Rose: Christmas Quilt Brides book 11 by Carroll-Bradd Linda

Author:Carroll-Bradd, Linda
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Inked Figments
Published: 2023-11-24T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

On the ride home, Berrin kept thinking of what he learned that afternoon. After spending pleasant hours in her company during the storm, he now had to reevaluate what he’d started feeling. Rose was part of the MacEwen family…now his employer…and from a quite different social status. Someone growing up with such comfortable furnishings would expect to have that lifestyle continue. He told himself he would finish the job, install the parts, and forget the woman.

Back at his shop, he still had three hours of work time. In the middle of adding curves to the fence tops, Berrin missed Rose’s humming. The air smelled of hot metal and burning coal, not sweet jasmine. He glanced at the empty stool more than once before closing the shop for the evening. By the second day after the storm, he was back to focusing totally on his work. Then he heard crunching on the shells.

Three knocks rapped on the wooden planks.

Who knocks on the door of any service business? “Walk inside.” Berrin set his sledge on the anvil and glanced to the side.

A well-dressed older man stepped into the shop. “Mister Harriman?”

“Yeah. How can I help you?”

“I’m not here to order your services. My name is Carstairs, sir. Miss Rose asked me to deliver this.” He reached into his jacket pocket and removed an envelope. He stepped deeper into the shop and extended his hand.

Hearing her name shot awareness through him, and he moved to accept the envelope. Who was he fooling to imagine the auburn-haired woman hadn’t been right there at the edge of his thoughts? “Appreciate it.” He ran a thumb over his name written in fancy script on the front—the likes of which he hadn’t seen in years.

“I’ve been instructed to wait until you open and read it.”

Turning it over, he broke the wax seal that displayed a spool of thread and eased out a folded card of thick parchment. A raised M decorated the center of the card. Inside, the same fancy lettering relayed an invitation to the MacEwen Mines’ end-of-the-year party at the Centennial Hotel on Friday, the twelfth. His first inclination was not to attend. What could be gained by putting himself in the company of this family in other than business dealings? He’d seen with his own eyes that he could never provide for Rose in the same manner. Once he finished the pulleys and installed them, he could limit his contact to Innes and Hume at the mine office. He looked up and met the older man’s gaze. “I’ve read it.”

“Have you read the entire note, sir?”

Berrin glanced down again, skimming his gaze over the lettering. In the lower corner, his right thumb partially obscured tiny lettering. He tilted the card to allow the forge fire’s glow to wash the note in stronger light. Please come. And a drawing of a rosebud. A personal request…from Rose. Two words. Could they have been written with as much yearning as he felt when he read them? He stared at the small letters and felt their draw.

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