Page 67 of Meet Me on Blueberry Hill

The man looked up, revealing bright blue eyes, deep lines that suggested he smiled a lot, and a graying beard that hung to his chest. Wearing a T-shirt with Foster Farriers written on the back, he nodded, then jerked a gloved thumb over his shoulder. “Mornin’. Asher’s in the back.”

“Good morning. And thank you.” Sadie made her way through the barn, taking a wide berth around Gus, and headed to the back where Asher stored the carriages.

His back to her, Asher rubbed a rag over the glossy black paint of the carriage, filling the room with the scent of some citrusy oil.

“That looks great. Your aunt and uncle will be so impressed.”

Asher’s head jerked up. A smile crept across his face. He straightened, flung the rag over the carriage body, then moved toward her. Slow and steady, his eyes not leaving hers.

She swallowed and forced the thrum in her veins to calm.

His faded jeans hung low on his narrow hips as his black T-shirt stretched across his broad chest with every movement. He wore a backward baseball hat that had seen better days.

He reached for the box and set it on an old wooden barrel, then he turned back to her. “Good morning.”

His voice, low and throaty, sent a shiver skittering down her spine.

She swallowed again and smiled. Oh, she could get used to seeing him every morning.

“Good morning to you too.”

Asher rested a hand on the box. “What’s in here?”

“Our costumes. I picked them up yesterday afternoon.”

“And you brought them by this early?”

She lifted a shoulder. “I was excited to see them. I wanted to wait and look at them together. If this is a bad time…” She turned toward the door.

Asher’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. Gently, he pulled her toward him until they were only inches apart. “No, it’s not a bad time. Never a bad time.”

He smelled of hay, warm animals, and something a little spicy. His soap, maybe? Whatever it was, it was quickly becoming one of her favorite scents.

She really needed to get a grip.

Sadie opened the box and folded back the white tissue paper, revealing an early 1900s lightweight ivory cotton gown with a high neck, pleated billowy bodice, and lace trim. She let out a little gasp as she drew the dress out of the box and held the flowy fabric against her. She ran a finger down one of the long, fitted sleeves and turned to Asher. “What do you think?”

His eyes searched her face. “Absolutely beautiful.” Then he winked. “The dress looks great too.”

Her face warmed under his gaze and his words. She draped the dress over her arm, then returned to the box. She pulled out a matching hat with a wide brim, ribbons, and fabric flowers. “Lovely.”

Sadie returned the hat and gown to the box, then broke the tape on the other one. She folded back the paper and found a dove gray tailcoat with striped trousers, a lighter gray waistcoat,white shirt, and black tie. “This will do quite nicely. We’ll need to try them on. The practice run is tomorrow, so I hope they fit.”

“I’m sure they will be just fine.” Hands on his hips, Asher eyed the box, then looked at her. “You sure you want to do this?”

At the questioning in his voice, Sadie cocked her head. “Are you having second thoughts?”

Asher moved away from the box and returned to the carriage. “More like third and fourth thoughts. I want the tour to be a success. I want my aunt and uncle to be proud of what I’ve accomplished and to be excited about getting the touring company going again.”

“I sense a ‘but’ in there.”

“But what if I’m not the one able to pull it off?”

Usually, Sadie was the one who needed to be talked off the ledge, so hearing Asher’s doubts made her realize he wasn’t as calm and collected as he wanted people to think.

Huh.

Maybe the guy had flaws after all.

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