Golden Chances (Borrowed Brides 1) - Page 71

Reese grunted. Faith moved closer to take his jacket. Reese held up his hands to ward her off. She looked so soft and clean in her white flannel nightgown and heavy robe, while he… “Don’t get too close. I smell.”

Faith wrinkled her nose. He did. His clothes were covered in dirt and blood and other odors she chose not to identify. Reese tossed his jacket across a chair on his way to the sink.

He pumped water in the basin and was about to wash dip his face in when Faith stopped him. “Wait!”

She tipped a kettle over the basin. A stream of boiling water mingled with the ice cold. A cloud of vapor drifted upward. Reese stared at her as she reached in to swirl the water, testing the temperature as if he were a child. “All right.” She confirmed. Faith set the kettle on the table, then handed Reese a towel and a bar of soap.

He continued to stare, unable to comprehend the incredible luxury. He’d been washing in cold water for years. He couldn’t remember anyone waiting up with coffee and hot water.

Faith smiled at him. He noticed her braid hung over one shoulder. “Reese,” she prodded, gently, “wash up. I’ll fix you a plate.” She turned back to the table. “How’s the mare?”

“What?” He sloshed more water over his face.

“How’s the mare?” She pulled a shirt from a basket on the table. “Put this on.” She handed it to Reese as he moved to sit down across from her chair.

It was one of his.

“Fine. We lost one of the foals, though. She had twins.” His words were softly spoken.

“I’m sorry.” Faith placed a plate in front of him along with his cup of coffee. She sat down across from him.

“Aren’t you having any?” Reese looked over at her. She pulled another shirt from the basket and opened a small box. It was full of buttons. A gold thimble adorned her finger.

Faith shook her head as she bit the end of the thread. “I’m not hungry. But I thought I’d keep you company.” She smiled and tried to gauge his reaction. “If you don’t mind.”

Mind? Reese thought. Mind? When there was a warm, sympathetic woman smiling at him, listening earnestly to his every word? He stopped eating. He watched as she bent her head over her sewing, as she carefully anchored a button into place then laid the shirt aside.

She stood up.

He dropped his fork and reached across the table to catch her wrist. “Stay. Please.”

“I’ll pour us some more coffee.” She told him. “Then you can tell me all about it.”

Her invitation was overwhelming. He told her all about the foaling process, then when he feared he’d bored her to tears, she asked a question about the ranch and he launched into a discussion on management practices. He talked until his throat felt scratchy and strained. And still Faith listened, calmly sewing on buttons and mending tears in a small mountain of garments. Most of them, his. She tossed the last shirt into the basket, sat up straight and stretched her aching muscles.

“You’re tired.” Reese said.

“And so are you.”

“I’ve kept you up too late.” His brown eyes were dark, filled with expression.

“I enjoyed it.” Faith got up from her chair, bustling around the kitchen to dispel the sudden tension. “I need to check on Joy. There’s hot water in the reservoir and I pulled the tub in, in case you wanted a bath. And I hung your robe next to the tub. Would you like some more coffee? Some brandy?”

Reese shook his head.

“Well, I’ll leave you alone to bathe.” She hesitated in the kitchen doorway. “If you need me, just call. I’m going to make sure Joy’s all right.”

“Faith?”

“Yes?”

“It won’t take me long to bathe. If you want to wait, we could check on Joy together. Before we go to bed.” His voice was low, husky, endearing.

Faith swallowed the lump in her throat. Her heart surged with happiness. “I’ll wait.” She told him. “If you’re sure you don’t mind?”

“I’m sure.”

An hour later, they tiptoed up the stairs to Joy’s room. Faith smoothed the wisps of hair off Joy’s sleeping face and planted a kiss on her forehead. Reese fingered the plaits of the little girl’s blond braid, tucked her dolls close beside her, and pulled the covers up tight, just as he did every night. Quietly, he followed Faith out the door.

Tags: Rebecca Hagan Lee Borrowed Brides Historical
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