“She said she did. I was wondering if you’d mind if we invited them for Thanksgiving dinner, if they don’t have other plans.”
“Not at all. That’s a fine idea,” Luke said, helping himself to another cookie. “Speaking of fine ideas, I’ve got one for this afternoon. What would you say to going for a ride with me? I could show you the property boundaries and you could get some fresh air. I don’t know how many more nice days we’ll have before winter sets in.”
“That sounds lovely,” Philamena said, wiping imaginary crumbs from the counter. “I’ll put dinner in the oven before we go.”
“Good,” Luke said, getting to his feet and putting his dirty glass in the sink. “I’m going to change my clothes. Just come down to the barn when you’re ready.”
Philamena nodded her head, trying to conceal her excitement at the prospect of going riding with Luke. Hurrying, she put a chicken with potatoes and carrots in the oven to bake, banked the fires and changed into her riding skirt, a soft blouse, and warm woolen coat with a thick scarf and gloves the same shade of holly green as her eyes.
The split skirt gave her such freedom as she moved, she felt like running to the barn but managed to keep her pace to a fast walk.
Stepping into the barn, she inhaled the scents of oiled leather, hay, manure and animals. She loved the smell and walked down the row of stalls, studying each animal. Drake was already saddled and standing patiently in his stall ready to go. In the next stall, Luke was cinching the saddle on a sorrel mare. Hearing the rustle of Philamena’s skirt, Luke looked up at her and grinned.
The sight of him in blue jeans, boots, a canvas coat with a wooly lining and his cowboy hat nearly did her in. His grin, deepening the dimple in his chin, along with the glow from his ice blue eyes, just about finished her off.
Unable to keep from grinning back at him, Philamena walked carefully up to the mare and let her take in her scent before placing a gentle hand on the horse’s nose and looking into her brown eyes.
“This is Sheeba,” Luke said, adjusting the length of the stirrups to fit Philamena’s long legs. “Dad bought her for my sister but she never liked to ride, so this poor girl hasn’t had that much opportunity for exercise. She’s as gentle as a lamb, so you don’t need to worry about her trying any tricks with you.”
“I’m not worried,” Philamena said, stroking the horse’s neck. “I can tell we are going to be friends, aren’t we girl?”
Luke led Sheeba out of the stall then whistled a short, piercing burst of sound. Drake walked out of his stall and followed along behind them. Philamena smiled as she watched the horse over her shoulder.
“My, you’ve got him trained well,” she said, a sound of admiration filling her voice.
“He’s like an overgrown puppy,” Luke said, grinning at her. “He knows there’s a treat waiting for him if he behaves.”
Walking out into the afternoon sunshine, Luke closed the barn door then turned to assist Philamena into the saddle, only to find her already seated, reins in hand.
“I thought you said you only had some experience with horses,” he said, giving her a doubtful look. “Seems to me you know your way around horses pretty well.”
“Riding was the one thing I could do to escape the farm,” Philamena said as she and Luke walked the horses down a pathway along the edge of his fenced pasture. “When Pa was in town drinking or sleeping off the effects, I could ride and feel a little freedom.”
“I didn’t realize your Pa still had a horse,” Luke said, thinking Alford could have traded the horse, instead of his daughter, to pay part of his loan.
“He doesn’t,” Philamena said, looking over Luke’s herd of Herefords. “He lost it to someone at the Red Lantern more than a year ago.”
Feeling an overwhelming anger toward Alford Booth, Luke turned his attention from it to the woman riding next to him. Philamena lost her timid, wounded air on the back of the horse. She seemed to come alive as her bright eyes sparkled, her cheeks turned a rosy pink and an aura of excitement clung to her. A confidence he wouldn’t have thought her capable of possessing made her sit tall and proud in the saddle.
Luke thought she looked utterly appealing in her dark brown split skirt with brown boots, a thick black wool coat and a scarf the same shade as her eyes wrapped around her neck. Rather than a loose bun on her head, she had braided her hair and it hung like a gleaming rope down her back.
When she turned to him and smiled, he found himself grinning like an idiot right back at her. “Want to race?” she asked, then urged Sheeba into a run.
Drake took off after Sheeba before Luke could formulate a response. He soon took the lead and they raced across the end of the pasture, right up to the tree line. Reining the horses down to a walk, they came to a small clearing with a stream. Dismounting, Luke gave the horses a short drink, then let them graze while he and Philamena walked along the bank.
“That was fun,” she said, her face glowing from both the crisp air and an inner joy.
“You ride very well,” Luke said, admiring her ability to handle a horse. He would never have guessed she would be an outdoorsy type of girl, but it appeared that she was. Wondering what other surprises he had yet to find out about his bride, he looked forward to discovering each one.
“Thank you,” she said, shooting him an appreciative grin. Finding a fallen log, Luke dusted off a place for Philamena to sit before easing down to the grass and leaning his back against the wood. Sitting in silence, they listened to the stream and the sounds of the birds in the trees.
“Luke?” Philamena finally asked, giving him a sideways glance.
“Yes?” he tried not to smile too broadly. His bride had a lively mind and her questions never failed to entertain or challenge him.
“How did you become such an outdoorsman? You ride and raise cattle. You aren’t anything like the image of a banker I have in my head.”
Luke chuckled and tipped back his hat. He plucked a blade of brown grass and chewed on it a moment. His mother would probably faint dead away if she could see him at this moment, but thankfully, she was on the other side of the country and he was old enough not to care what she thought.
“My family came from old money. My father’s grandfather had a bank and he passed it down to his son and so forth. When my mother met my father, she set her cap for him and there was no escaping on his part. Although my father grew up banking, he always longed for adventure, so when my sister and I were just tiny little tots, he packed up the family and moved us here to start a new bank. He bought the few acres on the edge of town, hoping to ease Mother into the thought of someday having a ranch as well as the bank, but my mother hated every day she spent here. My sister wasn’t much better. Dad finally gave up and returned to New York to make my mother happy.”
Luke leaned back and looked at the blue sky. “Me, I loved it here. The open spaces, the clean fresh air. I’ve always liked animals and being outside, so it just seemed natural to buy the land behind Granger House when it because available for purchase. I added the fence, bought some cattle, and enjoyed every minute of being a gentleman rancher. I much prefer to be outside than in the bank, but I feel obligated to keep the bank going even though I own it now. My dad worked hard to establish it and I plan to keep it running successfully as a way of honoring him. I know he would prefer to be living here running it himself, but he loves my mother more than he does the lure of the West.”
“How did you manage to take this afternoon off?” Philamena asked, trying to not to be obvious in her perusal of her handsome husband. Out here he looked so carefree and young, virile and strong.
“Harlan is a great assistant and I know any time I need to be out of the office, he can be counted on to take good care of the business. Sometimes the call of the wild is stronger than the call to balance books and count money,” Luke said with a wink.
Philamena studied Luke for a moment and soon found herself lost in his blue eyes. As he gazed back at her, they seemed to glow
with an inner light that drew her in. Luke sat up and leaned toward her. She suddenly couldn’t swallow, her mouth as dry as sawdust.
Pulling her gaze away, she jumped to her feet. Brushing the back of her skirt, she scrambled for an excuse to leave. “We probably better head back. I need to finish dinner preparations.”
Luke lazily got to his feet, tossed aside the stem he’d been chewing and settled his hat firmly on his golden head.
“I suppose we should,” he said, looking toward the darkening sky. “It’s starting to get dark early. On days like this, with the sun shining so brightly, I forget winter is nearly here.”
Luke picked up Sheeba’s reins and handed them to Philamena before taking Drake’s. He turned to help her mount, but she was busy whispering in Sheeba’s ear. The horse actually looked like she was grinning, which made Luke smile.
“Do you need help mounting?” he asked, raising an eyebrow her direction as she rubbed Sheeba’s neck.
Looking over her shoulder at him, Philamena threw out a challenge. “Nope, but I’ll race you back to the house.”
“Let’s go,” Luke called as he mounted Drake. Philamena continued to stand next to Sheeba, then clicked her tongue at the horse, sending her into a fast trot. Holding onto the saddle horn, Philamena ran alongside Sheeba, gaining speed with the horse. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, once, twice, she deftly swung herself into the saddle.
Luke sat watching Philamena, completely spellbound. His wife could perform in a circus if she wanted. He didn’t know what happened to the frightened, submissive, quiet girl he married, but Luke was more than halfway in love with this daredevil woman.
Racing Drake to catch up, Philamena beat him to the barn by a nose. Jumping out of the saddle, she laughed, a wonderful sound like silvery bells on a clear winter day that made Luke’s heart thud in his chest with a rapid beat.
“I haven’t done that in forever,” she said, hugging the horse around the neck. “Thank you for cooperating, Sheeba. You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”
The horse seemed to agree by nodding her head. Philamena held out her gloved hand and Sheeba eagerly accepted half an apple. Philamena took the other half out of her pocket and tossed it to Luke for Drake, who ate it greedily.
“Where in the world did you learn to do that?” Luke asked, still in shock as they walked the horses into the barn.
“My Mama and I went to see a Wild West show once and I loved the performing riders. I went home and practiced and practiced until I could do some of the tricks. Mama said I had a talent with horses and encouraged me to have fun and pursue my dreams.”
“What were your dreams?” Luke asked softly, gazing at his surprising bride.
“When I was thirteen, I wanted more than anything to join a traveling Wild West show. You could see the country, perform, and life seemed like it would be an exciting adventure,” Philamena said, brushing Sheeba.
“What about now?” Luke asked, as he brushed Drake, still somewhat distracted by the talented horsewoman he married.
“Now, I guess my dream would be to find somewhere I belong,” Philamena said, keeping her face turned to the horse to hide her teary eyes. “To find someone who can love me, or at least care about me.”
Stepping out of Drake’s stall, Luke pulled Philamena out of Sheeba’s and wrapped his arms around her. Bending his head, his lips were close to her ear, warming her neck and making her tremble nervously. “I care about you and I want you to feel like you belong here.”
“Thank you, Luke,” Philamena said, her head resting against his solid chest. She thought she could stay right there all day, but Sheeba had other ideas when she started tugging on Philamena’s coat, pulling her back.
Laughing at the horse’s antics, Philamena gave the animal a final pat then shut the stall door.
“I guess she doesn’t like having to share the attention,” Philamena said as Luke gave both the animals their evening feed.
“It certainly looks that way, doesn’t it?” Luke said, annoyed that Sheeba had interrupted his interlude with his beautiful bride.
As they walked toward the barn door, Luke took Philamena’s hand and squeezed it in his own. Stopping her in the barn aisle he said “Keep dreaming your dreams. I know they’ll come true.”
<><><>
Enjoying his second helping of baked chicken and hot biscuits, Luke watched his wife. He couldn’t quite get over the transformation he had seen in her today when she was riding. It was like she became a whole different person, one he found completely intriguing and couldn’t get out of his thoughts.
Deciding to carefully approach the idea of courting his wife, the first thing Luke planned to do was shorten her name to the one that had rattled around in his head all afternoon.
“What was your mother’s name?” Luke asked, out of the blue, surprising Philamena.
“Maureen,” Philamena said, wondering what inspired Luke to ask that question.
“Was she Irish?”
“Yes.”
“That explains it,” Luke said, nodding his head as though he was agreeing to something.
Philamena looked at Luke in confusion.
“Your hair, those big green eyes, the smattering of freckles on your nose,” Luke said, lifting his fork her direction. “They make me think of an Irish lassie.”
Philamena smiled. “My grandparents came to America when they were newly married, to start a new life. A better life. He worked hard and provided well for his family. I think it broke their hearts when my Mama married Pa and moved all the way out here.”
“Do you look like your mother?”
“Some people used to think so,” Philamena said, recalling how often her father used to say she looked just like her mother, up until he started drinking.
“If she looked like you, then she must have been very beautiful,” Luke said, studying Philamena intently.
She blushed, ducking her head. Reaching out, he lifted her chin with his finger, forcing her to make eye contact.
“Don’t be embarrassed, I’m just stating a fact,” Luke said, with a devilish grin. “Bankers know facts.”
“Is that so?” Philamena said, trying to push down her nervousness and fully enjoy this time spent with Luke. “As my grandfather used to say, I think you might be full of blarney.”
Luke laughed and cupped Philamena’s chin in his hand. “Be that as it may, I do have a favor to ask of you.”
Philamena looked at him, unable to think of anything she could do for Luke.
“Would you please allow me to call you Filly? In light of your talent with a horse and that wonderful spirit I caught a glimpse of today, I’d like very much to call you Filly. Would you mind?”
“No, that would be fine,” Philamena whispered, carrying dishes to the sink. Luke thought she had spirit? She used to, long ago. Her mother often called her high-spirited and tenacious. And Luke wanted to call her Filly? She loved the way the name sounded when he said it. Her father had been the one to insist she be named Philamena, after his grandmother. Her mother had never been fond of the name and often called her Mimi.
“Good. Filly it is,” he said, pleased at how well the day had gone. “Not that your name isn’t nice, but it makes me think of someone who likes to sit embroidering linens, not someone who could have her own act in a wild west show.”
Philamena felt heat rise to her cheeks again and hid her blush over the pan of dishes she was washing. As she scrubbed a plate, she decided from there on out to think of herself as Filly – a woman with spirit and grit.
Chapter Six
Hurrying down the sidewalk toward home, Filly realized her errand had taken her far longer than she had planned. Aleta Bruner waited on her at the mercantile and wanted to get her thoughts on a new recipe she saw in a magazine. Eager to make a new friend, Filly enjoyed their chat and lost track of the time until the mercantile clock struck five.
Dropping the cinnamon she’d come to purchase in her basket, she gave Aleta a wave and
hurried out the door.
The November air was brisk and cool. Snow would definitely be arriving soon. As she neared the bank, Filly couldn’t decide if she should go in and see if Luke wanted to walk her home or hurry back to her kitchen.
Deciding to stop, Harlan and Luke were just coming out the door as she approached the building. Seeing her first, Harlan tipped his hat and waved before Luke turned and smiled. When he saw her, his eyes lit with warmth.
“Filly, what are you doing out in this cold breeze?” Luke asked, putting an arm around her shoulders as they started toward home.
“I ran out of cinnamon and needed some to finish my baking tonight,” she said, enjoying the feel of Luke’s arm around her. Lost in conversation about the Thanksgiving meal she was preparing tomorrow for them and the Dodds, they didn’t notice Melanie LaRoux blocking their path until they nearly walked into her.
“Oh, pardon us,” Luke said, starting to go around her, until he noticed who it was. The smile fell from his face and he stood a little straighter.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Luke Granger and his wife,” Melanie said, shooting Filly a cool glare. She made the word wife sound like a derogatory term. “I suppose congratulations are in order. I heard you had a quick wedding. Of course, we all know what that means, Luke, you rascal. So when will you be adding on to your family?”
“Pardon?” Luke asked, sure he misunderstood her question.
“Come, now, Luke, don’t play the innocent. When is the baby due?” Melanie said, her eyes cold and hard, calculating.
Luke wanted to wrap his hands around Melanie’s scrawny neck and throttle her. Glancing down at Filly, her face had turned a deathly shade of gray and her eyes filled with unshed tears. He felt her stiffen beneath his arm.
Narrowing his gaze, he squeezed Filly’s shoulder through her coat. “Miss LaRoux, not that it is any of your business, but since you tend to run your mouth both coming and going, my wife is not expecting. We had a short engagement at my request. I couldn’t wait to begin a life with Mrs. Granger. She is everything a man could possibly want in a helpmate - gentle, kind, generous, tender, loving and, as you can plainly see, quite beautiful. Now, if you’ll excuse us…”
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