Chapter 14
“Something’s bothering you, Nathaniel,” Lillian said, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “Want to talk about it?”
He shook his head, watching as his mother sliced smoked ham for sandwiches on the work table beside the stove. Canisters of flour and sugar were placed up against the wall, and smaller glass jars containing salt, baking soda, and baking powder stood in a neat row at the back of that table.
On the kitchen table stood the picnic basket. This had been his mother’s idea, for him to take Chloe and Eliza on a picnic. At first he had protested, claiming his job kept him too busy for such idleness.
“You can’t spare an hour or two? It’s not like you’re going far, just going to the creek on the other side of the grove.”
He should have said no, but in all honesty, the thought of spending a bit of time alone with Chloe and Eliza might be a good idea. The more secure and safe Chloe felt, the better.
He still felt guilty after pressing her the day before yesterday about information regarding her husband.
It should’ve been clear to him that she was terrified of the man, and of course, she wanted to protect her daughter.
He admired her for that. Yet he couldn’t deny his frustration that she refused to speak of him. Why didn’t she trust him?
He tried to understand her reticence, but from his perspective, wasn’t capturing the outlaw and putting him in jail, if he wasn’t already? Better than constantly worrying or fearing what could be behind you.
“It’s not that,” he murmured.
Lillian tossed the towel on the table next to the picnic basket and glanced at him. “You like her, don’t you?” she asked softly.
He frowned and turned his sister. “What kind of question is—”
“You like her and Eliza.” She smiled. “There’s nothing wrong with that, Natty. They’re still new here. She’s been pulling her weight helping out in the boarding house and with the laundry and cleaning and cooking. She deserves a little fun, don’t you think? And frankly, so do you.”
“Fun?”
She nodded. “Fun, Nathaniel. Take a fishing pole. Think of anything but work for a change. It’ll do you good.”
He glanced as his mother, who still had her back turned toward them until she glanced over her shoulder at her daughter. “Being the county sheriff is a full-time job, Lilly,” he said. “And you know that.”
“Well of course it is, but it doesn’t mean you can’t take a couple of hours for yourself once in a while, does it?”
He supposed not. Actually, he wouldn’t mind spending more time with Chloe and Eliza.
They’d finished fixing up the cabin and while it was sparsely furnished, it was clean and comfortable enough.
Lillian had even commented that she and Chloe planned on sewing some curtains for the windows, which prompted him to wonder just how long Chloe was going to stay.
Not just at the cabin, but in Cedar Bluff. He asked the question nagging at him.
“Mother, has Chloe said anything more to you about her past?”
Dalia glanced over her shoulder again and shook her head. “No. Are you expecting her to?”
“The other day I asked her to tell me more about her husband, suggesting that maybe I could find him, learn if he was in jail or even if he was alive or dead. She’s been living in fear all these years and now with Eliza, you’d think she’d want to know.”
His mother turned around, slowly shaking her head. “Not everyone is like you, Nathaniel,” she said softly.
“I don’t expect people to be just like me.”
“For some, memories are so painful they have to be pushed way down or they can make a person go mad.”
His mother’s tone was soft, her eyes not quite meeting his.
Was that how she felt about his father’s murder?
Wouldn’t it bring his mother some comfort knowing that the men who’d murdered her husband had been found and punished?
She put her knife down, wiped her hands on a small hand towel, and moved away from the worktable.
She paused in front of him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Some people just need time. Others might not speak of the past at all. Others might dwell on it, unable to move forward. Everyone deals with past events differently, you know that.” She sighed softly.
“Leave her be, Nathaniel. She’s found her daughter.
Let her enjoy this time with Eliza. When she’s ready to talk more about her past, she will. ”
He thought about that and silently nodded, but also prayed that Chloe’s desire to bury her past didn’t come back to haunt her and Eliza both. As a former deputy and now a sheriff, he’d seen firsthand that secrets had a way of eating at relationships, not to mention a person’s soul.
*
The air warm and still with nary a breeze as Nathaniel stood at the edge of the yard between the house and the cabin, whose door stood open. Behind him the house windows were raised to let in a cool breeze if one ever came.
The cow mooed lazily in the small corral, the buggy horse standing nearby, ears twitching and tail lazily swishing at flies. A bee buzzed nearby and he glanced at it, bouncing from flower to flower amidst a small patch of wild yellow daisies near the grove of trees.
A figure emerged from the small stable and a wilted looking Eliza appeared, her blouse and skirt covered with smudges of dirt and pieces of straw, feet bare as she made her way toward the cabin.
One of her braids was nearly undone. She impatiently brushed a clump of hair back from her forehead, prompting his grin.
Just before she reached the door to the cabin, he stepped further into the yard past the clothes line and caught her attention. She stopped and watched him approach, and he couldn’t help but notice the brief second of wariness in her expression before she smiled.
“Kinda warm today, isn’t it Eliza?” he asked, stopping a few feet away from her. He lifted an eyebrow. “How are the kittens doing?”
Her eyes grew wide. “How do you know about the kittens?”
“Went up and took a peek the other day,” he replied. Her eyes widened still more.
“You climbed up into the loft to visit the kittens?”
He nodded. “They’re cute, aren’t they? You name them yet?”
A frown tugged at her eyebrows. “Mama Chloe told me not to, that maybe Missus Dalia was planning to give them away.”
He shrugged. “Sometimes she does, sometimes she doesn’t.” He tilted his head to the side. “It’s pretty hot today.” She somberly nodded. “Where’s your mother?”
Eliza gestured toward the cabin. “I think she’s mending I … I was just going to …” She looked down at her smudged dress and dirty feet. “I was going to help after I cleaned up.” She grimaced. “She told me I needed to learn how to at least sew on a button.”
His grin broadened as he gazed at her for several moments. “Tell you what. Have you ever been fishing?” She shook her head.. “Maybe you and me and your mother could go fishing, catch some fish for supper.”
“I thought you didn’t like fish.”
An eyebrow rose. “Who told you that?”
“Miss Lillian,” Eliza said with a small giggle. “She said you were afraid of them.”
He barked out a laugh. “I’m not afraid of fish. I just don’t like them.”
She frowned. “But if we go fishing and have fish for supper, what would you eat?”
“Oh, don’t worry about me,” he grinned. “I’ll find something to eat.” He paused. “You want to go? There’s a pond that’s formed off the stream on the other side of the grove. You could take a dunk in the stream and cool off.”
“I don’t know how to swim.”
His eyebrows rose. “You don’t?” She shook her head. “Does your mother?” The child shrugged.
“Well then,” he said, tilting his head, arms crossed over his chest. “Maybe it’s a good day to go fishing and learn how to swim.” The expression on the child’s face tugged at his heart, one filled with hope and wonder and excitement. Her bright smile, a rare sight indeed, prompted one of his own.
“You’ll teach me how to swim?”
He nodded. “Everyone should know how to swim, or at least keep their head above water, especially out here. And I’ll teach your mother too.”
Her eyes grew even bigger. “You’re going to teach both of us how to swim?”
He nodded and then held out his hand. “Come on, let’s go break the news to your mother.”
The child hesitated only briefly before she tucked her hand in his, a grin curving her lips as they headed for the cabin. A feeling he’d never experienced before swept through him.
He glanced down at the top of the girl’s head, for a second wondering what kind of life he might have missed out on because of his single-minded determination to seek justice, and maybe even a little bit of revenge, against the men who’d killed his own father and destroyed his family.
*
Less than an hour later, Nathaniel dug another worm out of the soft soil by the banks of the stream and placed the wiggling thing in Eliza’s soil-encrusted palm.
She giggled. He couldn’t help but grin as he cast a glance toward Chloe, sitting a short distance away under the shade of a cottonwood, her back resting against its trunk, knees pulled close and arms tucked around her skirt, watching them with amusement.
“You sure you don’t want to try, Chloe?” He held back a laugh as she grimaced and shook her head.
“No thank you, Nathaniel. I’ll watch.”
“Well, we’ll give it another try, Eliza, all right?” He knew it wasn’t likely they’d snag a fish or two this time of day and he’d known that when he made the suggestion, but he thought it was a good way to spend some time with the two of them without his mother or Lillian watching his every move.
He couldn’t deny that he wanted to get to know both mother and daughter a little better, and yet he also couldn’t deny that he was hoping Chloe would become a little less wary about talking about her past if they spent more time together.
Shame on you. You know very well why you wanted to go on a picnic. Just admit it. You’re attracted to her.
“Can I bait the hook this time, Nathaniel?”