Free A Promise for Spring by Kim Vogel Sawyer

touch. “It is very nice to meet you, Mr. Cotler.”
    Cotler gave her another nod and turned to Geoffrey. “Mr. Garrett, I left lanterns burning for you and a supper in the hob. It’s nothing fancy—just a maw stew—but if you are hungry, it will fill you.”
    The foreman’s rough appearance did not extend to his speech. His voice was well modulated and proper. Remembering the railroad workers’ and Tildy and Ronald Senger’s rough talk, Mr. Cotler’s formality was welcome to her ears.
    “Thank you, Chris,” Geoffrey returned. He pointed into the back of the wagon. “I will prevail upon you to carry Emmaline’s trunk into the house. The horses will need caring for, and then you may turn in for the evening.”
    A prickle of trepidation crept over Emmaline’s scalp as she listened to Geoffrey’s orders. His ease in delivering commands sounded too much like Father—too much like the man who had ordered her to don her wedding dress earlier that day. Might he turn into that man again and deliver more orders to her?
    “Certainly, Mr. Garrett,” Chris agreed amiably. But first he put two fingers in his mouth and blew a shrill whistle.
    Another man came around the corner of the house at a trot. This man, too, was casually attired in tan dungarees and a plaid shirt, but he bore no whiskers on his face. As he neared, Emmaline realized he was a boy of perhaps fourteen. When he spotted Geoffrey and Emmaline, he grinned and came to a stumbling halt directly in front of Emmaline. “Welcome to Chetwynd Valley, Mrs. Garrett! It’s very good to have you here! It seemed as though you would never arrive, but now here you are. Did you have a good trip?”
    Emmaline pressed a hand to her throat. How should she respond to the affable lad?
    Geoffrey cleared his throat, his cheeks twitching with silent laughter. “Emmaline, please meet Jim Cotler. Jim is Chris’s younger brother, and also one of my hands. Although he still has some growing to do, he’s the best shearer around. And, as you have no doubt already realized, he is not timid.”
    Jim remained close to Emmaline, his face split with a friendly grin.
    Chris released a low-toned chuckle. “Now, Mr. Garrett, you know after all the talking you’ve done, we feel as if we already know Mrs. Garrett.” He smiled broadly at Emmaline, his teeth a flash of white in the waning light.
    Heat suffused Emmaline’s cheeks. She hoped the sun was low enough that it would hide her embarrassment.
    Chris moved to the tail of the wagon. “Come over here, Jim, and help me carry in Mrs. Garrett’s travel box. Then we must leave these newlyweds alone.”
    Newlyweds! Emmaline’s heart clamored at that word. “Oh, please, Mr. Cotler and . . .” How should she address the youngster who was also a ranch hand? “Jim—”
    “Come along, Emmaline.” Geoffrey hurried Emmaline toward the house with his hand at the small of her back.
    The pressure of his warm palm rendered her speechless once more. She stood uncertainly in the middle of the planked floor and watched the two ranch hands carry her trunk over the threshold.
    They dropped the big box with a thud, and then each gave a nod of good-bye.
    Geoffrey turned to face Emmaline with an unreadable expression. Why hadn’t he explained their arrangement to the Cotler brothers? Suddenly, she realized she was miles from any town, at the mercy of whatever Geoffrey chose to do to her. What if he chose not to honor their agreement? What if he began issuing commands?
    On shaky legs, she moved to her trunk and pressed her knees against the solid wood. She wished she could open the lid and cower beneath her folded clothing. Geoffrey cleared his throat, and she held her breath waiting for him to speak.
    “Would you like to see the house?”
    Her jaw dropped at this unexpected, gently toned question. Slowly she turned to face him. He stood near the door, his hat in his hands, his face hopeful. Instantly, a long-buried memory surfaced. In her mind’s