Excerpt: Ashes on the Snow

One of the men separated from the three and walked toward Laurel. As he approached, Laurel found herself studying the stranger who was followed by a teenage boy. A worn black cowboy hat shaded his face, but Laurel saw a strength in his gait, almost as if he was accustomed to having men follow him.
Her thoughts were brought back to the present as he spoke. "Miss Matthews?"
"Mr. Jacobs?" Laurel replied.
"No, Miss Matthews. My name is Ethan Steele. Mr. Jacobs has had a bit of bad luck," he paused when he heard Laurel's slight gasp.
"Nothing too serious, I hope," the girl inquired.
"He'll be able to manage, but there have been changes. Let's get you a meal, and I'll explain everything."
"But what about my luggage, Mr...Steele, wasn't it?" Laurel looked to her baggage with a worried frown.
"Josh here will take it up to your room, if you wish," Ethan said, nodding to the boy, then offering his arm. Laurel consented, taking a moment to point out her trunk and give the boy her satchel before placing her hand on his arm.
Ethan led the girl into the hotel's dining room and seated her at one of the tables. As the man beckoned the waitress, Laurel looked around the room. She was pleased to see that, although well-worn, all of the furnishings appeared to be clean, and in the center of each table was a small container with wildflowers in it.
The waitress, a rigid woman, approached the table. "What can I get for you today?" she asked bluntly. At a loss for words, Laurel looked to Ethan, who asked the waitress about the specials. "We have a fried chicken dinner or a meatloaf dinner and fresh apple pie for dessert," she replied.
Ethan glanced at Laurel expectantly. After a moment's deliberation, Laurel chose. "The chicken, please."
Ethan nodded, then told the waitress, "Two of the chicken dinners, with pie and lemonade." As he spoke to the waitress, Laurel was given a chance to study the man. When they had entered the hotel, Ethan had removed his hat. Laurel now noticed how tan his face was, as though his hat was usually an afterthought, and that his hair was a dark brown color, but seemed to possibly have lighter highlights running through it. Though his hair was longer than Laurel was accustomed to seeing men wear, Ethan was well-groomed and clean shaven.
As the waitress went back to the kitchen, Ethan turned his attention back to Laurel, who was removing her black gloves as though the task required her full concentration. Ethan was able to study her profile as she pulled the gloves from her hands, one finger at a time. Her face was delicate and her complexion fair. Her hair was a dark auburn color and appeared thick, but she had pulled it tightly away from her face into a knot. On her high cheekbones, he noticed a few faded freckles.
Once her gloves were off, Laurel glanced up and was caught by Ethan's piercing eyes. For a moment, she felt nervous. Taking a shaky breath, she queried, "Do you work for Mr. Jacobs then?"
"No," Ethan replied smoothly, feeling confident that she would accept his news well. "We're only acquaintances." Seeing her puzzled look, he smiled. "No doubt you're wondering what kind of man sends an acquaintance to meet his bride-to-be." Or allows her to be lost in a poker game. "Actually, there's been a change in his plans."
"I...I'm not sure I understand, sir," Laurel managed.
"This will be hard news for you, I'm sure, but I'm just going to say it. About a week ago, Mr. Jacobs and I were engaged in a poker game with rather high stakes, I'm afraid. He had wagered his land, and I came out the winner." Here he paused as the waitress came with two glasses of lemonade. He continued, "Henry was obviously distressed, knowing that he had a bride coming in a week and nowhere for them to live. I knew you were coming--news like a mail-order bride coming travels fast in small towns--so I told him I would trade his land for his bride." Again he paused as the woman brought their dinners, set them down on the table, and inquired whether they would need anything else. After Ethan had answered her that they would be fine, the woman turned her attention to her other customers.
"For what reason did you want a bride, Mr. Steele?" Laurel asked as soon as the woman had left them alone.
"My child needs a mother, so I decided a mail-order bride would suit me and Cameron rather well." Ethan stopped talking and looked at Laurel, whose face had grown pale. "Would you be willing to marry me?"
"I don't...I mean...I..." Laurel stammered, unsure of how to answer.
Ethan saw her uncertainty and shook his head. "You don't have to answer now. We can stay in the hotel tonight, and you can think about it. If you decide not to, that's fine. I'll pay for your ticket back if you wish. But you need to eat first."
Laurel nodded and turned her attention to the food. Her thoughts whirled, trying to sort the information this stranger had just given her. How would she decide what to do?
The meal that followed was a silent one as each person sorted through their own thoughts. As Ethan paid for the meal, Laurel spoke. "I want to thank you, Mr. Steele, for the meal and for allowing me to decide for myself what to do. Some men wouldn't have given me a choice. I...well, I appreciate it." By the time she finished talking, she was blushing furiously.
Noticing her blush, Ethan attempted to ease her embarrassment. "Miss Matthews, it's the least I could do. After all, you agreed to marry Jacobs, not me. I'll show you up to your room now, if you wish." Again the cowboy offered his arm to Laurel.
Accepting, she nodded. "I'd appreciate that, Mr. Steele. It was a long trip, and I'm afraid that I'm a bit more tired than I realized."
As Ethan escorted Laurel up the stairs, he spoke, "Please, call me Ethan."
"If you wish. You may call me Laurel," the young woman replied.
As they stopped outside of a door, Ethan drew a key from his pocket. Opening the door, he glanced inside. "Here's your room then. Get some rest. If you need anything, my room's across the hall." So saying, he tipped his hat and left the room, shutting the door softly behind him.