Chapter 6 #2
What had made him behave that way? So boldly touching Addie’s nose.
He should be ashamed of himself. Ma would scold him for it, saying, “Be cautious with how you conduct yourself around young ladies. Don’t toy with their feelings.
” Words she’d said so many times. Not that he’d forgotten.
Nor would he ever. Any more than he’d fail to heed the one admonition that had always seemed most important perhaps because it came from the Bible.
“Keep thy heart with all diligence, for out of it are the issues of life.”
He knew beyond a doubt that the heart could lead a man astray. Whether in desiring a woman or monetary gain.
Addie was not the sort of young lady who should be treated frivolously. She’d been raised by a preacher and seemed content to live a simple life. Maybe even to live on a ranch?
Not that those things gave him the right to be so bold.
But, his heart argued, wasn’t she equally bold?
She had been. They’d both enjoyed a little teasing.
And her eyes…so full of surprise that gave way to what he took to be enjoyment.
Having circled back to the moment their gazes had connected, and something passed between them, he grinned. They could be stuck here for a few days. No reason the time couldn’t be enjoyable.
No reason at all.
While she chopped carrots into the stew, he kneaded the dough, pressed it into a square, and cut it into biscuit-sized smaller squares.
One hand on the cupboard, Addie watched. “Square biscuits?”
“More efficient. Less waste.”
She considered his reason. “Fine. I concede you might have a point.”
The biscuits fit on a baking sheet. “Concede?” He did his best to look stern. Mere inches separated them. He leaned closer so they were almost nose to nose. “You wish you’d thought of it first, don’t you?”
Her eyes widened, watching him without blinking. “Did your ma teach you that?”
“Who says anyone taught me? Maybe I reasoned it out on my own.”
“Did you?” Her gaze lowered to his nose, his chin, rose to his mouth, and paused there. She swallowed loudly and returned to staring into his eyes. “Did you?” The words whispered across his skin.
Did he what? What did she mean? All he could think of was how close she stood, how warm her breath, how he wanted to capture the strand of hair that hung past her cheek.
“Nash?”
His name breathed from her lips.
“The biscuits?” She tipped her head to the cupboard.
Yes, they were talking about biscuits. About why he cut them in squares. And who had taught him to do so. He’d teased her that he didn’t need anyone to give him the idea.
“I might have thought of it on my own, but one of the chuckwagon cooks working for Gib did it.”
“There you go. Was that so hard?”
Hard to confess? No. Hard to keep his mind on the subject? Yes. In fact—“I better get these baking.”
She stepped aside to allow him to open the oven door.
He slid them in, closed the door, and then remained there for no other reason than Addie had to be at his side in order to stir the stew.
A scraping sound outside drew his attention.
The doorknob rattled, and Hawk stepped in.
His boots showed the signs of having been very muddy before he’d done his best to clean them, which explained the scraping sound.
He hung the slicker on a peg. Muddy water puddled on the floor.
Rubbing his hands together, he faced them.
“Any chance there’d be some hot coffee?”
Using a towel, Nash shook the pot. “There’s some here, but it’s not fresh.”
“I’ll take it.” Hawk took the mug Nash filled and sat at the table.
All eyes watched him as he stared into the cup’s dark contents. He swallowed back three mouthfuls and set the container down with a hard sound that made Addie jump. Then he leaned back, noticing everyone’s interest.
“Still raining.” The pounding on the roof made his observation unnecessary. “No telling when it’ll stop.” Again, nothing they didn’t all know. He turned the cup around twice. “The road’ll be a mess.”
Nash glanced at Addie. She appeared as confused as he about Hawk’s report.
She looked up at him, her eyes wide, and shrugged one shoulder.
He nodded. For a moment, they studied each other. When Hawk spoke again, Nash slowly, reluctantly shifted his attention back to the man.
“Everyone’s safe, including the animals.”
If he brought good news, why did he sound so morose? Was there something he wasn’t telling them? Maybe Nash could pull the man aside and find out.
“Someone will come looking for us.” A long sigh. “When the rain stops.”
“The biscuits!” Nash rescued them. “Perfect.” They had risen nicely. The tops were golden brown.
“The test is in the tasting.” Addie grinned at him.
“Then let’s eat so everyone can taste that they are good.” Seeing no platter nor the necessity of one, he put the tray of biscuits directly on the table.
Behind him, Addie hefted the pot of stew and set it on the wooden surface.
Together, he and Addie brought an assortment of bowls and plates, forks and spoons, and half a dozen knives.
Addie checked on her mother. “She’s a little feverish, but nothing that concerns me. Sleep is good for her.”
Nash slid along the bench so she crowded in beside him around the table.
Her arm pressed to his side. He grinned at her and chuckled softly when pink stained her cheeks, and she lowered her eyes.
He expanded his chest with pleasure at the sign that she enjoyed this as much as he, perhaps with as much caution and surprise.
At the way everyone looked toward Nash, he understood they expected him to ask the blessing, and he nodded, pleased to do so.
“We have much to be grateful for. Safety, a dry shelter, and food.”
Shorty cleared his throat. “You are making serious inroads into my supplies.”
“I’ll see that the company replaces them,” Hawk assured the man.
“I’ll pray.” They were too tightly packed for Nash to try to stand, so he bowed his head where he sat. “Thank You, God, for all Your blessings. For safety and sustenance. Bless this food, and may it taste as good as it smells. Amen.”
A muffled sound came from Addie.
He pushed his elbow tighter to her arm. Signaling he knew, she tried not to laugh.
Despite the circumstances, the persisting rain, Mrs. Stone’s illness, and their crowded conditions, Nash enjoyed the meal and the company, except for Mr. Bertrand’s constant complaining, which Nash ignored. He didn’t mean to let the man suck the enjoyment out of the moment.
Addie took a biscuit, broke it apart, and lifted a portion to her nose. She sniffed without revealing anything. She nibbled off a piece and chewed, nodding several times. Swallowed and drank a mouthful of water.
He nudged her. “Good, aren’t they?”
For a moment, she stared at her plate, her hands holding the halves of the biscuit.
What was wrong with them? He bit off a large bite and chewed. Tasted fine. Good, in fact. As good as he’d ever tasted. He tried another bite. Still good.
Addie watched him.
Did he see her lips twitch? He met her gaze and held it, challenging her.
She laughed. “They’re good.”
“You’re a tease.” But he sat back, pleased with her acknowledgment.
“Maybe a little.” Something flickered through her eyes. “Though not often. Not often at all.” Her words ended in a whisper. She seemed surprised at her confession and jerked her attention back to her food and what the others were saying.
He listened as well. Mr. Zacharius wanted Hawk to guess as to when they might resume travel. Of course, the driver had no more idea than the rest of them.
“This is dreadful weather,” Shorty said. “I have had more than enough of rain and snow and cold. The mountains are not the place for me.”
“Where do ya plan to go?” Hawk asked.
“The prairies. I hear they are as flat as if someone rolled them out with a rolling pin.”
Hawk shook his head. “Seen ’em. Boring. And windy. Always windy.”
“Have you seen them?” Shorty looked to Nash.
“I have. Crossed them coming here.” He and Ma had taken the train as far as the lines went, then traveled by wagon the rest of the way.
“Do you agree with Hawk? Are they boring?” Shorty waited for Nash’s answer.
“There’s a certain sameness to them.” He thought back to those days. “The word that comes to mind is freedom.”
“Really? Be so good as to explain.”
He collected his thoughts. “The open spaces felt wide and inviting. Offering a man the chance to start over. Or to forge ahead with no obstacles in his way.”
Shorty expelled a noisy breath. “I like the sound of that. Indeed. As soon as I can get out of here, I shall head for the prairies, wide-open spaces, and freedom.”
Why did Shorty seek freedom? Did it have something to do with the books Nash and Addie had found in the storeroom?
The meal finished, Nash helped Addie clean up. They stood at the cupboard.
“We’ll be here overnight again, won’t we?” Her words were tight, as if the idea troubled her.
“It’s still raining.” The coach remained stuck, and the road might be washed out. No need to point out all the problems. “Why?”
“Mother has been restless. Did you notice?” She glanced back to where Mrs. Stone still lay on the fur.
Twice, she’d awakened and called for a drink.
Addie had taken her water. But when she offered her food, Mrs. Stone had refused.
She’d retreated to her covers but couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position and tossed from one side to the other.
“I did. Does that worry you?”
“I’d be lying if I said it didn’t.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “Have you considered that she is better off here than riding in the coach?”
Addie raised her face to him. “She needs to get to Golden Valley and her own bed as soon as possible.” A smile warmed those wide eyes.
“Thank you for making me see this delay is for her good.” Her lips rumbled with a soft chuckle.
“You’d think I’d remember God’s promise to provide everything we need. ”
“It’s easy to forget.” He meant to be reassuring, so why did she frown?
“Sounds like you have a story.”
“Sorry. I don’t know what you mean.” Worry wound around his spine. But she could not have learned anything about his past.