by Karen Kirst
She lifted her chin. “No, thank you. I’m enjoying the chance to be outside in the fresh air.”
Ben looked at her, then Alexander. He seemed to come to a decision. Setting his knife on the makeshift work surface, he said, “I’ve actually got to get to the jail.” He used the water barrel beside the barn wall to rinse his hands. “Sorry to abandon you midtask, but you’ve got the boss to help out.”
Her smile was brittle. “I’ll see you at noon?”
“Count on it. That is, unless Shane finds something pressing for me to do, like sweeping out the jail cells.”
“I’ll be sure to set a plate aside for you.”
“Appreciate it, Ellie.” Tugging at his Stetson’s brim, he nodded and would’ve sauntered away if Alexander hadn’t blocked his path.
“There’s something I’d like to say.”
His eyes darkened. “Let me guess, you’re going to warn me off Ellie. I’m aware of my reputation, but do you honestly think I’d try to move in on an engaged lady?”
“It’s not Ellie. It’s Sally.”
“Ah. I’m not allowed to talk to her, is that it?”
Ellie left the work area. “Do you have serious intentions toward her?”
“Of course not,” he snorted. “She’s just a kid.”
Alexander shook his head. “She’s eighteen, plenty old enough to have marriage on her mind. She’s infatuated with you.”
“What?” His incredulous gaze bounced between them. When Ellie nodded, he threw his hands up. “I was careful not to flirt with her. I treated her as I would a younger sister.”
Ellie placed her hand on his arm. “For some girls, merely spending time with you is enough to inspire dreams of happy-ever-after.”
“Sally’s a loyal employee,” Alexander tacked on. “I’d hate to see her get hurt.”
His lips twisted. “I’ve already agreed to accompany her to the harvest dance.”
“Then you’d better think of a good reason to bow out,” he retorted.
Ellie flashed him an exasperated glance before turning her attention to the deputy. “I think that would be best, don’t you?”
Ben lifted his hat and ruffled his hair. “I’ll do it the first opportunity I get.”
After he’d gone, Ellie jammed her hands on her hips. “Did you have to be so harsh? Couldn’t you see he was upset by the situation? The man can’t look at a girl without rumors swirling.”
“Harsh? I was merely being honest.”
“Like you were with me?” she scoffed. “You need to learn some tact, Alexander.”
She returned to her task. He followed. “You’re angry with me. Why?”
“I’m not angry. I’m offended that you think I’d misconstrue your attentions as real. Was that kiss really necessary, by the way?” She tapped her cheek.
“What I said wasn’t only for your benefit.” Scraping his hand over his face, he admitted, “I’ve been on my own for several years. Spending time with you has been...well, wonderful.”
Her lips parted in surprise.
“I’ve come to consider you a good friend,” he continued. “I never want to hurt you.”
“I feel the same.”
His chest expanded with a warm infusion of contentment, but he couldn’t deny there was an underlying desire for more than friendship. He couldn’t act on it. He had to bury it so deep it withered and died. After her baby was born, he’d go back to being nothing more than her boss. He’d have to learn to be content with that.
Chapter Fourteen
“Boss, come quick!”
Alexander pushed out of his desk chair, his heart in his throat as he rushed after Flo. Fear seized him when he spied Ellie hunched over the table by the stoves. He couldn’t see her face, just the top of her head and her small hands splayed against the surface propping her up.
Flo hovered beside her. “I don’t know what happened. One minute she was checking the pies and the next she almost swooned.”
“What’s wrong?” he demanded, curving his arm around her shoulders. “Ellie, talk to me.”
She angled her head to look at him. Tiny beads of sweat dotted her brow. “I’m just a bit woozy, that’s all. I got overheated.”
He scooped her up in his arms and strode for the door. Ellie gasped and wriggled in his hold. “Alexander Copeland, put me down!” She clutched the front of his vest.
“In a moment.” He bit out a command over his shoulder. “Flo, bring a glass of water.”
“Yes, sir.”
The cooler air was a soothing balm he hoped would ease her distress. He surprised himself by offering up a silent prayer. If Ellie lost this baby...if anything happened to her...
“Put me down,” she urged. “I’m too heavy.”
“For me to carry across town, maybe,” he quipped, desperate to bury the unnerving thoughts. “I believe I can manage to get you to that tree yonder.”
Brow knitted, she fell silent as they traversed the yard. He lowered her gently to the ground at the base of the tree so that she could sit with her back against the wide trunk. Crouching beside her, he searched for signs of pain, his focus eventually settling on her belly. Alexander reached out his hand, only to draw back at the last second.
“Do you hurt anywhere?”
She smoothed her hair behind her ear. “No. I’m the teeniest bit nauseous, but being out of that hot kitchen is helping.” Then she clapped her hand over her mouth. “My pies. I have to check on them.”
“Whoa.” He put a restraining hand on her shoulder. “Absolutely not. You’re not moving from this spot until I say so.”
“Alexander, the judging event for food entries is today. I have to have those pies there no later than three o’clock.”
“I’ll deliver them.”
“But they’re still in the oven. They could be burning as we speak.”
Flo trundled up and passed her a glass. “How are you holding up?”
Ellie dutifully sipped the water. “I’m feeling much improved. The heat got to me. I won’t make the mistake again now that I recognize the warning signs.”
“Ellie isn’t ready to come inside yet, and she’s worried about her pumpkin pies. Would you mind checking them?”
“Will do, boss.”
When she’d gone, he once again raked his gaze over Ellie. “Do you need to visit Doc?”
“That’s not necessary.”
“You’re sure?”
“Trust me. If I felt like there was something seriously wrong, I’d already be there.”
His worry lingering, he took in the impressive scenery. Vivid blue skies framed the barn and shed. The orange pumpkins and variety of squash in the garden mimicked the colors climbing up the mountainside. Soon autumn would give way to winter and winter to spring. Ellie’s baby was due in March. It seemed both an eternity and a blur.
Ellie cupped his jaw, drawing his attention to her. “I’m fine, Alex. I promise.”
A smile formed. “No one besides my sister, Margaret, has ever called me that.”
The corner of her mouth quirked. “It was a slip.”
His leg cramped, so he rested one knee in the grass. “I don’t mind.”
“How old is your sister? Is she married?”
“Twenty. Last I heard, she had her sights on a certain young shopkeeper in town. Hard to believe she’s of the age to marry and set up her own household.”
“What about your brother?”
“He’s been engaged for over a year, but he’s dragging his feet on setting a date. I’m not sure why.”
Remorse pounded him. His siblings had paid the price for his decision to abandon his home. They’d depended on him, as the eldest, to run the ranch and provide guidance as they navigated life’s major c
rossroads.
“Have you invited them to visit you here?”
He shot her a dry look. “Until you came along, I wasn’t in the condition for company, especially that of my siblings.”
Her smile broadened. “I’m not going to apologize.”
He noticed there was color back in her cheeks. “You’re looking more like yourself. Still queasy?”
She shook her head. “I feel normal.”
“Good.”
“That means I can check on my pies?”
“Not so fast.” He stood to his feet. “I want you to rest for a while longer.”
Due to the harvest festivities, he’d made the decision to close the Plum for the rest of the day. Tomorrow they’d only be open for breakfast. Ellie had entered the pie contest, and Flo had entered jams and hand-knitted shawls. Sally’s mother wanted her there to help with the younger siblings.
Half an hour later, Ellie had convinced him she was fine and to escort her and what were sure to be her award-winning pies to the open fields located beyond the church where the harvest fair was held each year. Booths were set up in even rows, leaving ample space for attendees to mingle. Scents of venison and pork roasting above open fire pits mingled with that emitted from fat barrels of tart apple cider. School had been let out early, so kids of all ages prowled the area in search of games and snacks to spend their pennies on.
As he and Ellie made their way to the far end of the fields, folks who’d previously given him a wide berth now smiled in approval. He wasn’t sure what carried more weight—his church attendance or his choice of a bride. Knowing how likable Ellie was, he was inclined toward the latter.
They’d delivered the pies when Ellie nudged him and nodded toward a couple who appeared to be arguing beneath a huge maple tree. The petite blonde girl was gesturing wildly while the young man listened, hands up in defeat.
“Sally.” He exchanged a concerned look with Ellie. “I wonder what’s going on? Ben reneged on the dance days ago.”
“She looks really upset,” Ellie said. “Should we go over there?”
“If it were my little sister, she wouldn’t be thrilled with my interference.”
“Look around, Alex. People are starting to notice.”
Indeed, folks were staring and whispering. “Let’s go.”
With Ellie’s arm linked with his, they walked over. Ben’s glance in their direction reeked of helplessness.
“Is everything okay over here?” Alexander ventured.
Sally spun around, her cheeks wet and her eyes puffy. “You!” Brown eyes huge with distress, she advanced on him. “How could you do it? Who gave you the right to dictate whom I can and cannot socialize with? I’ve already got a pa. I don’t need you poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
The vehemence with which she spoke put Alexander off-kilter. This behavior wasn’t typical for sweet, biddable Sally Hatcher.
“Sally, don’t blame Alexander for attempting to look out for your best interests,” Ellie implored. “He’s your boss.”
“Not anymore,” she scoffed. “I quit!”
Alexander’s jaw sagged. “You can’t quit. The café—”
“Is no longer my concern.” With that, she stalked off in the opposite direction, almost mowing down a kid balancing a fried pie and three cinnamon rolls.
Ben cleared his throat, drawing both their gazes from her retreating figure. “I apologize. If I’d known this would be the outcome, I would’ve given her the cold shoulder from the start.”
Alexander crossed his arms. “Think back on your acquaintance with her. Did you smile and flirt and pay her compliments?”
He stroked his chin and winced. “It’s possible.”
“You singled her out at the café,” he accused.
Ellie sighed. “What reason did you give for changing your mind about the dance?”
“I told her I decided not to go, plain and simple. She kept pestering me until I couldn’t take it anymore. I let it slip just now that you didn’t think it was a good idea.”
Alexander scuffed the ground with his shoe, frustration riding him. He searched the fields for a sign of her. Sally quitting was a disaster for his business and for her financial state. He knew from Flo that the Hatchers had more mouths to feed than they could manage and that her income helped keep food on the table.
It had been ages since someone had been that angry with him. He wanted to fix things but didn’t know how.
* * *
Ellie couldn’t handle seeing Alexander’s stricken expression. It reminded her of the early days when he’d shunned everyone in order to live out his private nightmare. While he wasn’t completely rid of his past’s influence, he was halfway to freedom. He was taking an interest in his café. He involved himself in his employees’ lives. He was allowing himself to care. She couldn’t bear it if one day he decided to withdraw again.
“How about we go explore the booths?” she suggested. “This is my first official harvest fair in Gatlinburg, and I’m curious what all they have to offer.”
His mouth set in a frown, he stared in the direction Sally had disappeared. “I can’t believe she quit. What are we going to do? How will we serve everyone?”
She curled her fingers around his biceps and lightly squeezed. “She’s upset. Trying to talk to her now would be futile. Let’s give her some time to collect her thoughts, and then we can pay her a visit.”
He turned his head, his troubled gaze finding hers. “You’re right. Margaret used to have similar episodes. My first instinct was to charge after her and settle our dispute, but Rosa advised me against it.”
“So? Shall we browse?”
He inclined his head. “All right. I do believe I’m in the mood for something sweet.”
“I smell spiced apples.”
They walked toward the closest tables where multiple crafts were on display. “Don’t eat anything too rich. You don’t want to risk a stomach upset.”
“Yes, Nurse Jameson.”
He gifted her with a lopsided smile that turned her insides to mush. What would she do if he smiled in just that way more often? How would she resist longing for this relationship to be authentic?
“I know what you’re thinking—you’re a grown man perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.”
He chuckled. “I may have grumbled in the past, but in truth, who could complain about having a woman as beautiful and wonderful as you watching out for them?”
Ellie’s entire body tingled at the compliment. She’d never tire of Alexander’s praise. Unsure how to respond, she led him to the nearest collection of hand-pieced quilts and crocheted blankets. One in particular caught her eye. Done in pastel green, yellow and pink, the blanket would be perfect for a baby.
Alexander tested the soft yarn. “You like this one?”
The elderly woman seated behind the table looked up from her current project and smiled benevolently. “When is your baby due?”
“March.”
“Still cold enough to get some use out of it before spring’s heat sets in,” she responded.
Alexander leaned close, his shoulder brushing hers. “I’m sure you could use that for several years to come.”
The lady overheard and wiggled her eyebrows. “By the time that one’s outgrown it, he or she will have younger siblings to pass it along to.”
Ellie lifted her hand from the blanket and took a step back. The assumption that she and Alexander would have children together put a pang in the vicinity of her heart. She hadn’t known how appealing such a notion was—or how unhappy she’d be at the impossibility of it.
You’re being ridiculous, she scolded. He may never recover from losing his first son. No way would he wish to be a father again. Rubbing her tummy, she silently wished things we
re different. Her unborn child would benefit greatly from having Alexander in his or her life. He was thoughtful and practical, caring and loyal.
“Maybe another time,” she demurred, steering him toward the next booth.
A few paces away, out of the crafter’s hearing, he said, “Let me purchase it for you. I have yet to choose a baby gift.”
Ellie was tempted. With one last glance at the beautiful blanket, she resolutely shook her head. “Thank you, Alexander, but I couldn’t possibly accept such generosity.”
His blue eyes were insistent. “We may not be engaged, but I am your boss. There wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary about me bestowing your child with a gift.”
“I can’t.” She scanned the row of tables and pointed. “Forget about browsing. I’m ready for dessert.”
He allowed her to lead him away. He did insist on paying for their treats. They devoured mouthwatering fried dough dusted with sugar and cinnamon while standing in the middle of the aisle, uncaring they were disrupting the flow of foot traffic. Ellie couldn’t resist licking the sugar from her fingers. Catching her, Alexander grinned and mimicked her actions. As a matronly figure passed them and assumed a disdainful expression, they burst into laughter.
Their sweet tooth satisfied, they resumed their explorations. Alexander admired hand-carved knives and walking sticks. Ellie browsed household goods but didn’t purchase anything. When she spotted an area where folks—mostly of the ten-and-under variety—were painting faces on gourds and carving pumpkins, she persuaded her handsome escort into taking part.
He took a seat in the middle of a makeshift table and smiled at kids on either side of him. Ellie watched as he painted a silly face on the gourd. When the little girl across from him asked what he was going to name it, he tapped his chin as if in serious thought and said “Gordy.” She giggled.
Ellie’s heart melted. Her imagination threatened to take her to the future, to when her son or daughter was that age. How easy it was to picture Alexander teaching a little boy to fish or reading a book to a little girl. She put a stop to it, but it commanded all her willpower.
“Are you going to join us?” he asked, dark brows lifted.
