Chapter Ten
CLARA TOOK HER TIMEgetting ready for dinner. After a day of brushing horses and assisting customers, her calico had collected far too much dust and dirt to be appropriate to wear to eat anywhere except in a barn.
She had only the blue dress she’d worn yesterday, and the soft green one she’d arrived in. That one had since been cleaned, thanks to her new friend Abigail at the boardinghouse, and so she opted for it. It was her favorite, with the way the lighter green bodice and overskirt set off her eyes, and the darker green underskirt was the color of the forests back home in Virginia. She then unwound her hair, gave it a good brushing, and repinned it into a looser chignon with a few tendrils framing her face.
Altogether, she was pleased at her efforts, and she hoped Roman would take notice.
As she waited for him in the parlor, she thought back on what had happened between them earlier in the day. He’d made himself awfully scarce afterward. Although she wasn’t certain why, she was almost glad to have the time to recompose herself. His hand had been warm and reassuring over hers, and his breath had warmed her neck as they worked. She’d been so consciously aware of how close he was that it was a wonder she hadn’t collapsed into a heap right there on the ground. She’d had to put every effort into keeping the brush in her hand and remembering to breathe.
Whatever it was that had passed between them, it was nothing like she’d ever experienced with Gideon. When he’d taken her hand, all she could think about was how damp his palm was and how she’d wished she’d kept her gloves on. He was handsome enough, for certain, and he’d made her heart beat a little faster sometimes. She’d thought that was simply how it felt to be attracted to a man.
She’d been wrong. Very, very wrong.
The door opened, and there he stood, dressed in the gray suit Clara had met him in. A giggle rose from her throat, and she pressed a hand to her mouth. It did no use, however, and her laughter escaped around her fingers.
“What is it?” He looked alarmed, his hat in one hand and the other patting down his coat and vest.
“It’s nothing . . .” Clara swallowed her giggles and gestured helplessly at the two of them. “Only that we both apparently used up our nicest clothing when we first met each other.”
It took a moment, but he finally smiled. Clara breathed a sigh of relief. She’d been afraid for a second that he’d take her observation as an insult rather than a simple fact that neither of them seemed overly concerned with fanciful clothing.
“So it seems,” he said. Then he extended an arm. “May I accompany you to dinner?”
“Please,” she said, looping her arm through his.
When he opened the door, Clara paused. “Where are we going?”
Roman grinned. “I thought we might take our meal at the hotel restaurant.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you certain?’ She couldn’t fathom how much that might cost.
“Absolutely.”
Clara bit her lip as he led her down the road. A train idled on the tracks next to them. Was she dressed nicely enough? Surely folks coming off the train for a meal couldn’t be bothered with wearing their finest clothing, and if they traveled with the windows open, they’d be covered in a fine layer of soot, as Clara knew all too well.
What might the hotel restaurant serve? She hoped it was food she could recognize. But she resolved to eat whatever they might set upon her plate. She wouldn’t have Roman thinking he’d wasted his hard-earned money.
They strode up the hill to the imposing building as a carriage passed them, filled with people Clara supposed were heading back to board the train. At the top of the hill, he paused a moment by the hotel’s fountain, allowing them both to look over the town spread out below.
“It looks so small from here,” Clara said.
“It won’t be long before it’s spread out in all directions,” Roman said, and Clara imagined he was right. With all the buildings and the people on the road below, she wondered how the town would look a year from now.
