Page 26 of A Groom for Heather
“Isn’t it early for strawberries?”
“There weren’t many ripe ones to be found. It didn’t help that someone was too busy putting them in his mouth and not the bucket.” Heather laughed, pointing her fork at Arthur.
Arthur looked sheepish and shoved another bite of stew in his mouth, so he didn’t have to speak.
Dalton laughed. “I am sure I will love it. Especially if you made it.”
He could see Heather’s cheeks tint under the glow of the lantern.
“Are you going to teach me how to whittle?” Cecily asked.
“You promised,” Arthur chimed in. He quickly swallowed his mouthful of stew and looked at Heather. “Sorry, Mama. I forgot.”
“Perhaps another night. I’m sure Dalton is extremely tired and you two need a bath.”
The children started to groan. “Mind your mother,” Dalton said. “I need a bath, too.”
“Do you like baths?” Arthur asked. “I like swimming in the creek. Doesn’t that count?”
Dalton grimaced. “There’s a lot of mud in that creek. The river would be better.”
Heather stood and put her plate in a bucket next to the stove. “Don’t give him any ideas.”
“I’m done, Mama. Miss Poppet is full.” Cecily held out her doll for Dalton to see. “This is Miss Poppet.”
“She’s a nice doll. What happened to her hair?”
“Arthur gave her a haircut.”
“We have the yarn to fix it. I’ve just not gotten around to it yet.” Dalton stood and carried his plate over to Heather. “You don’t need to do that. Just sit and I’ll get you some coffee.”
“You don’t have to wait on me, Heather. I appreciate you feeding me. I can earn my keep.” He moved closer to her. “Dinner was delicious.”
Her hair was down and curled around her shoulders. He couldn’t resist touching the blonde strands. His finger gently lifted the curl and watched it as it clung tightly to his finger. His eyes never left Heather’s as he fingered the curl. He could see her pulse quicken in her neck and her lips parted slightly.
She felt it too.
All he would have to do is lean down and kiss her, claiming those lips for his very own. She swallowed and lifted her chin just slightly.
“Pa kissed Mama a lot,” Arthur called from the table. “He looked just like that, too.”
Heather jerked away. “Dalton is not going to kiss me.” She peeked over her shoulder. “Are you?”
Dalton gave her a wink. “Not today, ma’am.”
“Arthur put your plate in the bucket and how about I serve some pie?”
Dalton finished his pie in four bites. “That was the best pie I think I’ve ever had.”
“Wait until you try Mama’s raisin pie.”
“I’ve never had that.”
“I made one last year. We had all this dried fruit, and I didn’t have a clue what to do with it. So, I made a pie.”
“You are resourceful.”
Heather refilled their cups. “I guess I had to be. We didn’t have supplies for a while and there was no way to get to Grand Platte. The stagecoaches didn’t run for nearly three months.”
