Chapter Eight
Cassie watched the horse-drawn carriage grow closer, her heart drumming a rapid beat against her ribs. The visitor from Dallas had finally arrived, bringing with her the critical gaze of high society and the chance for Cassie to realize a dream she’d nursed alongside every stitch and hem.
It had only been six months since she’d arrived in Texas, and already it felt as if all of her dreams were coming true. If she could get this client, then possibly, she would be in a position to get more just like her.
The carriage creaked to a stop in front of the ranch house, where Cassie stood smoothing the fabric of her apron. A woman stepped out, her dress finer than any Cassie had ever laid eyes on, with layers of silk that whispered secrets of wealth and status. She introduced herself as Mrs. Montgomery.
“Mrs. Forsythe, I’ve come quite a ways,” Mrs. Montgomery said, eyeing the humble surroundings before her gaze landed on Cassie’s portfolio of designs laid out on the porch table.
“Please, call me Cassie,” she replied, with a polite nod, guiding the woman to her work.
As Mrs. Montgomery perused the sketches, her lips pursed in an expression that could curdle milk. Cassie felt the gnawing twist of worry in her belly. Would her work meet this critical eye? She tried to keep her tone light and hopeful. “I’ve got a variety of styles here. Each one is my own design.”
“I see.” Mrs. Montgomery’s finger hovered over two drawings. “My daughter is getting married. I want something unique—a blend of these two designs.”
“Absolutely,” Cassie responded, her mind already racing through the logistics of combining the elegant bodice of one with the flowing skirt of the other. “I can do that.”
“Can you?” Mrs. Montgomery challenged, her scrutinizing gaze not letting up. “It must be perfect. My daughter deserves nothing less.”
Cassie nodded, her confidence a brittle shell that she prayed didn’t crack. “It will be. Perfect, I mean.”
They spent a moment discussing the price, and Cassie felt her heart jump into her throat when Mrs. Montgomery didn’t quibble with the price she asked, which was double what she would normally charge.
“Very well. I expect nothing short of excellence.” With those parting words, Mrs. Montgomery turned, leaving Cassie with the weight of expectation pressing down on her shoulders.
“Perfect,” Cassie whispered to herself, watching the carriage roll away.
CASSIE THREADED HERneedle with a fresh length of ivory silk. She heard the familiar creak of the porch as Andy stepped up from the dusty yard, his shadow briefly eclipsing the light.
“Evening, Cassie,” he called out.
“Evening, Andy.” She set her sewing aside, her fingers still tingling with the excitement and dread of her new commission. “You ever have one of those moments when you wonder if you’ve bitten off more than you can chew?”
Andy leaned against the door frame, a smile tugging at his lips. “Every time I look out at that herd wondering if they’ll make it through winter. But you, Cassie, you’re the best seamstress in the county. Mrs. Montgomery’s daughter will be the envy of Dallas when she’s wearing one of your creations.”
His confidence was like a balm to her frayed nerves. “Thank you, Andy. I needed to hear that.” She glanced up at him, noting the furrow between his brows, a telltale sign that his mind was turning over something serious.
“Speaking of biting off more than we can chew,” he started, scratching at the stubble on his chin, “I’ve been saving for a good while now, and I’m at a bit of crossroads.” He paused, considering his words. “I can either expand the ranch, buy some adjoining land I’ve had my eye on, or get some help around here, hire an extra hand. But I can’t swing both, not with the way money’s tight.”
Cassie pondered his dilemma, her own worries momentarily set aside. “That’s a tough choice, Andy. But whatever you decide, it’ll be the right call. You’ve got a head for these things.”
“Maybe so,” he replied, his dark eyes reflecting a mix of hope and caution. “But it sure would be easier if I could just do both, wouldn’t it?”
“Wouldn’t we all like that,” she said with a chuckle, picking up her needlework again. “But we make do, don’t we? And we make it work.”
“We do,” Andy agreed, stepping into the house to wash up for supper, leaving Cassie to her stitches and thoughts, the last rays of sunlight winking out behind the horizon.
Cassie set her needlework aside, folding it carefully before placing it in her sewing basket. She rose from the chair on the porch, her skirts rustling softly as she stepped through the doorway into the cozy warmth of the kitchen where Andy was washing his hands at the basin.
“Andy,” she said, “I’ve been doing some thinking.”
He turned, drying his hands on a cloth, a questioning look in his dark eyes. “Oh? What’s on your mind?”
“I’ve got some money saved up,” Cassie said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “From my teaching days backEast. It’s not a fortune, but...do you think it could help with your decision? About the land or hiring help?”
Andy stopped mid-wipe, his brow creasing. “You’d do that?” he asked, a note of hesitation in his voice. “Put your hard-earned savings into this ranch?”
She walked over to him, her eyes earnest. “Of course, I would. I spend your money on groceries and whatever else without a second thought. It’s only right. We’re partners in this, aren’t we?”
