He walked over and took the music box out of her hand and laid it back under the tree with the lid still open. He removed his bearskin coat, leaving him in his wool capote, and then he turned to her and extended his arm, palm upward. “May I have this dance, Miss Erindelle?”
Elise couldn’t speak. So she did the only thing she could, she accepted his hand. He gently pulled her within the circle of his arms, his left resting on the curve of her waist while he brought their enclosed right hands upward. And then he began to lead her in a waltz.
It took a moment before the movement returned to her, for it had been years since she’d danced with her father, who had taught her the steps. But she quickly discovered that Chauncey was quite accomplished, as he easily led her around the flowers in the hothouse and made up for any of her blunders. She closed her eyes and smiled, taken back to a place in her youth when things had been more carefree, where she didn’t have the burden of the world on her shoulders and she could run among the hills in childish abandon and let her imagination roam as wild as the forest surrounding her.
However, when she opened her eyes, the image of those days vanished, to be replaced with the growing desires of a woman. This man, this Canadian outlaw, with hiscoal black hair and beardwitheyes as dark asthe sky at midnight, stirred something inside of her that she had never thought to feel.She had resigned herself to this isolated cabin in the woods, because she imagined that this was all she would ever have—that it was all she deserved because she was different.Or, at least, that’s how some of the people in Charming had made her think of herself.
With Chauncey, the only thing she saw was a future with endless possibilities, a true home, a family with children and—love.
Elise stopped abruptly.
Shelovedhim.
His forehead creased as their dance ended. “Elise? Is something wrong?”
She shook her head and whispered, “No. Nothing.” She forced a smile. “Thank you for the gift, Mr. Cade. I will treasure it always.” She turned away. “But I really need to tend to my flowers.”
With that, she shut the lid on the music box and filled the hothouse with silence.
***
Chauncey wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong, but he knew when he was being dismissed. Heput his bearskin back on andsnorted as he walked back to the cabin. Women were such a conundrum. As long as he’d known Martha, having been childhood sweethearts, there were still times when she had made him wonder what was going through her mind.
He paused as he stepped inside the door, in the process of removing his outerwear.Perhaps she was upset that he’d given her something that had belonged to his deceased wife, although he’d made the wooden case that the mechanism was housed in. But then, it was all he’d had to offer. It wasn’t as though he had ample opportunity to head down the mountain to the Miracle Mercantile and procure something special. For him, Elise was everything that music box embodied—charm, uniqueness, and even a part of himself, for he had worked tirelessly to make sure it was perfect, having given it to Martha on their one year anniversary, just before Thomas was born.
If that was what had truly distressed her, then it was good he had one more trick up his sleeve. But he wouldn’t show his final ace until later that evening.
Chauncey rubbed his hands together by the fire to warm himself, and then he set to work in the kitchen. He hoped that he wasn’t overstepping, but he’d decided that morning that it wasn’t right that Elise should have to make a birthday cake for herself. And while he wasn’t as accomplished in the kitchen, he knew how to operate a stove. All he needed was a recipe to get started.
He glanced around the expanse and found one that looked as though it had seen quite a bit of love, for the pages were stained and crinkled from use. Surely there was a favorite chocolate cake recipe in there somewhere. He flipped through the pages until he came across one written in a neat feminine script.
A smile crossed his features as he began to gather the ingredients.
Chapter Ten
Elise stayed outside in her hothouse longer than she normally did, but then, she hoped that her eyes weren’t too red rimmed or swollen, proof of her emotional breakdown in the middle of the peonies. She chided herself more than once regarding her shameful behavior toward Mr. Cade after he’d been so thoughtful in giving her that magnificent music box. She’d never seen its equal before, and she doubted she ever would again.
She was sitting on the solitary bench amid the flowers with the box in her lap. She traced the outline of the delicate dove on top and frowned slightly. She had no doubt that this must have belonged to the former Mrs. Cade. No doubt Chauncey assumed that was what had brought on her sudden coldness, butthatcouldn’t be further from the truth. She was touched that he would give her something that had obviously meant so much to him. The memories attached to it must be acute, and yet, he’d wanted her to have it. Just like Beau’s welfare, he entrusted her with the things that hadany sort of valueto him.
Little did he know that he held her heart in the palm of his hands.
Elise sighed heavily. How could she tell him that she’d fallen in love with him?Shouldshe even tell him? Pouring her heart out would surely make things more painful for both of them if the authorities arrived to cart him away like he imagined they soon would. Whereas, if she kept herlovelocked up inside, he could face trial without another burden to bear.
That’s it then. She would keep her secrets to herself until such time his name could be cleared. Buthow would she even go about offering her assistance?
She thought for a moment and decided that perhaps it was time she made a trip down to Charming. She could tell Mr. Cade that she intended to pick up some more supplies from the Mercantile, but instead, she would seek out Grannie’s advice. The older woman had always been there when she needed her, offering a kind ear when the other children had made her life difficult, and sage advice when she’d asked. And if there was ever a time she needed a friendly, familiar face, it was now, when her emotions were so jumbled together, twisted and gnarled like the roots of a tree.
Shestoodand gathered her cloak around her. Holding the music box close to her, she left the hothouse and returned to the cabin.
However, the moment she walked in, chaos ensued. The small interior was filled with billowing white smoke. At first she feared that the chimney flue had clogged again, but that was generally during the spring when the birds decided to build a nest inside it.
But then she noticed Chauncey in the kitchen with a strip of linen. He was coughing and saying a few choice words as he attempted to clear the air from the charred pan of…something. It was hard to even decipher what it was he’d been trying to prepare.
“I’d prefer that my house isn’t burned to the ground on my birthday.”
He instantly glanced up. It was obvious he’d been too preoccupied trying to clean up his messto be aware ofwhat was going on around him,since he hadn’t heard her return. He lowered his arms with a chagrined look on his face. “I didn’t want you to have to make your own cake,” he muttered.
Elise couldn’t help but smile as she removed her boots, hung up her cloak and tied her apron around her waist. She touched his arm as she walked past him to inspect the damage.The “cake” in the pan resembled a piece of scorched firewood,butthere didn’t seem to be anythingelseamissother thana bit of flour he’d failed to wipe off the counter. Thankfully, it could have been much worse.
