Montana Snowfall by Caroline Fyffe

Author:Caroline Fyffe [Fyffe, Caroline]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical, Love Stories, romance, Western, Women's Fiction
ISBN: 9780986104725
Google: dNzkjgEACAAJ
Publisher: Caroline Fyffe
Published: 2015-03-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Three

Sally’s face heated painfully as she smiled back at Roady. The minute she, Heather, and Hayden had arrived at the mercantile, she’d secretly observed the crowd for his arrival. After forty-five minutes, her hope had begun to fade.

For the past twelve days she’d struggled with her options. Every time she decided it was best to tell Heather the truth, her insides froze up. Her sister had married into a beautiful family with wonderful in-laws…the perfect life. How could she spoil such a fairy tale for her—not to mention what her news would do to Morgan? Laying her problems in her siblings’ laps was the very last thing she wanted to do.

There was one other way. And he was standing before her right now. Last night, from midnight on, she’d tossed and turned until she’d come to a firm decision. She wouldn’t turn back now just because her stomach felt as if a billion red ants had set up house. She blinked once, taking in his dear face, more handsome than she remembered.

Roady shifted his weight. “As they say, a cowboy’s work is never done.”

Heather laughed, but the coal in Sally’s stomach fanned hot. She forced a smile, and the other men groaned at the silly joke.

“I think it’s a woman’s work that’s never done, Roady,” Heather teased back. “Surely, you’ve heard that before.”

He chuckled. “Now that you mention it, I guess—”

“Roady?” Trent Herrick said, interrupting the flow of conversation. He stuck out his hand and Roady grasped it. The thirtyish man had stayed by Sally’s side once they’d been introduced, trying to get her attention.

“Sure is, Trent. It’s good to see you back home in Y Knot. I’ve been meaning to come by and say hello, but—”

“The ranch work, yeah, I know. Until I find other work, I’m helping Pa out in the leather shop. Come by for a cup of coffee and sit a spell. It’s been years.”

The men’s conversation offered Sally the opportunity to look at Roady—really look—when he wasn’t looking at her. His hair appeared trimmed, and his pressed green shirt brought out the depth in his eyes. His strong, square jaw brought a flutter to her tummy, as did his expressive dark brows. A small hitch disturbed her breath when she thought back to the time spent in the mountain cabin alone, just the two of them, surrounded by snow.

The tall, good-looking cowboy named Shad Petty leaned into the circle and handed her a cup of punch. “You looked a mite thirsty, Miss Stanford. I’d be pleased if you’d give me the next dance.” He smiled shyly. “After you finish your cup of punch, of course.”

Sally took a small sip, wetting her throat. When her eyes met Roady’s over the rim, she flashed back to their ride down the mountain with her arms snugly round him and her head on his chest.

“Miss?”

“Sally?” Heather whispered, nudging Sally with her shoulder.

She had to give the cowboy credit. He’d been the only one in the group to muster the courage to ask her for a dance.

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