The dining room was extra busy the following week, but Grace didn’t mind. The busier they were, the more likely she could be promoted from serving beverages to full waitress, and that would surely mean another small raise in her wages.
At night, Lily could talk of nothing but the Lombard party. Emma and Grace listened patiently as she chattered on about who might be there, naming some of the wealthy ranchers and businessmen who often had their dinners at the hotel.
“You are being unkind to Jake,” Emma noted one night as she repaired a snag in her stockings.
“Jake and I are just buddies—friends,” Lily proclaimed. “We’ve talked, and he knows I could never feel that way about him. He’s a nice guy but…”
Emma bit off a thread and examined her handiwork. “That man is head over heels in love with you, Lily, and you know it. Is it so impossible to imagine a day when the two of you might find a way to be together?”
When Lily didn’t come back with her usual snappy comment, Grace looked up from the letter she was writing and was surprised to see Lily’s chin tremble as she bit her lower lip. Grace set her pencil and paper aside and stretched out a comforting hand. “Lily, what is it?”
“I can’t be with Jake,” she blubbered. “The truth is I can’t be with anyone.”
Grace and Emma glanced at each other and then focused on Lily. “Why?” Emma asked, laying her handwork aside.
Lily tugged at a loose curl of hair. She was not looking at them. “I’m married,” she whispered, and the floodgates opened as she threw herself down on her bed, covering her face with her pillow.
Grace looked at Emma, who sat frozen and open-mouthed, her eyes pinned on Lily. “Married?” she finally managed in a whisper.
Lily let out a fresh wail that Grace took to be affirmative. She tried to find her way through the thoughts rocketing like fireworks through her brain. “But you can’t be. I mean, we aren’t permitted.”
Lily sat up, throwing the pillow aside. “I lied, Grace. No one knows.”
“But then where is your husband?” Emma placed her fist against her lips as a fresh thought came to her. “Oh, Lily, tell me there are no children.”
“There are no children,” Lily confirmed. “He didn’t stay long enough for that.”
“How did you meet?” Grace’s question might have been inane, but there were so many missing pieces to what Lily had just shared. Perhaps starting at the beginning might make sense of it all.
Lily sniffed back a sob. “It was before you and I met, Emma. Before I knew there was such a thing as a Harvey Girl, I was down on my luck. I’d been let go from the job at Marshall Field’s, and I was barely getting by. I was cleaning rooms at a hotel, thinking of taking a job in a saloon as one of the dancehall girls, when suddenly, there he was. He was a guest, a businessman, always immaculately groomed and well-dressed. One day, the bellboy handed me a note. It was from him, inviting me to meet him for dinner.”
“You didn’t?” Emma was clearly shocked.
“Obviously, I did,” Lily admitted. “I mean, if you had seen the man, all charm and perfect manners, you would have gone as well. Yes, even you, Emma Elliott.”
“I don’t understand. You had dinner, but how did you end up married?” Grace felt an actual chill.
Lily sighed. “We met every night, and it wasn’t like what you might be thinking. He took me to a concert and bought me presents, sent me flowers. Oh, there was kissing, and after a couple of nights, things got pretty heavy between us, if you get my meaning. But when he wanted to…you know, I refused.”
“Good.” Emma seemed to breathe for the first time since Lily’s stunning announcement.
“I told him the only way that would ever happen would be if we were properly married.” Her tone was defiant, and then her expression changed to one of disbelief. “The next night, we met as usual, and he took me straight to a justice of the peace, put a ring on my finger, said the words, and called my bluff.”
“So you spent the night with him?” Emma was aghast.
“We were married,” Lily replied, stressing each word. “We are married—at least as far as I know. Nothing really happened. I mean, we were naked and all, but he’d had so much to drink that he fell asleep before—”
“Where is he now?” Grace asked.
Lily shrugged. “Don’t know and don’t care. The morning after our so-called wedding night, I awoke to a note on the pillow next to me, claiming he had business back east and would be in touch. That was three years ago, and I’ve not seen hide nor hair of him since.” She started to cry again, softly this time, the tears dropping unnoticed onto the pillow she clutched.
“But, Lily, if you never consummated the union, you can get an annulment,” Emma protested. “He’s not worth your tears, Lily, and he certainly does not deserve to ruin your life.”
“So your answer is that I should seek an annulment,” Lily fumed as she stomped around the room. “Brand myself forever with that? I did nothing wrong. When does he face the music? When does he have to endure finger pointing and whispers and gossip?”
She was right, Grace thought. It was Lily who would pay the price of her mistake in trusting this man.
With a long shuddering breath, Lily pulled herself together. Calmly, she turned to face them. “So now you understand why I can never be with Jake…or anyone else. All I have are my fantasies, girls, so please, could we just not talk about something for which there is no solution and allow me to enjoy what might have been?”
What could they say? They were her friends, so they would do what Lily asked. “But the man is not worth it,” Emma muttered.
Later, after the three of them had said their good nights and settled under the covers of their own beds, Grace lay awake staring at the blackness surrounding her. She thought about Nick and the way he had kissed her. Was he like Lily’s husband? Did he think he could simply take what he wanted when he wanted it? No, she decided, it wasn’t the same thing at all. Nick was nothing like the horrible man who had wronged her friend. He was a gentleman. And yet when Nick had walked her to the door of the hotel following their outing, he had said something about wanting to see her again but without all the chaperones.
She took that to mean he wanted to be alone with her, and when they were alone, past experience showed he would want to kiss her. She could not deny she wanted that as well. But what if he wanted more, like Lily’s husband had wanted from her? She imagined Nick opening the collar of her dress, touching her exposed throat, kissing her there—and other places. She squirmed in the bed, trying to relieve the strange and oddly thrilling ache that spread from between her thighs up through her body.
“Grace!”
Emma getting out of her own bed and shaking Grace’s shoulder brought her fully awake. “What?”
“Lie still or get up,” Emma whispered. “It’s like sleeping in a room with a whirling dervish!”
“Sorry,” Grace muttered and turned onto her side, forcing herself to remain perfectly still until she was sure Emma was asleep. Then she slipped out of bed, found paper and pencil, and curled up on the floor near the window. Working with the light from the street, she started a letter to her mother.
Dear Mama,
I want to tell you about a wonderful man I’ve met. He has the kindest eyes and the most winning smile, and when he touches my hand, it feels like we were meant to be together.
She paused, chewing on the end of the pencil. She realized what she really wanted to tell her folks was that with each passing day, she was less and less sure that she wanted to return to the farm. It felt as if her life was in Juniper now. She loved her family dearly, but what would she do in Missouri? By now, someone else had taken the teaching position, and when she thought about marrying and settling down, it was Nick she saw herself with. That might not work out, of course. But if she went back to the farm, it never could. She folded the letter into quarters, crept back to her bed, and placed the letter in the box that held the picture of her parents and the ribbon from the box of chocolates Nick had sent her.
* * *
Grace had never been to such a grand party as the one the Lombards hosted. The large house and courtyard were alive with the wavering flames of dozens of candles. A quartet of musicians played classical selections in the front parlor, while in the courtyard, a trio provided livelier music for those wishing to dance. The food rivaled anything Grace had ever seen, even at the hotel. The guests were all dressed in costume, the upper halves of their faces covered with masks. Grace moved among the clusters of guests with a silver tray filled with crystal glasses of sparkling cider. In spite of her determination not to, she caught herself searching the crowd for Nick. She had already recognized one of the men who’d taken them on the trip to the falls weeks earlier, but she did not see Nick.
She focused on the younger women, many of them single. After all, Nick and his men had been given the assignment of dancing with the unaccompanied young ladies.
And then she saw him—or rather the back of him, his broad shoulders accented by a white shirt covered with a black leather vest, the unmistakable way his hair curled just slightly over the shirt collar. Her tray tipped dangerously, but she recovered as she recalled the feeling of her fingers entwined in that thick hair when he’d kissed her. He turned with his partner, gazing down at the woman in his arms, and Grace saw that he wore a black half mask that made his smile even more appealing.
“Just doing his job,” Lily whispered with a nod toward the dance floor. She passed Grace and moved on to serve a gathering of businessmen engrossed in conversation on the veranda.
And I should get on with mine, Grace thought. She smiled brightly and offered cider to two women about her age who were watching the dancing. They each accepted a glass, and as Grace moved on, she heard one whisper, “Who is he?”
“I have no idea,” her friend replied, “but I wouldn’t kick that one out of my bed, believe me.” The two giggled as they edged closer to the dance floor, no doubt for a better look.
Grace was tempted to tell them that Nick Hopkins was simply doing his job, and if there was anyone at this party he would think of taking to bed, it would surely be her, not them.
“Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing.” The man blocking her way was her father’s age and obviously drunk. “How about a dance, little lady?”
Blessedly, that was the moment the tune ended. Grace smiled politely. “I’m so sorry, sir, but I’m part of the staff.” She held up the tray to prove her point.
To her surprise, the man relieved her of the tray and placed his broad hand flat against her back, guiding her to the dance floor. “I said I want to dance, missy,” he muttered and motioned to the musicians to strike up a tune. He pulled her tight against his barrel chest, and his cheek resting against her temple was wet with perspiration. She tried to put distance between them as he moved her awkwardly into a waltz, but any attempt in that direction seemed only to fuel his determination to hold her as close as possible. “Do you know who I am?”
She tried to smile. “You’re wearing a mask, sir, but—”
“I am Jasper Perkins, and I have more money than you’ll ever see, girlie, so count your blessings I chose you tonight.”
“It’s my pleasure to dance with you, sir…”
His laugh was too loud and made him slobber slightly. “This ain’t about dancing. This is about you meeting me later. Top of the stairs, end of the hall. I’ll be waitin’.”
Grace was sure she was going to be sick. And then Mr. Lombard was there, his hand on Mr. Perkins’s shoulder. “Jasper, there you are. We need you for the card game.” He was smiling, but Grace noticed his eyes were cold as ice. “My foreman will finish the dance for you. Come along.” He led the man away.
Grace turned to bolt from the dance floor and found herself facing Nick instead. He held out his arms to her. “Shall we?” he asked.
“I have to—”
“Don’t run, Grace. Never run. Hold your head up. Smile. That’s my girl.”
He spun her to the music as others who had witnessed the scene settled back into the rhythm of the dance. And in his arms, she felt safe, but she resisted the inclination to rest her cheek against his chest. The tune ended, and the dancers dispersed. Jake, who had wrangled a position on the serving staff, picked up the silver tray Perkins had disposed of so unceremoniously.
“You okay, Grace?” he asked.
She nodded, swallowing the bile that burned in her throat and forcing a smile. Mrs. Lombard threaded her way through the guests. Grace was sure she was about to be dismissed for the evening.
“My dear,” Mrs. Lombard said, taking Grace’s hand between both of hers. “Please accept my apologies. Jasper is—well, aside from being my brother-in-law, he is an ass, pardon my language.” She turned to Nick. “Please see that this young lady gets some air, Nick, and a chance to recover her nerves.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Nick took hold of Grace’s elbow. “Come on. Let’s start by getting you some of that fruit punch.”
“I’m fine,” she protested.
He grinned. “Sorry. Boss lady gave me orders, Grace.”
The punch helped. Nick even joined her, and it occurred to Grace that they must look like two more guests enjoying the party. They each wore a mask, and although she was dressed in the garb of a lady-in-waiting, it was no less a costume than that of those women who were clothed as princesses or fairies. The two young women who had been watching Nick dance stared at her standing so close to him, their mouths open in surprise. She resisted the temptation to raise her punch cup in a toast to them.
“Now we walk,” Nick said, once again taking hold of her arm and tucking it through the crook of his elbow.
“Walk where?”
“Away from here,” he replied.
Willingly, she followed him away from the throng of guests, away from the candlelight, away from the music and chatter. He led her past the corral and on toward the bunkhouse and a banco just outside the door. “Sit,” he instructed.
“You’re being very bossy for a man wearing a silly mask,” she noted, but she sat and removed her own mask.
He grinned. “I thought it might make me more mysterious—more appealing.”
“Well, you certainly caught the attention of at least two of the single young ladies at the party.”
He frowned and removed his mask, discarding it and running his fingers through his hair. “I hoped to appeal to you.”
“Why?”
He signed heavily but kept his gaze on the corral. “Look, you and me—well, we’ve each got plans for the future, and it seems to me they may not be plans that travel the same trail, and yet…”
“And yet?” She touched his hand.
“I like you, Grace Rogers. I like you a lot.”
She considered whether in this case honesty was indeed the best policy and decided it was. “I feel the same and have no earthly idea what to do about it.”
“I can think of one thing,” he said, leaning closer.
“Please don’t. Your men are likely to—”
“My men are either out tending the herd or up there at the house enjoying the party in spite of all their grousing.” He took her hands in his. “We’re quite alone here, Grace. We could kiss, and nobody would know.” He hesitated and then, to her surprise, pulled back. “Sorry. You’re probably thinking I’m no different from old man Perkins.”
She touched his chin, turning his face to hers. “You are nothing like that horrid man, Nick. You’ve been thoughtful and gentle, and you respect a lady even if she is only hired help.”
The music drifted faintly across the yard that stretched between them and the party. Nick stood. “Dance with me?”
“Why, sir, I would be delighted.” She stood and stepped into the circle of his outstretched arms—and this time she gave in to the urge to rest her cheek against his chest.
* * *
Nick had been looking for an opportunity to speak privately with Grace when the boss had come up next to him and pointed to the dance floor. “Jasper’s up to his usual tricks. I may need your help. He’s drunk, and that means things can get nasty. I won’t have him spoiling this night for Rita.”
And that was when Nick had spotted Grace. The boss’s brother-in-law had her clenched against his chest, and the expression on her face spoke of panic that bordered on fear. His boss led the way, but during the discussion that followed, Nick tightened his fists, only just holding on to his temper. Once John led the man away, it was all Nick could do to keep himself from wrapping his arms protectively around Grace and leading her from the dance floor. But that would not do. Not for her and not for Mrs. Lombard if guests began gossiping. So he did the only thing that seemed logical—he stepped in to finish the dance.
And now they were dancing once again, only this time as they swayed to the music, it was as if they moved as one. She pressed her cheek to his chest while he rested his chin against her soft hair. As the music came to an end, he spun her away and then back into his arms. Their faces were so close that a kiss seemed inevitable. She touched his cheek. He raised his hands to frame her face.
“You are a beautiful woman, Grace Rogers,” he said as he kissed her temple and then her closed eyelids.
She laughed nervously. “A woman who should get back to work.” She stepped away from him. “Thank you, Nick. I’m fine, truly. I’ll just—”
He caught hold of her hand. “Remember that piece of land I showed you last week?”
She nodded.
“I’ve been making payments every week, and well, one day…”
He saw that she was genuinely pleased for him, sharing his joy. He also saw that she didn’t understand why he was telling her this now. “I know we haven’t known each other that long, but out here, things tend to be different than maybe they are where you come from.”
“Different how?”
“I don’t know. I’m not much good at words. I guess what I mean is folks out here tend to take action quicker than they might in places where things are more established, more certain.” She was no longer trying to move away from him, and he took that as a good sign. “See, Grace, like I told you, I have this dream of owning my own spread. And along with that come other things—important things.”
“Such as?”
“A wife. Kids. A family.” He barely managed to get the words out. “Look, Grace, I know up to now, maybe we’ve been headed down different paths, but lately, I’ve been thinking. I mean, do you think you might consider us walking together? Maybe not right away but some day. I mean, once I’ve cleared the land and built a cabin and gotten a start on a herd and you’ve put together the money your pa needs… What I’m trying to say is, could you see yourself thinking about sharing that with me someday, Grace?”
They were linked only by his hand holding hers, but the spark that connected them as they stood facing each other was undeniable. She bowed her head. “Nick, I not only have responsibilities to my family, but also an obligation to the Harvey Company.”
“But someday?”
She looked at their joined hands. He held his breath. “Yes. Someday,” she agreed. She looked up at him and smiled. “And now I must go. Lily and Emma will be frantic.”
“All right, but first, let’s seal the bargain.” He stepped closer. “Someday?”
She offered him her handshake.
He chuckled as he pulled her close. “Afraid a simple handshake won’t do, Grace.”
She took a half step and touched his face. “We could seal our bargain with a kiss,” she suggested.
He kissed her, tentatively at first, not wanting to do anything that might remind her of the encounter with Perkins. But when she wound her fingers through the thickness of his hair at the nape of his neck, he deepened the kiss.
The soft roundness of her breasts pressed against the hard muscles of his chest. He heard the sound she made signaling pleasure when he traced her lips with his tongue. His desire hardened into something far too dangerous to unleash at a time and place like this. But someday…one day.
He broke the kiss but not his hold on her.
“I have to go,” she whispered.
“I know. Tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
He understood neither of them knew what they were agreeing to in that exchange. “And the day after that?” he called as she headed back toward the party.
“Yes,” she replied.
“And the day—”
“Yes, yes, and yes,” she shouted, and he heard her laughter blending with the music.
* * *
As she worked the rest of the party, Grace could not seem to stop smiling. Nothing bothered her—not having to mop up a spilled drink or having to console a lost child until her mother could be found in the throng of guests. She wondered if this could be love. She had never been in love before. Certainly, what she’d shared with Buford could not be called love, but what she felt for Nick was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. It made her deliriously happy, and at the same time, it drove her to distraction. How could things ever work out between them?
She had four months to go on her contract, and even sending her parents every penny she could save, it might still not be enough. If she married Nick, there would be no money to send home, because there would be no job. And with Nick, there would be a whole new set of struggles—challenges that might be more than what they felt for each other now could survive. Then what?
“Ready?”
She hadn’t heard Emma come alongside her. “Yes. Let’s go.”
Aidan had sent a wagon to drive them all back to the hotel. “I should have warned you girls about Jasper Perkins,” Jake said once they were on their way. “He didn’t…do anything, did he, Grace?”
So they had all seen her on the dance floor. “No. And Mr. and Mrs. Lombard were very kind and apologetic.”
“Still, you should watch yourself around him,” Jake warned. “He’s not likely to forget once he sets his sights on you.”
“He was quite drunk. I doubt he’ll remember,” Grace replied, anxious to close the conversation.
“He’ll remember,” Jake muttered. “Just watch yourself, okay?”
His warning was unsettling but not such that it could do anything to overshadow the memory of Nick’s proposal of someday and the dance they had shared—and most especially the kiss. Grace settled back against the rough side of the wagon and smiled. Yes, what she felt for Nick Hopkins had to be love.
Later, when she told Emma and Lily what had happened with Nick, she did not exactly get the reaction she’d hoped for. Instead of being delighted for her, both of them seemed to be taken aback.
“But you need to be careful,” Emma exclaimed. “I mean, things have already developed so quickly between the two of you, and kisses can—”
“What we’re trying to tell you, my innocent friend,” Lily interrupted, “is that soon—very soon—kisses won’t be enough for him—or you, given the fact that you’re obviously head over knickers for the guy. Kissing leads to touching leads to undressing leads to—”
“All right,” Grace cried. “I’m not as innocent as you may believe. I did grow up on a farm, after all. Why can’t you just be happy for me? I thought you both liked Nick.”
“Oh, honey, we are—we do,” Lily assured her. “It’s just that—”
A knock at the door stopped her from finishing her thought.
“Come in,” Lily called.
To their surprise, Miss Kaufmann opened the door. “How was the party?” she asked.
“It was lovely,” Emma assured her. “Thank you for giving us the opportunity to be there.”
Miss Kaufmann smiled. She pulled an envelope from the pocket of her apron and handed it to Grace. “This came for you today. Time for bed, girls,” she added as she left, closing the door behind her.
The letter was from her mother. Grace tore the envelope open and scanned the first page. “They did get the money I sent after all,” she shouted before reading on. “And it was enough to buy new work boots for my brothers and feed for the livestock,” she added, her voice rising with excitement. Lily and Emma joined her on her bed and leaned in over her shoulder.
Early on, Grace had realized that neither Lily nor Emma seemed to get mail, so she had begun sharing her mother’s letters with them. Now they knew her siblings by name and age and were always anxious for news of their latest adventures. Grace’s mother always asked after her friends, and it pleased her that her real family and the people she’d come to think of as family had a connection.
She had never written anything about Nick or even mentioned him by name. Lily had teased her about that. Tonight, she was glad her mother knew nothing of Nick. It would be hard to explain who he was and what he meant to her, when she wasn’t sure she understood herself. Once she’d settled into her job at the hotel, she’d begun to see a plan for her future that went beyond just helping her family financially. But lately, she found herself planning a life right here in New Mexico—a life that included her friends and maybe even a future with Nick.
* * *
Miles away, Nick lay awake, his arms folded behind his head. He imagined he could still feel Grace’s touch, smell the clean, pure scent of her, taste her kiss lingering on his lips.
John Lombard had suggested Nick start working on clearing and fencing his land in the spare time he would have over the winter. The ranch would not get busy again until calving time in the spring. Oh, there would be things to do—rounding up strays wandering off in the snow, mending fences, the usual chores. But there would be time enough to maybe get a start on a cabin. He pictured something with a loft and room for a kitchen garden, somewhere to hang clothes to dry in the sun. But mostly, he pictured Grace in the kitchen or sitting with him by the fire or out in the courtyard—or lying in their bed.
He swallowed a groan. His physical desire for her had become something that occupied his thoughts night and day. He wondered if it was the same for a woman. Did she want him? Did she think about lying with him as much as he did her?
In the bunk next to him, Slim snored loudly, something Nick and the other men had grown used to sleeping through. But not tonight. Tonight, every little movement or sound seemed magnified. Finally, Nick gave up, stood, pulled on his trousers, shook out his boots in case of a scorpion or other critter, tugged them on, and walked outside.
It was so quiet, as if the party had never happened. The sky was filled with stars. A horse whinnied. A night bird sang. Nick turned up the collar of his jacket, then closed his eyes, allowing the sounds of this land he loved so much to wash over him.
After a while, he walked up to the barn, lit a lantern, and pulled out a notebook he used to keep count of the Lombard herd. He turned to a clean page and began to sketch out the cabin he would build—the cabin perhaps one day, he would be able to share with Grace.