Chapter Four
Cassandra and Andrew stood hesitantly before the bed, the reality of their wedding night sending a thrill of anticipation tinged with nervousness through them both.
“Shall we...?” Andy’s voice trailed off, his dark eyes seeking hers for consent.
Cassie nodded, her heart fluttering like the wings of a trapped sparrow. She watched as Andy’s hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, the normally steady fingers betraying his unfamiliarity with this most intimate of moments.
“Here, let me,” Cassie said, her hands surprisingly steady as she helped him. The fabric parted to reveal the solid chest she had only imagined under the layers of clothes he wore during the day.
“Thank you,” he murmured, his lips curving into a shy smile that made her feel at ease, despite the circumstances.
Together, they discovered the rhythm of each other’s bodies, awkward at first but soon moving together in a dance that felt ancient. Laughter mingled with soft sighs, the sound sweeter than any symphony to their ears as they embraced the newness of marriage.
MORNING LIGHT PEEKEDthrough the curtains when Cassie woke. Andy still slept, his breath steady and even. Slipping from the bed, she dressed quickly and tiptoed to the kitchen. She set about making breakfast, cracking eggs into a bowl. She’d mademore meals than she could count, something that had been part of the learning of all the female orphans at the foundling home.
By the time Andy came in, wiping his hands on his trousers after milking the cows and collecting eggs, the smells of cooking filled the small house.
“Good morning,” Cassie greeted him, setting a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of him.
“Morning, Cassie.” Andy’s voice was gruff with sleep, but his smile was wide. “This looks wonderful. I have to admit, I wasn’t thinking about marriage bringing me better meals until just this second.”
As they ate, Cassie ventured into the silence with her dream, “I’ve been thinking...I’d like to start a dressmaker’s shop. I love to sew, and I design dresses for my friends. I’m very good.”
Andy paused, his fork mid-air. “That’s a fine idea, Cassie. A real fine idea.”
“Really?” She looked up, hope etching her features.
“Of course. You’re a talented seamstress, and it would be good for us—good for the ranch.”
“I didn’t know if...”
“Listen,” he interrupted gently. “If you want to start building up clients, you should do it. And I’ll make you a small separate room for your work. How does that sound?”
“Perfect,” Cassie breathed, her heart soaring. The simple breakfast suddenly tasted like the finest feast, and the future seemed brighter than she had imagined it ever could.
ANDY HOISTED THE LASThay bale onto the wagon, his muscles burning pleasantly with the effort. As he straightened up and wiped the sweat from his brow, his thoughts wandered to Cassie. He chuckled to himself, thinking how different she wasfrom the women he’d known before—serious about her work, sure, but with a dry sense of humor that caught him off guard. And she didn’t want children. A rare thing for a woman in these parts, but it suited Andy just fine. The fact that Cassie shared his disinterest in parenthood felt like a stroke of luck.
“Good fortune indeed,” he muttered to himself, a grin spreading across his face. With his dream of expanding the ranch and Cassie’s of opening her own dressmaker’s shop, they were set to be quite the team.
Inside the house, Cassie hummed a tune while she swept the already spotless floor. The early morning light streamed through the windows, casting warm patches on the wooden planks. She imagined every corner of their home filled with rolls of fabric, the chatter of satisfied customers, and the steady rhythm of her sewing machine.
“First things first,” she said aloud, setting the broom aside and surveying the tidy room. “I need my sewing machine from Susan’s.” Her mind whirred with plans as she thought about a piece of fabric she had brought along when they’d come from Massachusetts. It was a lovely shade of blue, one that made her eyes stand out even more.
“Imagine wearing a dress of my own creation to church,” she thought, the idea blooming in her mind like wildflowers in spring. “I’ll make myself a dress, and everyone will see what I can do.”
She pictured the admiring glances and the whispers of inquiry, the potential orders that might follow. Cassie could almost hear the snip of her scissors and the whisper of the fabric as she cut into it, creating something beautiful and desired.
“Then they’ll come, one by one, eager for a dress of their own,” she whispered with determination. “And my dream won’t be just a dream any longer.”
CASSIE SET THE PLATESdown with a clink, her hands steady despite the flutter in her chest. Across the table, Andy paused, his spoon halfway to his mouth. The savory aroma of stew filled the modest kitchen as the golden light of sunset spilled through the window, bathing everything in a warm glow.
“Andy,” Cassie began, her voice soft but sure, “I’ve been thinking about how I want to start my business.”
He chewed slowly, then set his fork down, his dark eyes meeting hers with interest. “Tell me more,” he said, the corners of his mouth lifting into an encouraging smile.
With each detail she shared, Andy’s smile widened. “Cassie, that’s a good idea. Let’s fetch your machine from Susan’s tonight.”
The ride to the Daileys’ house was filled with talk of patterns and fabrics, the wagon bouncing along the dusty road as stars began to dot the evening sky.
