Chapter One
CREST STONE, COLORADO– Summer 1877
The dust rose in a cloud and tickled Deirdre Hannan's nose and throat.
She sneezed, then coughed, sneezed again, and finished with yet another cough. Her eyes streamed as she rested the broom against the doorframe of the livery’s storage room.
“Are you all right?” Jeremiah Wiley asked. He paused on his way out the nearby exterior door with a horse in tow.
Deirdre nodded and smiled, despite her watering eyes and the dust motes still dancing in her nose.
Jeremiah grinned at her. “Anytime you want to quit is fine. Pretty sure the boss won't get mad.”
Deirdre laughed as she fanned the remaining dust out of her face with her hand. “I don't mind helping,” she reassured Jeremiah.
The last thing she wanted was for him to send her home. Not only was it as dull as a butter knife at her brother’s house, that would mean she'd see far less of Jeremiah. “Besides, if I show up often enough,” she said. “Maybe Roman will forget I don't actually work here and start paying me.”
That made Jeremiah laugh, and Deirdre lit up inside. It was a joke, of course. Her brother made enough of an income to keep them both comfortable. Thankfully, he spent most of his time out of the house, or he might know exactly how often his sister was at the livery. He knew she went to the stable sometimes to visit with Clara, Roman’s wife, but he certainly didn’t know exactly how frequently she was there.
Or about the other reason she liked being at the livery so much.
Jeremiah pretended to eye her curiously. “You’re beginning to resemble a stablehand.” He reached out and plucked a length of straw from the hair that was loosely pinned at the nape of her neck.
Deirdre went warm. Her face was likely the same color as her hair—or it would have been if the color of her hair wasn't completely obscured in dust and dirt. She lifted a self-conscious hand to her face, trying not to imagine what Jeremiah thought upon seeing her like this.
But he wasn't looking at her at all. Instead, he was making a clucking sound at the horse. “I don't say it enough, but thanks again for your help,” he said to Deirdre. He looked at her then and gave her that smile that always made her heart trip over itself and her head go dizzy. “You're a good friend.”
Friend.
Deirdre forced herself to smile back at him, but it fell the second he passed with the horse. She swiped at the dust on her cheeks. A friend. No matter how often she spent afternoons at the livery or how she joked with him and tried—ever so subtly—to flirt with him, that was the only way he saw her. She'd known him for nearly a year now, and it seemed with each day, her goal moved farther and farther away.
She used her broom to push the remaining debris out the door of the storage room with more force that was necessary before closing the door and going to find Clara.
“Oh, my, what did you do?” Clara's eyes widened as she took in Deirdre's disastrous state.
Deirdre glanced down at her dress. “I swept out the storage room.”
Clara fished a key from a pocket sewn into her skirt. “Here. Take this and wash up as best you can before you go home.”
“Thank you.” Deirdre took the key to Clara’s home behind the stable, grateful for her friend’s generosity.
Clara leaned forward over the table near the livery’s entrance. Deirdre followed her gaze. No one was in sight. Then Clara glanced down the length of the stable.
“Who are you looking for?” Deirdre asked.
Clara didn’t answer. Instead, she grinned with barely held excitement. “I have two pieces of news to share with you, and I don’t want anyone to overhear.”
Her filthy state forgotten, Deirdre waited impatiently. It must be good, or else Clara wouldn’t care who overheard. “Well?” she prodded when her friend didn’t speak soon enough.
“We’re expecting a baby!” Clara blurted out in a hushed voice.
Deirdre squealed before slapping a dusty hand over her mouth. “Oh my goodness! I’m so happy for you. When is it coming? Wait, you’ve told your husband, haven’t you?”
Clara giggled. “Of course. But no one else, except you. I’ll go by the boardinghouse later and find Abigail, too. By my best calculations, the baby should arrive sometime after Christmas.”
“If I weren’t covered in half the stable, I’d hug you!” Deirdre clasped her hands together to keep from doing just that by accident. “Just think of everything we’ll need to do to prepare. You’ll need clothing and blankets. A cradle. Adorable little hats!”
“Are you planning on making all of these things?” Clara asked, the corners of her lips turning up in a teasing manner.
