Colorado Courtship: Winter of Dreams / The Rancher's Sweetheart. Cheryl St.JohnЧитать онлайн книгу.
you.”
“You could have come found me.”
Her gaze skittered to the door and back. “I preferred to wait. Did Mr. Crabtree go home?”
“Yes, quite a while ago.”
“Would you like a cup of coffee?”
He glanced at the cold stove. “I’m fine, thanks. What did you want to talk about?”
“Tessa and I went shopping today, as you know.”
He nodded.
“She let me know you wanted me to have several dresses.”
“I hope you weren’t offended. You may already have enough clothing.”
“I don’t have appropriate clothing, and I’m not offended. I understand I have a place in your household now and I should look my best in public.”
“Were you able to select things you’ll like?”
“Yes, of course. My concern is the cost. I’ve only begun to earn my keep and wages. I shall be indebted to you for the cost until I’ve been here long enough to repay it.”
“I won’t hear any more talk of indebtedness,” he said. “Our terms of your employment included food, lodging and clothing.”
“I thought perhaps a few work dresses would be included, not such lovely—and expensive—things.”
“Do you need work dresses, as well?”
“No, I can wear my own.”
“All right. Your wages are your wages, Miss Bennett, to use any way you see fit. Food, a room and clothing are my concern. A position like this requires a sacrifice many women aren’t willing or able to make. You’ve already relocated in an unfamiliar place. Your schedule will revolve around ours for as long as you’re in my employ. You’ve made a big commitment to my family, and I don’t take that lightly.”
He made it sound as though she was doing him a favor, instead of the other way around. Of course he didn’t know she’d never lived anywhere so nice or had as many choices for meals or used such efficient appliances. There wasn’t a cook around who wouldn’t move lock, stock and barrel to work in this home.
Still, it was an extravagant expense. “Well, then I thank you.”
“Have you made yourself familiar with the rest of the house?” he asked.
She tried not to react, but a growing fear in the back of her mind wouldn’t leave her alone. She’d fought the panic earlier, but she didn’t dare get any closer to the place where he worked. If he wanted her to clean the rooms in the mortuary, she might have to leave.
Had she seen the entire house? “Not yet.”
“You’ve barely had time to get settled. Maybe tomorrow you’ll look around. We don’t get the place dirty, so a little dusting is all that’s needed most of the time. Tessa takes care of her own room, but I would appreciate it if you dusted mine and changed sheets on the beds. You may send out bedding and clothing to be laundered. And, Violet?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Please make yourself at home. Use any room you care to and help yourself to the books. There is sufficient lighting in the parlor if you do needlework.”
“Thank you, but...Mr. Hammond?”
He nodded to show he was listening.
Wind buffeted the panes of glass in the long window.
She took a deep breath. “Do my duties extend to cleaning next door at—at—where you work?”
“Goodness, no. Someone from town comes once a week to clean the mortuary—more often if we’re especially busy. I should have thought to tell you that. I wasn’t thinking.”
Relief washed over her at his reply. Once he’d said good-night and gone upstairs, she poured herself a pitcher of warm water and turned down the wick until the oil lamp snuffed out. She felt as though she’d escaped the guillotine. She didn’t think there was enough money in the Carson Springs bank to get her to clean the funeral home.
When she reached the upstairs hallway, she paused before the door to her room. Voices came from the other end, where the library was, as brother and sister conversed pleasantly. She listened for a moment, not eavesdropping, but learning about their family. Ben Charles chuckled, and the deep sound resonated to where she stood, creating an empty ache in her chest.
She admired what they shared. She mourned for the loss of family. They had lost parents, too, but they had each other. Something she would never know. She let herself into her room and turned on the light using the wall switch. Lamps on either side of the door lit the room.
She admired the relationship between Ben Charles and Tessa. Other siblings she’d observed had been young and squabbled most of the time. Perhaps the difference in their ages made a difference. Surely him taking on the responsibility of raising her had changed everything. Ben Charles was devoted to his young sister. Violet thought of how they held hands as he prayed for their meals. Tessa spoke of him with pride and honor, as she would a beloved father. She looked at him with love and respect in every glance. Theirs was an enviable relationship.
Violet may not have had anything comparable in her life, but she had other things to appreciate. Her employer and his sister were kind and gracious. It seemed this job was hers for as long as she wanted it. Her room was cozy and felt like home already. And she didn’t have to dust the dark side.
She felt bad for thinking of it like that, but when she thought of what Ben Charles did next door, her attitude darkened and her imagination ran amok. His occupation obviously provided a luxurious home and many comforts for his sister and employees—and he seemed to genuinely enjoy what he did.
That didn’t mean she would ever be comfortable with his profession or the mortuary next door, but it didn’t look as though he was going to force a closer proximity on her. She was happy right here, and she had no intention of getting any closer.
As long as the situation remained as it was, she was going to do just fine.
Chapter Four
Violet didn’t want to disappoint her employer, who plainly took for granted she’d be going to church. She had no idea how to decide which one to attend, so if a man like Ben Charles attended the Carson Springs First Christian Church, she figured it must be all right. She wore the dress she’d traveled in, because it was the newest, and she took special care with her hair. She had saved a tiny hat that had belonged to her mother, so she pulled it from its box and adjusted it on her hair, securing it with a long pin.
Violet studied her reflection in the mirror, trying to remember what her mother had looked like, wondering if she resembled her. She had only a few mementos and had been fearful she’d never see them again, after her unexpected flight from Ohio.
Her belongings had been stored, awaiting her arrival, when she’d used the name Wade Finney had given her to claim them. While she was still angry and resentful, she was thankful for that small favor. The fistful of money he’d thrust at her had been enough to pay for a room until she found a job, to buy a few pieces of clothing for travel and to send telegrams. Ben Charles had paid for her train tickets and wired her money for expenses to get here.
Already the fire seemed so long ago. She and her father had both grieved over selling the shop to the Finneys and now it had gone up in smoke. At least her father hadn’t lived to see the destruction. Violet got her coat and carried it downstairs.
She’d made biscuits the night before, so they each ate one with a cup of tea before heading out. It had snowed again during the night, and in a few places the snow had drifted over the road. More than once Ben Charles took a shovel from the boot and made a path for the horse. The main street through Carson Springs had been cleared, making the rest of the trip less difficult.
Ben