Chapter Thirty
Aidan’s neck was sunburned, his hands and shoulders were sore, and he didn’t think he’d ever get the taste of dirt and grit out of his mouth.
The day’s events had been a huge success for their family: Danny had taken second prize in his race, which everyone assured him was a grand finish for someone who had never raced before.
Antony was strutting about with a blue cockade ribbon pinned to his vest for sharpshooting; he kept subtly trying to angle himself so that the prize was within Lisa’s line of sight.
As for Aidan, Raider and Mr. Johannes had indeed given Cyprus a real fight.
The leggy gray had a stride that was far greater than Cyprus’, but Raider didn’t have the heart and stamina that Cyprus did.
It had been a magnificent showing for the stallion.
Already, Aidan was fielding stud requests.
If he could just get those contracts signed and deposits paid, he would have a real sum of money to put toward the debt— and no reason on God’s earth to sell the horse that had earned it.
He’d been carrying that sale around in his chest since the spring like a stone in a boot.
He set it down in the fairground dirt and left it there.
This also didn’t take into account Alexandra’s cleverness.
She had worked all day with Lisa, selling as many cakes and cookies as she could.
There was scarcely a table left with anything that hadn’t been claimed by the end of the day.
All the coins had been gathered up by Lisa, who was sitting at the kitchen table, tallying as quickly as she could.
Aidan paced about despite his fatigue, unable to stop glancing at the door of the house every few seconds. Everything hung on how much money they could generate today.
It’s a farce, he couldn’t help but think a little bitterly. The idea that the ranch’s fate hangs on how many pies were sold is beyond absurd.
He shook his head, pulling back to the edges of the crowd that was milling about.
The sun was setting, and everyone was full of good food and more than a bit of punch and beer.
There was part of him that wondered if all of this was really worth it, if it wouldn’t have been better to slink off quietly with whatever dignity they could scrape together.
He caught sight of Danny, covered in dirt and grinning, his red ribbon pinned proudly to his shirt.
He was surrounded by the other boys, all of them playfully shoving each other’s shoulders, laughing and generally making as much noise as a gaggle of geese.
Aidan couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Danny smiling, let alone with friends.
“Your brother’d be right proud, y’know,” Antony said, sidling up to Aidan so quietly that he hadn’t heard him approach.
“I wonder,” Aidan admitted. “I don’t know if this is what he wanted for Danny. I think he had higher ambitions for him.”
Antony stroked his mustache for a moment. “Seems to me that he’d be pleased as punch to see his boy doing so well. That’s all we can ask for with our children in the end.” A grin showed itself beneath his push broom of a mustache. “You seen the other two?”
“Why? What’s wrong?” Aidan asked, his shoulders immediately tensing again.
Antony shook his head. “Take a look over yonder,” he said, jerking his chin toward the porch.
A few straw bales had been set up for people to sit on, covered with quilts for comfort.
Bella and Gary were both curled up on a bale of straw each, their heads nearly touching.
Despite the noise, they slept soundly, worn out from the sun and the day’s excitement.
They breathed deep, their faces serene. One of Gary’s arms hung down, his fingers brushing the grass.
“Pair of proper cherubs, aren’t they?” Antony commented.
Aidan grunted. “They certainly are when they’re asleep.
” Antony made a sort of guffaw of disbelief, pushing Aidan’s arm.
“No, they’re… they’re good kids,” Aidan amended.
It was a picture of serenity, those two innocents sleeping in the fading glow of the day, one that Aidan would never have imagined possible at the beginning of summer.
Alexandra emerged from the house and stood on the porch, searching the crowd. Aidan stepped forward, catching her eye. He would never forget the way that she looked in that moment as long as he lived—he was certain of that even as it was happening.
Her cheeks and the tip of her nose were sun-kissed, pink and rosy, and her eyes were bright with excitement.
Her hair was threatening to escape its moorings, curls twisting out here and there around her face.
When her eyes met his, her face lifted, not exactly smiling, but more like she was just quietly happy to see him.
She stepped lightly down from the porch, weaving her way through the crowd to Aidan. He was too afraid to move, worried that it wouldn’t be enough, that their entire future had been thrown into uncertainty. The children, Alexandra, and Lisa were all depending on him, and if he had failed…
He shut that thought down as hard as if he’d stomped on it. He waited stiffly for Alexandra to come to him, breathing heavily.
“We’ve done better than I dared hope,” she panted. “Aidan, it’s more than this ranch has taken in all summer.”
Aidan stared at her, not sure he could be hearing her correctly. “How much?”
“Two hundred and forty-six dollars.” She laughed at the sound of it in her own mouth.
“And sixty cents, though I don’t suppose the sixty cents will decide anything.
I’ve run it twice—I kept the shop’s books for six years, and I don’t make mistakes with figures.
” She hesitated. “I ought to take over Danny’s arithmetic before long, I think. ”
Two hundred and forty-six dollars. Aidan turned the number over and over. He had no earthly notion whether it was enough, on account of nobody having yet troubled themselves to tell him what enough was. But it was a great deal of money. It was more money than he’d had in one place in two years.
Standing there in the last of the light, he decided that it would be enough. Some small and sensible part of him observed that he had no business deciding any such thing. He paid that part no mind.
A smile spread across his face, matching hers.
They stood there, just smiling at each other like two fools.
Night was truly falling now, and people were hanging lanterns in the short trees and placing them on the tables.
Alexandra and Aidan were left in the shadows, out of reach of everyone else, in their own sphere for the moment.
Around them, the tables had been moved, leaving an open space in the yard in front of the house.
Someone had broken out a fiddle, which wasn’t played with particular skill, but plenty of enthusiasm.
Antony joined in, playing a harmonica, while a third man in beaten coveralls kept time on an upturned bucket.
People were beginning to pair off, arranging themselves for lively country polkas and waltzes, fairly galloping over the sparse grass.
Aidan watched them all for a moment, the ladies clutching the arms of their partners as they tripped lightly around the perimeter, whooping and laughing as they went. Gripped by sudden impulse and the pure relief of the moment, Aidan seized Alexandra by the hand.
“Dance with me,” he said suddenly, clearly catching her by surprise.
She blinked up at him from behind her spectacles, casting a dubious look at the dancers. “I’m not sure I know the steps,” she said uneasily. “It’s not really much of a dance floor.”
Aidan grinned at her again. “That’s fine,” he reassured her. “I’m not really much of a dancer.”
His frankness made her laugh, and he could feel her relenting. Taking her hand and tucking it into the crook of his elbow, Aidan led her out of the shadows and into the throng of dancers.
The townspeople immediately noticed their arrival, the dancers slowing and turning awkwardly so that they could cast lingering looks their way.
On his arm, he could feel Alexandra hesitate, ducking her head a little to avoid their scrutinizing stares.
While they had seen her all day, Aidan realized that this was the first time that they’d seen her on his arm—this was the first time they’d appeared as man and wife before the town, other than the day of their wedding.
He placed his hand over hers where it rested on his elbow. Alexandra looked up at him, and as she did so, all of the tension left her face. She smiled up at him openly, her expression warm and affectionate. She gave his elbow a faint squeeze.
They moved to the side, waiting for a gap in the other dancers.
They faced one another, Alexandra looking nervously at the other couples whirling about.
Aidan, however, couldn’t take his eyes off her.
It was hard to tell if there was something different about her, or if he was simply seeing her as he ought to have been the whole time she was there.
His eyes roved over her: her sun-kissed cheeks, the faint dusting of freckles beginning to show from being out in the sun so much, her doll-like green eyes.
Even the tip of her nose was pink, so adorably so that Aidan couldn’t help but smile.
No one, least of all himself, would have believed that there was such resourcefulness hidden in a body that appeared so soft.
Alexandra went up on her toes as a small opening appeared.
Aidan, shaken back to his senses, leaped into action, taking Alexandra about the waist and whirling with her into the midst of the other dancers.
He couldn’t hear her little squeak of surprise over the music, but he could feel and see it, and it made him chuckle.
She was so much shorter than him that he had briefly pulled her right off her feet, and she clung to him until her boots touched dirt again.