Chapter 13 #2
Nash slung his saddlebags over his shoulder and helped lead the horses to the coach and hitched them in place while the others climbed inside.
He stood at the door, one foot on the step, his gaze on Addie.
Again, she refused to look at him. Her interest in smoothing her skirt was nothing more than avoidance. Of him. But why?
“I’ll ride with Hawk.”
No one voiced a protest, and he swung up to the driver’s seat, tossing his saddlebags in with the other luggage.
Neither man spoke as the horses trotted along the repaired road.
If he was inside, he would have pointed out the boulders perched on the shoulder and explained how they’d moved them.
He could have told them when they crossed the spot that had washed out and been repaired.
They turned a corner where a waterfall gushed down the mountainside.
Would Addie notice it and remember the sweet time they’d enjoyed as she told him how her father had taken them to some falls?
What happened to change her so that she wouldn’t look at him?
He could think of nothing.
She’d told him she needed to work off a debt to the Stones. Had Mrs. Stone said or done something to remind Addie of that? Perhaps making her feel there was no room in her life for anything else but their work.
“Whoa. This is where the passengers have to walk.” They’d reached a section of road barely wide enough to accommodate the coach wheels. Hawk and Nash had discussed how to handle this situation, and Hawk had said he thought they’d manage. “But”—he’d said—“I won’t put the travelers at risk.”
“I’ll tell them.” Nash climbed down. He pulled open the door.
“Another delay. This is—”
Nash ignored Mr. Bertrand’s complaint. “The road is narrow and slippery. Hawk wants us to walk.”
Mr. Bertrand was the first out, grumbling the whole time.
Nash helped Mr. Zacharius, who took in the scene.
“Oh my!” He looked behind them, but there was no going back for any of them.
Mrs. Stone grasped Nash’s hand, and he guided her to a dry spot before he turned to assist Addie. But she climbed down on her own. Her foot landed in a mud puddle that, if she’d accepted his help, she would have avoided.
Lifting her skirt hem, she shook her foot and turned, her gaze crashing into his with such force he drew back. Before he could ask for—hope for—an explanation for her behavior, she jerked her attention to the others and joined her mother.
“I’ll help you.” He spoke to Mrs. Stone but meant it for Addie as well. “It’s very slippery. Addie, wait here, and I’ll come back for you. You too.” He extended his offer to the men.
Mrs. Stone clung to him as they picked their way across the treacherous trail. A sheer drop-off on one side and numerous puddles at their feet…some deep enough to go over low footwear.
Mr. Bertrand marched ahead of them, but after splashing himself with mud twice, he slowed down and followed Nash. The incline of the road caused Nash’s feet to slide backward several times. He barely caught himself and prevented Mrs. Stone from falling on her face.
They reached the crest. He led the woman to a grassy spot. Mr. Bertrand chugged after them.
Stubborn Addie had started up the trail. Her feet mired in the mud, and she fell forward on her hands.
“Wait!” he called, but the look she sent his way blared refusal. Unmindful of the mud he sent spraying from his boots, he hurried back to her. “I’m going to help you.” Whether or not she wanted it. “Give me your hand.” He extended his arm and waited.
“I can do it.” She pushed upright and then tried to free a foot from the mud. It didn’t release, putting her off-balance.
He caught her arm and prevented her downfall. “I don’t know why you’re angry with me.” The words came through gritted teeth. “But I’m not about to let you lay in the mud because of it.” His grip on her arm remained firm as she worked her shoes free.
Their progress was slow. He meant to get some answers from her before they reached dry ground. “What have I done to offend you?”
“Was Mother all right when you got to the top?”
“She’s fine.” He didn’t want to talk about her mother, the mountains surrounding them, or whether or not those were storm clouds building in the west. “You’re not. Why?”
She struggled to free one foot from the mud, balancing her weight on his arm.
“It’s time to move on.”
But he didn’t lift his foot, didn’t take a step forward. “Don’t you think I deserve to know why you are treating me this way?” He moved in front of her and looked into her face.
Her gaze darted to the side, shifted to the sky behind his shoulder, and then to the valley gaping to the side. Inch by inch, her gaze came to him, at first looking at his chin, but then making its measured way to his eyes.
She studied him.
Anger—or was it regret?—seeped from her gaze. Then she gave a sigh and a little nod. “I’ve been behaving badly. I apologize.”
“That’s not an explanation.”
She lowered her gaze to his chin. “I—” Determination flared in her eyes, turning the irises to darkest brown and sending a trickle of alarm across his shoulders.
Her swallow was audible. She inhaled deeply. “I have bad memories that sometimes put me in a…well, a bad mood. I regretfully admit that sometimes I let that affect how I treat others.”
Yeah, it sounded reasonable—almost. “Why me?”
“Sorry?” Her brows rose.
“Why treat me like that but no one else?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it without uttering a word. Then she tried again. “All I can say is I’m sorry. I regret my behavior. Will you forgive me?”
“Of course.” Forgiveness was easy even though he didn’t understand.
Mr. Zacharius had almost reached them, carefully choosing his own way up the hill. He gave them a curious look as if to ask why they’d chosen this muddy, unforgiving spot to have any sort of discussion.
Indeed. But Nash had to know what was going on between himself and Addie before he continued, and he didn’t mean only the trail or the ride to Golden Valley.
She’d given an explanation, and he accepted it even though it left unanswered questions.
Her behavior hadn’t fit with the picture he’d constructed of a gentle, kind, sweet young woman.
Was she what he thought? Or was she given to times of unkind behavior?