Jarrod hunched over in the saddle, trying to conserve what little body heat he had left. The rain felt like icy daggers driven before the wind and Jarrod wouldn't have been surprised if it turned to sleet or even snow. His horse plodded along and the lawyer gave the sturdy animal a pat on the neck.
"Gotta keep going, fella," he said encouragingly.
It seemed like a good idea at the time, buying a horse to take him to the next station when a landslide took out the train tracks. He'd promised Audra he'd be home in time for her birthday but the fates seemed to be conspiring against him. The rain had started late the previous day and only got worse as the night progressed. Jarrod found a bit of shelter for himself and his mount under a large tree, but they both were cold and soaked by the time the morning came as a dim gray light.
Now, freezing in the teeth of the storm, Jarrod just prayed he'd find somewhere dry. And warm. And while he was dreaming, he might as well wish for a sizzling steak and a hot pot of coffee to go with it.
Suddenly, Jarrod pulled the horse to a stop. The tired steed didn't object, letting out a sigh as it stood still, head down. Jarrod peered through the heavy rain, hoping against hope what he'd seen wasn't a figment of his imagination. But, no, there it was. He could barely make it out, but a dark shadow loomed through the downpour, a building of some sort.
Jarrod urged the horse forward. They pulled up in front of a small farmhouse and Jarrod thought he could make out the shapes of some outbuildings. He slid out of the saddle and walked onto the front porch, not bothering to tie the horse as he knew it wouldn't stray in this weather. Rapping on the door, Jarrod tried to keep from shivering as he hoped for someone to answer.
The door opened and Jarrod almost fainted at the comforting surge of warmth from the house's interior.
"I was wondering if I could impose on you for shelter from this storm for me and my horse," he said, glad his teeth weren't chattering.
"Of course. It isn't fit for man or beast to be out in this weather." Jarrod smiled in gratitude at the young woman standing at the door. He had obviously disturbed her in the middle of baking; a wide apron covered the front of her dress, her sleeves were pushed to the elbows and her arms were covered in flour. "Please come in."
Much as he wanted to get out of the chilling rain, the need to care for his mount before seeing to his own comfort had been ingrained into Jarrod from childhood. "If you have a barn or shed, ma'am, I'd like to see to my horse first."
"Of course. The barn's right across from the house," she told him, indicating the direction. "Please help yourself to whatever you need."
Jarrod raised a hand, tipping his hat in thanks. "I'm much obliged."
Ariana watched as the waterlogged stranger picked up the reins of his horse and led him to the barn. Then she shut the door and walked across to the room on the other side. That poor man was soaked to the skin and the weather being what it was, all his belongings were probably soaked, too. He'd need something warm and dry if he weren't to catch pneumonia.
Ria went to a corner of the bedroom and opened the chest that sat against the wall. She'd never been able to part with John's things and thought some of his clothes might fit the man outside. She pulled out a red flannel union suit, almost new, a heavy cotton shirt and a pair of wool pants and laid them across the bed. She then went to the wardrobe and retrieved a thick towel, placing it beside the clothing. Then Ria went back to the stove and put on a fresh pot of coffee along with some of the stew she had left over from her own dinner.
It wasn't long before she heard the stamp of feet on the porch and a light tap on the door. "It's open," she called. The stranger entered and closed the door behind him. He took off his hat and stood dripping on the threshold.
"Don't worry about the water," Ria assured him, "the floor's just wood, it'll wipe right away." She met his eyes and was startled by their blue intensity.
"I'm grateful for the hospitality, ma'am," he said in a rich baritone. "I hope I'm not putting you at too great an inconvenience." He gave her a charming smile that warmed Ria all the way to her toes.
"Not at all." Ria gestured to the open bedroom door. "I put out a towel and some dry clothes in there," she informed him. "Go change out of those wet things and by then the coffee should be ready."
He inclined his head to her. "I'm in your debt," he said with another smile and went into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Ria took a deep breath to calm the butterflies awakened by the handsome stranger and went to stir the stew.
Jarrod quickly peeled off his wet garments and dried himself with the towel provided. He hadn't got a good look at her when she first opened the door, the gloom outside and the light inside casting her features into shadow. But by the warm light of the lamps and the fireplace, Jarrod was able to appreciate the honey-gold hair and curvaceous nature of his hostess. But she was likely married if the man's clothing she set out for him were any indication. He felt an unexpected pang of sorrow as he dressed, thinking if that bullet meant for him hadn't found Beth instead, he'd be on his way home to the loving arms of his wife as well as his family. Eight months ago, and he couldn't decide whether it felt like just yesterday or already a lifetime away…
Jarrod shook his head, trying to shake the melancholy mood. It was over, in the past, and, since everybody told him he should get on with life, that's just what he was trying to do. He squared his shoulders and returned to the other room, determined to be thankful he was out of the storm and it seemed, from the delicious smell wafting into his nostrils, taken in by a good cook to boot.
"That smells wonderful."
His benefactress turned, giving him a warm smile that seemed to light up the room. "Have a seat, it won't be a moment."
Jarrod sat at the table and gazed around the room as she dished out the stew. Not a large place, but sturdy and well built. A delicate silver clock stood on the mantel, warm yellow curtains hung from the windows and the whole house gave off the air of a happy home. His eyes lit on a framed picture of his hostess and a man in what was most likely their wedding finery over top of a full bookshelf. "You have a lovely home, Mrs…" he started to say as she placed a filled plate in front of him and shook his head, slightly embarrassed. "Forgive me, I don't believe we've introduced ourselves. I'm Jarrod Barkley."
Her face grew slightly pink as well at the oversight. "My name's Ariana Andrews. But please just call me Ria, Mr. Barkley."
"Then you must call me Jarrod," he reciprocated. "Won't you join me?"
Ria placed two coffee cups on the table. "I'm right in the middle of baking, but I'll join you for some coffee," she said as she filled the cups and sat down.
Jarrod took a bite of the stew, the contrast from being cold and hungry to warm and comfortable making it possibly the best thing he'd ever tasted. "My compliments to the chef," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "I hope your husband isn't too put out by my eating his dinner."
Ria shook her head slowly, a hint of sadness appearing on her face. "My husband passed on a little over a year ago. I never have been able to break the habit of cooking for two, so there's always plenty to spare."
"I'm sorry," Jarrod said simply. He understood the heartache of losing a loved one all too well.
"It's all right," Ria replied, her smile still warm. "John and I made the most of the time we were allotted. I still miss him, but I know my life is richer for John having been in it."
"I admire your fortitude." He wasn't sure if his life was richer for having met Beth, on the contrary, their brief time together mostly left him with feelings of sorrow.
Ria saw the sadness in Jarrod's eyes and, wondering but not wanting to pry, decided to change the subject. "So how did you get caught in this storm?"
Jarrod shrugged. "Bad luck, mostly. A landslide destroyed the tracks and the train was going to be delayed for at least a week. Instead of missing my sister's birthday, I chose to try and make it to the next station on horseback." He gave a small chuckle. "Didn't quite work out."
Ria smiled into her coffee cup. "Well, I'm glad you showed up on my doorstep. It's nice to have some company. You have a sister at home?"
"My mother, brothers, and a sister," Jarrod clarified. "I hope they're not too worried."
"No wife?" As soon as she said it, that haunted look returned to Jarrod's eyes and Ria wished she could take the words back. "I'm sorry," she retracted hastily, "I shouldn't pry."
"No, it's okay. My wife, Beth, died about eight months ago."
Ria could tell he didn't want to talk about it and just placed a comforting hand on his before bringing the coffeepot back over. "More coffee?"
Jarrod nodded. "Your coffee is excellent," he complimented her.
"Thank you," Ria said with a pretty smile. "If you don't mind, I should get back to my baking."
"Not at all." Jarrod continued eating while Ria finished shaping the bread she was working on.
Ria reflected it was nice to have someone to talk to and considering that someone was a personable, attractive man just made it doubly pleasant. She had friends in town, in fact, was on friendly terms with just about everyone in the area, but with the rain, Ria had felt a bit isolated over the past few days.
"So where is your home?" Ria asked as she placed the finished loaves in the oven.
Jarrod pushed back from the table, having made short work of the delicious meal. "Stockton," he answered.
"Stockton?" Ria wiped her floury hands clean on her apron. "That's quite a ways," she commented as she cleared the dishes.
"Let me help you with that," Jarrod offered, but Ria shooed him away. "There must be something I can do for you around here to repay your kindness," he insisted.
Ria gave him an appraising look. "Well, what do you do?" she asked. "Maybe I can find something."
Jarrod had to chuckle. "By profession, I'm a lawyer. But if you don't happen to have any legal matters that need reviewing, I also grew up on a ranch. My parents taught us to be fairly self-sufficient."
"No legal problems," Ria answered with a laugh, "but there's a whole basket of mending near the fire." She raised an eyebrow, waiting for his response.
"Not quite that self-sufficient, I'm afraid," he said, smiling at the banter.
Ria rinsed the last dish and set it aside, drying her hands on her apron. "I hate to ask you to go back out into the rain, but if you wouldn't mind…" Ria took a basket down from the shelf. "Could you make sure all the stock is taken care of and gather the eggs? The hens usually lay them in the straw in the corner of the barn. I have a slicker by the door."
Jarrod tried not to sigh as he took the basket. As a child, collecting eggs had been one of his chores and it ranked on the top of Jarrod's list of most hated tasks. He was sure nothing could be worse than fending off irascible hens. "It would be my pleasure," Jarrod said before heading back outside.