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“Might I offer grace?” Aaron saw the question had taken her by surprise. The look on her face even seemed a little embarrassed.
“Of course.” She put her fork down and bowed her head.
Aaron prayed blessings on the food and on their trip, then added special prayers for Isabella’s parents and aunt. When he concluded, Lupe murmuredamen, but Isabella remained silent. She stared at her food for a moment, then reached for the cream. She stirred a generous amount into her coffee, then put the small pitcher aside and reached for the sugar.
Aaron took a sip of his coffee black. He preferred itthat way and knew from the way the Santa Fe had set up their arrangements with the Harvey Houses that the coffee would taste the same all along the railroad. They shipped the water in special tanker cars from back east in order to keep the flavor free of the minerals that were so prevalent in the West.
“Good coffee,” he commented.
Isabella had already moved on to her food. Aaron had to smile. She’d ordered the same thing he had. He thought about commenting on it but figured she’d stop eating and order something different if he did.
Between bites of ham and eggs, Aaron allowed himself to glance at the beautiful young woman who graced his table. She was stunning—a real beauty. Her black hair and eyes were reminders of her father’s Mexican heritage. She had chosen to wear a salmon-colored skirt and coat with an ivory lace blouse that she’d trimmed with a cameo at the neck. The color suited her complexion perfectly. She was perfection.
“Is there a reason you’re staring at me? Have I left food on my lapel?” Her right brow arched ever so slightly.
“I was actually considering whether you looked more like your mother or your father.”
She shrugged. “I favor my father’s mother, if you must know. There is a painting of her at the house in California that strangers presume is me.”
Uncertain what else to say, Aaron slathered butter on his toast. He wondered what he might discuss without causing her to become angry. Should he focus on the house in California, or would that only make her melancholy? Should he ask about the young man who saw her off at the station? Perhaps tell her about his job with the Santa Fe? Nothing seemed exactly right, so he said nothing.
Lupe excused herself to see to some laundry, leaving Aaron and Isabella alone. Aaron thought he heard Isabella sigh.
“Are you all right?”
“I am. Why do you ask?”
“I thought you sighed.”
“I did, but it was no signal to you that something was wrong.”
“I see.” Aaron shrugged. “I suppose a person can sigh for no reason, but generally something prompts it.”
Isabella placed her napkin on the table. “Even if there were, I wouldn’t mention it to you.”
“Why not? Your father sent me to see to your needs.”
“Then return me to California, for that is where I need to be.” She looked at him for a moment, then gave her own shrug. “You see? You cannot aid me in this matter. I long for home.”
“Is Silver Veil not home as well? After all, that’s where your parents are located, and if I’m correct in my mathematics, you lived there longer than you have in California.”
“Physical presence doesn’t always constitute where one’s heart resides, Mr. Bailey.” She reached for the pot of coffee. “Would you care for more?”
He nodded and extended his cup. Isabella poured until the cup was full, then did the same for herself, stopping about an inch from the top. Once again, she added a lot of cream and some sugar.
“Was there nothing about Silver Veil that you enjoyed?” He knew it was probably a dangerous question but found he couldn’t resist.
Isabella surprised him with her answer. “I quite loved the house Father built. The adobe kept everything so nice and cool in the summer, and warm in the winter. I remember thefireplace in the music room. I’m sure there will be a large fire to welcome me home.”
“It is a very nice fireplace.” He wanted to admit it was a favorite spot of his but figured it would only offend her.
The porter appeared with his cart and a smile from ear to ear. “I see you enjoyed your breakfast.”
“We did, Abraham. It was just about the best I’ve had in some time,” Aaron declared.
The porter gathered up the dishes, then brushed crumbs from the tablecloth before folding it up. He removed it from the table and disappeared out the door before anything more could be said. This seemed to be Isabella’s cue to move back to her throne at the window. She rose gracefully, and Aaron got to his feet as well. He’d not show bad manners, even if she was difficult.
“Will you be spending every waking moment with me?” she asked, her voice edged with sarcasm.
