Chapter 6
Hyacinth scraped at the frosted front window and tried to see outside, but after the snow had fallen all last night and now throughout the morning, the blowing snow filled the air, turning the landscape into a blur of white.
“What if they got lost in the snow and won’t be able to make it back?” Violet stood beside Hyacinth at the large picture window that faced the front of the ranch and the sprawling pasture beyond. She was attempting to peer outside too, through a spot she’d melted in the crusted-over window.
“Sterling is a smart man,” Hyacinth replied. “If they ran into trouble, I’m sure he found a safe place to take shelter.” At least, she hoped so. And at least Beckett was a savvy rancher as well. Together, the two were probably keeping the cattle and other ranch hands safe during the storm.
Violet glanced again at the big grandfather clock on the wall.
The hands were nearing the noon hour. That meant the men had been gone a solid eighteen hours since they’d ridden out last evening to the north fields where the cattle had been grazing.
They’d intended to herd the cattle closer to the ranch, especially the calves.
But it shouldn’t have taken them so long. Even Hyacinth, as ignorant as she was in the ways of ranching, knew that.
Violet scratched at the window again to form a larger patch of bare glass to look out of. Her fingers trembled as she did so. “I don’t know what I’d do without Sterling.”
“Let’s not jump to the worst conclusions.” Even as Hyacinth issued the warning, she was picturing the group huddled somewhere in the middle of a field, trying to survive the whiteout conditions. How long could they last in the open in a storm like this?
She tried not to let her mind wander to the image of Beckett, but it did.
Especially to the way he’d looked when she’d pulled back from kissing him.
His face had been ruggedly handsome, with the tautness of his muscles and the twitch in his jaw.
His hair had been mussed, and his chest had been hard.
More than that, his blue eyes had contained a hot flame that had scorched her. She’d felt that heat the rest of the day and long into the night. Even now, as she replayed the kiss they’d shared, the heat coursed through her stomach again.
Since it was her first kiss, she didn’t know if that kind of kissing was normal and average.
If she kissed Mr. Gray, would his kiss affect her the same way?
She’d tried to imagine pressing her lips to Mr. Gray’s the same way she had to Beckett’s, but she couldn’t conjure up any desire to share an intimate moment with her suitor, and not just because he was older.
The truth was, Beckett had an innate magnetism that had been there for a while. Her reaction to seeing his body as he’d washed up had been visceral. She’d felt a tug toward him, a responding attraction.
The other truth was that she didn’t feel any of that with Mr. Gray. He didn’t hold an innate appeal. And she didn’t have a visceral attraction. There really wasn’t anything between them other than simple companionship.
The biggest question was whether she could facilitate more over time?
Could they have at least a little bit of that attraction between them?
Maybe they would never be able to—well, to consummate their marriage in the usual way.
But they could enjoy kissing and hugging and being together, couldn’t they?
“I love Sterling so much,” Violet whispered as she wiped tears from her cheeks. “And I haven’t had the chance to tell him that I’m . . .”
“That you’re expecting?” Hyacinth offered.
Violet took a step back, her eyes widening. “How did you know?”
Hyacinth smiled at her sister, who was a more delicate version of herself, having the same dark hair and green eyes, but with a daintier face and a more petite body.
“I’ve known for the past few days, since you missed your courses.” Hyacinth didn’t mince words.
“You’re so observant.”
Hyacinth shrugged. “Sometimes I know you better than you know yourself.”
The lanterns burning on the side tables cast a soft amber over Violet, making her radiant. Or maybe it was her pregnancy glow.
Violet laid a hand over her still-flat stomach. “Sterling will be so excited.”
“Very.”
The wind rushed down the chimney and into the fireplace, causing the fire to spark. Sparks like she’d felt with Beckett. She couldn’t deny that what she’d felt with him was exciting and thrilling and enjoyable all at the same time.
Would a second kiss with him be the same, or would the newness start to wear off with each kiss? It didn’t seem that the passion was waning between Sterling and Violet. But then again, they loved each other with a love that defied words.
Hyacinth wasn’t looking for love, didn’t expect to replicate what Violet had. And that was okay.
“It’ll happen someday to you too,” Violet offered softly, probably mistaking Hyacinth’s silence for sadness. “Maybe with Mr. Gray?”
Hyacinth shook her head. “Mr. Gray told me yesterday he’s unable to have children.”
“Oh.” Violet’s expression tightened with dismay.
“It’s okay.” But was it? Would she miss out on something special if she chose Mr. Gray? Maybe he could give her wealth and comfort and luxury. But would she eventually regret not having a family? Not having love and passion?
Violet clasped Hyacinth’s hands. “You don’t have to continue courting him.”
“I know. But he is a kind man and will be able to give me everything I’ve ever wanted.”
Violet was silent for a long moment, and they could hear the sound of the wind battering the house, whistling through the windowpanes and rattling the stovepipes.
Violet finally released a breath. “We’ve both been affected by all that happened in our parents’ marriage.”
Early last year, Violet had run away from her groom, Sterling Noble, on her wedding day.
At that point, Mother had finally left Father and Colorado.
With Hyacinth and Violet along, Mother had returned to Virginia, where the three of them had been doing just fine without Father until Mother’s unexpected death.
Upon hearing of Mother’s passing, Father had invited Violet and Hyacinth back to Breckenridge to live with him.
Violet had insisted on accepting Father’s offer, and a part of Hyacinth had known Violet wanted to return to Colorado because she was still in love with Sterling.
Shortly after they’d moved back in with Father, they’d learned he’d lost his employment with the local bank and was in trouble over gambling debt.
They’d also discovered that he’d made a bargain to use both of his daughters as dance hall girls to pay off the debt.
She and Violet had run away rather than subject themselves to such degradation. Because they’d been penniless, homeless, and friendless, Violet had turned to Sterling for help, hoping he might not completely hate her for breaking his heart and ruining their wedding.
Violet had been wrong. Sterling had hated her. At least at first. Then he’d fallen in love with her all over again. This time the two had worked through the issues that had kept them apart. They’d had another wedding and were happy together.
Even so, Violet was right that they’d both been shaped by their parents’ problems.
“I ran away from love in my own way,” Violet continued. “And maybe you are too.”
“It’s possible,” Hyacinth conceded.
“But it doesn’t have to be that way.” Violet’s voice held a note of conviction. “You once encouraged me to face my fears and stop running. And now it’s my turn to encourage you to do the same and ask you to consider marrying for love.”
“Love didn’t help Mother. It destroyed her.”
“We don’t have to be like Mother.”
“That’s exactly why I’m choosing someone who is as different from Father as possible.”
Violet’s pretty brow was furrowed. “Then give it some time. You’re still young—”
“Violet, you know I love you.” Hyacinth paced away from her sister. “But it’s time for me to move out and start a life of my own.”
Violet didn’t immediately respond.
“I’m not really needed here anymore—”
“I love having you here.”
“But you have Sterling, and you’re busy with him.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll try to make more time for you—”
“No!” Hyacinth pushed down a swell of frustration at herself for fumbling through the explanation. “That’s not necessary. I’m happy for the two of you.”
Before Violet could respond, a thudding of footsteps came from the front porch.
Violet gasped and raced toward the hallway. “Please, God. Let it be Sterling.”
Hyacinth hurried after her sister. She hoped it was Sterling too. And Beckett. Even if she couldn’t exist in the same space as the man, she didn’t want him to suffer out in the cold and snow.
The front door banged open to a flurry of snow and wind. A large man stepped through, his long coat and cowboy hat covered in snow. His bandanna was pulled up over his nose so that only his eyes showed. Sterling’s light-brown eyes.
As Violet took him in, she screeched with happiness, her feet flying the last of the distance toward him.
Hyacinth sucked in a relieved breath, but at the same time, scrutinized the blowing snow outside for a sign of the others. Had everyone made it?
Violet flung herself at Sterling, heedless of the snow covering him. Sterling seemed heedless too. In the next instant, he’d bent and captured Violet’s mouth with his, moving hungrily as if he’d starved without her and needed her more than anything else.
Hyacinth usually rolled her eyes at the kissing or ignored it.
But today, the sight of the two in the intimate embrace sent a hot ripple through her.
She was no longer na?ve about what kissing was like.
She now knew what they were both feeling—or at least had a taste of it.
She’d experienced a kiss like that, and it had been so delectable that a part of her desperately craved more.