Katie explained to Hope.

She turned an amused expression on Zach and studied him for a long moment. “Perhaps they underestimate you?” The warmth of her smile made the air suddenly seem unbearably stuffy.

Aaron pulled at his collar. If there was one thing he didn’t want to do, it was give his brothers any kind of weakness to pounce on. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them, but with the way they’d acted yesterday about Hope, he couldn’t help but feel like they were pushing for something that could never be—plain and simple.

“Now there’s a smart woman,” Zach proclaimed, sweeping his Stetson from his head and making a grand bow toward Hope. “I’m barely acquainted with her and already she knows me better than my own flesh and blood.”

On a sigh, Aaron gave his head a shake. “My family. I can always count on them to be welcoming to strangers and to make awkward situations more comfortable.”

Like now. Hope had to be overwhelmed by everything she’d gone through the past day. He doubted she was eager to have a houseful of strangers, but at least his family would be here to buffer the discomfort of it all.

And there was Jane to consider. She would need support.

Besides, he and his brothers had all agreed that, though they’d like to put it off for another time, they’d have to talk with Hope at some point today about the farm—how she wanted to handle things, what kind of chore schedule they could work out and if she was considering hiring a farmhand.

If that was the case then no man would work for her unless he passed to Aaron’s satisfaction. Even then he would insist on closely guarding the situation. A woman like Hope—beautiful, helpless and alone—would be a dark-minded man’s dream.

“I just figure if I keep my contact with the ladies to a harmless wink here or there then I don’t have to worry about stuttering.” Zach jammed his hat back on his head. “Although, thank the good Lord I hardly ever have a problem with it anymore.”

“Are we missing out on something?” Ben asked as he closed the door behind his family, Callie—his wife of six months—and her seven-year-old daughter, Libby.

“Uncle Aaron, Uncle Aaron,” Libby squealed as she ran the short distance and jumped into Aaron’s arms.

“Well, hello there, Libby-Loo.” He gave her a big hug.

Callie had shown up on Ben’s doorstep last October, wanting a job. Little did they all know that this stranger was their brother Max’s widow. Having endured seven years of abuse and suffering at Max’s hands, Callie had sought Ben out, per Max’s dying words, as a last resort. Aaron gulped past the lump that always formed in his throat whenever he thought of the situation and how she’d been reunited with her daughter from Max after he’d used the child, a newborn at the time, to pay off a gambling debt. He’d lied to Callie, saying that the baby had died just as Callie had passed out with the final birthing push. God had definitely redeemed many a heartache.

“I been missing you, Uncle Aaron.” Libby wrapped him up in a gigantic hug then pulled away and held his face between her small hands. “You have to come see the new kitty Papa brought home. She’s real pretty.”

“Really? A new kitty, huh?” Aaron glanced at Hope, thinking about the helpless yellow tabby she’d rescued.

With the way Hope was gazing at him, her eyes full and bright and laden with enchantment, he couldn’t seem to look away. He didn’t know what was getting into him. Why did he seem so captivated by her?

“Uncle Aaron, did you hear me?” Libby tugged his head to square his focus with hers. “I said the kitty is all white. Like a bride. Like Mama was when she married Papa.”

“Oh, how sweet,” Hope whispered.

Libby twisted in Aaron’s arms and peered at Hope, as if noticing her for the first time. She wiggled out of his hold and went to stand in front of Hope. “You’re a pretty lady.”

Hope’s cheeks suddenly flushed to pink as she clasped her slender hands together in front of her. “Why, thank you. Might I say that you are a very pretty girl.”

A sweet smile spread across Libby’s face as she studied Hope. “I like your blue dress. Mama said that Miss Jane thought your dress was too blue, but I—”

“Libby.” Bending over, Callie whispered something in the girl’s ear.

Libby tucked her chin a notch. “Well, I think it’s very pretty. Don’t you, Uncle Aaron?” She peered up at him.

Heat instantly infused his cheeks. He brushed his hand down his arm, dusting imaginary dirt from his sleeve.

“Uncle Aaron, you’re not listening to me.” Libby furrowed her brow in that adorable way of hers that always tugged at Aaron’s heartstrings.

“Yes, the dress is very nice. Beautiful.” He set his gaze just over Hope’s shoulder, but even out of the corner of his vision he caught a whisper of vulnerability cross her face.

If he looked at her now, straight in the eyes, she might be able to see the way his soul had suddenly begun churning with the smallest bit of tenderness, attraction.

He was being ridiculous. He was as silly as a smitten schoolboy. He’d been widowed for ten months. He’d not spared any woman a single glance. So why would he now? Aaron struggled to pull himself together as he wondered what had gotten into him.

“You have a lovely dress, too. Pink is such a charming color—just like you.” Hope nodded at Libby with a fair amount of fancy manners. Which probably went far with Libby seeing as how the girl considered herself an expert in ladylike ways.

The way Libby perched her hands in front of her in the same manner as Hope provoked a few light chuckles from his family.

“My name’s Libby.” She reached out and fingered Hope’s satin dress. “What’s your name?”

She knelt and met Libby, eye to eye. “Hope.”

Hope. Aaron’s promise once again unfurled in his mind like a heralding banner. He’d like to just roll it up and stuff it away, but try as he might, he couldn’t seem to catch the thing and bring it back.

“I like your name. Hope. Mama and Papa say that we should always have hope.” She turned and looked at Ben and Callie, her earnest expression melting Aaron’s heart. “Don’t you?”

“Yes, we do,” Ben answered on a wink. He pulled a hand over his mouth as though to wipe off a grin. “We’re all for hope.”

Aaron couldn’t feel any more cornered than he did right now. Ben, Zach, Joseph, Callie and Katie.…

At least sweet little Libby hadn’t forsaken him.

Just then Libby peered back at Hope, reached out and took her hand. “So I guess that means you’re gonna be part of our family.”

Hope yawned as long and wide as she imagined humanly possible. Five o’clock in the morning was far earlier than she was accustomed to rising, but after Aaron and his brothers had set her down yesterday and noted the numerous chores and details of the farm for her, she was quite certain that this ghastly hour wouldn’t be nearly early enough.

All night long she’d been deliberating the enormous changes in her life and had just nodded off when a loud cackling call from outside her window had pierced her slumber. Once again, she peered out the bedroom window, watching as the large chestnut-colored rooster strutted as pretty as you please, right underneath her opened window. With one eye aimed her way, he stared up at her as if to get a glimpse of the newcomer.

She tugged her long white opera gloves on as far as they would go, adjusted her pale green silk dress, then drew her shawl around her shoulders and walked out to the barn. Her warm breath fanned out in a ghostlike cloud into early morning, the hint of purple, pink and orange hanging on the horizon, heralding the day. When she opened the barn door, an earthy, not exactly unpleasant, scent met her square in the face. Holding a lantern before her, she stepped inside, the dim light lapping up the darkness in warm, gentle waves.

The crude dwelling closed her in but not so that she felt unsafe. Holding the lantern high, she looked the barn over, noticing the sturdiness and how solid and thick the beams were that endured the weight.

Just then a shifting sound came from somewhere up ahead. Then it came again followed by a low groan.

She froze on the spot and slid her gaze to the left where the noise originated. When another low groan met her, she nearly dropped the lantern.

Her heart pounded hard and fast inside her chest as she scanned the dwelling. She held her breath, images of a mountain lion leaping from the shadows and pouncing on her flashing through her mind. The hair on her neck stood on end. With needlelike claws, fear pierced deep, delving into her peace, her mind, her composure.

The noise came again followed by a distinctive mooing sound.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Hope sighed in the most unladylike way she’d ever permitted herself. “It’s only a cow.”

She was being silly. Aaron had cautioned her on many issues, but milking the cow had not been counted among them. There was nothing to fear. Right?

In truth, she could find trepidation in nearly every place she looked. But if she let fear guide her thoughts, she might not have the fortitude to manage on her own. Growing up in a wealthy Boston family, she’d never been exposed to farm animals except for the horses that had pulled their carriages to and fro. She’d often begged for a cat or a dog to love, but her mother had refused, noting that animals belonged in the country.

Willing one foot in front of the other, she followed a generously large, dirt-packed corridor to a stall where a fat brown cow stood, its tail swishing from side to side as it chewed on something. It peered over at her, its big brown eyes looking no more malicious than its thin, long tail looked like a weapon.

“Now, then, aren’t you a fine-looking cow?” She willed her pulse to even out.

Nonplussed by her greeting, the creature continued chewing in a slow and lazy way.

She opened the latch to the wood-plank half door and squeezed inside, quickly closing it behind her. Although this four-legged being seemed docile enough, Hope couldn’t be sure that, given the opportunity, it might not escape. And she definitely didn’t fancy the idea of chasing it about the farm yard.

“You must be the cow I’m going to milk this morning.”

The beast sighed, its warm breath hanging like a peaceful mist in the crude stable. Aaron had cautioned her never to stare into the eyes of a bull, but he’d obviously never met this cow.