“Let’s play charades,” JoDee said.
Mattias had his own idea. “No, let’s make limericks.”
“I want to play knots,” Rosalie disagreed.
“So many good ideas,” Lillith said. “How will we ever choose?”
“Let Chloe select the first game and Miss Sarah the second,” Pamela suggested.
“I know how to play charades, but the others are unfamiliar,” Chloe told them. “How do you play knots?”
“Between five and eight people stand close together in a circle,” JoDee explained. “On ‘go’ everybody scrambles and grabs two hands. Then you have to get untangled without letting go of hands.”
“It requires much undignified climbing over, under and around to get untangled,” Lillith said with a chuckle. “I don’t join in, but I certainly enjoy a good laugh watching.”
Chloe studied the other women in their dresses and skirts, imagining the scene. When she looked aside at Owen, he had a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Okay,” she said. “Knots it is.”
The children squealed and all of them wanted to go first. “Remember one short person per group,” Sully said. “Otherwise it’s near impossible to accomplish anything.”
Chloe was recruited for the first group. Sully called Owen to join them, and she soon stood in a tight circle that included Mattias. They stretched their hands forward and Sully shouted, “Go!”
Within a matter of seconds, Chloe was gripping a hand in each of hers. Her gaze traveled from the hand to the person. She held one of Mattias’s and one of Millie’s.
“All right, untie the knot,” Sully said.
The process was slow going, with much thinking and discussion of strategy. The more they attempted to climb and dip under each other’s arms, the more tangled they became. At one point she had to bend across Owen to unravel the knot, and just brushing against him, she became aware of his heat and hard muscles. She was glad she couldn’t see his face, because she’d have blushed, but she glanced at Lillith to see the woman grinning.
At another point she became entangled with Millie, and Chloe laughed until her side hurt. Finally, the only remaining knot in the group was maneuvered, and they stood in a circle, holding hands.
“I’m the next short person!” Niles called.
This time Chloe sat beside Lillith and watched. Sully gave the command and hands grappled for a hold. Richard and Miss Sarah attempted to untwine their hands and arms, and when Miss Sarah’s skirts got in the way, Lillith was tickled and laughed until tears streaked her face. After a flash of lacy petticoats, Sarah managed to stand upright and resume her dignity.
Chloe couldn’t remember laughing so hard. Seeing Richard in this context, teasing his wife and being a good sport, gave her an entirely new perspective. Recently, she’d wondered why she’d ever been drawn to him, but seeing him with his family reminded her of his good qualities.
Limericks turned out to be less physically challenging, but just as funny. Everyone jotted down a few words on a piece of paper, and every other person drew a slip from a vase to see with which word their line of the limerick must end and to make the next person’s rhyme.
Those who’d played before had deliberately listed nearly impossible to rhyme or funny-sounding words. Parents helped their children with this game, and Lillith participated.
The afternoon and evening passed so quickly that Chloe couldn’t believe it when Lillith announced it was time to set out the rest of the food, prepare drinks and have a casual meal. “You’re welcome to make a plate and bring it back here or sit in the dining room. Just be comfortable and enjoy yourself.”
Chloe found Miss Sarah. When they got to the dining room, family members urged them to the front of the line. Still full from the last meal, Chloe prepared a plate with small servings and carried it back to the great room. Miss Sarah sat beside her. Zeb soon joined them, taking a chair to Miss Sarah’s right. A few minutes later Owen found Chloe and seated himself on the ottoman nearby.
This had been a day unlike any Chloe had ever experienced. As others filtered in, she glanced from one family member to the next, thinking how fortunate the in-laws had been to marry Reardons and how wonderful it must have been to be born into this household.
She remembered well how taken she’d been with Lillith and the others all those years ago when she and Pamela had been friends and later when Richard had invited her to events.
When she’d learned that he’d married Georgia and brought her back to Red Willow, she hadn’t been heartbroken over the fact that he hadn’t asked her to marry him. She’d been disappointed that she would no longer be invited to their home.
Her uncomfortable realization was that she’d never been in love with Richard, but she’d been completely infatuated with his family.
Miss Sarah soon took her leave, and Zeb was quick to excuse himself, thank Lillith and walk her next door. Richard and Georgia gathered the boys and headed home. Lillith hugged everyone at the door.
“I can’t thank you enough for the day,” Chloe told her.
“Thank you for coming. It’s been far too long since you’ve been here.”
At her words, tears stung behind Chloe’s eyes.
“You’ll join us for Christmas, of course. Owen would miss your rolls if you didn’t bring them.” Lillith released her and motioned to Owen, standing several feet away. “Walk Miss Hanley home now.”
“I’ll come back and fill the wood box,” he told her.
“I can do it tomorrow,” she replied. “You go on home and rest.” She raised her cheek, and he kissed it.
He held out Chloe’s coat for her then grabbed his own.
“I’d forgotten what a warm person your mother is. She manages to do everything and be cheerful all the time.”
Owen walked beside her. “She lives for her family.”
“That’s obvious.” She stole a glance at him. “I don’t want you to feel awkward or obligated in any way, so I don’t think I’ll accept her invitation for Christmas. You didn’t sign up for having me intrude on your family time as well as work.”
“Oh, malarkey. You saw today that a few more people barely make a dent.”
“Will you play the same games?”
“Nope. By Christmas there will be ice and snow. We’ll go skating and sledding.”
“I haven’t ice-skated since I was a girl.”
“She should’ve mentioned that to you. I’m sure she will later, so you can dress warm. And the ladies wear shorter skirts to skate.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. Ask Pam or JoDee. Maybe one of them will loan you one.”
They climbed her porch stairs. “And you’re sure it won’t be an imposition?”
“I want you there.”
Surprised, she lifted her gaze. He looked entirely too serious. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. “Maybe you’ll be sick of me by then.”
He grinned. “Maybe. If I am, I’ll let you know.”
“I’ll go to the telegraph office in the morning and see if we’ve had any replies.”
“I was serious,” he told her. “If we have to brick up that window space, we will, in order to hold services four weeks from now.”
“There’s still a lot to be finished,” she told him.
“Trust me.” His amber eyes petitioned her to do just that. He reached for her hand. She hadn’t bothered with mittens for such a short walk, and she liked the sensual warmth and strength of his fingers against hers.
She trusted him. It was herself she didn’t trust in a situation like this, and her mistrust was validated when he leaned forward, and she eagerly raised her face. What was she thinking?
Chapter Eight
Owen moved his head lower until his warm lips covered hers in a soft, hesitant kiss. Chloe’s head swam with the pleasure of it. A giddy happiness welled from inside.
Antoinette meowed from the other side of the door.
Owen moved only a few scant inches away, but the crisp a
ir cooled her lips quickly.
“Thank you for inviting me,” she said. “I had a wonderful day.”
“I’m glad you came,” he replied. He straightened then, and she swallowed the disappointment of the kiss ending too quickly.
I’m glad you kissed me. Of course she didn’t say it, but she thought it. I wish you’d do it again.
“Good night,” he said, then turned and jogged down the stairs and out to the street, where he pulled his collar up around his neck.
Chloe unlocked the door and greeted Antoinette.
The following week passed quickly. Owen had a job at his shop he needed to finish for a customer, so he only worked at the church in the late afternoons. Chloe became discouraged at the lack of replies to her telegrams, but finally on Friday a good message was delivered. She carried the folded paper to his shop and rang the bell.
“Come on in, Chloe.”
“I’m sorry to bother you.”
“You’re not a bother.”
“We got a telegram from a man in Ohio who is willing to make our window.”
“How soon can he do it?”
“Two weeks,” she answered. “I’ll mail the glass and the pattern, and it should go out on the next train.”
“And his fee?”
She shrugged. “It will take the last of the money we raised, but we haven’t paid for a lot of the other materials yet.”
“Those supplies are taken care of.”
“How?”
“I worked out a few deals.”
“You paid the roofers, didn’t you?”
“I called in favors.”
He hadn’t mentioned money at all, and whenever she asked he brushed off the subject. She’d suspected for a while that some of the cost was coming out of his pocket. “Owen.”
They were standing inside the front door of his shop. Dust motes drifted in beams of sunlight that pierced the front windows, and the room was pleasantly warm. He wiped his hands on a rag. He’d rolled his sleeves back, revealing strong, corded forearms. “What?”
“Have you spent your own money on material and labor for the church?” There was no way he could avoid the direct question now.
“Some.”
“How much?”
He made an estimate, and she absorbed the figure. “Once we’re holding services again, and people are giving, you’ll get your money back.”
“Don’t worry about it.” His eyes were a vivid caramel hue in the sunlight. “I mean it. I wouldn’t have taken this on if I hadn’t wanted to. And I didn’t contribute the funds thinking I’d be getting it back.”
“Why did you do it?”
“Because I wanted to.”
“To foil Richard’s plan?”
“Partly. But no matter who’d been trying to tear down the church, I’d have thought it was a bad idea.”
“What’s the rest of the reason?”
“It’s personal.”
He had personal reasons for taking on the job and spending his own money, but he wasn’t being forthright about explaining what they were. “All right.”
She let her gaze touch a few pieces of displayed furniture without really seeing them. But she couldn’t let the subject go so easily. “Did you feel sorry for me when I came to you? Was that it?”
“No. Nothing like that.”
“Good. Because I’m not a charity case.”
“I never thought you were.”
“Well.” She folded the telegram. “I just wanted to share the news with you.”
“It’s good news,” he said.
She took a step toward the door. Owen caught her arm, halting her and bringing her back to face him. “I liked your passion.”
“What?” She widened her eyes and her heart pounded. Her gaze dropped to his lips.
“You’re passionate about the church,” he added. “About its preservation. I appreciate that.”
“Oh. Well, I guess I am.”
“Are you thinking about kissing me right now?”
His question jolted her out of her reverie. That’s exactly what she’d been thinking about. “Were you thinking about kissing me?” she asked in return.
“Yes.”
She met his eyes. He dropped the rag and his arms came around her, pulling her tightly against him until she felt every inch of his lean torso along her body. He was strong and warm, and being held this way made her light-headed.
He leaned to capture her mouth, and this time the kiss wasn’t soft or tentative. He angled his lips over hers, and she’d had no idea that something as simple as a kiss could send shivers along her spine and take her breath away. Nothing had ever felt this right or this confusing.
She wanted to get closer to him, get inside his head—breathe the same air and lose herself in him. He made her feel things she’d never known about or expected. He made her feel wanted, and the knowledge that he wanted her was heady.
One arm cinched her close, and with his other hand he cupped the back of her head. As he held her securely, the kiss grew in intensity. When she thought she couldn’t draw a full breath, he ended it and straightened.
Slowly, as though he regretted doing so, he loosened the embrace, but held her hand, and she clung to it to keep from spinning off the edge of the world.
Chloe collected her senses. Without another word, and before he could stop her, she opened the door and hurried out into the reviving wintry air.
It was Monday, and he hadn’t seen her since the previous Friday. It was probably a good thing they’d had the weekend to cool off and think about what had happened between them. Owen hadn’t started out with a plan to be taken by her. In fact, it hadn’t even seemed like a good idea.
But if he was honest with himself, he would have to admit he’d been attracted that very first day she’d approached him about fixing up the church and the day he’d heard her speak with such passion about the project.
If the woman could fight so fiercely for a building, imagine what she would endure for someone she loved. If she was so passionate about the church, what kind of passion could she unleash for a man?
The question shamed him.
And excited him.
At a pounding at the back of his shop, Owen unlocked the single door.
Ivan Henry had already started back to his wide delivery wagon and now unlatched the rear gate. “Got a load for you. Invoice is in my pocket.”
Fat white flakes swirled in the sky and covered the ground with the first glimmer of winter white. Cold snow dotted his face and landed on his shirt. “Is it from Ashton Mills?”
“Yup. Got a spot ready for it?”
“Let me go open the other door.” He hurried back in and slid the wide door to the side. “Stack it back against this wall.” He joined Ivan, carrying in the heavy lengths of wood.
Perfect timing. Now he could start on new pews that would match the remaining original ones. He hadn’t dared mention the lumber he’d ordered from a mill in Oregon to Chloe, because the cost had been way beyond a practical amount.
“Looks like some nice pieces,” Ivan commented, pausing for a breath.
“Pews,” Owen replied.
The man squinted as the snowfall picked up. “Gonna have them done by Christmas?”
“That’s my plan.”
“Tell Miss Hanley me ’n’ my family will be there for Christmas service.”
“She’ll be mighty pleased to hear that.”
They finished piling the lumber and Owen signed the invoice. “I have some hinges coming, so you might see those in the next few days.”
“I’ll keep an eye out.”
Owen pulled the door shut and ran his hand over a piece of wood, still cold from shipping. Timber like this always beckoned him. He flexed his fingers in anticipation of precise measuring and cutting.
He should go tell Chloe what he’d be doing this week, so she wouldn’t be looking for him—or thinking he was avoiding her.
He grabbed a coat and his hat and head
ed for Red Willow First Church.
Chloe was avoiding Owen, so seeing him ride up on a sleek dark horse and tie the reins to the post at her front gate caught her by surprise. She’d been cleaning her windows and he couldn’t have missed seeing her framed in the panes of glass. She might as well greet him.
She pulled open the door.
“I was surprised you weren’t at the church.” He leaped up the porch stairs two at a time.
“I’ve let my housecleaning get behind,” she replied. “I needed to attend to a few tasks today.”
“I stopped there to let you know I’d be working in my shop this week.”
“Oh.”
“So if you have things to do at the church, you can go about your business without seeing me.”
What was he getting at?
“The wood arrived, so I’ll be building pews.”
“All right.”
He started to turn away, but then swiveled back. “You were avoiding me today, weren’t you? Staying home like this.”
“I told you I have things to do,” she denied, but heat rose in her face.
“It was that kiss, wasn’t it?”
She glanced behind her, even though she knew good and well that Miss Sarah was upstairs in the sewing room and hadn’t heard his question. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Either you didn’t like that kiss…or you did, and liking it scared you. Or I scared you.”
“You didn’t frighten me.” But her heart beat erratically at just the mention of their kiss.
“If it was unwelcome and out of line, all you have to do is tell me, and it won’t happen again.”
She couldn’t believe he was standing on her porch in broad daylight, talking to her about that kiss. She didn’t know how to answer him. She didn’t want to unfairly encourage his affections, but her rebellious nature didn’t want to completely rule out the possibility of another kiss like that one. He was right; it had scared her, but not for the reasons he thought.
She owed it to him and to herself to acknowledge that she’d done this once before and was smart enough to learn from her mistakes. Certainly Owen was kind and good-looking, but it was surely his family she was most attracted to, and she wasn’t going to use him to get to them.
Western Winter Wedding Bells Page 6
