had to watch what she said. Comments like that could anger these men. Any time she had expressed her opinion at home had certainly made her stepfather angry.
But, when Bram spoke, he sounded thoughtful, reassuring. “I don’t look for him to find a family. Not one that’s suitable, anyway. He won’t let her go with anyone if he isn’t a hundred percent sure.”
Emma didn’t see why Jake had to try and give Molly away, at all. She put the clean coffeepot back on the stove, asking softly, “Do you want to give her away, too?”
“No, but I haven’t been through what he’s—”
Emma glanced up, waiting.
Bram peered hard at the skillet he dried. “He’ll come around. He’s a tough nut to crack sometimes.”
She wanted to believe Bram; he certainly knew his brother better than she did. But what had he meant about Jake? What had he been through?
Before she could ponder too long, the big man beside her stacked the now-clean pans and placed them up on the long shelf that ran the length of the wall behind the sink. He hung the damp towel on the rack.
“Thanks for your help.” She dried her hands on her apron.
“You’re welcome. You should get some shut-eye. You’ve had a rough day.”
She doused the lantern, then followed him out of the kitchen.
He took care of the lantern at the foot of the stairs then started up, his piece of pie wrapped in a cloth. Pale yellow light washed down the stairs from a hall lamp by the bedrooms. “Good night.”
“Good night.” She bent and picked up Molly, soothing the little girl when she stirred. In the few steps it took to reach their room, the baby was again deeply asleep.
Emma moved to the bed, noticing a plain brown wrapped package at the foot of the mattress.
Last night, in the middle of the night, the little girl had climbed out and toddled over to Emma. She’d wanted to play and, when Emma had finally gotten Molly back to sleep, she’d kept the baby in bed with her. She couldn’t have her sister wandering about at night.
She settled the little girl into the fat mattress, where she would sleep until her bed arrived. Emma folded the blanket to the foot of the bed and left only the top sheet. The nights were too hot for more than one layer. She picked up the package and walked to the washstand against the far wall to turn up the lamp a bit. Amber light flickered on the floor as she sank down into the rocking chair that sat near the window. Tired and sore, Emma took off her glasses and placed them on the washstand. She closed her eyes for a second before unknotting the twine around the package and opening it. She gaped.
A corset!
As her fingers skimmed over the pale colored sateen-weave cotton and cream lace trim at the top, she wavered between embarrassment and pleasure. But, when she touched the satin ribbon threaded through the lace, the embarrassment faded. Jake had gotten her a corset. It had to have been him; no one else knew. How had he done it? When?
The package hadn’t been in the wagon; it would’ve flown out during the accident and Emma would’ve seen it. She lifted the undergarment, taking note of the fine whalebone, the steel busk at the center front where it hooked together. It was a “spoon busk,” curved in at the waist and widened into a pear shape at the bottom. That was what gave it smooth, slim lines, what every fashionable woman wore.
The garment was much finer than Emma’s stolen one. She held it up by the side seams to check the width. It would fit. It looked perfect. Her throat tightened.
Jake Ross had gotten her a corset.
She stared in amazement. She had to thank him.
It wouldn’t suit to ignore the gesture, regardless of the gift being so intimate. She pushed out of the rocking chair, clasping the undergarment tight as she hurried out of her room. She stopped outside of the door.
Everyone was asleep. Jake probably wouldn’t be coming back down here tonight and Emma certainly couldn’t go up there. Slowly, she turned and went back into her room, so overwhelmed she felt as if her chest might burst.
Believing her to be afraid, he had kept a marked distance from her ever since they’d reached the ranch. The smart thing to do would be to keep her distance, as well. It was best for her and Molly’s safety. But Emma couldn’t ignore the gift. She just couldn’t. The first time they had a moment alone, she would thank him.
Emma had been wearing her new corset for the last two days and she knew Jake was aware. Three times she had caught his heated gaze on her. But she still hadn’t had a single opportunity to thank him alone.
She wanted it done. Maybe then she could stop thinking about him in her room, touching her corset.
It was midafternoon and Georgia had gone into town for a Saturday meeting with the library committee. The men were out stringing fence. Emma had heard more talk last night as they’d tried to decide how to set a trap for the cattle rustlers.
About a half hour ago, Emma had put the baby down for her nap then swept and dusted the rooms upstairs. Now she surveyed the freshly scrubbed kitchen floor and fanned herself with one hand. Perspiration trickled between her breasts and down her spine, and she plucked the light cotton dress away from her skin. Pushing back the hair that had come loose from her braid, she undid the top two buttons on her bodice.
Since it appeared she wasn’t ever going to be able to talk to Jake alone, she would write him a thank-you note. She walked across the room to the big oak desk that sat in a space off the living area. A quill pen and ink well rested on the far corner, but Emma saw no paper.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
