Rocky Mountain Proposal
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Pulling one overly large floppy glove off, the long-limbed man reached out to shake her hand. His razorlike Adam’s apple bobbed so severely she thought it likely to cut straight through his throat. “Name’s Pete. Pete O’Leary.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. O’Leary.” She shook his hand, struggling to school her expression against the way his sweaty palm clamped against hers.
“If’n you ever need anything. You jest give me a holler.”
She smiled, though not enough so as to encourage the man in any way. “Thank you for your kindness, but I’m sure I’ll be just fine.”
“I heard that he went and left his farm to you. And that you was to be married. Is that the truth?” he inquired with as much candidness as Hope imagined possible.
Just then a weasellike animal poked its head out from a pack strapped to the man’s back. “All right, Conroy. You seen the perty lady. Now you get yerself back in there, ya hear?” Mr. O’Leary reached over his shoulder and gave the animal’s head a gentle pat. “Conroy’s my ferret. Bought him off’un a travelin’ salesman.”
“He’s a fine-looking ferret,” she commented as the adorable animal wiggled his long-whiskered nose at her and then dived into the sturdy denim pack.
“He goes with me most places—cept’n fer church. Though, Lord knows that bein’ there’d do his thievin’ soul some good.” Mr. O’Leary leaned a gangly arm on the shovel handle and sighed as the ferret rebelliously popped up again, perching his front paws on the man’s rail-thin shoulder. “The critter can’t seem to keep his dishonest paws from takin’ that which ain’t his.”
The earnest show of the man’s distress and the delightful look of innocence on the ferret’s whiskered face coaxed a smile from Hope. She was grateful for the diversion so that she didn’t have to field the man’s inquiries. “With a face like that, how could he possibly mean to be ill-behaved?”
“That’s what I been tellin’ myself, but after a while a body’s gotta wonder.” He shrugged out of the pack and folded his legs beneath him, then tucked the long, lean ferret back inside. “This is not social hour at the opera house.” Jane’s terse voice sounded at Hope’s ear.
Hope turned just in time to see Jane’s cutting glare swing from her to the undertaker then back again, but she refused to cower in response.
“Stop your fraternizing and come along. Can’t you see that we’re waiting for you?” Pivoting, the woman stalked down the trail toward the wagons, not even bothering to give Mr. O’Leary an appreciative look for his labor and not thinking enough to pass one last look at her brother’s grave.
“Thank you for your hard work, Mr. O’Leary.” Hope peered up at the man, deciding that although he was a little rough around the edges he seemed harmless enough.
“Glad to do it.” He looped his arms into his pack and tugged his shovel out of the dirt. “It’s my job.”
Turning, Hope made her way down the trail. She caught Aaron’s gaze fixed on her as if he’d been watching for a long while. Had he sent Jane up to get her? He’d seemed completely oblivious to the woman’s spiteful ways.
When she’d almost reached the cluster of mourners, Aaron came to meet her and guided her toward his wagon. My family, as well as a few others, will be coming over in a little while with plenty of fixings for a meal. I hope you don’t mind the lot of us barging in on you, but this is how we do it here in Boulder.”
“That’s perfectly fine.” She managed a dim smile as she maneuvered through the tall grass. “As soon as we get there, I’ll do what I can to get things prepared.”
He shook his head. “You won’t be doing anything, Hope. That’s what the others will be there for.” He came to a stop and stared down at her as if to enforce his point.
“Until the past twenty hours, these people had no idea that I existed. To be counted among family now,” she reasoned, thinking about how Jane clearly viewed her as an outsider, “is a bit uncomfortable.” And to have Aaron telling her what to do settled over her with equal unpleasantness. Besides, she would rather busy herself than to field the questions she was sure would come her way—just like with Mr. O’Leary.
How did you and Paul meet? How long had you corresponded? When were you to wed? And most inevitably, why had Paul not told us about you?
“Paul obviously didn’t view you as an outsider,” Aaron argued.
“Please. It’s not that I don’t appreciate your consideration—” she tugged on the strong thread of gracious manners that had been woven into her from the time she was young “—but I would feel better if I could be helping.”
For a long moment, Aaron peered down at her as though taking her full measure. Yesterday she’d refused his apathetic proposal of marriage. Honorable, though it may be, seeing as how this man considered it his job to make decisions for her, declining his hand was a very wise decision—just like breaking off her engagement with Jonas had been.
“Aaron,” Ben called, motioning him to the other side of the grassy knoll, “Jane’s going to need your help here.”
Hope followed in Aaron’s wake, lifting the skirts of her cobalt-blue dress as she picked her way around the tender spring flowers that had poked through the soil. She hadn’t dreamed she’d need traditional mourning attire upon her arrival, and her lack of it only seemed to irritate Jane further. Paul’s sister had scanned her up and down not once but several times today, as though to make some silent barbed statement.
“She says she’s feeling pretty weak,” Ben commented, his voice low and measured. When he slid a cautious gaze to Hope, she couldn’t miss the hint of apology there.
“Oh, I am, Aaron. Very weak. I’m so glad you’re here.” Jane’s breathy whisper filtered to Hope. The woman threw herself into Aaron’s arms—almost.
When he sidestepped to gain his balance, Hope stifled a gasp. But she could hardly fault the woman for being given to exceptional outbursts of emotion after suffering such shock.
“You are a great strength to me. I’m sure that Paul would offer his gratitude if he was—” Jane’s eyes suddenly pooled with fresh tears. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Aaron. Honestly, you are meant for me.”
He passed a disconcerted glance to Ben, his throat convulsing as though he’d just swallowed a small horse. He stared down at where Jane had circled her arms around his chest and burrowed her cheek into his dark gray vest. “Well, I, uh…I’m glad to help.”
“Thank you,” Jane whispered, one side of her thin lips lifting in what looked to Hope like a triumphant grin.
Clearing his throat, Aaron pried her arms loose and took one sizable step away from her. “Don’t you think we should probably go since the others will be coming soon?”
“Yes, of course. You’re right, as always, Aaron.” The way Jane latched onto Aaron and led the way, Hope half wondered if she was making a silent claim. The icy look she sent Hope could’ve frozen one of the yellow spring blooms dotting the grassy knoll within seconds and furthered her suspicion.
“We’ll be right behind you to help with the meal, Hope. Don’t you worry about a thing,” Ben’s wife, Callie, called as she took her husband’s hand and climbed into their wagon.
Hope waved and trailed behind Jane and Aaron, watching as Jane nearly sprinted the last few feet to claim a seat at the front of the wagon, not even bothering to wait for assistance.
“You’ll have to sit in the back again, Hope. There’s just not room up here. You won’t mind, will you?” She gave Hope a sickeningly sweet look, her face all pinched in apology as she took great care spreading out her skirts as though decorating an elaborate layered cake.
Hope struggled to prevent her disbelief from making its way to an all-out expression. “Of course, I don’t mind.”
With a firm but gentle touch, Aaron easily lifted her into the wagon and then took his own seat next to Jane. When Jane clasped a possessive hand over Aaron’s muscular arm, Hope determined that Paul’s sister was definitely marking her territory. As far as Hope was concerned, Jane could have the man. But being a woman of principle, the fact that Jane was being so nasty about the whole thing just didn’t sit right.
Once Aaron had the wagon headed down the road, he glanced at her with a concern-filled look. “Are you sure you don’t mind all of us coming to your house for a gather—”
“Paul’s house,” Jane corrected darting her attention to Aaron then back at Hope. “It’s Paul’s house.”
Hope determined to find some common ground on which to stand with Jane if this day was going to be anything more than horrible. “I’m sure that Paul would’ve wanted it that way.”
Jane twisted in her seat. “Excuse me for saying so, but honestly, how would you know what Paul would’ve wanted?” She narrowed her hazel-eyed gaze and pursed her thin lips, making them nearly disappear. “You never even met him.”
“I—I just thought that Paul, being as kind-hearted and giving as he was—”
“Yes he was, wasn’t he? So generous that he gave you his estate.”
“Jane,” Aaron admonished.
“It’s all right, Aaron,” Hope placated. “She’s had a very difficult day.”
Jane’s shrewd expression suddenly turned sorrowful just like that. “Oh, I’m just so beside myself with grief. My dear, dear brother Paul…dead,” she sobbed, hugging her arms to her chest and dabbing at her eyes.
Surely, this woman couldn’t be so shallow as to exercise such pettiness—especially at a time like this. Hope would love to give her the benefit of the doubt, but she’d deny her own intelligence in doing so. Instead, Hope reminded herself that she was irrevocably connected to this woman, and although she couldn’t help feeling incredulous at Jane’s flagrant show of melodramatics, she must be as gracious as humanly possible.
Aaron gave Jane’s arm a brief squeeze, bringing a peculiar stop to the lamenting. “Why don’t you decide where you think we should have the gathering? How does that sound?”
Jane sniffled. Dabbed at her eyes. Hiccupped. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
After several moments of silence, the woman sniffled once again as if for good measure. She stared up at Aaron, her shapeless loglike eyebrows bunched inward. “I know my brother better than anyone. Why don’t we all gather at Paul’s home?” she announced, as though the idea was brand new. “I’m sure he would have wanted it that way.”
Hope nearly bit clear through her tongue. She couldn’t imagine how a woman could be so petty—especially at a time like this. Determined to stay strong, she silently conceded that Paul’s sister would be no help at all. Hope was in this alone.
Chapter Five
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.