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Authors: Carré White
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I’m much obliged.”
Would he mention asking my father for my hand in marriage? “Oh, one more thing. My parents have invited you to dinner. Will you come?”
“I’d be happy to.”
“We eat at six.”
“That sounds fine. What’s that smell?”
“A roasting pig. I’m also making stuffing. It’s inside the pig for flavor. We’re having Apple Dumpling Soup as well.”
“I thought I smelled cinnamon.”
“You did.” Our eyes met, as something tangible passed between us. There was a long moment of silence, yet it was not awkward in the least. “I should speak to Ellen. It’ll take some time to heat all that water.”
“Do you need help with the tub?” His fingers brushed my arm.
“No, we’re fine. Someone will bring it in a few minutes.”
“Thank you, Willow.”
“You’re welcome.”
Chapter Ten
I was nervous, horribly nervous, fussing with my hair, picking away at imaginary lint, and worrying how my family would behave at dinner. The dining room had swelled with people, the sucking pig having roasted to perfection, the stuffing infusing the meat with hints of onion and sage. The soup had been devoured with equal aplomb.
“There you are,” said Leona. “We’re all waiting for you.”
It wasn’t in my nature to linger before a mirror, but tonight I had stared at myself, seeing the scars, but not really seeing them. What stood out the most were my eyes, which could be described as unusually bright. I’d never felt as pretty as I did in that moment.
“I’m ready.”
“Well, you should be.” Her hands were on her hips, but good-humor shone in her eyes. “I thought I was vain. Humph.”
“I look for one moment and get chastised.”
She linked her arm through mine. “Your future husband is waiting for you, Willow. You’ve already kept him long enough.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that. He didn’t say a thing about asking pa for my hand.”
“Sorry. I can’t help with that. I haven’t a clue what goes through the minds of men most days.”
In the dining room, there were others, as they lingered after the meal. I was astonished to find William Stanford in attendance along with his fiancé, Cybele. I braced myself inwardly, expecting to feel the sadness I so often experienced in their presence, but it failed to materialize. Instead, my belly tingled at the sight of Mr. Hindman, who sat next to my father. I approached them, as Leona took a seat. Guss got to his feet, holding out a chair for me.
“Thank you.”
“You look lovely, Willow.”
“Thank you.”
He’d bathed, as his hair was combed back and his face had been trimmed of unruly hair. His clothing would take another day to launder, as Milly had her hands full with bedding, but his appearance was already vastly improved.
Ellen appeared, carrying several plates. “Here you are. I’ll bring the soup in a bit. Enjoy!”
“Thank you, Ellen,” said mother. “You’ve yet again spoiled us, Willow. She hardly ever cooks the same dish in a week.”
“I alternate. No one wants the same thing.”
“But I love your fried chicken,” said Leona. “I could eat that every day of the week.”
Pa nodded. “She does have an excellent fried chicken.”
Their praise was pleasing, leaving me elated. “It’s the one skill I possess. I do love to cook.”
“And it’s not wasted at all on all of these people,” said Leona. “Everyone raves about your meals.”
“Shall we open a bottle of wine?” asked mother.
“That would be lovely.” Pa glanced at me. “You’ve made yourself pretty tonight, Willow. That’s a lovely ribbon in your hair.”
The compliments were too much. “Oh, stop that now.”
“She’s blushing,” said Leona.
“I’m not.”
As mother brought over the wine, uncorking the bottle, she glanced at Mr. Hindman. “So, I have it on good authority that you plan to stay in Cripple Creek.”
“I do.”
“You were mining?”
“I was. I stupidly went out in these
Would he mention asking my father for my hand in marriage? “Oh, one more thing. My parents have invited you to dinner. Will you come?”
“I’d be happy to.”
“We eat at six.”
“That sounds fine. What’s that smell?”
“A roasting pig. I’m also making stuffing. It’s inside the pig for flavor. We’re having Apple Dumpling Soup as well.”
“I thought I smelled cinnamon.”
“You did.” Our eyes met, as something tangible passed between us. There was a long moment of silence, yet it was not awkward in the least. “I should speak to Ellen. It’ll take some time to heat all that water.”
“Do you need help with the tub?” His fingers brushed my arm.
“No, we’re fine. Someone will bring it in a few minutes.”
“Thank you, Willow.”
“You’re welcome.”
Chapter Ten
I was nervous, horribly nervous, fussing with my hair, picking away at imaginary lint, and worrying how my family would behave at dinner. The dining room had swelled with people, the sucking pig having roasted to perfection, the stuffing infusing the meat with hints of onion and sage. The soup had been devoured with equal aplomb.
“There you are,” said Leona. “We’re all waiting for you.”
It wasn’t in my nature to linger before a mirror, but tonight I had stared at myself, seeing the scars, but not really seeing them. What stood out the most were my eyes, which could be described as unusually bright. I’d never felt as pretty as I did in that moment.
“I’m ready.”
“Well, you should be.” Her hands were on her hips, but good-humor shone in her eyes. “I thought I was vain. Humph.”
“I look for one moment and get chastised.”
She linked her arm through mine. “Your future husband is waiting for you, Willow. You’ve already kept him long enough.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that. He didn’t say a thing about asking pa for my hand.”
“Sorry. I can’t help with that. I haven’t a clue what goes through the minds of men most days.”
In the dining room, there were others, as they lingered after the meal. I was astonished to find William Stanford in attendance along with his fiancé, Cybele. I braced myself inwardly, expecting to feel the sadness I so often experienced in their presence, but it failed to materialize. Instead, my belly tingled at the sight of Mr. Hindman, who sat next to my father. I approached them, as Leona took a seat. Guss got to his feet, holding out a chair for me.
“Thank you.”
“You look lovely, Willow.”
“Thank you.”
He’d bathed, as his hair was combed back and his face had been trimmed of unruly hair. His clothing would take another day to launder, as Milly had her hands full with bedding, but his appearance was already vastly improved.
Ellen appeared, carrying several plates. “Here you are. I’ll bring the soup in a bit. Enjoy!”
“Thank you, Ellen,” said mother. “You’ve yet again spoiled us, Willow. She hardly ever cooks the same dish in a week.”
“I alternate. No one wants the same thing.”
“But I love your fried chicken,” said Leona. “I could eat that every day of the week.”
Pa nodded. “She does have an excellent fried chicken.”
Their praise was pleasing, leaving me elated. “It’s the one skill I possess. I do love to cook.”
“And it’s not wasted at all on all of these people,” said Leona. “Everyone raves about your meals.”
“Shall we open a bottle of wine?” asked mother.
“That would be lovely.” Pa glanced at me. “You’ve made yourself pretty tonight, Willow. That’s a lovely ribbon in your hair.”
The compliments were too much. “Oh, stop that now.”
“She’s blushing,” said Leona.
“I’m not.”
As mother brought over the wine, uncorking the bottle, she glanced at Mr. Hindman. “So, I have it on good authority that you plan to stay in Cripple Creek.”
“I do.”
“You were mining?”
“I was. I stupidly went out in these
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