had to, to take away that sadness.
"Guess I'll see you bright and early tomorrow." He climbed to his feet, swung the chair back into place, wishing he had the right to comfort her. To haul her into his arms and profess his intentions to her. But she belonged to another, her life was contractually bound to Maureen. Until that was resolved, he had to be respectful of it. Because when he made a promise to Maebry, it had to be one he could keep.
"For breakfast, right." She tilted her face up, where the lamplight found it. Revealing porcelain-fine cheekbones, the precious curve of her face, the sweep of her long curly lashes. Emotion glinted in her eyes. Was it longing he saw?
"And don't forget you owe me a dance." He wanted to reach for her, lay his hand against the soft side of her face, savor being close to her, maybe press a kiss to her forehead. But he wouldn't do that to her. Not until she was free of her contract. Not until he could show her the dreams he had in store for her.
"Now, eat that sandwich and go to bed." He grabbed his hat, headed away, smiled back at her. Tried to keep the love out of his voice. "Good night, Sunshine."
There were tears in her eyes when he closed the door. The storm hurled ice at him, but he hardly felt it. What he felt inside—the warmth, the light—wasn't something that any storm could dim. Nothing on earth could.
Chapter Five
He'd called her Sunshine. The honest, undisguised regard and affection in his voice was a sound that stayed with her through her dreams and into the next morning. Every time she thought of it, her chest glowed. But sadness crept in too. It was impossible, but meant the world to know he cared that much for her. Sunshine, he'd called her, the man looking for a woman to light up his life.
A loud
clink
startled her. A fallen spatula, and she must have been the one who dropped it. She blinked, bringing her surroundings into focus and clearing her senses. She stood in front of the cook stove, where bacon sizzled and popped in a frying pan, hashed potatoes browned in a skillet, and a yellowy swirl of scrambled eggs were busy congealing in the double skillet. Oops, looked like she'd forgotten to stir them. Imagine the looks on the ranch hands' faces when they saw their breakfast had been ruined. Maybe she'd better pay attention. This was Gil's breakfast too.
"Need any help there?" Josslyn sauntered over with an empty platter. She set it down within easy reach for the eggs, when they were done. "It isn't like you to drop spatulas right and left. If I don't miss my guess, that's an I'm-thinking-of-a-man look you've got on your face."
"I was thinking of the sandwich I had for dinner last night." The one Gil had made her (which had tasted good, by the way). She'd never forget how he'd taken care of her. She tried to wince away the blush on her face, because it was going to give her away. "You know how I love beef sandwiches."
"There it is again. That look." Amused, Josslyn sidled in and stole the spatula. "Move aside. I'm not having this meal ruined by a daydreamer."
"I won't ruin it. I promise to pay better attention." What she didn't want to admit was her feelings for Gil. No, it was better to keep them to herself. If Josslyn knew, then in a blink Aumaleigh and Orla would too. They would root for her, start hoping for her, and that would only feed hopes that could not possibly be met. "Josslyn, let me do my job."
"Sorry, it's almost done anyway. You can flip the bacon for me and drain it." All business, Josslyn expertly stirred the eggs. "I saw your light on pretty late last night. Maureen kept you up again?"
"It wasn't too bad." She grabbed a fork and rescued the smoky bacon slices from the hot pan. The delicious, savory scent of bacon wafted upward, and she breathed it in, making her stomach rumble. "Aumaleigh had it worse. I think she was up most of the night."
"I suspected as much. If the old woman would part with a few of her precious dollars, she could
"Guess I'll see you bright and early tomorrow." He climbed to his feet, swung the chair back into place, wishing he had the right to comfort her. To haul her into his arms and profess his intentions to her. But she belonged to another, her life was contractually bound to Maureen. Until that was resolved, he had to be respectful of it. Because when he made a promise to Maebry, it had to be one he could keep.
"For breakfast, right." She tilted her face up, where the lamplight found it. Revealing porcelain-fine cheekbones, the precious curve of her face, the sweep of her long curly lashes. Emotion glinted in her eyes. Was it longing he saw?
"And don't forget you owe me a dance." He wanted to reach for her, lay his hand against the soft side of her face, savor being close to her, maybe press a kiss to her forehead. But he wouldn't do that to her. Not until she was free of her contract. Not until he could show her the dreams he had in store for her.
"Now, eat that sandwich and go to bed." He grabbed his hat, headed away, smiled back at her. Tried to keep the love out of his voice. "Good night, Sunshine."
There were tears in her eyes when he closed the door. The storm hurled ice at him, but he hardly felt it. What he felt inside—the warmth, the light—wasn't something that any storm could dim. Nothing on earth could.
Chapter Five
He'd called her Sunshine. The honest, undisguised regard and affection in his voice was a sound that stayed with her through her dreams and into the next morning. Every time she thought of it, her chest glowed. But sadness crept in too. It was impossible, but meant the world to know he cared that much for her. Sunshine, he'd called her, the man looking for a woman to light up his life.
A loud
clink
startled her. A fallen spatula, and she must have been the one who dropped it. She blinked, bringing her surroundings into focus and clearing her senses. She stood in front of the cook stove, where bacon sizzled and popped in a frying pan, hashed potatoes browned in a skillet, and a yellowy swirl of scrambled eggs were busy congealing in the double skillet. Oops, looked like she'd forgotten to stir them. Imagine the looks on the ranch hands' faces when they saw their breakfast had been ruined. Maybe she'd better pay attention. This was Gil's breakfast too.
"Need any help there?" Josslyn sauntered over with an empty platter. She set it down within easy reach for the eggs, when they were done. "It isn't like you to drop spatulas right and left. If I don't miss my guess, that's an I'm-thinking-of-a-man look you've got on your face."
"I was thinking of the sandwich I had for dinner last night." The one Gil had made her (which had tasted good, by the way). She'd never forget how he'd taken care of her. She tried to wince away the blush on her face, because it was going to give her away. "You know how I love beef sandwiches."
"There it is again. That look." Amused, Josslyn sidled in and stole the spatula. "Move aside. I'm not having this meal ruined by a daydreamer."
"I won't ruin it. I promise to pay better attention." What she didn't want to admit was her feelings for Gil. No, it was better to keep them to herself. If Josslyn knew, then in a blink Aumaleigh and Orla would too. They would root for her, start hoping for her, and that would only feed hopes that could not possibly be met. "Josslyn, let me do my job."
"Sorry, it's almost done anyway. You can flip the bacon for me and drain it." All business, Josslyn expertly stirred the eggs. "I saw your light on pretty late last night. Maureen kept you up again?"
"It wasn't too bad." She grabbed a fork and rescued the smoky bacon slices from the hot pan. The delicious, savory scent of bacon wafted upward, and she breathed it in, making her stomach rumble. "Aumaleigh had it worse. I think she was up most of the night."
"I suspected as much. If the old woman would part with a few of her precious dollars, she could
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