“If you like to read, you should take advantage of the books in the bunkhouse.”
“I have been. It’s quite a collection. I’m currently reacquainting myself with Mary Shelley’sFrankenstein.” He took a step closer until he was looking down at her face. And such a lovely face it was, too, especially right now with her cheeks stained pink. “It’s always been one of my favorites, though I will admit I’m enjoying the dime novels as well.”
“Mine, too.” Her voice was almost breathless now, and so much sultrier than before if that were possible. Like the expression in her eyes, it was filled with…what? Anticipation? Longing? He couldn’t tell, but he could listen to her all day long…and longer.
“Do you read to the children often?”
“Not as often as I’d like. This was my first opportunity in a long while.” She smiled up at him, her eyes glowing with the love she had for the children. “They seem to enjoy it. I do as well.”
And why wouldn’t they enjoy it? He certainly did, and for a moment, he was a little jealous of the children and the time she spent with them. He wanted to spend more time with her, too. Their mornings in the riding ring didn’t seem to be enough. He planned to remedy that. “Do you have any plans for the afternoon?”
“You mean what am I planning to do now?” Once again, she removed the baby’s fingers from her earring, pressed her lips against his palm and blew out, making a funny noise that produced giggles from the boy.
Jake watched with fascination, a chuckle building in his chest. He tamped it down as his gaze swept over her. “Well, yes.”
“Work on the ranch never stops, as you know.” She smiled, and his heart gave a quick lurch, then started pounding again—hard. That had never happened to him before either, and he took a small step back, his mind concentrating on his reaction, instead of her words.
“I have plenty of mending to do. Or I could help Hilde in the kitchen. She’s making her famouslebkuchentoday.”
“Lebkuchen? Is that what I smell? What is it?”
“It’s a honey-sweetened cookie with spices and nuts. Hilde made them for me when I was young, and now she makes them for the children. They love them and she loves making them.”
“I’d like to try one.” He picked up the blanket from the ground, shook it a bit, then folded it, but didn’t know what to do with it, so he just held onto it.
“I’ll make sure to send some out to the bunkhouse when they’re done.” She looked at him, her eyes wide in her face, full of hope and promise, and for a second—a lifetime—he couldn’t think of anything else he’d rather see. And then his gaze dropped to her smile, and he changed his mind. He wouldn’t mind seeing that smile for the rest of his life.
“What about you? Are you finished with your chores?”
“As it happens, I am. At least, until everyone comes in for the night. I thought I’d take a walk.”
“Where to?”
“I heard there’s a nice spot where the river bends. My bunkmates tell me it’s a good place to fish or just sit beneath the trees and while away an hour or two.” He looked down at his sweaty state. “Or wash up.”
“I know the place well. It’s wherePequeña Casais.”
He didn’t know much Spanish, but he was picking up a word or two here and there. “The little house?”
“Yes. It’s the original homestead. When the Silva family first came to this valley, that was the house they built. After time, and as the family grew, they built this house.” She gestured to the two-story structure beside them. “As long as you’re heading that way, you could pick some blackberries for pies.”
Flower rubbed up against his legs, her purrs loud, as if she was trying to tell him something—like here is your opportunity to spend a little time with Evie outside of the riding ring. The fanciful thought pleased him. He glanced at the cat then at her. “Would you like to come with me? I don’t really know the way.”
She drew in her breath and that smile, the one he was so enchanted by, appeared. “That would be lovely.”
“I’ll meet you back here in fifteen minutes?”
She nodded. “Yes. Fifteen minutes.” She hefted the child more securely in her arms then took the blanket from him and headed toward the house. He could hear her talking to the baby as she laid the blanket on the small table on the patio. She had reverted back to that husky sing-song voice, and it filled his head.
Jake waited until the door closed, then left the garden. Grabbing the wheelbarrow, he headed toward the shed behind the barn, the cats and dog following behind him. As he raised his arms to hang the pitchfork on the hook, he caught a whiff of himself. And here, he’d been thinking it was the compost pile that stunk.
It wasn’t.
He had fifteen minutes to make himself presentable and remove the stench. He left the tool shed, removed his shirt, and headed toward the bunkhouse and the barrel of water. He dunked his head and came up sputtering then used his discarded shirt to wash himself off, rubbing extra hard under his arms. Too bad he didn’t have time to take a proper bath.
“No, you can’t come with me,” he said quite clearly to the animals as he let himself into the bunkhouse. It was empty at this time of day—his bunkmates, including Grub, were out in the summer pasture with the horses and cattle, though Grub would be returning soon to start supper. He grabbed a clean shirt from his trunk and slipped it on, ran a brush through his wet hair and left the bunkhouse to wait for Evie, anticipation singing through his veins. He smiled as the parade of cats and one old dog followed him to the garden.
“You go to sleep now.” The baby reached for her earring as she put him in his crib, babbling to himself as he did so, words he was just beginning to learn. Mama was quite clear. So was Papa and horse. There were other words and phrases he used for what he wanted. At eleven months old, he was learning to speak much sooner than the other children, but that didn’t surprise her.
