Rachel glanced up from her stitching just as Grandma Stafford peeked in her bedroom door. She pulled her thread taut and held it secure with her thumb.
“Aren’t you coming to the shindig?” Grandma asked.
Rachel shook her head. She couldn’t explain that being around the Staffords’ big, loving family had rekindled the hurt of losing hers. “I thought I might stay here and work on my tea towels.” She held up the flour-sack towel she’d been stitching.
“How pretty! You do lovely work.” Grandma eased down beside her on the bed. “That looks just like a red rose. How’d you do that?”
“It’s called a spiderweb rose stitch.” Rachel smiled. Thoughts of her mother drifted across her mind. “It was my ma’s favorite stitch. Her name was Rose, and the stitch reminds me of her.”
“That’s so sweet. What happened to your mother?” Grandma Stafford fingered the rose then handed the towel back to Rachel.
“She died in childbirth when I was twelve.”
“I’m so sorry. The kids lost their mother at a young age, too. Poor Micah lost two mothers.” She smiled and smoothed a wrinkle from her dark-blue skirt. “It’s difficult to lose someone you love whether it’s a child or your parent. So, is that stitch hard to make?”
“No, not at all.” Rachel shook her head. “I can show you how if you’d like. See, here’s one I just started.” Rachel smoothed the towel on her lap. “You start with five lines about one-half inch long, stitched to look like wagon spokes. Then, you take a thick thread or thin ribbon, and starting in the center, you weave over and under the spokes to make a rose design, like this.” She wove her red thread over a spoke and then under the next one, pulling the thread taut. “Here, you try it.”
Grandma held up her palms. “I’m afraid these old hands are no longer nimble enough for such an effort.”
Rachel bit back a smile. She knew Grandma Stafford’s hands were just fine.
“Grandma, where are you?” came a muffled call from somewhere in the house.
“In here, Lou.” Grandma stood and smoothed her dress. “Have you seen the sampler in the parlor?”
Rachel shook her head.
“Have a look at it some time. I’ve stitched the children’s names in it, and as each one marries, I add their spouse’s name.”
Lou stepped in the doorway. “You two comin’ to the party?”
Rachel shook her head. “I don’t think so. It’s a family gathering. I’d just be intruding.”
Trent came to the door. “Come on, Lou. I can already hear Josh singing.”
Josh was singing? Rachel thought back to their time on the trail. She loved to hear his strong, clear voice. Maybe she would go and stand in the shadows.
“Oh, come on. It’s not just family,” Lou said.
“That’s right, the ranch hands all come,” Grandma offered. “They’d love to dance with you. A few of the neighbors might even show up.” A wry grin curved her lips.
“Course, if the Testaments show up, Josh will have to hide you somewhere.” Mirth danced in Lou’s blue eyes.
Rachel smiled, not sure what Lou meant by the Testaments. “Maybe I will go for a little bit. You go ahead, and I’ll just put this away.”
She finished the spiderweb rose, folded the flour-sack tea towel, and set it on the little table next to the bed. She hoped to eventually have towels that represented each of the nine Fruits of the Spirit. As she stitched each towel, she asked God to fill her with that particular spiritual fruit. She’d already completed the love, joy, and peace towels, though God had yet to perfect those characteristics within her. Now she was working on patience.
Patience seemed the slowest in coming.
The longer she stayed at the Staffords’ ranch, the more she missed her parents and the brothers and sister who died before she could even hold them in her arms. It would be weeks before Grandpa’s leg was healed enough so they could travel. Somehow, she had to get hold of her emotions. At least she and Josh were talking again. He’d even done more than talking. Remembering their kiss sent butterflies dancing in her stomach in time with the lively music outside.
Rachel walked downstairs and peeked in the room where Grandpa was staying. His chest rose and fell in peaceful slumber. Lips that had kissed her cheeks many times puffed out with each breath. Love for him flooded her heart, but concern gnawed at her gut. His strength hadn’t returned since his accident. What would she do if he didn’t get well? If he died, she’d be alone.
Have faith—and patience. Don’t think on those things.
She pushed away from the door frame and walked through the dining room; the music outside beckoned louder with each step. Rachel started out the front door then turned back to the parlor. She scanned the homey room, and her eyes came to rest on the Stafford family sampler. Bright colors accented the usual alphabet, numbers, and flowers. Along the bottom, she read the names of the Stafford children. Two were already married, but Josh and Sam remained single.
Rachel ran her finger along Josh’s name. Joshua James Stafford. Well, not quite Jesse James. She grinned. Josh seemed a fitting name for a teasing cowboy with a heartwarming smile. His cocky grin certainly warmed her heart.
“Hey.”
Rachel jumped at the sound of Josh’s voice. Had he seen her tracing his name? Cheeks burning, she turned to face him, realizing that she no longer heard singing, just peppy guitar music and an occasional yee-haw. Why did her heart take off like a racehorse from a starting line whenever Josh came near?
He nodded his head toward the sampler. “Kind of nice having a family record like that.”
Rachel smiled and tucked her trembling hands behind her back. “Yeah, it is.” She tried not to stare, but Josh looked handsome cleaned up and in fancy clothes. His black pants and freshly shined boots accented his dark hair, which was free of his hat for a change. As if conscious of her gaze, his hand lifted and smoothed back the straight black hair that insisted on falling rebelliously across his forehead. The indigo shirt brought out the deep blue of his eyes.
“So … uh … you coming to the shindig?”
Rachel nodded, and a charming grin brightened Josh’s face.
“I was hoping to get a dance with the prettiest gal in the territory.” He crossed his arms, then dropped them to his side, then shoved his hands in his back pockets.
Rachel bit back a grin at his nervousness. The tough, bronc-busting cowboy seemed more like a shy schoolboy. Josh looked down at his boots, and she noticed his long, dark lashes.
When he glanced back at her, she couldn’t hold back her grin. Josh thought she was pretty—and he wanted to dance with her. He raised his head and straightened when he saw her smile. Rachel slid her hand around his offered arm.
“Did I tell you how pretty you look?” he said.
“It’s Deborah’s dress. She let me borrow it.” Josh held the screen door open, allowing her to pass in front of him.
“Well, you look good in green. Must get tiring borrowing clothes all the time.” Josh stepped beside her. He picked up her hand and looped her arm back around his. “You know, Lou and Deborah are planning a trip to town later this week. Why don’t you go and get something to wear? You probably lost ’bout everything when your horses ran off. I … uh … have some money saved. I’ll give you some to spend.”
Rachel stumbled, and Josh tightened his grip. She couldn’t let him spend his savings on her. “Thanks all the same, but I don’t think it would be proper for you to buy my clothes.”
“Why not?”
She shrugged. “It just wouldn’t. That’s all.”
Josh turned her to face him. “Maybe you could work it off somehow.”
“How?” Rachel narrowed her eyes at him, wondering what she could possibly do for him.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Then he flashed her an ornery grin, and her stomach did a jig. “Dance with me, Rachel Lee.”
Josh spun her through three dances before he agreed to allow Sam to claim her, and even then, he didn’t want to let her go. She was quite a fair square dancer. It worked well having another woman around so that there were four pairs of dancers instead of the usual three. Grandma, who opted to sit this round out, rested on the porch, fanning herself.
Feeling empty without Rachel to fill his hands, Josh picked up his guitar and started strumming along with Hank, one of the ranch hands. They played and sang “Oh! Susanna” and “Buffalo Gals,” but when Hank started into the slow-moving “Aura Lee,” Josh set his guitar aside. Slipping up behind Doug, he tapped his shoulder. The ranch hand scowled but relinquished Rachel to him.
“Aura Lee, Aura Lee, maid of golden hair; Sunshine came along with thee.…” Hank’s haunting words left Josh breathless. Rachel Lee, his own Aura Lee, hair of gold … So her eyes weren’t azure but a beautiful brown. He tugged Rachel closer and tightened his grip on her waist. As he stared into Rachel’s lovely face, he saw the question in her eyes.
He pulled her hand to his chest as Hank began the last verse. What was he feeling? Could it be love? He’d never felt so strongly about a woman before. Never considered spending the rest of his life with one before now. Sure, his affection had grown quickly, but he had bonded with Rachel, even when he thought she was a boy. There’d been a connection between them from the start. The soft guitar strumming and the quiet voices of talking cowhands faded into the background as Josh listened to the words of the song.
“Sunshine in thy face was seen, kissing lips of rose. Aura Lee, Aura Lee, take my golden ring.…” Josh captured Rachel’s gaze. When Hank sang about kissing and wedding rings, Rachel’s cheeks turned so crimson that he could see them well in the fading daylight.
All too soon, the song ended. Rachel stepped away, barely giving him a fleeting glance. “I—I need some air.” She fanned her face with her hand. “Too much dancing.” She turned and hurried toward the barn.