She set aside the bedsheet before she scrubbed a hole into it. At least it was out in the open now. She hadn’t asked him to reconsider the plans for annulment, and she certainly hadn’t confessed love . . . but it was only natural that both of those thoughts must have crossed Nate’s mind by now. Especially considering how quickly he’d withdrawn.
What if he doesn’t feel the same?Ruthann shoved down that awful thought, taking up another linen and giving it a vigorous scrubbing against the washboard. He must feel something for her. A man didn’t ask such prying questions or take a lady’s hand unless he did.
Right?
“Ruthann.”
She turned at the sound of his voice, and there he stood, cutting a striking figure in his black suit with that devil-may-care dark hair and those eyes that seemed to see right through her. No wonder Sissy Flagler had taken one look at him and decided to make him her mark. He was easily the best looking man in town, a fact Ruthann had known since she’d been old enough to think about such things.
“Yes,” she said, pushing all her wild thoughts away and dropping the bedsheet.
“Might I ask for your help?” The words came out somewhat awkwardly, as if he’d never asked for help in his life.
Curiosity aroused, Ruthann stood. “In your studio?” He had a family scheduled for photographs this morning, if she remembered correctly. The Robinsons, who had, Ruthann believed, somewhere around eight young children. Or was it nine?
“Yes.” A squeal sounded from inside, and Nate glanced briefly behind him before turning his attention to Ruthann again. “It’s . . . ah . . . Well, it’s difficult to ensure that all the children remain seated and still long enough for the image to expose.”
Ruthann smiled at the thought of Nate attempting to convince a horde of little ones to remain perfectly still. Their parents certainly couldn’t do it if they were in the photograph too. “I’m happy to help, but I’m in a work dress.” She gestured at her water-splattered calico and apron.
Nate shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
He must be desperate, Ruthann thought. He was so careful with the way he presented himself each day that she assumed he’d wish the same of her if she was to help.
“Let me at least unpin my apron.” She made quick work of it, leaving the garment draped over the rail on the back porch.
Inside, the younger children ran with wild abandon around the studio. Nate uprighted a small table that had been knocked over while Ruthann assessed the situation. The children’s mother raised her hands and gestured at them to reassemble for the photograph while the oldest son scooped up a toddler who was pulling on Nate’s pant leg.
“Children!” Mrs. Robinson’s voice was commanding and yet gentle at the same time. Each child dutifully found his or her place as she took a baby from her husband’s arms. All was well as Nate stood behind the camera again, but it wasn’t long before Ruthann saw what had caused him such trouble. It wasn’t that the children were ill-behaved; they simply couldn’t stay in the same place without fidgeting. One of the boys elbowed his little sister, who started to cry, while another of the girls began to twist the long curls that hung down her back. Two of the older boys changed places, and to top it off, the baby began to fuss.
“I have an idea!” Ruthann announced loudly.
The children ceased moving immediately, and both parents looked at her in grateful hope.
“Let’s play a game.” She withdrew a penny from her pocket. It was one of a handful she’d failed to remove after a trip to Hill’s General Store two days before, and now she was thankful for her absence of mind.
The children blinked at the shiny penny.
“Who would like this penny?” she asked.
Every single one of the children, with the exception of the baby, of course, raised a hand—even the toddler who Ruthann suspected didn’t know what a penny was. But if his siblings wanted it, it made sense that he would too.
“Only one of you can win the coin,” she said in a hushed voice. “But there are rules to this game.”
They all leaned forward just slightly to hear her.
“First, you must stand up straight.”
Each child did exactly that.
Ruthann nodded to Nate, who took the cue and bent his head behind the camera. “Secondly, you must remain absolutely still until I say otherwise.”
They froze into place.
“And finally, you mustn’t make a peep.” She laid a finger against her lips.
It worked like a charm. Ruthann nodded at them every few minutes while she kept the penny out. Every single one of them remained as still as they could. Even the littlest ones tried not to squirm. Ruthann was so proud of them and gave them an encouraging smile as the time wound down.
When the right amount of time elapsed, Nate said, “I believe we have it.”
