view was the best thing about the bare bones room. From the window Jo could see the glistening fields all the way until they met the tree line, which extended up and up into the deep, blue mountains. It was lovely, and with a few homey touches, namely bedding, curtains, and rug, this room was more than Jo had hoped for.
“I wasn’t expecting to hire a woman, so I had the bunkhouse shored up getting ready for new hands, but this room,” Leif paused, looking around, “is…”
“Perfect,” Jo completed for him, “I was prepared to have Charlie for a bunkmate,” she smiled wryly.
Leif was relieved that she appeared to like the room. Hiring Jo was one thing, but on the ride to the ranch, it occurred to him that housing Jo in the bunkhouse with Charlie would be inappropriate. He didn’t know if situating her in the house and on the same floor with two bachelors was exactly suitable either, but what other options did he have? At any rate, Mattie and Kirby were just down the stairs, and knowing Mattie as he did, she was plenty of a chaperone. Besides, Leif had experienced only one little pang when Jo had smiled and turned her pretty blue eyes on him, but he wasn’t attracted to her. What he was really worried about was the boss. He wouldn’t like the arrangement one bit.
A second later, Kirby came panting into the room, carrying one of Jo’s heavy luggage trunks. “Mighty sparse accommodations,” he observed, looking around. “Pretty view though” he added, walking over to the window.
Jo joined him at the window, her eyes sweeping over the cobalt mountain peaks still covered in snow. She saw Charlie in the yard, playfully wrestling a dog. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Kirby and Leif who were next to her. An overwhelming sense of belonging swept over her. The rightness of being here branded itself on her heart.
“It sure is,” Jo breathed, agreeing with Kirby’s observation.
C hapter Eight
Raising the handles of the posthole diggers high over her head, Jo thrust downward into the soft earth with all her might. The hole was about two feet deep. One more foot and it would be deep enough to place the post in the ground. The muscles in Jo’s forearms shook with effort as she forcefully jabbed the diggers into the soil. Pulling the handles apart, she lifted a load of dirt out of the hole and dropped it onto the pile of soft earth. Squatting to pick up the thick post, she wrapped one hand under it and one over and swung it upright into the hole, then kicked the pile of dirt back into the opening with the toe of her new expensive boots. She took the end of a long shovel and beat at the dirt to push it to the bottom of the hole. Once the post was secure, Jo leaned the front of her shoulder on it and looked at the long line of posts she had placed in the ground at the edge of the pasture. The sight of the posts standing straight and even in the dimming light moved Jo.
It had been a daunting task when Leif drove her and a wagon load of posts out to the pasture two mornings ago, explaining that this would be her job, while he, Kirby, and Charlie planted crops a field away. Full of enthusiasm, Jo had set to work immediately, and the first seven or eight posts that morning were in place rather swiftly. By the tenth post Jo had hit a patch of rocky dirt, and every thrust of the diggers shot vibrations up her arms. At the end of the day, she was depleted of all strength. Wearily she crawled into bed and was a breath away from drifting off when she remembered she hadn’t said her prayers. She rolled slowly from the bed to kneel at its side, resting her arms and head on the quilt. “Heavenly Father, I thank thee. Amen.” Then promptly she fell asleep on the wood floor. The next morning she awoke with awful soreness in her shoulders and arms, along with more fence posts to place.
Now, as Jo stared at the posts, she tried to remember when she had felt this much gratification at the end of a task, and
“I wasn’t expecting to hire a woman, so I had the bunkhouse shored up getting ready for new hands, but this room,” Leif paused, looking around, “is…”
“Perfect,” Jo completed for him, “I was prepared to have Charlie for a bunkmate,” she smiled wryly.
Leif was relieved that she appeared to like the room. Hiring Jo was one thing, but on the ride to the ranch, it occurred to him that housing Jo in the bunkhouse with Charlie would be inappropriate. He didn’t know if situating her in the house and on the same floor with two bachelors was exactly suitable either, but what other options did he have? At any rate, Mattie and Kirby were just down the stairs, and knowing Mattie as he did, she was plenty of a chaperone. Besides, Leif had experienced only one little pang when Jo had smiled and turned her pretty blue eyes on him, but he wasn’t attracted to her. What he was really worried about was the boss. He wouldn’t like the arrangement one bit.
A second later, Kirby came panting into the room, carrying one of Jo’s heavy luggage trunks. “Mighty sparse accommodations,” he observed, looking around. “Pretty view though” he added, walking over to the window.
Jo joined him at the window, her eyes sweeping over the cobalt mountain peaks still covered in snow. She saw Charlie in the yard, playfully wrestling a dog. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Kirby and Leif who were next to her. An overwhelming sense of belonging swept over her. The rightness of being here branded itself on her heart.
“It sure is,” Jo breathed, agreeing with Kirby’s observation.
C hapter Eight
Raising the handles of the posthole diggers high over her head, Jo thrust downward into the soft earth with all her might. The hole was about two feet deep. One more foot and it would be deep enough to place the post in the ground. The muscles in Jo’s forearms shook with effort as she forcefully jabbed the diggers into the soil. Pulling the handles apart, she lifted a load of dirt out of the hole and dropped it onto the pile of soft earth. Squatting to pick up the thick post, she wrapped one hand under it and one over and swung it upright into the hole, then kicked the pile of dirt back into the opening with the toe of her new expensive boots. She took the end of a long shovel and beat at the dirt to push it to the bottom of the hole. Once the post was secure, Jo leaned the front of her shoulder on it and looked at the long line of posts she had placed in the ground at the edge of the pasture. The sight of the posts standing straight and even in the dimming light moved Jo.
It had been a daunting task when Leif drove her and a wagon load of posts out to the pasture two mornings ago, explaining that this would be her job, while he, Kirby, and Charlie planted crops a field away. Full of enthusiasm, Jo had set to work immediately, and the first seven or eight posts that morning were in place rather swiftly. By the tenth post Jo had hit a patch of rocky dirt, and every thrust of the diggers shot vibrations up her arms. At the end of the day, she was depleted of all strength. Wearily she crawled into bed and was a breath away from drifting off when she remembered she hadn’t said her prayers. She rolled slowly from the bed to kneel at its side, resting her arms and head on the quilt. “Heavenly Father, I thank thee. Amen.” Then promptly she fell asleep on the wood floor. The next morning she awoke with awful soreness in her shoulders and arms, along with more fence posts to place.
Now, as Jo stared at the posts, she tried to remember when she had felt this much gratification at the end of a task, and
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