Sequins and Spurs

“Thank you, Nash.”

He never knew what to say to her. He had trouble acknowledging her, accepting her presence... Looking at her square on, he found she was nothing like he’d imagined or expected. Ruby was unusual. Provoking at times. But she wasn’t a monster, and he hadn’t wanted to admit that. Still didn’t. He stepped out into the corridor between stalls. “You did the right thing.”

Her eyes widened.

He turned and went back to work.

Chapter Seven

Early the following morning a sound woke Ruby. She sat up in bed. She’d been so worn out the night before, she’d barely had the energy to put the last clean dish away and sweep the kitchen floor. Three rooms were spotless. The pantry and cellar were full, and she had rescued a horse. She rolled her shoulders and stretched her arms. This domestic life was more difficult work than singing and acting, but here she didn’t have to avoid the hands of lecherous men or sleep on a hard seat on a rocking train as it crossed the country.

Her youthful dreams had turned into unglamorous reality a long time ago, but she’d been too stubborn to admit her impetuousness, and too proud to give up without giving the effort her all. Nobody could say Ruby Dearing didn’t follow through.

Another sound from one of the rooms reached her. The unaccustomed noise drew her out of bed. She pulled on a lacy dressing gown over her nakedness and opened her door, stepping out into the hall. The sound came from down the hall, so she padded to the doorway of one of the bedrooms.

She peeked around the partially closed door to discover Nash standing before a bureau, adjusting a black tie at his collar. Seeing her movement, he turned. His hair was wet and neatly combed, and he wore a pressed white shirt and dark trousers. “Morning.”

She felt foolish for coming to look. Obviously, he and Pearl had shared this room, and his clothing was still stored inside. “Sorry. I wasn’t used to hearing anyone in the house in the morning.”

She pulled the robe around her more securely. As usual, she hadn’t thought ahead when she’d jumped out of bed and into the hall, with only this thin garment to cover her.

He took several steps toward the doorway. His gaze dropped to the V at her throat, traveled across her breasts and down to her feet before he drew his attention back to her face. “It’s Sunday,” he said simply. “Are you coming to church?”

“I’m not much for church.” Her skin flushed under his perusal. “Your mother did invite me for dinner, though.”

“I can come back for you,” he offered.

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