did before I became ill. I used to stay up late each night whenever I could, and never liked resting during the day. I used to be stronger, and a bit plumper, too.” Then she froze in embarrassment. Why had she added that last comment? She hoped it was dark enough so that Charles couldn’t see her expression.
He resumed brushing for a moment more and then set the brush down. “I’ve got a plate of food for you.” Then he froze, his expression embarrassed. “Not that I think you need to be plumper!”
Rose burst out laughing. She turned away, holding her stomach, as gales of mirth shook her. Charles came around to face her, smiling and looking relieved. She stopped laughing, struck by the sweetness in his smile. He reached up, hesitated, then ran his hand through her hair. She could hardly breathe, feeling his warm, large hand caress her hair. He held the back of her head, looking into her eyes. Then his eyes dropped to look at her mouth. She felt her heart beat faster and she was filled with anticipation. Then Rascal nudged his trough so that it banged against the barn wall. Charles blinked and took a deep breath, smiling into Rose’s eyes. He dropped his hand, and Rose felt simultaneously disappointed and relieved.
“You got food, you got water. Now settle down, you hooligan,” he said to Rascal.
“He just wants attention. Don’t you, you darling,” she said, smoothing the horse’s long forelock. “Let me just plait this here, Rascal, even if you are a boy. And a scamp at that. Would you like that? Oh, to have such long hair!”
“Yours is softer, though,” said Charles quietly, not looking at her while he put away the grooming supplies.
“Thank you, sir,” she said, startled.
He reached out and caught her hand, and she held on. They walked together into the house.
“It’s probably too dry. I tried to keep it warm,” said Charles, taking a plate from the stove and handing it to her.
“I don’t care,” she said. She bowed her head for a moment and then ate the stew quickly.
“You sure polished that plate,” he said admiringly.
“It’s all the fresh, California air,” she said. “It gives me such an appetite.”
He bit back a grin.
“What?” She looked up from her plate. “Oh, don’t you dare make me start laughing again!”
“It just reminded me…” He covered his mouth, trying to hide his grin.
“Yes, I know. You were reminded of my foolish comment in the barn regarding my former comparative plumpness in contrast to my current convalescing state of slenderness.” She couldn’t help laughing.
“I’m just glad you’re feeling well after our trip today,” he said, relief evident in his expression.
“I had a wonderful time. I love our home, and Cutler’s Pass, and all the kind people I have been meeting, and Rascal, and… and…” She stopped, flustered, looking down at the table. “And it’s finally so good to see a little more of this part of the world. I had read about redwoods, even seen some in a daguerreotype, but to actually stand in their presence? It was incredible.”
“We can go back, any time,” he said earnestly. “And don’t forget, I have another place I want to bring you soon. We could go next Saturday, if you’d like. There are so many beautiful spots around here.”
“I can’t wait,” she said, sitting back. “Well, my goodness. Looks as though I woke up just in time to turn around and go back to sleep.”
It was dark and very quiet except for the riotous string music of crickets and the soft bass of a moth thumping against the window, drawn by the glow of the kerosene lamp.
She stood to clear her place, and he got up, taking her plate. He held it, not turning to the sink, gazing down at her. She stilled, looking up at him. He took a quick breath and turned away.
“I’ll just wash these,” he said, his voice sounding somewhat strained.
Again, Rose felt simultaneously disappointed and relieved. “Good night.” She went to her
He resumed brushing for a moment more and then set the brush down. “I’ve got a plate of food for you.” Then he froze, his expression embarrassed. “Not that I think you need to be plumper!”
Rose burst out laughing. She turned away, holding her stomach, as gales of mirth shook her. Charles came around to face her, smiling and looking relieved. She stopped laughing, struck by the sweetness in his smile. He reached up, hesitated, then ran his hand through her hair. She could hardly breathe, feeling his warm, large hand caress her hair. He held the back of her head, looking into her eyes. Then his eyes dropped to look at her mouth. She felt her heart beat faster and she was filled with anticipation. Then Rascal nudged his trough so that it banged against the barn wall. Charles blinked and took a deep breath, smiling into Rose’s eyes. He dropped his hand, and Rose felt simultaneously disappointed and relieved.
“You got food, you got water. Now settle down, you hooligan,” he said to Rascal.
“He just wants attention. Don’t you, you darling,” she said, smoothing the horse’s long forelock. “Let me just plait this here, Rascal, even if you are a boy. And a scamp at that. Would you like that? Oh, to have such long hair!”
“Yours is softer, though,” said Charles quietly, not looking at her while he put away the grooming supplies.
“Thank you, sir,” she said, startled.
He reached out and caught her hand, and she held on. They walked together into the house.
“It’s probably too dry. I tried to keep it warm,” said Charles, taking a plate from the stove and handing it to her.
“I don’t care,” she said. She bowed her head for a moment and then ate the stew quickly.
“You sure polished that plate,” he said admiringly.
“It’s all the fresh, California air,” she said. “It gives me such an appetite.”
He bit back a grin.
“What?” She looked up from her plate. “Oh, don’t you dare make me start laughing again!”
“It just reminded me…” He covered his mouth, trying to hide his grin.
“Yes, I know. You were reminded of my foolish comment in the barn regarding my former comparative plumpness in contrast to my current convalescing state of slenderness.” She couldn’t help laughing.
“I’m just glad you’re feeling well after our trip today,” he said, relief evident in his expression.
“I had a wonderful time. I love our home, and Cutler’s Pass, and all the kind people I have been meeting, and Rascal, and… and…” She stopped, flustered, looking down at the table. “And it’s finally so good to see a little more of this part of the world. I had read about redwoods, even seen some in a daguerreotype, but to actually stand in their presence? It was incredible.”
“We can go back, any time,” he said earnestly. “And don’t forget, I have another place I want to bring you soon. We could go next Saturday, if you’d like. There are so many beautiful spots around here.”
“I can’t wait,” she said, sitting back. “Well, my goodness. Looks as though I woke up just in time to turn around and go back to sleep.”
It was dark and very quiet except for the riotous string music of crickets and the soft bass of a moth thumping against the window, drawn by the glow of the kerosene lamp.
She stood to clear her place, and he got up, taking her plate. He held it, not turning to the sink, gazing down at her. She stilled, looking up at him. He took a quick breath and turned away.
“I’ll just wash these,” he said, his voice sounding somewhat strained.
Again, Rose felt simultaneously disappointed and relieved. “Good night.” She went to her
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