A Promise for Spring by Kim Vogel Sawyer

time—they were real good with rice.” The boy smacked his lips. “But mostly we eat mutton and pork and deer meat. Why?”
    She pointed to the crock bowl in the sink. “There was some sort of dark, flavorful meat in this bowl. I ate it for supper last night. I thought it was chicken.”
    Jim shook his head. “No, that was maw stew. You chop up the organs of a sheep—the heart, lungs, and liver—and cook them in the sheep’s stomach.”
    Emmaline’s stomach rolled. “The . . . the organs of a—”
    “Of a sheep,” Jim repeated, his cheerful voice a direct contrast to the vile feeling his words conjured. With a short laugh, he added, “We use every part of the sheep except the baa , Mr. Garrett says.”
    The room seemed to tilt. She clutched her belly.
    “Miss Emmaline, are you all right?” Jim grabbed her shoulders and held her upright.
    “Jim!”
    Jim released her so quickly she nearly fell. She grabbed the edge of the sink as Geoffrey came toward them, a fierce scowl on his face. He stopped beside Emmaline and grasped her elbow. “Is he bothering you?”
    She wrenched free, glaring up at him. He had let her eat the lungs of a sheep! She lowered her gaze slightly and her eyes collided with his chest. The top two buttons of his plaid shirt were unfastened, as if he were half dressed. Dark, curling hair peeped from the opening.
    She jerked her chin upward, drawing on fury to chase away the odd feelings that assailed her. “No, he is not bothering me. He is assisting me. He started a fire in the stove and then retrieved breakfast items since you did not advise me.”
    Geoffrey’s gaze dropped to the eggs and meat on the counter. He turned his attention to Jim. “I believe you have tasks to complete before breakfast. Miss Bradford will ring the bell when the food is ready to be served.”
    Jim scurried outside without a backward glance.
    Geoffrey wheeled on Emmaline. “Why were his hands on you?”
    “I . . . I felt sick. I thought about . . .” If she allowed herself to dwell on what she had consumed last night, she might embarrass herself by regurgitating on the kitchen floor. “It isn’t important. He was not doing anything improper.”
    Geoffrey stared at her in silence for several long seconds. Then he folded his arms over his chest and gave her a stern look. “Emmaline, I must ask that you not spend time alone with either of the hands. Chris is trustworthy, and Jim is still quite young, but they are men and susceptible to temptation.”
    “I did not deliberately set out to spend time alone with Jim.” Emmaline’s chest tightened as she defended herself, but she maintained an even tone. “He came to the kitchen and assisted in making the needed preparations to begin cooking breakfast.”
    Geoffrey’s stern expression did not soften. “All the same, kindly exercise caution in the future. It would not bode well for you to—”
    “To entice them? I assure you, that is not in my nature, and I resent your implication.”
    Geoffrey’s shoulders rose and fell with his great intake of breath. “I was not accusing you, Emmaline, but merely—”
    Emmaline picked up one egg and threw it forcefully into the sink. The shell shattered, the contents exploding against the enameled sides of the basin. “While residing here, I will by necessity come in contact with the ranch hands. If you are concerned about the situation, perhaps you should arrange different living accommodations for me.” She spun to leave but then turned back and added, “And kindly button your shirt in the presence of a lady!”
    Anger propelled her through the house to the sleeping room. Geoffrey called her name, but she ignored him and slammed the door behind her. She stared at the door. There was no lock. Would he enter uninvited?
    A knock sounded. “Emmaline?”
    Although he did not raise his voice, she recognized an undercurrent of frustration. She scuttled into the corner, refusing to answer.
    “Are you going to prepare our