Chapter Seven
ROMAN WAS UP BEFOREdawn, full of a restless energy that made him want to accomplish everything all at once. It was far too early to fetch Miss Brown, much to his disappointment. By the time Jeremiah arose, Roman had already fed the horses and turned them out to the corral.
He set to work mucking out a stall, but his mind wasn’t on the day’s chores or the empty stall nearby that Alliance had once occupied. Instead, his thoughts kept turning toward a smile that could light up a room and hair that seemed made of sunlight itself. If he’d been surprised that Miss Brown had taken an interest in the livery, he was even more impressed at her shrewd mind. Miss Clara Brown was not just pretty, but smart too.
She’d be an asset to the livery, he thought. With her friendly disposition and the easy way she seemed to get along with everyone she met, from Jeremiah to Miss Darby to the townsfolk he’d introduced her to in the mercantile, it would be good to have her greeting customers and helping them obtain what they needed. He imagined she’d be a quick learner too. It wouldn’t be long before she knew the place inside and out.
It seemed almost too good to be true—a beautiful and kind woman he’d never met, traveling clear out here with the intention of marrying him, and wanting to be part of his work too. Perhaps something was finally going right for him, after so many years of not having any direction at all.
He wasn’t entirely certain he deserved her, but he’d do his best to prove himself.
Spurred on by his optimism, he’d found a spare few minutes to lay out the wood he intended to build into a new wagon. He was no wainwright, but it would be serviceable enough to rent out. With the money he’d make, he could save up to pay someone else to make a third. He envisioned needing to add another barn, one big enough to house a collection of wagons and carriages for hire.
But first, he needed to put this one together. He cut and hammered as men who boarded their horses came in and out of the stable to the corral. It was a few minutes past nine when Jeremiah stuck his head out the door.
“You’ve got a visitor, Boss,” he said, grinning.
Roman set down the saw and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. The chill was just starting to seep out of the morning. He followed Jeremiah back through the stable and spotted Miss Brown waiting near one of the horse stalls. She’d leaned over the stall door and was stroking the horse’s nose. Roman recognized the animal. Tartan was a chestnut gelding that belonged to the banker. The banker was a big fellow, a former miner who was rough around the edges. He boarded a couple of horses and a carriage, and as he had today, he usually sent word ahead of his arrival when he needed one of the horses. Roman had yet to see the man ever use the carriage.
“He’s such a beautiful horse,” Miss Brown said, turning her dazzling smile to him. “What’s he called?”
Roman blinked, rendered temporarily mute by how beautiful she looked this morning. She wore a light blue dress that reminded him of the sky on a clear day with a darker blue hat. The ensemble—or maybe it was the dim light in the stable—made her eyes look more gray than they had yesterday.
“The horse?” she prompted.
Roman cleared his throat, looking to the horse to clear his mind. “Tartan. He’s the banker’s horse.” He paused. “I was coming to fetch you in about an hour.”
“It’s all right. I awoke early and was eager to see your stable.” Miss Brown rubbed the white blaze on Tartan’s nose. The horse snuffled in return and she laughed.
Jeremiah stood next to Roman, slack-jawed until Roman fixed him with a glare.
“Sorry,” Jeremiah said quickly. “Just that I haven’t seen a lady take to a horse in that way before. Not that I’ve known many ladies. Ma’am,” he said to Miss Brown with a quick nod before moving quickly past her to the front of the livery.
“Please forgive Jeremiah,” Roman said.
But Miss Brown didn’t seem bothered. Instead, she clasped her hands together and looked about the place as if she’d never seen it before. “It’s so much larger in here than it looks from outside.”
Roman followed her gaze, over the stalls and the straw and dirt-covered floor. The horses were all outside, save for Tartan. He’d built the place large on purpose. “I wanted to have room to expand as the town grows.”
