Free Unbroken Hearts by Anna Murray Page A

breeze
lapping against bare skin. Emily shook the bell to call the brothers to supper.
         Within a few minutes the Easton men came strolling in
from the far side of the barn, towels slung over their shoulders. Wet snippets
of hair clung around the corners of their faces.
         Cal used his good arm to hold the door open
when they entered the house. Rich smells of stew and biscuits embraced them.
The men didn't bother to check contented smiles.
         "Mmmmm, we must be in heaven."
Roy had completely forgotten his brother's earlier admonition.  
         Cal simply inhaled deeply.  
         A flush began edging its way across
Sarah's face. "Oh, well, it isn't much."   She made her way to the table
         Cal brushed lightly against Sarah's
backside as he passed her to take his seat. He'd brought his mother up next to
his chair, and he slid her plate close beside his own, noting that the girls
had laid down a tablecloth and matching plates. The womanly touch reminded him
of the days when his mother presided over Montana's most elegant and lively
table, back when people throughout the territory placed great stock in an
invitation to Sunday dinner at Elizabeth Easton's place. Theirs was known as
the ranch where eastern grace and elegance cantered harmoniously with fine
western humor. Elizabeth and John Easton had been as unlikely a match as night
and day, but like bass and soprano voices when they came together they'd
complemented and contrasted at once to produce sweet music.  
         Sarah ladled the stew onto each plate. She
passed the pan of biscuits. Emily and Sarah, now starved, struggled to maintain
the pretense of being ladies as their forks hit the food. The men pretended not
to notice the two girls wolfishly gulping.
         "I've never had better
biscuits," commented Cal, after recovering from the sight of such
unladylike food consumption. His gaze flickered to Sarah and he waved his free
hand. "We usually grab some grub from the chuck crew," he explained.
"And Nettie brings us a pie and jelly now and again." His eyes
remained fixed on Sarah as he punched down thoughts about how a woman had a way
of making a house into a home. He reminded himself that, for him, the luxury of
a woman usually came with a steep price.
          "Oh, it's not so much,"
she deflected his praise. Sarah's jade eyes traveled to Mrs. Easton's face.
"I'd bet your cooking is much better, ma'am."
         Cal felt oddly stung by her inability to
accept his compliment. "Sure, Mama's known clean through the territory for
her cooking," he tersely ceded.  
         Locked in his gaze, the strange feeling
that she was looking at a vision from a dream ran through her. If Cal was aware
of her response he didn't show it. Instead he turned his attention to his mama.
He gently guided graying hair away from the woman's face. Then his rough cowboy
hands patiently offered her small spoonfuls of gravy, waiting until she had
completely swallowed each one before giving her more.
         "You must be hungry, Mama,"
commented Roy. He threw a wink at Sarah and grinned. "She likes your
stew." Then he swung his eyes across the table to meet up with Cal.
"Brother, you're having one mighty fine birthday."
         Cal nodded. "Yep. I can't wait to get
in some target practice with my new rifle!"
         Sarah cast her eyes downward. Her thoughts
were a flurry of confusing disappointment. Of course a rifle was the most
treasured gift! He would no doubt forget her and Emily after tomorrow.
         Roy glanced at Sarah and flashed Cal a
sharp look. Cal Easton was a man who used words carefully, and now he sat
between two fires. He bristled as he struggled to come up with the proper ones
to smooth over his omission. His eyes flickered past Sarah and rested safely on
Emily.  
         "Um, of course this delicious supper,
and meeting you fine ladies, has made this a special day . . . one that I won't
soon forget," he added awkwardly.