Chapter Eight

Cassie watched the horse-drawn carriage grow closer, her heart drumming a rapid beat against her ribs. The visitor from Dallas had finally arrived, bringing with her the critical gaze of high society and the chance for Cassie to realize a dream she'd nursed alongside every stitch and hem.

It had only been six months since she'd arrived in Texas, and already it felt as if all of her dreams were coming true. If she could get this client, then possibly, she would be in a position to get more just like her.

The carriage creaked to a stop in front of the ranch house, where Cassie stood smoothing the fabric of her apron. A woman stepped out, her dress finer than any Cassie had ever laid eyes on, with layers of silk that whispered secrets of wealth and status. She introduced herself as Mrs. Montgomery.

"Mrs. Forsythe, I've come quite a ways," Mrs. Montgomery said, eyeing the humble surroundings before her gaze landed on Cassie's portfolio of designs laid out on the porch table.

"Please, call me Cassie," she replied, with a polite nod, guiding the woman to her work.

As Mrs. Montgomery perused the sketches, her lips pursed in an expression that could curdle milk. Cassie felt the gnawing twist of worry in her belly. Would her work meet this critical eye? She tried to keep her tone light and hopeful. "I've got a variety of styles here. Each one is my own design."

"I see." Mrs. Montgomery's finger hovered over two drawings. "My daughter is getting married. I want something unique—a blend of these two designs."

"Absolutely," Cassie responded, her mind already racing through the logistics of combining the elegant bodice of one with the flowing skirt of the other. "I can do that."

"Can you?" Mrs. Montgomery challenged, her scrutinizing gaze not letting up. "It must be perfect. My daughter deserves nothing less."

Cassie nodded, her confidence a brittle shell that she prayed didn't crack. "It will be. Perfect, I mean."

They spent a moment discussing the price, and Cassie felt her heart jump into her throat when Mrs. Montgomery didn't quibble with the price she asked, which was double what she would normally charge.

"Very well. I expect nothing short of excellence." With those parting words, Mrs. Montgomery turned, leaving Cassie with the weight of expectation pressing down on her shoulders.

"Perfect," Cassie whispered to herself, watching the carriage roll away.

CASSIE THREADED HERneedle with a fresh length of ivory silk. She heard the familiar creak of the porch as Andy stepped up from the dusty yard, his shadow briefly eclipsing the light.

"Evening, Cassie," he called out.

"Evening, Andy." She set her sewing aside, her fingers still tingling with the excitement and dread of her new commission. "You ever have one of those moments when you wonder if you've bitten off more than you can chew?"

Andy leaned against the door frame, a smile tugging at his lips. "Every time I look out at that herd wondering if they'll make it through winter. But you, Cassie, you're the best seamstress in the county. Mrs. Montgomery's daughter will be the envy of Dallas when she's wearing one of your creations."

His confidence was like a balm to her frayed nerves. "Thank you, Andy. I needed to hear that." She glanced up at him, noting the furrow between his brows, a telltale sign that his mind was turning over something serious.

"Speaking of biting off more than we can chew," he started, scratching at the stubble on his chin, "I've been saving for a good while now, and I'm at a bit of crossroads." He paused, considering his words. "I can either expand the ranch, buy some adjoining land I've had my eye on, or get some help around here, hire an extra hand. But I can't swing both, not with the way money's tight."

Cassie pondered his dilemma, her own worries momentarily set aside. "That's a tough choice, Andy. But whatever you decide, it'll be the right call. You've got a head for these things."

"Maybe so," he replied, his dark eyes reflecting a mix of hope and caution. "But it sure would be easier if I could just do both, wouldn't it?"

"Wouldn't we all like that," she said with a chuckle, picking up her needlework again. "But we make do, don't we? And we make it work."

"We do," Andy agreed, stepping into the house to wash up for supper, leaving Cassie to her stitches and thoughts, the last rays of sunlight winking out behind the horizon.

Cassie set her needlework aside, folding it carefully before placing it in her sewing basket. She rose from the chair on the porch, her skirts rustling softly as she stepped through the doorway into the cozy warmth of the kitchen where Andy was washing his hands at the basin.

"Andy," she said, "I've been doing some thinking."

He turned, drying his hands on a cloth, a questioning look in his dark eyes. "Oh? What's on your mind?"

"I've got some money saved up," Cassie said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "From my teaching days back East. It's not a fortune, but...do you think it could help with your decision? About the land or hiring help?"

Andy stopped mid-wipe, his brow creasing. "You'd do that?" he asked, a note of hesitation in his voice. "Put your hard-earned savings into this ranch?"

She walked over to him, her eyes earnest. "Of course, I would. I spend your money on groceries and whatever else without a second thought. It's only right. We're partners in this, aren't we?"

Andy looked down at the worn wooden floorboards, his jaw working slightly. He met her gaze again, his features softening. "You make a fair point, Cassie. But it's your money. You worked for it."

"Which makes it our money," she interjected gently, reaching out to touch his arm. "Think about it, won't you?"

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he nodded, placing his hand over hers. "All right, I'll think on it. You sure have a way of making sense when I need it most."

She gave his arm a reassuring squeeze, the corners of her mouth lifting into an affectionate smile. "That's what I'm here for."

CASSIE'S FINGERS TREMBLEDslightly as she placed the final stitch on the dress, the delicate fabric whispering under her touch. She held it up to the light, inspecting every seam with a critical eye. It was her finest work yet - a harmonious blend of two of her most admired designs, destined for a wedding in Dallas. A proud smile tugged at her lips.

"Ready?" Andy leaned against the doorway, his dark eyes taking in the sight of the dress.

"Ready," Cassie affirmed, folding the garment carefully into a box lined with tissue.

Together, they boarded the train from Fort Worth to Dallas. As buildings and bustling streets replaced open fields, Cassie clutched the box closer.

"Stop worrying," Andy nudged her gently. "Your dress is perfect. And it will be worn by the bride at some fancy wedding. Soon, there will be a herd of women trying to knock our door down to get more of your dresses."

The wealthy woman from Dallas was all polished elegance, her scrutinizing gaze sweeping over Cassie's offering. Relief bloomed when her stern expression melted into delight.

"Exquisite!" The woman exclaimed, tracing the lace with a gloved finger. "My daughter will be the belle of her wedding."

Her friends, equally impressed, clustered around, murmurs of admiration filling the room. Before Cassie could catch her breath, orders for three more dresses were placed, each with a tight deadline that made her heart race.

"Can you manage it?" Andy asked quietly as they left, the weight of the task settling on her shoulders.

"I have to," she replied, determination in her voice.

On the return journey, Andy's voice broke the comfortable silence.

"About your offer..." He cleared his throat, the setting sun casting shadows across his strong features. "I'll take some of that money you saved. We'll expand the land and hire a hand."

Cassie's weariness from the day's excitement was swept away by the rush of gratitude and love she felt for this man who stood by her side.

"Thank you, Andy," Cassie said, her voice soft but full of emotion. "That means the world to me."

"Don't thank me. You're the one helping me out," he said simply, reaching out to squeeze her hand.

CASSIE SAT HUNCHEDover her sewing machine, the hum of its needle a constant companion as daylight waned into dusk. Bolts of fabric sprawled across the worktable like wildflowers in a prairie, their colors vibrant under the lamplight. Her fingers worked deftly, piecing together seams with the precision that had become her signature.

"Supper's on the table," Andy called from the kitchen, his voice pulling her from the trance of her craft.

"Already?" Cassie glanced at the window, surprised to see the sky painted in twilight hues. She hadn't even noticed the passage of time.

"Yep. Made your favorite - stew." He appeared in the doorway, an apron tied around his waist, a smile softening the rugged lines of his face.

"Thank you," she said, standing to stretch her cramped limbs. "I didn't realize how late it got."

"That's because you start work before the sun comes up and barely take time to swallow a meal before you're at it again," he teased, leading her to the table where a steaming pot awaited.

Cassie chuckled, but guilt gnawed at her as they sat down. In the past few days, while her focus was riveted on fulfilling dress orders, cooking had fallen by the wayside, and Andy had stepped in without complaint.

"Feels strange, not having had a hand in dinner," she admitted, poking at the carrots in her bowl.

"Strange in a good way, I hope." Andy raised his eyebrows, passing her the cornbread.

"Maybe for you," Cassie sighed, taking a bite of the bread, its warmth comforting. "I feel like a terrible wife, leaving all this to you."

"Hey now," he reached across the table, covering her hand with his. "You're doing what needs to be done. We're a team, remember? I can handle pots and pans for a spell."

She squeezed his hand, grateful for his understanding. "Just a few more days. Once these dresses are delivered, things will get back to normal."

"Take the time you need, Cassie. Your work's as important as anything I might have to do," Andy reassured her, his dark eyes earnest.

"Thanks," she smiled, the weight in her chest lifting a little. "But I'm making you a feast to make up for it. As soon as these stitches are set and the last hem is sewn."

"Looking forward to it," he winked.

As they finished their meal, talking about everything and nothing, Cassie felt the love and companionship that made every hardship worthwhile.

She reached out and took his hand. "Most men wouldn't put up with the hours I'm working, and I appreciate that you think my dream is as important as yours."

He brought her fingers to his lips. "I never could understand why a man would think what he did was more important than what his wife did." He shook his head. "I'm just thankful for the extra income that's making my life easier."

CASSIE HOISTED THEsatchel containing her meticulously crafted dresses onto the carriage seat, the leather creaking under the weight. Deborah climbed up beside her, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ear, her gaze lingering on the parcel with quiet admiration.

"Can't believe you're pulling all this off, Cassie," Deborah murmured, as the horses began their steady trot toward the train station in Fort Worth.

Cassie's hands rested on the reins, her knuckles white against the worn leather. "Truth be told, it's been a bit harder than I thought it would be," she confessed, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. "Between the sewing and keeping house, I'm stretched thinner than morning mist."

Deborah glanced at her sister, noting the faint shadows beneath Cassie's blue eyes. "You know, Jane's got a knack for cooking and wouldn't mind some extra money. Maybe she could help with the evening meals and tidying up?"

Cassie's brow furrowed at the thought, the idea swirling like a new pattern in her mind. "Hire Jane?" she echoed, pondering. "Wouldn't be too proud to admit I need the help, but..."

"Sometimes, pride's has to take a back seat to practicality," Deborah cut in softly. "She'd be glad for the work, and you'd have more time for your dressmaking."

A smile tugged at the corner of Cassie's lips. "Might just take you up on that suggestion, Deb," she said, a newfound lightness to her voice as they continued down the dusty road toward opportunity.

CASSIE AND DEBORAHstepped out of the train, their arms laden with carefully wrapped packages. Cassie's heart fluttered like the hem of a petticoat caught in a breeze—today was the day her creations would face judgment.

"Here we are," Cassie said, squaring her shoulders as they approached the grand house that had placed the order.

"Your dressmaking's about to be the talk of the town," Deborah added with an encouraging smile.

Cassie hoped so. With each knock on the polished oak door, her confidence stitched itself firmer. The door swung open, revealing the eager faces of the Dallas elite gathered inside. Compliments flowed freely as Cassie unveiled the dresses. Relief softened her posture. They were smitten.

"Could you combine this lace with that bodice for my niece's birthday party?" one lady asked, pointing to two different gowns.

"Absolutely," Cassie replied, her head buzzing with new designs.

Cassie was glad she'd thought to bring her sketchbook. She watched as two women pored over the pages.

By the time they left, orders were penciled into Cassie's book, each one a promise of growth for her business. Yet, as they were on the train to return to Fort Worth, a knot of worry formed in her gut. Hiring Jane meant discussing money with Andy—an undertaking more daunting than any dress she'd fashioned.

That night, after a supper of stewed chicken and fresh biscuits, Cassie lingered at the table, sipping her tea as Andy cleaned the plates. She watched his back, the way his muscles moved beneath his shirt—a dance of strength and purpose.

"Deborah had an idea today," Cassie began, her voice trailing like a leaf on a stream.

Andy turned, wiping his hands on a cloth. "Oh? What might that be?"

"About hiring Jane to help around here. With the cooking and cleaning, just for a couple hours each day." Cassie folded her hands in her lap, awaiting his response.

Andy leaned against the counter, considering. "Makes sense to me," he said after a pause. "You've got your hands full with those dresses."

"Really?" Cassie blinked, surprised by his easy agreement.

"Sure," Andy chuckled. "I think I'd like to taste something other than my own cooking for a change."

Relief washed over Cassie like a gentle rain. She smiled, warmth spreading through her chest. "Thank you, Andy. It means the world."

"Anything for you, Cassie." His eyes met hers, steady and sincere. "We're in this together."

Cassie was thrilled. She hadn't talked to Jane yet, but she was certain her sister would agree. It would be so much better than trying to do it all herself.