Free The Ruby Brooch (The Celtic Brooch Trilogy) by Katherine Logan Page B

between his teeth and closed down on the stem with a click.
    “She’s a pretty girl,” Sarah said.
    “It’ll take more than a pretty face to keep that boy’s interest. He’s got plans,” John said.
    Sarah turned to Kit giving her a worried sigh. “Mr. Montgomery’s been talking to him about going to a university, but I don’t know where the money would come from.”
    “Money will work out.” John pointed his pipe toward Kit. “The boy did fine work today. If you have problems, go to Adam directly. If he don’t do what you ask, you come to me.”
    “He’s a fine young man. I can't imagine having—”
    “Pa.” Elizabeth ran toward her father with arms flapping like a baby bird unable to fly. Tate trotted at her heels.
    “Pa.” Frances mimicked her sister’s scream, but instead of waving her arms she half-carried a dangling cat. Tabor’s paws pushed against her tummy trying to either hold on or make a quick escape.
    Alarm spread across John’s face. “What’s got you two so riled up?”
    “Indians.”
    He pulled the girls into his arms. “Nothing a’tall to be scared of. Indians around these parts are friendly.”
    Elizabeth wrapped an arm around her pa’s neck. “Are you sure?”
    “Yep.”
    “Have you seen Indians before, Mrs. MacKlenna?” Frances asked, nestled against her father.
    Kit caught Tabor’s bottom half just as the cat slipped from the child’s hold. ”I've seen Indians, but to be correct, we should call them by either their tribal name or Native Americans.”
    John tapped his teeth with his pipe. “That’s an odd name to be calling ‘em.”
    Kit gulped. “That’s… ah…that’s what my father used to say.”
    “No matter what you call ‘em, they're still Indians, and I hope none of ‘em tries to steal that stallion of yours.”
    “He’s a magnificent horse. Take a special mare to be bred to the likes of him.” Cullen brushed her thigh again as he stretched his legs.
    She didn’t think it was intentional, but it was disconcerting, and her leg tingled. When Sarah stood and gathered up a handful of dishes, Kit snagged two pots and ran from Cullen’s errant leg, but she couldn’t run from what his touch did to her insides.
     

    AN HOUR LATER, with the dishes scraped and scoured, and the beans put on to soak for the next day’s meal, Kit took a moment to stir some thoughts. What an exhausting day, the first of seventy-three. Could she—
    “Folks will be dancing tonight at the Camerons,” Sarah said.
    “I’m sorry. What’d you say?”
    Sarah poured out the dirty dishwater. “Dancing at the Camerons.”
    Dancing? Even if she had the energy, she didn’t have a partner. “What time?” Kit asked, trying to show some enthusiasm.
    “Young folks will gather soon as the old ones start yawning.”
    “Don’t think I’m up for dancing, but I’d enjoy listening to the music.”
    Sarah dried her hands on her apron and gave Kit a sympathetic look. “You can mourn that man you lost, but you can’t quit living. Music fills up inside of you and spills out all cool and bubbly. Makes folks feel good. Saw that today. Saw joy on the girls’ faces. Saw joy on yours.”
    “Well…”
    “You get yourself up there to the Camerons. One of those young men will ask you to dance, and you say yes. And don’t give a thought to what your husband would say. He’s gone now, and you need to get on with your life.”
    “Are you going, or are you sending me off by myself?”
    “John and I’ll be there soon enough. You run along. You’ll be welcome as family. Now, git.”
    Kit wiped her hands down her skirt to smooth away the wrinkles. “Speaking of family, I hope Tate and Tabor won’t be a bother. They seem to have attached themselves to the children.”
    Sarah’s laugh rolled into the small fine lines around her mouth. “I don’t see you sitting still and petting animals for hours on end. Those girls have begged their Pa for two years to get a cat or a dog. He’s never