A Grand Teton Sleigh Ride: Four Generations of Wyoming Ranchers Celebrate Love at Christmas Read Online Free PDF Page A

any of the other eligible men, I guarantee it.”
    “Thank you for saying so.” The barn felt warm with Patch and the milk cows inside. The horse greeted her, and she went to stroke his nose.
    “He’s a good horse.” Zebulon headed for the pitchfork.
    “Yes. Ham helped me pick him out. I bought him as soon as I arrived, from Sven Olsen.” She went for the wheelbarrow. “Here, you’ll need this. I’ll get to milking Daisy.”
    At Belle’s words, the cow thumped on the wall.
    “You got the easy job.” He grinned, grasping the wheelbarrow handles.
    “You chose first.” She grinned right back at him. “You grabbed the pitchfork.”
    “Quite right, quite right.”
    They set to work in silence, and Belle leaned her head against Daisy’s flank. She’d never milked a cow before coming west, and found she didn’t mind the chore once she’d learned. Melanie had a daily war with Daisy at milking time and had gladly relinquished the chore when she saw Daisy preferred Belle.
    Maybe it was because Belle talked to Daisy. During those moments in the morning and evening, she would chatter away to the cow.
    “Hang on, girl. Almost done. That was quite a storm, wasn’t it?”
    “Wasn’t so bad.” Zebulon’s voice came from the stall.
    “Eighteen inches, at the lowest parts.” She kept squeezing and pulling the udders.
    “Wait until it’s storm after storm, from January on.”
    “I don’t want to think about it.”
One storm at a time, thank you very much
.
    “Well, you ought to.” Zebulon’s voice grew louder, and she glanced behind her to see him leaning over the low wall. “Not thinking can cause frostbite, or worse.”
    Belle tried not to sigh. “I’m well aware of that.”
    “I don’t think you are.”
    She stared at the milk in the pail and sighed. “Please, give me a little credit. I’m not about to go traipsing off into the wilds without preparing myself.”
    “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound harsh.”
    “I accept your apology.” She stood, trying not to knock the milk pail over as she did so. “Thank you for your concern. I know I’m the greenhorn around here.”
    He nodded. “I’ll be glad to put fresh straw down.”
    “Thank you. I hope there’s enough for the winter. Ham was trying to set some supplies back before …”
    Zebulon nodded. “I know he was. Your brother-in-law was a good man. A good friend. He, ah, he made me promise if anything ever happened, that I’d look out for you.”
    “Oh, I see.” She hadn’t known that.
    “Which is why I insisted on taking you to the train.”
    Belle shook her head. “I can’t go back. Not snow or smelly barns or the cold will get me out of here. I’m going to file when the claim time is up and then maybe sell. I don’t know. I have no other options.”
    “Surely there’s a ladies’ finishing school that would appreciate your services back East.”
    Belle shrugged. “I don’t have a pedigree. No prospects. My parents never married. What woman in high society would want
me
teaching her daughter? No matter the quality of my services. But here, I can show young ladies how to be ladies.”
    “Belle Murray, you are every bit a lady, even in Ham’s overcoat and wearing snowshoes and standing in a barn.”
    Her throat swelled. “Thank you, Zebulon.”

    She’d said his name again and somehow the space between them had shrunk, with only the stall partition separating them.
    He nodded then turned away. “We’ll get them fed, and I’ll be on my way.”
    “I do appreciate you coming.” Belle toted the pail of milk from the stall. “I haven’t seen to the cattle yet.”
    “I guessed as much, judging from the greeting they gave us. Do you have enough to feed them?”
    “For now.”
    “They might find something to eat on the open range, but it’ll take awhile for the snow to clear enough, even with the wind’s help.” He didn’t know what else to say, but Belle was, self-admittedly, as green as they came.
    “I