Rocky Mountain Proposal

If he looked at her now, straight in the eyes, she might be able to see the way his soul had suddenly begun churning with the smallest bit of tenderness, attraction.

He was being ridiculous. He was as silly as a smitten schoolboy. He’d been widowed for ten months. He’d not spared any woman a single glance. So why would he now? Aaron struggled to pull himself together as he wondered what had gotten into him.

“You have a lovely dress, too. Pink is such a charming color—just like you.” Hope nodded at Libby with a fair amount of fancy manners. Which probably went far with Libby seeing as how the girl considered herself an expert in ladylike ways.

The way Libby perched her hands in front of her in the same manner as Hope provoked a few light chuckles from his family.

“My name’s Libby.” She reached out and fingered Hope’s satin dress. “What’s your name?”

She knelt and met Libby, eye to eye. “Hope.”

Hope. Aaron’s promise once again unfurled in his mind like a heralding banner. He’d like to just roll it up and stuff it away, but try as he might, he couldn’t seem to catch the thing and bring it back.

“I like your name. Hope. Mama and Papa say that we should always have hope.” She turned and looked at Ben and Callie, her earnest expression melting Aaron’s heart. “Don’t you?”

“Yes, we do,” Ben answered on a wink. He pulled a hand over his mouth as though to wipe off a grin. “We’re all for hope.”

Aaron couldn’t feel any more cornered than he did right now. Ben, Zach, Joseph, Callie and Katie.…

At least sweet little Libby hadn’t forsaken him.

Just then Libby peered back at Hope, reached out and took her hand. “So I guess that means you’re gonna be part of our family.”

Hope yawned as long and wide as she imagined humanly possible. Five o’clock in the morning was far earlier than she was accustomed to rising, but after Aaron and his brothers had set her down yesterday and noted the numerous chores and details of the farm for her, she was quite certain that this ghastly hour wouldn’t be nearly early enough.

All night long she’d been deliberating the enormous changes in her life and had just nodded off when a loud cackling call from outside her window had pierced her slumber. Once again, she peered out the bedroom window, watching as the large chestnut-colored rooster strutted as pretty as you please, right underneath her opened window. With one eye aimed her way, he stared up at her as if to get a glimpse of the newcomer.

She tugged her long white opera gloves on as far as they would go, adjusted her pale green silk dress, then drew her shawl around her shoulders and walked out to the barn. Her warm breath fanned out in a ghostlike cloud into early morning, the hint of purple, pink and orange hanging on the horizon, heralding the day. When she opened the barn door, an earthy, not exactly unpleasant, scent met her square in the face. Holding a lantern before her, she stepped inside, the dim light lapping up the darkness in warm, gentle waves.

The crude dwelling closed her in but not so that she felt unsafe. Holding the lantern high, she looked the barn over, noticing the sturdiness and how solid and thick the beams were that endured the weight.

Just then a shifting sound came from somewhere up ahead. Then it came again followed by a low groan.

She froze on the spot and slid her gaze to the left where the noise originated. When another low groan met her, she nearly dropped the lantern.

Her heart pounded hard and fast inside her chest as she scanned the dwelling. She held her breath, images of a mountain lion leaping from the shadows and pouncing on her flashing through her mind. The hair on her neck stood on end. With needlelike claws, fear pierced deep, delving into her peace, her mind, her composure.

The noise came again followed by a distinctive mooing sound.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Hope sighed in the most unladylike way she’d ever permitted herself. “It’s only a cow.”

She was being silly. Aaron had cautioned her on many issues, but milking the cow had not been counted among them. There was nothing to fear. Right?

In truth, she could find trepidation in nearly every place she looked. But if she let fear guide her thoughts, she might not have the fortitude to manage on her own. Growing up in a wealthy Boston family, she’d never been exposed to farm animals except for the horses that had pulled their carriages to and fro. She’d often begged for a cat or a dog to love, but her mother had refused, noting that animals belonged in the country.

Willing one foot in front of the other, she followed a generously large, dirt-packed corridor to a stall where a fat brown cow stood, its tail swishing from side to side as it chewed on something. It peered over at her, its big brown eyes looking no more malicious than its thin, long tail looked like a weapon.

“Now, then, aren’t you a fine-looking cow?” She willed her pulse to even out.

Nonplussed by her greeting, the creature continued chewing in a slow and lazy way.

She opened the latch to the wood-plank half door and squeezed inside, quickly closing it behind her. Although this four-legged being seemed docile enough, Hope couldn’t be sure that, given the opportunity, it might not escape. And she definitely didn’t fancy the idea of chasing it about the farm yard.

“You must be the cow I’m going to milk this morning.”

The beast sighed, its warm breath hanging like a peaceful mist in the crude stable. Aaron had cautioned her never to stare into the eyes of a bull, but he’d obviously never met this cow.

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