Snowflake Bride. Jillian Hart
“It took many years. We feared losing him at first. The doctor didn’t know how he survived. A true proof of grace,” she added, staring down at her misshapen mittens. “God was very good in letting us keep our pa. I don’t know what Rupert and I would have done if we’d lost him, too, so I understand what you might have gone through.”
“Worry, mostly. For a while we feared Pa might not walk again. Doc Frost said it was grace, too, that he’s up on his feet.”
“Grace is everywhere, when you look for it.”
“And when you need it most.” It was so easy to talk to her about what really mattered. Did she feel the same way? “How long ago was your pa injured?”
“I was five years old.” The sleigh bounced in a rut as Poncho turned onto the country road. She lifted a mittened hand to swipe snow out of her eyes. She felt closer somehow. Like they were no longer strangers.
“You were five? That must have been hard on your family.”
“Yes. Pa was laid up so long, we lost our crop. We couldn’t pay the doctor bills. Then we lost our land and our house, and we couldn’t 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