by Jo Grafford
“Are you serious?” The idea was so staggering that Kane nearly dropped his brush.
Griff spread his hands. “Why not?”
Kane stared. Bless the fellow, but he couldn’t think of one good reason why not.
“We could post newspaper advertisements in the surrounding counties. Not only would it be entertaining for our citizens, it would also bring some much-needed tourist dollars to our local businesses.”
“Right you are.” The more he pondered it, the more he liked the idea. They owned the only inn in town, though other businesses could easily let out rooms and loft areas. Tourist traffic would fill every one of them to capacity. Yes! The idea was perfect. He couldn’t wait to tell Bert when she arrived at work the next day. He would enjoy watching her face light up.
“Let’s do it. Let’s host a hot-air balloon race.” He hadn’t the faintest idea how to get started on such a huge undertaking nor when he was going to find the time to make it all happen.
“I’ll help. As will Train and Paisley,” Griff assured. “And now you have Bert on board, too.”
And now I have Bert. He grinned in the deepening shadows. Now I have Bert, and I’m never going to let her go.
Chapter 6: Two’s A Team
Bert
Bert frowned at her reflection in the mirror the next morning. Nothing she did seemed right today. She’d never in her life second-guessed herself this many times in the space of an hour. She’d piled her hair up, then unpinned it and shaken it down when she remembered the way Kane’s slate-hued eyes had lingered on the waves tumbling around her shoulders yesterday. She’d started off wearing the serviceable navy gown she’d brought with her from Boston, then traded it in for the much sassier, white summer suit Violet had lent her for the purposes of courting.
Except you and Kane are not courting! Blowing out her breath in agitation, Bert gave herself a highly irritated look in the mirror. They’d made it clear to each other at the beginning of their working relationship that neither was interested in marriage. It was the biggest reason they were such good friends. It was why they worked so well together. There was none of the usual pressure between them like there was with other couples — no obligation to be anything other than themselves, no underlying tension from attempts to impress each other, nothing but business.
Why then did she feel so disgruntled at the thought of facing him this morning? Was it the fact that he was now her employer? Would he lord his new status over her? Would it disrupt the balance of their partnership on their balloon project?
“Mercy! What has you looking like a veritable thundercloud this morning, Bertie?” Jasmine sailed through the open door of her bedroom, smelling like a field of flowers.
Bert dropped her hairbrush on the dresser with a clatter. “It’s my first day of work at the Black Barrel Inn, and I do not know what will be expected of me. How to dress, how to act, what to say to their customers.” She leaned on the antique, white-washed dresser with both hands and closed her eyes. Her venture into the world of inn-keeping had sounded like a marvelous idea yesterday. Not so much today.
“You? Worried?” Jasmine made a scoffing sound. “I know you don’t enjoy dancing and getting all fancied up, but you’re quite the conversationalist.”
“When I remember my manners,” Bert muttered, squeezing her eyes more tightly shut.
“So remember them.” Jasmine’s matter-of-fact tone made it sound like such a simple task that it irked.
Bert tried. She really did, but sometimes she got caught up in the moment and things didn’t go as planned. Other times, unforeseen events like tripping and falling occurred. I could use a little grace today, Lord.
“Did you say something?” Abigail’s voice was so close to Bert’s ear that Bert jolted and opened her eyes.
Abigail was standing beside her in the mirror, studying her critically.
“I was talking to the good Lord,” Bert muttered. “And hoping He can spare a moment for the likes of me today.”
Abigail made a face at her. “You need to stop doing that.”
“Talking to the Lord?” Bert grinned. Of all the reprimands she’d ever received, that one was the most surprising.
“Of, course not! I’m referring to the way you always seem to have something disparaging to say about my friend, Bertha Langston. Perhaps, you’ve heard of her? She prefers to be called Bert.”
“Ah.” Bert blinked. “Well, I suppose it’s because I can’t ever seem to measure up.”
“To what?” Abigail demanded.
Bert had to think a moment. “Others’ expectations of me.” She shrugged. “I’ve been like this as long as I can remember. My parents wrung their hands daily over all the scrapes I got myself into while growing up, and it’s the same here at the Redburns. Though they’re as kind as they can be about it, I know I’m forever disappointing them.”
“Why, I happen to not agree with your conclusion one bit!” Abigail scowled at her in the mirror. “When Violet corrects something we do or offers suggestions, she is simply molding and polishing us for married life. Considering how many brides she and Chance have managed to match with grooms in the past few weeks, I’d say they’re pretty proud of the lot of us.”
“Except for—”
“Don’t say it!” Jasmine snapped as she sauntered into the room. “You heard the girl, and she’s right. Violet and Chance are proud of us all, and that includes you.”
“But I haven’t—”
“Neither have we,” Abigail reminded softly. “All three of us are not yet married, and I do not believe for one second that Chance and Violet are disappointed in us because of it. These things take time, Bert. All we can do is prepare ourselves. The rest is up to God. His will. His timing.”
“What if I never find the right match?” Bert asked desperately. It was easy for Abigail and Jasmine to pooh-pooh her concerns. They were so pretty and ladylike and everything else that she wasn’t. They had nothing to worry about.
Abigail spun away from her. “I refuse to carry on such a silly conversation with someone who has a beau head-over-heels in love with her.”
Bert stared. “I do?” And swallowed. And stared some more. “Well, don’t hold out on me! Who?” Was Chance going to make her and Rafe take another turn “in the pen,” as he liked to put it?
“As if you don’t know!” Jasmine sounded miffed.
“Please tell me,” Bert pleaded. “I believe I’ve proven I’m not very skilled at managing what few callers the Redburns have arranged for me. I don’t want to even think about what might happen during an unscheduled call from a prospective suitor.”
“There you go again,” Abigail scolded. “Making yourself sound as pitiful as possible when you have one of the handsomest men in town bowing and scraping to please you every day.”
Every day? Why, the only gentlemen she hobnobbed with on a daily basis was Chance Redburn and Kane Jameson. Oh. “You mean Kane?” she squeaked incredulously.
Jasmine clapped her hands. “I do believe our dearest Bertie is finally catching on to what’s been staring her in the face for weeks.”
“No!” Bert protested. “Not Kane. He’s not… That is, we’re not…” She paused in consternation. “The truth is, neither of us wants to get married. I only traveled to Bent because my parents could no longer afford to keep me. And Kane?” She fluttered her hands in the air. “He wants to see more of the world before settling down. He told me so himself.”
“From the vantage point of a hot-air balloon, maybe,” Jasmine tittered. “How can you be so blind, Bert? The man is so taken with you, he ignores everyone and everything else when you’re in the room.” She fanned her face as if growing hot. “And the look on his face? Utterly besotted!”
“That’s not true,” Bert protested. “None of it! For one thing, he always speaks to Chance when he visits. He rarely singles me out first.”
“Indeed! And why would any young bachelor speak to Chance Redburn on a regular basis unless he w
as looking for a wife?” Jasmine winked at Abigail. “Unattached men in this town do one of two things at the sight of Chance Redburn, don’t they, Ab?”
“Yes. Strike a bargain or run,” Abigail retorted dryly. She plopped in an armchair and opened a book. “I think we all know how Bert’s story will end, so I’m going to begin reading a different one. If the two of you will excuse me.” She leaned back against her pillows and turned the page.
Jasmine fussed around her corner of the room for a few more moments, then disappeared down the hallway.
Bert was left alone in the room with Abigail, whose attentions were in faraway fantastical lands, and her own troubled thoughts. She was reeling from her friends’ enormously wrong assumptions about her and Kane. How could they possibly mistake his very kind attentions toward her as those of a suitor? Why, the man was simply as fascinated with air travel as she was. They were working together because…why?
Doubt flitted through Bert’s mind as she mentally retraced the details of her relationship with Kane. They’d met when she’d barged uninvited into his circle of friends to join a conversation about air travel. During their tête-à-tête, which had extended all the way to the Black Barrel Inn, he’d decorated a cinnamon roll to resemble a hot-air balloon and gifted it to her. Then he’d walked her home.
Just like a suitor.
Bert’s face flamed. Then he’d offered to help her build her hot-air balloon, something he clearly didn’t have time for. And when he’d grown frustrated with what little progress he was making on his section of the project, he’d arranged to have it moved to his inn. An inn he jointly owned with his brother along with the ranch he also jointly owned with his brother.
Egad! Her friends were right. Kane didn’t need her to build a hot-air balloon. He could likely afford to purchase one outright. Or purchase a dozen hot-air balloons outright! Which meant he was spending every moment he could squeeze from his schedule with her, because…he wanted to?
If this were a court case, the growing evidence against him would be damning. It certainly looked as if Kane Jameson was wooing her.
“No,” she whispered, pressing two fingers to her temple. “I made it clear to him that I did not wish to marry. That if I had any other choice…oh-h-h!” she groaned. Maybe that was the reason he was being so close-mouthed on the topic — to keep her in the dark about his true intentions.
Yes, indeed. Kane Jameson is courting me. I’m such a fool for not seeing it sooner. She clutched the edge of the dresser until her knuckles turned white. What should I do about it? The good Lord knows I need to marry. Another thought struck her. Was his desire to court her the only reason for his job offer?
No. His offer of employment seemed genuine enough. Even he couldn’t fake Paisley’s condition. They were shorthanded at the inn, no doubt about it, and she’d promised to help during the woman’s lying in.
I have to do this, no matter how difficult it is to face Kane right now. The man who’s apparently been courting me on the sly. She nodded at the blushing woman in the mirror. I am a woman of my word.
She collected her reticule, packed a lunch pail beneath Beans’ watchful eye, and trudged slowly in the direction of the Black Barrel Inn. To her surprise and agitation, Paisley wasn’t the one waiting for her at the front desk. Kane was.
He smiled widely at the sight of her, his features lighting like a lantern. “There’s my newest employee. Are you ready to start your training?”
“I already started my training with Paisley, thank you, but I am happy to continue it with you,” she informed him politely. Maybe she was fretting over nothing. He didn’t sound very lover-like this morning.
“Good, but first I have something to ask you.”
She felt the color drain from her face. Surely, he did not intend to ask for her hand in marriage on her first day of work? She wasn’t prepared for this! “I have something to ask you, too,” she informed him breathlessly.
“Well, I started this conversation, so I get to go first.” He paused and frowned in concern. “You look a wee bit pale today. Are you well, Bert?”
I’m not sick. I never get sick. “I am perfectly alright,” she snapped. If you insist on going first, get on with it!
“My brother and I were just last night discussing the possibility of hosting a hot-air balloon race in Bent.”
“Oh, Kane!” Bert gasped. It was the most unexpected, most wonderful thing he could have possibly said to her — so wonderful that it made her dizzy just thinking about it.
He studied her with a crooked smile and an extremely satisfied male expression that unsettled her even further.
Hands in his pockets. Griff strolled into the foyer, whistling, and earned a glare from Kane.
“Morning, Griff,” Bert intoned in a dazed voice. Her head spun back and forth between the two of them. “Do you truly intend to host a hot-air balloon race? Right here in Bent?” For me?
He shrugged. “This is all Kane’s doing, but I don’t mind helping. Methinks it would liven up things in this town.”
Bert held her hands to her lips, too overcome to speak for several moments. This is the most wonderful thing anyone has ever done for me.
“What do you say, Bert?” Kane’s voice broke through the haze forming across her vision. He strode in her direction and took a knee in front of her. Reaching for her hand, he asked in a low, gravelly voice, “Will you do me the honor of racing your hot-air balloon with me?”
She felt like laughing and crying at the same time at the sight of him on one knee like a man proposing. Jasmine and Abigail were right. I have a beau.
“Well, Bert?” He arched one blonde brow at her.
“Yes.” She gulped. “Yes, I will race with you.”
He stood and reached for her hands. “You’ve just made me the happiest man alive.”
She offered no resistance as his warm, long fingers curled around hers. “What are we doing, Kane?” Her strained voice was barely above a whisper as she stared at their joined hands. In an instant, their partnership had changed. Monumentally.
“You have a very clever mind, lass.” The color of his eyes heated to molten silver. “What do you reckon we’re doing?”
“We’re courting, aren’t we?” She lowered her lashes, hardly able to continue standing beneath the intensity of his gaze.
“That is my hope, yes.”
She drew in a few quick shallow breaths. “How will this work? Since we’ve both made it clear that neither of us wishes to marry…” Her voice dwindled.
He gave a deep rumble of a chuckle. “I reckon you’ve changed my mind in that regard, lass.”
Oh! She caught her breath, feeling faint. Oh, my! Up to this very moment, she’d considered the whole institution of marriage a dreadful thing — a transaction most women stepped into out of necessity. For financial security, to bear children… Which in no way explained the deep well of emotion rising in her bosom. No man had ever before declared his feelings for her like this. No man had ever made her feel so vital, so special, so wanted.
Kane’s fingers tightened on hers. “I’d like to think your silence means you are considering having me as your beau.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she gasped. Every ounce of logic had drained from her normally pragmatic mind. Her thoughts were one big pile of yarn, all tangled and wound tight.
“If your silence means something else, I’ve one thing left to say before you tuck your tail and run.” He tugged her closer and said tenderly, “Know this. I’ll not ever pressure you into a marriage you do not wish for, Bert Langston. However, you’re the one who made a bargain with a matchmaker, which means you are at least considering the notion of marrying. All I’m asking of you right now is to court me and give me the opportunity to try to be the man you choose in the end.”
Tears stung the backs of her eyelids. She was overwhelmed and flabbergasted. How in the world had she attracted the attentions of a handsome, well-established rancher and innkeeper like Kane? Me!
I can’t cook or sew pretty or dance.
“You could do far worse than me, you know.” There was humor in his voice and a curl of uncertainty.
She nodded rapidly. “I know,” she choked. “I, ah…” She felt close to weeping.
“Say yes, Bert,” he urged softly. “Say you’ll court me.”
She nodded again. “Yes. I’ll do it.” Her words ended on a squeak of emotion that made her flush. Oh, where has my voice run off to? I’m supposed to be a good conversationalist. One of my few strong qualities.
Kane tossed back his head and gave a whoop of exultation that vibrated across the rafters. “Did you hear that, Griff? The lady has agreed to court me.”
“I heard.”
Bert jumped at his brother’s dry tone. She’d entirely forgotten he was in the room.
“Better dust off those chaps,” Kane warned.
Griff waved two fingers over his head as he exited the foyer without looking back.
Bert had no idea what the two men were talking about. She was still too busy trying to make sense of what had just happened. I have a beau. Won’t everyone be surprised? She recalled Jasmine and Abigail’s teasing from earlier and swiftly changed her mind. No. No, they won’t. I’m the only one who’s surprised.
Kane continued to grin at her. “You have an awfully puzzled look on your face. Pray share what you’re thinking, Bert, before I expire of curiosity.”
She cocked her head sideways. “I’m trying to figure out why you wish to court me. Do you find me pretty despite my deplorable habit of wearing trousers?”
“I find you more than pretty,” he assured in a teasing voice. “And I happen to like the way you look in your trousers. Very, very much.”
Huh! Well, I’ll be! The loco man liked the way she looked in trousers. She swayed on her feet, suddenly lightheaded.
He slid his arms around her middle and pulled her close, cuddling her against his chest. “Does this feel better?”
She nodded against the rough cotton grain of his shirt. It felt amazing to be in his arms. Like she’d finally found her safe haven. Her rock. Her home.
