Chapter 5
Two days later, Grace linked her arm companionably through Eleanor’s as they walked the short distance from the parsonage to the church.
The Montana sun warmed their skin, and the scent of pine and turned earth filled the air.
Nora rode comfortably on Eleanor’s hip, one small hand fisted in the fabric of her dress.
“You’ll like Cora and Agnes,” Grace said with an encouraging smile. “They’re the heart of this town when it comes to looking after folks.”
Inside the church kitchen, the long wooden table was already dusted with flour.
Cora Teague, slender with graying hair pinned in a low knot, kneaded dough with steady hands.
Agnes Hartwell, tall and sharp-featured, wore a crisp apron and shaped loaves with precise movements. Both women looked up as they entered.
“Louisa!” Agnes greeted warmly. “We heard you were coming, so we’ve made room for you."
Eleanor nodded and settled at the table, with Nora balanced on her hip.
She rolled up her sleeves and plunged her free hand into the soft, yielding dough, kneading with one hand while the little girl babbled happily.
Nora tugged at the ribbon tying Eleanor’s braid and stretched it toward Cora, uttering a string of half-formed words.
Cora chuckled in response. “How pretty,” she said with a smile, then glanced at Eleanor. “She’s got plenty to say today. She’s usually as quiet as a cemetery.”
Agnes looked up from her work, studying Eleanor with observant eyes. “You know, Nora has taken to you faster than she ever did with any of us. It usually takes her weeks to warm up to new faces.”
Eleanor kept her gaze on the dough before her, pressing and folding rhythmically. “I shall take it as a compliment that she considers me fit to be a comfort to her.”
“Where did you learn to handle her so well?” Agnes asked. “Most young women fresh from the city seem nervous around little ones.”
“My mother was a trained midwife,” Eleanor replied. “She taught me everything she knew from the time I was old enough to fetch water and fold rags.” Her voice caught slightly at the memory of her mother’s work and her quiet instruction delivered throughout countless nights.
Agnes nodded in approval. “Those are skills that could be put to good use in a town like this. We’ve got homesteaders and new families scattered across the valley, and only one doctor. Having a woman who understands midwifery and childcare is worth more than gold out here.”
The words landed like stones in Eleanor’s stomach, and overwhelming guilt washed over her.
These women had welcomed her without question, offering friendship, fresh bread, and a place at their table.
Yet she sat among them under a false name, carrying secrets that could shatter the fragile trust she was building.
She was deceiving good, honest people who deserved better.
The thought threatened to choke her until Nora began tugging insistently at her skirt, demanding attention.
She had only set the child down for a second.
Still, Eleanor only smiled as she set the dough aside and lifted the little girl into her arms, holding her close to her chest. Nora’s complete, innocent acceptance offered a small measure of comfort, for in the child’s eyes there was no judgment.
Eleanor pressed her cheek to the soft brown curls and breathed deeply.
Later that afternoon, back at the parsonage, Eleanor sat on the rug in the sitting room watching Nora play. The little girl sat surrounded by her toys, cooing happily at a rag doll. Sunlight slanted through the window, catching dust motes in the air.
Without warning, the memory crashed over Eleanor like a bucket of cold water.
She found herself staring at Arden’s calm, calculating face, caught in his gaze like a mouse in a trap.
Then she blinked. All she could see was Henry Pryce lying face down in a spreading pool of blood.
She closed her eyes tightly, heart racing.
“Forgive me,” she prayed silently, the words desperate in her mind. “Lord, show me the way forward. I cannot carry this secret forever.”
Before she could open her eyes again, a soft thud brought her back. Nora had dropped the doll and was crawling determinedly toward her. As soon as Nora was close enough, she pulled herself up onto Eleanor’s lap, looking up with her father’s blue eyes.
Eleanor immediately wrapped her arms around the little girl. “You sweet girl,” she whispered, kissing the top of Nora’s head.
Just then, the front door opened. Levi stepped into the room and paused when he saw her. “Louisa? Is everything all right?”
She managed a small smile. “Yes, I was just praying. It seemed Nora wanted to join me.” The little girl nodded enthusiastically.
Levi raised an eyebrow in silent question before crossing the room and sitting down, his broad frame filling the space with his quiet presence. “What were you praying for?”
Eleanor hesitated, stroking Nora’s back. “Guidance,” she said simply. “The women at the church kitchen today were very kind to me. I do not feel I deserve it, so I was asking God how best to navigate these feelings.” It was not the whole truth, but it was enough to sound convincing.
Levi watched her face with those steady blue eyes, as if searching for something beneath her words. “Kindness is not something a person earns, Louisa. It is a gift, one we’re meant to receive with open arms.” His voice stirred something deep within her, something she was not yet ready to address.
Luckily, Nora leaned forward then, reaching both arms toward her father with a happy sound.
Levi leaned in to take her, causing their hands to touch during the transfer.
For a brief moment, his warm, calloused fingers lingered against hers.
Neither pulled away at first, and the contact stretched for the length of a heartbeat, sending an undeniable current through Eleanor. His touch seemed almost reverent.
But then it was gone, broken without warning as Levi settled Nora against his shoulder. But then his gaze lifted to meet hers. In the soft afternoon light, the space between them felt smaller, charged with unspoken questions and the first fragile threads of connection.
Eleanor looked down at her hands, her heart beating fast. She had come to Montana seeking a place to hide.
She had promised herself she was marrying Levi for safety and nothing more.
And yet there she was, feeling the dangerous pull of something else – something that made her deception weigh even heavier on her soul.