Chapter Six
The smell of eggs and bread filled the room, but Daniel barely noticed. His focus was elsewhere. On Edith. On the mess he had gotten himself into.
“Eat up, Daniel,” Mary said gently as she moved around the kitchen, her hands busy as always. “You’ll need your strength. It’s going to be a long day.”
The morning light filtered through the thin curtains of the small room, casting a soft glow on the wooden table where Mary had already set out breakfast. Daniel sat at the table, his hands resting on the worn surface as he stared down at the plate in front of him.
He wasn’t hungry, not really. His mind was too full, too tangled with thoughts of what had happened the night before, of what he was supposed to do now.
Daniel picked up his fork, though he only pushed the food around his plate.
His stomach felt knotted, too tight to take in anything substantial.
Across the room, the fire crackled softly in the hearth, adding a warmth that contrasted the chill creeping through the window.
He hadn’t slept much, not after everything that had happened.
His mind had been racing with questions—questions he didn’t have answers to.
What was he going to do with Edith?
The fact that he’d stepped in to stop Carter felt like a decision he still wasn’t sure he had made consciously.
He had only known that he couldn’t watch a man sell his own daughter to the highest bidder.
Something inside him had snapped, and before he knew it, he was standing there, offering more than he could afford.
“Samuel’s still sleeping?” Daniel asked, more out of politeness than real curiosity.
“Of course,” Mary replied with a slight smile. “He always sleeps in after tending the saloon late. I swear, that man could sleep through a hurricane.”
Daniel nodded, though his mind wasn’t really on Samuel.
He kept thinking about Edith, about how fragile she had looked when she finally emerged from her fevered state the night before.
She was too thin, too pale. She hadn’t spoken much, but the fear in her eyes had said enough.
She didn’t trust him. He couldn’t blame her.
She had slept through most of the day and night, barely moving, just enough for Mary to help her through the necessities.
He shifted in his seat, trying to shake off the weight of everything that had happened.
The soft crackling of the fire, the warmth of the room, none of it felt comforting.
All he could think about was how Edith had looked at him—her eyes wide with fear and suspicion.
She had been terrified when she saw him, her body trembling as though she expected him to lash out at any moment. And who could blame her?
“Daniel,” Mary said, interrupting his thoughts. She turned from the stove, wiping her hands on her apron. “What are you planning to do now?”
Daniel looked up from his plate, meeting her gaze. He had been wondering the same thing since the moment he’d stepped in to stop Carter from selling her. “I’ve been thinking about it,” he said slowly, his voice low and uncertain.
Mary sighed, her face softening with sympathy. “I know what you’re about to say, Daniel. I really do. But you know she can’t stay here with us. We barely have enough room to swing a cat, let alone feed another mouth.”
“I know, Mary. I didn’t expect you to take her in. This is my responsibility. I got myself into this mess. I’ll sort it out.”
Mary’s gave him a stern, motherly look. “It’s not a mess, Daniel. You did the right thing last night. That man—her father—would’ve sold her to someone much worse if you hadn’t stepped in. You saved her.”
Daniel shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not quite able to accept her praise. “It doesn’t feel like I saved her,” he muttered. “Feels like I just bought myself more trouble.”
Mary didn’t say anything for a moment, just watched him with that knowing look she always had.
She could see right through him, and Daniel hated that sometimes.
He wasn’t one to talk about feelings or to let others see the weight he carried, but Mary always had a way of getting him to say more than he meant to.
He shook his head. “Well, I figured she could help out at the cabin. I could use someone to manage things when I’m away.”
Mary raised her eyebrows, considering his words. “You mean you’d take her to live with you? Out at the cabin?”
Daniel nodded. “It’s quiet there. She’d be safe. And... well, she needs a place to go. I can’t leave her out here.”
“You said ‘when I’m away,’” Mary pointed out abruptly. “You still planning on being gone for days at a time, doing what you usually do?”
Daniel looked at her, then at his plate. “Yeah. There’s work I can’t put off—trapping, trading. It’s how I make a living. I can’t stay at the cabin all the time.”
Mary’s brow furrowed in concern. “And what about Edith then? You can’t just leave her alone in the middle of nowhere. What if something happens? She’s still weak, Daniel. She’ll need time to recover. Who’s going to look after her?”
Daniel exhaled slowly, his fingers drumming against the table as he thought it through. “She won’t be completely alone. I’ll be there when I’m not out trapping. No one to bother her. I’ll make sure there’s plenty of food and supplies. She can tend to the place while I’m gone.”
“And if something happens? What if she falls ill again? What if there’s an emergency? You know how harsh it can be out there,” Mary said, her voice growing more insistent. “The wilderness isn’t kind to anyone, let alone a young girl recovering from fever and malnutrition.”
Daniel rubbed the back of his neck, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He hadn’t thought about all the possibilities, all the dangers she could face alone. “I’ll check in on her as often as I can,” he said, though even he knew it didn’t sound like enough.
“Daniel,” Mary said, her voice softening again, “you can’t take this lightly. This girl has been through enough. If you’re going to take her with you, you need to make sure she’s truly safe, even when you’re not there.”
“I guess that’s the only other idea I got,” Daniel said with a shrug.
“You’ll figure it out,” she said after a long pause. “You’ve got a good heart, Daniel. The girl’s lucky to have you looking out for her.”
Daniel wasn’t so sure about that. He wasn’t used to looking out for anyone but himself, and now he had Edith to worry about. What would she think of him? She had already looked at him with such fear in her eyes, and now she’d have to live with him?
His thoughts were interrupted by the soft creak on the floorboards.
Daniel turned his head just as Edith stepped into the room, her presence quiet and uncertain.
She looked better than she had the night before—her cheeks had a little more color, and though her eyes were still clouded with fatigue, they no longer held the feverish glaze they had.
“Morning,” Mary greeted her, her voice warm and welcoming. “How are you feeling today, dear?”
Edith hesitated, her eyes darting from Mary to Daniel. She looked cautious, as if she wasn’t quite sure whether she should answer. “Better,” she murmured, her voice soft.
Mary smiled kindly and gestured toward the table. “Why don’t you have something to eat? We’ve got plenty, and it’ll do you good to get some food in you.”
Edith shook her head quickly, as if the thought of eating in front of them made her uncomfortable.
Daniel noticed how her eyes flickered over him, landing on the scar that cut across his face.
Her gaze lingered there, and Daniel could feel the heat rise in his neck as self-consciousness washed over him.
He hated when people stared at his scars. He could see the curiosity, the pity, sometimes even fear, in their eyes. Edith’s gaze was different, though—it wasn’t just curiosity. It was suspicion. Distrust.
He cleared his throat and lowered his head, looking away from her, trying to hide the burn of shame that crept up his skin. She looked away too, her cheeks flushed, as though she had been caught doing something wrong.
“You should eat,” Daniel said, his voice rougher than he intended. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”
Edith’s brow furrowed, confusion flashing across her face. “A long day? Aren’t we staying here?”
Daniel shook his head, standing from the table. “No. We need to get back home. My cabin’s a good way from here, and there’s work to be done.”
Edith’s frown deepened, and he could see the unease creeping back into her eyes. “Home?” she echoed, her voice quiet. “You mean... I’m going with you?”
Daniel paused, realizing how harsh his words might have sounded to her. She was still scared, still uncertain about what her future held. He didn’t want to make her feel like she was being dragged from one place to another without a say.
“You’ll be safe there,” he said softly, trying to ease her mind. “It’s quiet. No one will bother you out there. You can take your time to rest, and we’ll figure out what comes next.”
Mary chimed in, her voice gentle. “Daniel’s cabin is a good place, Edith. It’s peaceful. You’ll have the space you need to recover. But, Edith,” she added more seriously, “what would you do if Daniel was gone for days at a time?”
Daniel cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly. “I have work that takes me away from the cabin. Trapping, trading... I’m not always there.”
Edith’s voice broke in, quiet but clear. “I’ve been alone before.”
Both Daniel and Mary turned to look at her, surprised by the calm in her voice.
“I’ve been alone for days,” Edith continued, her tone nonchalant. “My father would be gone sometimes for a week, drinking and gambling. It wasn’t easy, but I managed.”
Mary blinked, clearly taken aback. “You mean to say you’ve been left on your own, with no one to look after you?”
Edith nodded, sighing with resignation. “Yes. Plenty of times.”