Chapter Six

The following afternoon, Caleb’s hands trembled as he steered the buggy team down the drive that led to the house he’d grown up in. He hadn’t felt this on edge since presenting his first trial case before a judge. In a way, that was what he was doing today, presenting his case to the lovely woman at his side, his future happiness hanging in the balance.

Something had changed last night. He couldn’t define it or explain it, but he recognized the difference. Rosalind had lowered her guard. Maybe not completely, but enough to give him hope that he might find a way past her defenses. A way to her heart.

Bobbie’s urging last night for him to show Rosalind around the Bar D had provided the perfect opening. A bribe of opera house tickets for Callie and her fiancé to enjoy the next time Flint came to town secured a trade in shifts, providing Rosalind with the opportunity to escape for a couple hours this afternoon. He’d promised to return her to the depot in plenty of time for the dinner rush and had prepared to argue away any other protests she might offer. But none came. She’d accepted his invitation with a solicitude that bordered on eagerness. That was when he knew—today was the day.

The gentle sway of the open buggy pressed Rosalind’s hip and shoulder against his side, leaving his pulse as unsteady as his hands. He watched her from the corner of his eye as she absorbed the simple country scenery as if it were fine art stretched across a museum canvas.

“Look!” She pointed at a jackrabbit scampering across the road in front of them, her laughter bringing a smile to his face.

“Wait until you see our new foal. Born just last week.” Caleb twisted to meet Rosalind’s gaze, her blue eyes so filled with delight that he found it impossible to look away. “She’s a beauty.” As was the woman before him.

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

Meet who? He’d completely lost his conversational bearings. Staring at her smile had that effect. Made a man forget where he was and what he was doing.

“Didn’t expect to see ya today, Mr. D.” A dark-skinned man exited the barn, a wide grin splitting his face as Caleb quickly adjusted his hold on the reins to keep the horses from walking straight through the barn door. “And you brought a lady friend too.” The wrangler moseyed over to Rosalind’s side of the buggy once Caleb had the conveyance fully halted, and tipped his hat to her. “Lincoln Sanderson, ma’am.”

Rosalind, who had bitten her lip to hold back what was surely a chuckle at Caleb’s driving blunder, unleashed a bright smile on Linc. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sanderson.” She held her hand out to him, and the middle-aged wrangler blinked at her, either undone by the force of her smile or immobilized by shock that a white woman unknown to him was inviting his touch.

He managed to shake off his stupor, though, and jumped forward to help her descend. Taking her hand and elbow, he ensured her balance as she found the buggy’s step and finally the ground.

A little disappointed that he hadn’t been awarded the pleasure of helping her alight, Caleb snuffed out the jealousy flaring in his midsection and circled the rear of the buggy to regain his position at Rosalind’s side.

“Linc here’s the best wrangler for miles around. There’s not a horse he can’t train, an ailment he can’t cure, or tack he can’t repair. The Bar D’s lucky to have him.”

Linc dipped his chin, then aimed a wink at Rosalind. “Don’t let him bamboozle you, ma’am. I’m just an old cowhand who’s picked up a few things over the years, is all.”

“I believe they call that wisdom,” Rosalind said. “A rare and valuable asset.”

Linc stood a little straighter. “Thank ya, ma’am.” He nodded to Rosalind, then moved closer to Caleb. “You done well for yourself with this’un, Mr. D.”

Not wanting to unsettle Rosalind with a claim that wasn’t yet his to make, Caleb dodged back to a safer topic. “I’d like to show Miss Kemp Penelope’s foal. She in the paddock?”

“Yessir.” Linc gestured with a tip of his head at the barn’s alleyway. “Straight back. Go on and take yer lady through. I’ll see to your rig.” Linc moved to the team, his hand floating over the nearest horse’s side as he strolled up to their heads.

“Thanks.” Caleb held an arm out to Rosalind. “Shall we?”

She nodded and fit her hand into the crook of his arm. Satisfaction flooded him at a level completely out of proportion for such a platonic gesture. Yet there was nothing platonic about the feelings stirring in his chest as he drew her forward. He wanted this woman by his side—not just today, but forever.

As they cleared the shade of the barn, sunlight made Caleb squint as he sought out mother and babe. “Ah, there they are.”

A chestnut mare to his right raised her head from where she’d been grazing. She eyed the newcomers, then nickered softly. Caleb had known Penelope from the time she was a filly herself. She’d been one of his favorite mounts, her gait smooth and her temperament spirited, until she’d been set aside for breeding last year.

He approached slowly, hand outstretched. “Hey, Penny. How’s my girl today?”

She tossed her head, sending her mane flying, then stepped forward and nosed his hand. Caleb ran his palm up over her cheek and patted her neck as he eased closer. Glancing over his shoulder, he urged Rosalind to follow him with a wave.

“It’s all right,” he said, trying to reassure both of his ladies.

Rosalind stepped closer, holding her hand out in front of her. Caleb fit his cupped palm beneath her outstretched hand and guided it to Penelope’s nose, letting the horse familiarize herself with Rosalind’s scent. Then he gently tugged Rosalind even closer, positioning her in front of him and showing her how to stroke the mare’s coat. She’d told him that she hadn’t spent much time around horses, having grown up in a town where she could walk everywhere she needed to go. Yet it wasn’t purely a desire to instruct her that motivated Caleb. Holding her hand was pure pleasure, and standing close enough to catch the floral scent of her hair and feel the brush of her skirt against his legs was about as near to heaven as he’d ever come.

He should let her pet the horse on her own—it wasn’t a complicated task, after all—but he didn’t. He just kept stroking the mare with Rosalind’s hand cupped in his, inwardly exulting when she made no effort to pull away. They stood like that for several minutes, arms spooned together, breathing melding into a single pattern, until Penelope grew restless and stomped a back hoof. The mare sidestepped and turned her attention back to her foal.

Lashes lowered, Rosalind dropped her arm and pivoted to face him. The physical connection might have ended, but Caleb swore a metaphysical one still linked them. Her lashes lifted. Their gazes met and held. And for the first time, she made no effort to hide herself from him. She exposed doubt, a touch of fear, and a lingering sadness he’d never perceived before. Yet hope and longing glimmered above the rest, making his breath catch in his throat.

“Rosalind.” He reached for her, but before his fingers could find the curve of her cheek, she twisted sideways and focused her attention on the foal walking on wobbly legs beside her mother. Penelope had grown weary of humans who were more interested in each other than in her, and had decided to take her offspring on a lap around the paddock.

“What’s the baby’s name?” Rosalind held her hands together in front of her as if physically restraining herself. From what? Reaching for him? Caleb prayed it was so, for that might actually mean that her feelings for him mimicked his for her. She refused to look at him, though. Instead, she followed the horses’ movements with her eyes, as mare and foal meandered along the paddock fence.

Caleb slid in beside her. He kept his hands to himself and made a show of watching the horses, but all of his attention focused on Rosalind. “We haven’t named her yet.” He twisted his head in her direction. “Would you like the honor?”

That brought her face around. “Me?” Her blue eyes brightened as if he’d just offered her a box of diamonds.

His chest tightened. This was what he wanted. The chance to make her happy, to see her eyes light up, to share little moments like this with her for the rest of their days. “I don’t see why not.” He wanted to touch her, to clasp her hand or stroke her cheek, but he settled for holding her gaze, not wanting to jeopardize the fragile closeness blooming between them. “Go ahead,” he urged, his voice almost a whisper. “Name her.”

She turned back toward the foal, its spindly legs braced wide as the pair halted and the filly stretched her neck up to nuzzle her mama’s face.

“Jennie.” Rosalind’s soft voice filtered through the air like a child’s prayer. “My mother’s name.” She dipped her head and stared down at her feet. “She died when I was eleven. Childbed fever.”

Empathy rose inside him. “I’m sorry. I lost my father last year. Influenza. It was hard to watch him fade. He’d always been so strong. Indomitable, really.” A smile tugged Caleb’s mouth as he recalled the man he’d respected more than any other. “He built this place up from a spread of thirty head to one of thirty thousand. I didn’t think anything could take him down, but I guess death conquers all of us eventually.”

Rosalind finally unclenched her hands and reached out to touch his arm. “My father was a self-made man too. A baker with his own shop. He passed when I was seventeen. Heart failure.” She paused, her hand slipping away from his arm. “He was never particularly kind to my sister or me—he always wished he’d had a son instead of daughters—but he wasn’t cruel. And he softened toward the end. I’m not sure Abby ever saw that side of him. She was so busy running the bakery and keeping the business afloat. But I noticed the change as I tended him during his illness. I’d sit with him for hours. Reading to him, feeding him, making sure he was comfortable. And he’d tell me stories. Stories of how he met my mother, how much he’d loved her, how he missed her. He saw her in me, he’d say. My looks. My personality. Abby took after him—driven and determined. It was probably why they butted heads so often. But I was more like his beloved Jennie, content to let others lead while I nurtured from the sidelines.”

Caleb could hear her love for her father in her voice. The loss that still impacted her heart. Saying good-bye to his father was the hardest thing he’d ever done, but he’d been a grown man out of school and well on his way to establishing his own path in life when he’d been faced with that task. He couldn’t imagine losing both parents at such a tender age.

“Is losing your father what led you to become a Harvey Girl?” he asked.

She kicked at a clump of grass with her shoe, not meeting his gaze. “In a roundabout way, I suppose. My sister and her husband would have preferred that I stay with them, but once I knew Abby would be well taken care of, I chose to leave. To find my own way in the world and see new places. Fred Harvey allowed me to do that.”

His gut told him there was more to the story, but he wasn’t going to press for answers. Not yet. He’d learned more about her past in the last fifteen minutes than he had in the last five weeks. Yet while he was willing to forgo the mysteries of her past, the direction of her future was a different matter entirely.

“Are you still set on transferring to California?” He shifted his stance until he stood directly in front of her, then gave in to the desire to touch her and lightly traced the outline of her face with his finger, diverting over her left ear to tuck away a tendril of hair that the breeze had tugged free.

Her blue eyes widened as his finger skimmed along her jawline and paused beneath her chin. “M-maybe.”

Her uncertainty fell on his ears like the finest Mozart sonata.

“I think you should consider staying in Gainesville.” His finger fell away from her chin as he fit his palm to the side of her neck and curled his fingers around her nape. “With me.”

A breathless sound escaped her lips, parting them ever so slightly. He tugged her face close, his mouth hovering inches above hers. But he couldn’t kiss her. Not yet. Not until he pled his case with the most compelling testimony at his disposal.

Lifting his gaze from her mouth to her eyes, he opened his heart to her with a prayer that this jury of one would find in his favor.

“I’m in love with you, Rosalind, and I want to spend the rest of my days at your side.”