Heather by Caroline Fyffe

Author:Caroline Fyffe
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Historical Romance, Historical, Westerns, Romance, Victorian, Western, Inspirational, The McCutcheon Family Series, Literature & Fiction
ISBN: 9780989702522
Publisher: Caroline Fyffe
Published: 2013-12-18T10:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

THE NEXT EVENING ARRIVED without fanfare. The chill of the twilight settled over the land as Hayden’s buckboard rolled down Main Street. Before giving himself a chance to chicken out, he reined the horses to a stop in front of Drit and Lou’s boardinghouse and pushed on the brake. As he hopped out, he glanced quickly up and down the street. Y Knot was quiet. Most people had gone in for supper.

On the porch, he stopped. Removed his hat. Should he knock? He’d never knocked before. This was a boardinghouse. People just walked in and out. But this felt different. Heather was in there. He lifted his hand to knock, then thought better of it. Opening the door, he stepped inside.

Heather was setting the table. A look of astonishment crossed her face as she recognized him. Sadness made his chest ache. He’d seen her like this in his own kitchen, setting the table, mixing the gravy until there were no lumps. And tending to his family—people she’d just met—as if they were her own kin.

As in a dream, he crossed the floor without conscious awareness. Suddenly he was in front of her. “Heather.” The memory of Roady and the others last night in the bar tried to intrude.

She waited. Darted a nervous look at the door.

“I wondered if you’d like to take a ride out to Chance and Evie’s with me. I have the lumber for their henhouse. Have had it since the day before the accident but haven’t had a chance to deliver it. Evie’s anxious to get the coop built and get some chickens. Thought you might like…”

He was babbling. Why the heck had he stopped here? She didn’t want to go with him. He shrugged and closed his mouth, deciding not to say another word until she gave him his answer.

“Tonight? Right now?” She glanced at the table and then to the forks she held in her hand.

Lou came through the door, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. The front of her apron was damp and spotted. “Well, Hayden, hello. What can we do for you?” she asked, looking between them. “Supper’s almost on. Would you like to join us? We have plenty.”

Something about this whole situation made him feel ten years old, with his first crush. “No, thank you, Lou. I came to see if Heather would like to ride out with me to deliver some lumber to the Holcomb Ranch. It’s a nice evening.”

Damn. His face must be three shades of red. Some man came down the hall playing on a beat-up old mandolin. He stopped when he saw Hayden, a curious look on his face.

“Well, what do you say?” he said dryly. Then looked around. He was ready to give up on this whole thing and bolt for the door.

A smile broke out on Lou’s face. “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Hayden. Heather has been working her little fingers to the knucklebone.” Lou hurried over and took the forks from Heather’s hands. Some womanly look passed between the two, but he didn’t know what it meant.

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