by Jo Grafford
Bert paused her sewing of one of the balloon’s long, double seams. “Maybe I could help.” She looked up at him with such a hopeful sparkle in her dark eyes that it made his knees weak.
In the effort to keep his mental equilibrium, he raised his brows at her. “At the inn?” Her offer surprised him, but it wasn’t a bad idea. Not a bad one at all. She was a hard worker. He’d just as soon hire someone he already knew than take a chance on a complete stranger. Ha! Who was he trying to fool? He enormously liked the idea of having Bert around more often. She was the perfect solution to his problem. Why hadn’t he thought of it himself?
“Why not?” She pursed her lips. “I don’t know a whole lot of things about running an inn, but how hard can it be? I did well in school, and I learn new things quickly. Plus, I’m in the way here most days.” She stared hard in the general direction of the Redburn mansion. “I don’t exactly fit in with the others. Jasmine and Abigail are, well, perfect ladies — the exact sort of folks Mr. and Mrs. Redburn want and deserve to host in their home.”
“I don’t agree with that one bit!” he shot back, incensed at the implication she wasn’t good enough to hobnob with the likes of the Redburns. “You made an honest agreement with Chance, and you’ve kept your word to him.” The very idea that she found herself wanting in comparison to her peers troubled him greatly.
She blinked at him, the normal glint in her eyes returning. “On the contrary, I’ve bungled every attempt he’s made to match me. I cannot dance, play the pianoforte, or carry a tune despite all the funds my parents sacrificed on music lessons. My grasp of French and Italian is pitiful at best, and my last attempt to paint a watercolor landscape ended in a complete disaster. I tripped,” she confessed in a small voice, “and sent the wet canvas, my paint tray, and water bowl flying into the next state.”
Kane snorted at the image her words conjured. She might not be able to paint a picture with watercolors, but she was rather clever at painting one with words. “I would have liked to have seen that,” he snickered.
She scowled at him and hunched her shoulders over the rough fabric to resume her sewing. “You’re laughing at me.”
“I may be laughing but not in the poking-fun sort of way.” He swallowed the rest of his mirth. “You possess a true gift for spinning stories. I am ever entertained in your presence.” Lord help him, he looked forward to every moment they spent together. In fact, he craved it. He always left her workshop in a better mood.
A faint smile perked up the edges of her lips. “I am glad I’ve managed to regale at least one person with the tales of my many shortcomings. Alas,” she sighed, “my gift for gab has not inspired a single offer of marriage.”
It wasn’t true. Guilt stabbed his gut. He’d broached the idea with Chance Redburn, himself, not more than three weeks ago. They’d shaken hands on the agreement; and as far as Chance knew, Kane was courting Bert. Perhaps it was wrong of him to keep such information from her, but who could blame a fellow for wanting a little encouragement from the woman in question before he bound himself to her for life? Most unfortunately, he’d made zero progress with her, romantically speaking, following their one almost-kiss that had ended with a punch in the gut.
“Poor Chance and Violet are surely ready to give up on me.” Bert viciously ripped out a stitch. “That’s why I spend so much time out here in the barn. It’s only a matter of time before they cut me loose.”
It was far from true. Her benefactors were already planning her wedding. Hating to hear her speak so ill of herself and knowing it was at least partly his fault, Kane kicked at a pebble on the floor. He sent it flying into the nearest wall with such a clatter it made her jump. “Maybe all you need is a change of scenery. If I take you up on your offer to come work for Griff and me, you’ll meet all sorts of new folks. Maybe the perfect man will come walking straight through the front door of the Black Barrel Inn.” Me. Every day. And maybe if they spent more time together, and maybe if she saw him wearing something besides his faded work clothes, she would finally start viewing him as a potential suitor.
“Then it’s decided.” She laid down her sewing and arched her back as if to work out a cramp. “How soon would you like me to begin?”
“Well, it depends.” Her puzzled look made him smile. “It’s a two-part offer, so you need to hear the rest of it before you agree.”
“Very well. I’m listening.” She clasped her hands in her lap and fell silent, dark brown eyes resting expectantly on him.
“Since I’ve been having so much trouble finding time to come to work with you here, I’d like you to consider moving the hot-air balloon project to the Black Barrel Inn.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “You want me to move the balloon from my workshop?”
“Pieces of it, at least,” he amended with a nod, wondering if she would refuse. She was mighty proud of her setup out here in the barn. It might not be as easy to entice her away from it. “The sewing, for instance, and the basket weaving. As soon as we finish each phase, we can always move that part back here to await the final assembly.” He held up a hand when she started to speak. “If you work at the front desk, there will be spare time between customers, sometimes significant amounts of it. There’s no reason you couldn’t pull out your sewing to work on the balloon during those times.”
She raised and lowered her shoulders. “I reckon I could do that.”
Good. One more hurdle was crossed. “I would pay you, of course. An honest day’s wage for an honest day’s work, while we eke out as much time as possible between tasks to work on your balloon. I suspect we’d get more done that way than we are now.”
Her dubious expression relaxed into a smile. “I don’t know who you’re trying to convince at this point, because I’m already in full agreement. Coming to work for you was my idea, remember?”
A splendid one, in his opinion. “If you do not mind, I’d like us to go inside and discuss it with the Redburns, as well.” He held out a hand to her. “It’s only right, since they’ve been so kind to you.” To us. Finally, he’d managed to do something that Chance and Violet would likely view as progress in their courtship.
She used his hand to pull herself to her feet, and he found himself in no hurry to let go of it. Without waiting for her permission, he tucked her arm through his and tugged her towards the exit door. Her warm fingers felt good curled around his forearm. “Would you like to tell them about your job offer, or would you like me to tell them?”
She wrinkled her nose up at him. “I’m not a nervous ninny. Well, maybe I am on the dance floor,” she corrected with a grimace, “but not in matters like these. I would be most happy to share our news with Chance and Violet. Good gracious, Kane!” She wrapped her other hand around his arm and squeezed. “In the event I end up not marrying at all, this job would at least make it possible for me to stay in Bent.”
His heart shuddered at the mere thought of her leaving town. He covered his inner quaking by arching a brow at her. “For one thing, I highly doubt some buck won’t come along and snap up your hand in marriage. It’s going to happen, Bert.” He bent his head over hers to meet her gaze directly as he spoke. “Mark my words.”
She flushed prettily and lowered her eyes.
He gave her arm a little shake. “But tell me this. Why in tarnation would you want to settle in Bent?” It was a small town, for crying out loud! Much smaller than what she was accustomed to back in Boston.
Her nymph-like features took on a dreamy cast as she swung her cascade of hair over her shoulder. “I like the wide openness of this town, I suppose. Makes it easier for a body to breathe.” As if to emphasize her point, she drew a deep, satisfying breath. “All this clean, country air and quietness. All this space.” She flung out an arm. “Plenty enough room to fly our balloon when it’s finished.” Her eyes took on a sparkle as she warmed to the topic.
Kane adored the softness that crept into her features as she spoke of the things that made her happy. “I never imag
ined myself staying here forever,” he admitted. “I always dreamed of pulling up roots, hitting the road, and seeing more of the country.” He wanted to visit California and putter around a few gold-rush towns. Next, he wanted to mosey his way down to Texas and get his fill of the wild longhorns roaming the mountain ranges. Then there was all that northern territory, places like Wyoming and Wisconsin. There were a vast number of places to be explored before he cocked up his toes.
She looked puzzled. “What about your ranch and the inn? Don’t your siblings depend on you?”
He clenched his jaw. “That’s the only reason I’m still in Bent.” Even though it meant he was missing out on indulging his cravings for adventure.
Bert turned laughing eyes at him. “Good gracious! You make it sound as if you have to leave home to see the world, and that’s far from true. You can travel a few weeks at a time here and there. Mercy, you can take off and travel until you don’t feel like traveling any more! Then come back. Home will always be waiting for you.”
Home. Her words resonated with him. Somehow, he’d never considered the fact he could have more of what he wanted without giving up what he already had. “You may be right.” Griff was here. Paisley and Train were here, and their firstborn would soon arrive and join the family. And now Bert was in his life. The thought struck him that he didn’t like the idea of leaving her anymore than he liked the idea of leaving his siblings. As of late, home seemed to be wherever Bert was. The thought gave him pause. I must be falling in love with her.
“I know I’m right,” she retorted. “Why are you looking at me that way?”
“Which way?” He hoped he didn’t look as dazed as he felt. Lord help me, I’m a man in love. It was both unexpected and hopeless. He was fast falling for a woman who didn’t have any interest in marrying and hadn’t once indicated she was the least interested in him in any way other than a partner on their balloon project.
“Like you want something from me.” Her voice sounded a trifle breathless.
“I do.” His tone was gravelly. Very much, lass. “I want a new employee.”
“You have me.” She sounded surprised.
How I wish! He wanted more than her employment. He wanted her witty conversation, her ready smile, her industrious mind, and her prickly heart. He wanted all of her.
Chance Redburn wasn’t at home, but Violet received their news with a wide smile lighting her kind features. “Dear, me!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands. “This is wonderful news, indeed. I cannot wait to share it with my husband.”
To Kane’s consternation, Bert’s face fell.
“What is wrong, love?” Violet reached for her shoulders.
“May I continue to stay here?”
“May you what? Speak up, love? You know what I’ve said about proper young ladies and mumbling.”
Bert yanked her face up. It was flaming red. “May I continue to stay here in your home?” She swallowed. “While I go to work for the Jamesons?”
“But of course!” Violet’s voice and features twisted in shock. “Wherever else would you stay until you’re married?”
“I thought. That is…” Bert shook her head and tried again. “I was worried that maybe you’re getting tired of fooling with the likes of me.”
“Oh, sweetheart!” Violet’s mouth twisted downward. “Wherever did you get such a nonsensical idea? You may stay as long as you wish.”
“But that’s impossible!” Bert spluttered. “What if I don’t ever marry? I’ll eventually need to find my own place.”
“You will,” the young woman said gently, leaning in to squeeze her shoulders in a tight hug. Her knowing gaze met Kane’s over the top of Bert’s head. “All in good time, love. We can speak more about this later. In private, if you like.”
Bert disengaged herself from the woman’s embrace. “You’re welcome to say whatever you want to say in front of Kane. I speak my mind to him all the time. He’s not any more interested in marrying than I am, so there is no pressure to, ah…try harder when I’m with him.”
“Oh, dear,” Violet murmured, shooting an agonized glance in his direction.
So much for fooling the Redburns into thinking he was making romantic progress with Bert! She’d utterly exposed him, making his chest constrict with guilt all over again. Clearly, he’d failed to spend the proper amount of time with her that it took to woo a woman. Well, that was about to change, starting now. Bert wasn’t the only one who needed to try harder.
It was past time to start piling on the Jameson charm, whether she was ready for it or not. He straightened his shoulders. “I’m glad you feel like you can say what’s on your heart when we’re together, my friend. I pray it will always be so between us.”
Her lips parted at his abrupt change of tone. She drew in a quick breath. “It’s best that way between work partners, don’t you think? Especially now that I’m about to become employed by you.”
“Especially now,” he agreed tenderly, wishing he dared say more. Instead, he settled for caressing her with his gaze.
Her cheeks turned a bright pink. “Very well.” She ducked her head and made a beeline for the pocket doors leading from the parlor. “If you’ll excuse me a few minutes, I need to go change out of my trousers.”
“Oh, please do!” Violet eyed the garment in extreme distaste. “La, but it’s disgraceful the way you parade around in those horrible things!”
Kane grinned at Bert’s slender, retreating figure. “I like them. They suit her.”
His words earned him a quick glance from Bert over her shoulder as she skipped from the room. Her gaze held a hint of mischief that made his heart race.
Violet shuddered. “Please do not encourage her, Kane. She’s wild enough as it is. What with her insistence on swinging hammers and staying holed up in that workshop of hers all hours of the day and night.”
Oh, but he intended to do exactly that! He’d never met a woman he wished to encourage more.
Bert returned downstairs in a record short time. This time she was wearing a white blouse with a blue and buttery yellow striped skirt that made him think of a sailor pulling watch on deck.
“You look lovely, Miss Langston.” He adopted a formal demeanor despite his work clothing and bowed low in front of her. He offered his arm to her. “May I escort you to the Black Barrel Inn, m’lady?”
“You may.” She demurely placed her hand in his. Her lips twitched as if fighting a chuckle, and color infused her cheeks.
It was easier than he imagined disrupting her calm and knocking her just a wee bit off her mental balance. All it took was a few compliments and a flirtatious look here and there. He was enjoying the results they produced.
Except for the fact his behavior rendered their conversation during their stroll to the inn awkward and strained, making him want to kick himself for piling on too much charm too soon. Good gravy! He didn’t want to scare her away, altogether.
“I am grateful for your offer of assistance with the inn, Bert.” At least, that claim didn’t feel awkward. Griff and Paisley were going to be delighted. “Paisley will be forever grateful to you for stepping into her shoes while she is away.”
They were more than delighted, as it turned out. They were ecstatic. Paisley waddled out from behind the counter and shooed Kane away. “I’ll handle her training. Nobody knows better than me how to keep my two brothers straight and this inn running in tiptop shape,” she declared with an adoring glint in her blue-gray eyes.
Knowing it was true, Kane raised his hands and backed away. He was grateful to Paisley for her willingness to train Bert, though he resented every minute it forced him to spend away from her.
Later that evening, he bemoaned the fact to Griff while they were brushing down their horses. “I’ve hardly enjoyed five straight minutes alone with her today. How am I ever going to earn her affections, if I can’t scrape up more time to spend together?”
Griff paused his brushing and adopted an arrested expression. “She’s re
ally gotten under your skin, hasn’t she?”
Kane nodded, feeling the heat crawl up his neck. “She suits me, Griff.” It was an understatement. Bert more than suited him; she was the missing piece of his heart. All his teen years and adult life he’d shied away from prissy debutantes. They were like perfect cookies shaped from the same cutter, and they had one thing only on their minds — trapping a man into marriage. Bert was different. She was clever and talented, a woman not afraid to follow her true passions when it came to inventing and air travel. The big question was…what would it take to redirect some of that marvelous, unbridled passion in his direction?
He shuddered at the thought of that happy event, however unlikely it was.
Griff treated him to another sideways glance. “I’ve never seen you this unsettled by a creature of the female persuasion. What’s the trouble?”
He clenched his jaw. “She’s not interested in much outside her inventions.”
“Then you need to change the game. Raise the stakes, brother.” Griff bent to turn up the wick of his lantern. More light flickered into the horse stall where they worked.
“What do you mean?” he inquired cautiously, instinctively knowing he might not like his brother’s answer.
Griff made a scoffing sound and swiped the air with his hand. “Bah! You’ve treated this whole courtship with the caution of a granny, making secret deals behind her back and the like. It’s time to make your intentions clear to the one person in the equation who matters — her! So you’ve engaged her intellectual interests by playing along with her ballooning interests? I say it’s past time to do something that will capture her heart, as well.”
“Like what?” Kane raged in frustration. “I’ve tried sweet talk and adoring looks. I almost kissed her once. What else is there to do?” He felt like the lowliest of fools for even having to ask the question.
“Something big. Like hosting that hot-air balloon race she wants so badly to compete in.” Griff waggled his brows. “Right here in Bent, Colorado.”
