Free A Thousand Little Blessings by Claire Sanders Page A

with me. You don’t mind, do you Papa?”
    Henry shook his head slowly.
    “I’ll be back in time to fix you some dinner. We all know I’m not as good a cook as Momma, but Rosa left a stew in the ice box. All I have to do is reheat it.”
    “B..Ban..”
    Etta dropped her gaze to the fabric. She mustn’t tell her father about her suspicions, but they grew deeper every time Carl sidestepped meeting with her. She’d written to an auditor in Austin who had worked for the bank on a previous occasion. As soon as she heard from him, she’d supply everything he requested and stay out of his way. The less she had to do with his examination, the better. The Board of Directors had to be certain she had no sway over the results. In a few weeks, she’d have an answer about which accounts were affected by the thief, and, if possible, a trail of clues that would lead to the embezzler. “Everything at the bank is functioning as it should, Papa.” She stitched in silence, afraid to look at her father. She hadn’t lied to him, but she hadn’t told him the whole truth, either.
    Guide me, Lord . She prayed as she sewed. Show me the right path to follow.
    The sound of feet hurrying up the stairs pulled Etta’s attention away.
    Charlie entered the room, his cap in his hand. “Afternoon, miss. Thanks for letting me go to mass with Rosa’s family.”
    “Of course. Papa’s been resting.”
    Charlie winked at Etta and smiled. “Glad to hear it. It’s time for his afternoon exercises.”
    Henry waved his left arm. “Noooo…don...wan…”
    Charlie wasn’t dissuaded by Henry’s reluctance. “You keep that up, Mr. Henry, and the next thing you know, you’ll be speaking in complete sentences. I’ve seen it happen before. Now if you’ll excuse us, miss, I’m going to get your Papa out of bed and started on his strength building routine.”
    Etta gathered her sewing basket and stood. “I’ll check on you after I return from my ride, Papa.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Stew tonight for dinner, Mr. Simpson.”
    “That suits old Charlie just fine, miss. Yes, indeed. What do you say, Mr. Henry?”
    Etta scampered out of the room before she could hear her father’s reply, but from his dark expression, it was clear he was not pleased about Charlie’s plans.
     
    ****
     
    Gabriel strode into the stable a few minutes after two o’clock and found Etta saddling a mare. Instead of her usual prim, pinned-up hair, today she wore a single braid down the back of her white blouse. She looked much more like the woman he’d seen on his first night home, except today she’d dressed in trousers and knee-high riding boots. There was nothing improper about her clothing, but he couldn’t stop looking at what her skirts had previously disguised. He’d seen plenty of women in pants before, especially in the big cities, and he’d agreed with his buddies that most of them looked like peculiarly dressed men. But no one would mistake Etta for a man. She had gentle curves in all the right places.
    “I was planning on doing that for you.”
    Etta turned and smiled. “I’ve been saddling my own horse since I was ten years old. Back then, I had to stand on a mounting block to do it.”
    Gabriel took a lead rope from the wall. “In that case, why didn’t you saddle my horse, as well?”
    Etta laughed at his gentle teasing. “I wasn’t sure which one you wanted today. Have you chosen a favorite?”
    “They’re all fine animals, but the stallion could do with a good, long ride. I’ll bring him in.”
    Etta turned back to her task.
    Gabriel walked into the pasture. Already his heart felt lighter, just at having seen her. He’d caught a glimpse of Etta at church that morning, but he’d been surrounded by members of the congregation who’d eagerly welcomed him home. He stole another glance at Etta. Best not think too much about her curves. He was having enough problems sleeping.
    Gabriel reached the stallion, hooked the lead rope