Her Silent Burden_Seeing Ranch series

by Florence Linnington

  “I have to... get back to Outpost.”

  Wakefield’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you had everything set up for the day.”

  Noah cleared his throat. Wakefield had seen the saloon earlier that morning when he had come into town to tend to something at the hotel. Lying to him was probably pointless.

  Wakefield was Noah’s closest and longest friend. When it came to the two of them, secrets didn’t stay hidden for long.

  “I want to be there in case the new schoolteacher needed something,” Noah said.

  Thea and Wakefield both gazed blankly back at him.

  “She’s... special,” Noah said.

  “Ah.” Thea’s eyebrows rose.

  Wakefield slapped his knee and laughed, and Aria reached for the flask.

  “Is she pretty?” Thea asked, her eyes sparkling as she moved the flask away from the baby’s grasp.

  “Very.” Noah’s whole body heated up at the thought of Rosalie. “I don’t know her situation for sure, but she didn’t bring a husband here with her, and she’s not wearing a ring...”

  “Then she’s single,” Wakefield said. “What do you mean, you don’t know her situation?”

  “She does have a son. It seems she might have had a husband at one point, but who knows. Maybe he’s not entirely gone. I don’t want to step on any toes.”

  Wakefield shook his head. “Whoever this husband was, if he didn’t come here, he’s no one to be worried about. And you said she isn’t wearing a ring.”

  “Right.”

  “Conversation done. Call on her. Ask her to a picnic or a walk.” Wakefield grinned. “Look at that. A pretty schoolteacher, strolling right into town.”

  Thea bounced Aria on her knee. “How old is her son?”

  “I don’t know,” Noah answered. “Nine? Ten?”

  “Hmm.” Thea gazed out the window.

  “What’s that?” Noah asked.

  “I was thinking... if you really want to impress Miss Flinn... get to know both her and her son. Do something with the both of them.”

  “But he needs to get to know her first,” Wakefield said. “Just the two of them.”

  “He should also get to know the two of them as a family,” Thea said. “When you court a woman with children, she is not the only person you are getting.”

  Noah looked to Aria. “What do you think I should do, huh?”

  “Ba,” Aria said. “Bam glah.”

  “That’s right,” Wakefield said, rubbing her cheek. “She agrees with me.”

  Thea rolled her eyes. “You do whatever you feel is best, Noah. I am glad a woman you are interested in has shown up in town.”

  “I’m gonna have to get a look at her,” Wakefield said.

  “Wakefield,” Thea chastised, “what does that mean?”

  “Uh, nothing dear.” He cleared his throat.

  “You want to go and see how pretty she is, is that it?”

  “Aw, no one is as beautiful as you,” he said, looping an arm over her shoulders.

  Thea tried to frown, but a smile won out, and she ended up laughing. “Stop being silly.”

  Noah looked outside, feeling like he was intruding upon an intimate moment. So quickly, Thea and Wakefield had seemed to forget he was even there. They’d gotten sucked into their own world, lost in a happy place that belonged only to them.

  Noah wanted that. Really wanted that. In a way he never had in the past.

  And maybe, God willing, he’d soon have it.

  Chapter 6

  stomach dancing a jig

  6. Rosalie

  Chapter six

  Rosalie ran her hands over the smooth oak desk. It had been made with curved edges and finished off with a nice, shiny varnish. Whoever had crafted it, had taken their time.

  And they had done it for her.

  Turning, Rosalie looked at her new school and sighed happily. It was only her second day in Whiteridge, and though she had initially been a bit shocked at the smallness of the town, the warm feeling she felt about her new home had only grown.

  Never before had Rosalie felt so welcome in a place. Wisconsin had been her home, yes, and she had known many of her neighbors her whole life. But after Jeb’s departure, everything changed. People were nice to her--too nice sometimes--but Rosalie found she had a disdain for the kindness. She felt they pitied her. And how could they not?

  But here in Wyoming, she was starting over. Back in Wisconsin, anyone could have taken her teaching job, and she supposed someone else had. In Whiteridge, there were no other candidates for the schoolhouse. Only Rosalie could fill that position.

  With all the eagerness of a girl on her first day of school, Rosalie had risen that morning and walked down the road with Jacob, ready to fulfill the next portion of her destiny. The school, as she had found, lacked for nothing. Pencils. Desks. Books. A chalkboard. It was all there.

  She wondered whether or not her students would have slates. In Wisconsin, only about half the children had been able to afford them. The others practiced arithmetic on the chalkboard.

  The back door opened, and Jacob walked in, pushing his hat back. He was sweating profusely, his hair sticking to his forehead.

  “What did you get into?” Rosalie asked, looking him up and down and finding his hands and arms dirty.

  “There’s a creek back behind the school, Mother.”

  “Please keep your clothes clean, Jacob. It’s our first full day here.”

  “It’s Saturday. There’s no school.”

  “Still.” Rosalie’s lips pursed, and she decided to hold her tongue. Jacob was very curious and eager to explore everything. It was what Rosalie loved about her child the most.

  What she did not always love was how that wild nature could cause him to lose all sense of everything else. Forgetting to come home for dinner or crawling under fences and ripping his new pants all because he was following a fox to her nest or digging in the earth for quartz were commonplace for Jacob.

  “Is the creek nice?” she asked, deciding to flip the mood and be personable. No doubt Jacob was still adjusting to their new home. It would be a terrible time to create animosity.

  “Real nice. There are lots of rocks there, and I saw some tracks, but I’m not sure what they were. Maybe Mr. Hahn can tell me.”

  At the mention of Noah Hahn, Rosalie’s heart beat a little faster.

  “Perhaps,” she said, “but we don’t want to bother him just for that. Perhaps we will see him at church tomorrow.”

  Jacob pulled a leaf from his trousers pocket and inspected it. “They have a church here?”

  “Of course they have a church here.”

  “I mean, there’s no actual chapel, Mother.”

  “They’re planning on building one, remember? Till then, they have it outside.”

  Jacob thoughtfully scratched his neck. “That doesn’t sound fun in the winter. I’m going to collect some more leaves for my scrapbook.”

  Just as quickly as he segued the topic, he was gone, departing out the back door once more. Rosalie barely had time to draw another breath when there was a knock at the front door.

  Quickly smoothing her hair, Rosalie walked down the aisle between the students’ desks. She had met Mr. Zimmerman that morning in person, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Highmore, who ran the restaurant in the hotel. Other than those three, she had observed only a few other people in town, and so she wondered who this could be.

  Unless...

  Rosalie’s heart did a flip as she opened the door. Her hope was fulfilled, for Noah Hahn stood on the schoolhouse’s top step, his hat in his hand.

  “Miss Flinn.” He said her name like it was the sweetest one in all the world, and Rosalie smiled instantly.

  “Good morning,” she answered. “Please, come in.”

  “Thank you.”

  Even the sound of Noah’s boots on the hard floor brought Rosalie pleasure. As he strode ahead of her, she allowed herself a moment to study his figure. His sleeves were rolled u
p today, showing off strong arms.

  What would it feel like to be wrapped in those arms? To be held close to his firm chest? To have his heartbeat thudding in her ear and to know, no matter what, she was safe?

  Noah turned to face her, and heat burned Rosalie’s cheeks. Though no one else was privy to her thoughts, simply indulging in such desire around Noah embarrassed her. What’s more, it completely surprised her. The thoughts had seem to come out of nowhere.

  “How are you settling in?” Noah asked. “Is Whiteridge treating you all right?”

  “Oh, yes. Quite. I believe we will both be very happy here.”

  Noah smiled, and Rosalie’s knees weakened. “You have a fine boy there,” he said.

  Rosalie glanced out the window, at where Jacob squatted beneath a tree, rearranging a row of leaves.

  “He admires you,” she told Noah. “It appears your tracking skills left quite an impression.”

  Noah chuckled and looked down at his hat. “I did my best... I can teach him some, if he wants.”

  “I doubt there’s nothing he wants more in the world right now.”

  Noah’s gaze flicked upward. “Is that right?”

  Even though they were talking about Jacob, there was something about the tone of Noah’s voice that made Rosalie feel this conversation was really about the two of them. Noah was trying to get some kind of secret message across, to show Rosalie that...

  That what?

  Was she only being romantic here? Imagining Noah might fancy her?

  “Will you be at church tomorrow?” Noah asked, pulling Rosalie out of her brief inner monologue.

  “Yes,” she answered. She folded her hands in front of her, then, feeling awkward, set one on the back of a chair.

  “So will I. Would you... uh...” Noah fiddled with his hat some. “Would you and Jacob like to have Sunday dinner with me afterward? I live right over the saloon. I think I told you that. I know it’s not the most ideal home around here, but I have a real kitchen, and years of bachelorhood have taught me how to cook.”

  Butterflies fluttered through Rosalie’s chest and up into her throat. Noah wanted to have Sunday dinner with her!

  Perhaps it was merely his way of welcoming her to town, and he did not have any romantic intentions at all, but no matter. She would allow herself to indulge in the fantasy of him wanting her, if only for a while.

  “That would be wonderful,” Rosalie said. “Thank you very much.”

  Noah’s eyes lit up. “Great.”

  “Is there anything I can bring?”

  “No. Nothing at all. I can’t wait to see you.”

  Rosalie bit the inside of her bottom lip, afraid of smiling too much. “Thank you again for the invitation.”

  Noah’s gaze lingered on hers. “It’s my pleasure.”

  A sweet warmth trickled from Rosalie’s head down to her toes. Noah put his hat back on. “I’m afraid I need to get to the saloon. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Yes,” Rosalie agreed, going to the door and opening it for him. “Have a wonderful day.”

  “You too, Miss Flinn.”

  Call me Rosaline was on the tip of her tongue, but he was already striding across the school’s front yard. Rosalie leaned in the doorway, watching him go, her skin tingling and her stomach dancing a jig.

  Was this what it was like to fancy a man? It had been so long, Rosalie could not properly remember. She hoped so, though. She hoped she was right about Noah’s feelings for her. She hoped he was as grand of a man as she suspected.

  And she desperately, wildly hoped that, whatever happened next, it would be nothing like all her experiences before.

  Chapter 7

  a lot to be grateful for

  7. Noah

  Chapter seven

  Noah shook the rug out in the bright, midday air, then rushed inside to set it back on the floor. With anxiety, he looked around the front room. He’d cleaned it within an inch of its life the night before, staying up till three AM, after the saloon closed.

  Even now, with the windows sparkling and the scent of the wildflowers on the table filling the air, he wondered if it was good enough. Noah had never lived with a woman, save his ma. Maybe his cleaning job wasn’t good enough. Maybe the same held true for his cooking job.

  “Shoot,” Noah spat.

  This was a bad idea. What had he been thinking, inviting Rosalie and Jacob over to his home? In less than fifteen minutes, Rosalie would see his incompetence at most things.

  The smell of sweet potatoes burning hit his nose, confirming Noah’s worst fears. Running through the front room and into the kitchen, he dashed to the cook stove. The potatoes! How had he forgotten he’d left them in the skillet?

  Their bottoms were charred black now, a heavy smoke curling up from the pan. Grabbing his mitt, Noah removed the skillet from the cook stove and opened up a window.

  He’d left church early, right after the sermon and before the last hymnals, so he could get a head start on Sunday dinner. Now, it seemed his early prepping had done no good.

  His jaw hardening, Noah pulled the roast chicken from out of the cook stove and cut into it. Dry as sawdust.

  He hadn’t been exaggerating when he told Rosalie he knew a little something about cooking. What had happened was he’d gotten distracted. He’d allowed himself to think about Rosalie while preparing dinner, and that’s where he’d gone and messed up.

  She’d looked so lovely that morning, wearing a yellow bonnet that made her eyes shine. They’d caught gazes across the clearing, and when she smiled Noah’s way he thought he’d done died and gone to Heaven.

  Think, Noah, think.

  There had to be some way to fix this calamity.

  And, then, he had it. Hiding the ruined food in the cupboard, he jogged down the stairs and to the hotel.

  Ten minutes later, he walked swiftly back to his apartment, Mrs. Highmore at his side. She carried a casserole, and he a big bowl of mashed potatoes.

  “I can’t thank you enough, Mrs. Highmore,” Noah said.

  She smiled at him. “No thanks are needed, Noah. These are our new neighbors. Of course, they must have a nice welcome.”

  Noah felt slightly sheepish about running to the hotel’s cook for help, but he was a desperate man. And desperate times called for desperate measures. This was his chance to make an impression on Rosalie, and he couldn’t mess that up.

  “Do you mind if we, ah, keep this to ourselves?” Noah asked at his door, once they’d put the food on the table.

  Mrs. Highmore winked knowingly. “Certainly. I wouldn’t dream of letting this slip.”

  Did she know Noah fancied Rosalie? How could she?

  Maybe Mrs. Highmore was just good at reading the signs, and he was good at giving them away.

  Not a minute had passed after Mrs. Highmore’s departure when there was a knock on the door. Opening it, Noah found Rosalie and Jacob, both still dressed in their Sunday clothes.

  “Hello,” Noah exhaled, the very sight of Rosalie knocking the air out of him.

  “Hello,” Rosalie smiled back.

  “Come right in and have a seat. Would you like some lemonade?”

  As his guests settled in, Noah poured three tall glasses of cold lemonade and brought them to the table. Rosalie had taken her bonnet off, and Noah couldn’t help but stare for a moment as she fiddled with some hair trailing down the back of her neck.

  “Mr. Hahn, this looks amazing,” she exclaimed.

  “Thank you,” Noah answered, praying the window had been open long enough to dispel the burnt smell.

  “A man who can cook…” Rosalie spread her napkin across her lap. “It is very impressive.”

  “I try my best.” Noah took a plate and began piling it with casserole and potatoes for Rosalie. “Hopefully, it’s good enough.”

  “I’m sure it will be.” Rosalie’s gaze lingered on his, and Noah nearly dropped a spoonful of potatoes on the table.

  Jacob loosened his bow tie. “Bu
t the lady from the hotel helped, right?” Rosalie’s brows pinched together. “Who?”