Andy looked down at the worn wooden floorboards, his jaw working slightly. He met her gaze again, his features softening. “You make a fair point, Cassie. But it’s your money. You worked for it.”
“Which makes it our money,” she interjected gently, reaching out to touch his arm. “Think about it, won’t you?”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he nodded, placing his hand over hers. “All right, I’ll think on it. You sure have a way of making sense when I need it most.”
She gave his arm a reassuring squeeze, the corners of her mouth lifting into an affectionate smile. “That’s what I’m here for.”
CASSIE’S FINGERS TREMBLEDslightly as she placed the final stitch on the dress, the delicate fabric whispering under her touch. She held it up to the light, inspecting every seam with a critical eye. It was her finest work yet - a harmonious blend of two of her most admired designs, destined for a wedding in Dallas. A proud smile tugged at her lips.
“Ready?” Andy leaned against the doorway, his dark eyes taking in the sight of the dress.
“Ready,” Cassie affirmed, folding the garment carefully into a box lined with tissue.
Together, they boarded the train from Fort Worth to Dallas. As buildings and bustling streets replaced open fields, Cassie clutched the box closer.
“Stop worrying,” Andy nudged her gently. “Your dress is perfect. And it will be worn by the bride at some fancy wedding. Soon, there will be a herd of women trying to knock our door down to get more of your dresses.”
The wealthy woman from Dallas was all polished elegance, her scrutinizing gaze sweeping over Cassie’s offering. Relief bloomed when her stern expression melted into delight.
“Exquisite!” The woman exclaimed, tracing the lace with a gloved finger. “My daughter will be the belle of her wedding.”
Her friends, equally impressed, clustered around, murmurs of admiration filling the room. Before Cassie could catch her breath, orders for three more dresses were placed, each with a tight deadline that made her heart race.
“Can you manage it?” Andy asked quietly as they left, the weight of the task settling on her shoulders.
“I have to,” she replied, determination in her voice.
On the return journey, Andy’s voice broke the comfortable silence.
“About your offer...” He cleared his throat, the setting sun casting shadows across his strong features. “I’ll take some of that money you saved. We’ll expand the land and hire a hand.”
Cassie’s weariness from the day’s excitement was swept away by the rush of gratitude and love she felt for this man who stood by her side.
“Thank you, Andy,” Cassie said, her voice soft but full of emotion. “That means the world to me.”
“Don’t thank me. You’re the one helping me out,” he said simply, reaching out to squeeze her hand.
CASSIE SAT HUNCHEDover her sewing machine, the hum of its needle a constant companion as daylight waned into dusk. Bolts of fabric sprawled across the worktable like wildflowers in a prairie, their colors vibrant under the lamplight. Her fingers worked deftly, piecing together seams with the precision that had become her signature.
“Supper’s on the table,” Andy called from the kitchen, his voice pulling her from the trance of her craft.
“Already?” Cassie glanced at the window, surprised to see the sky painted in twilight hues. She hadn’t even noticed the passage of time.
“Yep. Made your favorite - stew.” He appeared in the doorway, an apron tied around his waist, a smile softening the rugged lines of his face.
“Thank you,” she said, standing to stretch her cramped limbs. “I didn’t realize how late it got.”
“That’s because you start work before the sun comes up and barely take time to swallow a meal before you’re at it again,” he teased, leading her to the table where a steaming pot awaited.
Cassie chuckled, but guilt gnawed at her as they sat down. In the past few days, while her focus was riveted on fulfilling dress orders, cooking had fallen by the wayside, and Andy had stepped in without complaint.
“Feels strange, not having had a hand in dinner,” she admitted, poking at the carrots in her bowl.
“Strange in a good way, I hope.” Andy raised his eyebrows, passing her the cornbread.
“Maybe for you,” Cassie sighed, taking a bite of the bread, its warmth comforting. “I feel like a terrible wife, leaving all this to you.”
“Hey now,” he reached across the table, covering her hand with his. “You’re doing what needs to be done. We’re a team, remember? I can handle pots and pans for a spell.”
