Chapter Eleven
The storm hit a little after midday, and had raged on through the night and through the next day.
Nate stood at the window and watched it, glad that he wasn’t going out.
Out of force of habit, his food pantry was fully stocked.
It was useful when he knew it was going to be a dangerous time, and he didn’t want to head out to get food when it would be precarious.
The biggest problem wasn’t the lack of supplies or the lack of warmth in the house.
It was the boredom. Nate was always out and about, doing his job and coming back once he did it for the day.
He had things to do, but they never seemed to grab his attention when he really needed it.
He just ended up staring at the wall or out of the window.
At least Rachel had something to do. She’d been in the kitchen baking and cooking.
The delicious aromas wafting from that room made his stomach growl.
She even gave him things to try, and Nate was sure he would outgrow his trousers if he carried on.
Her food was really good, and he had to stop himself from scoffing.
It was awkward, but not as bad as he had expected.
Rachel seemed to be trying hard to keep the house in order and look after everything.
The house was mostly spotless, and Rachel kept on top of it.
That was good; Nate did like order. After having everything in disarray during the day, it was what he wanted when he got home. Maybe he could cope with this.
They hadn’t talked much, but when they had, she seemed attentive and wanted to listen. Knowing her upbringing had pinched his heart. He hadn’t known anyone who had grown up in an orphanage, but it couldn’t have been easy.
He still felt a bit awkward telling her what he had about growing up. Nate rarely opened up to people and definitely not to people he had just met. There was something about her that made talking feel easy.
They had spent time together around the fire, Rachel reading while Nate tried to think up something to do. Then she retired to bed, closing her door quietly.
He wanted her to open up a bit more, but didn’t want to force the issue. She would share when she was ready.
The storm finally ended come morning and Nate took that as his excuse to leave the house.
The snow was up to his knees, and it took him a while to clear the porch.
Then he made his way around the town, checking on the damage.
A couple of trees had fallen down, and a few houses had some minor roof damage, one door having been broken by a strong wind, but it wasn’t as bad as he thought.
Nobody had been injured, just a little shaken up.
Nate spent most of the day helping out and making sure everything went back to some sort of working order in town and on the ranch. He wasn’t one of those people who would stand by and watch everyone else; he got his work done.
Once that was underway, he made his way to Isabelle’s house. Jack was out, but Isabelle and her children were inside. She put a finger to her lips to quiet him as she let him into the house.
“They just fell asleep,” she whispered. “Don’t wake them just yet.”
“They’re asleep?” Nate looked at the clock on the mantel. “But it’s almost midday.”
“They were up a lot the last couple of nights. They were scared by the wind, and it gave them nightmares.” She tried to hide a yawn behind her hand and failed. “Jack and I were awake with them, trying to get them to calm down. I’m surprised we’re even awake right now.”
“Well, make sure you and Jack don’t overdo it. I don’t want you to collapse because of exhaustion.”
“You don’t need to worry about us. We’re fine.”
At least they were safe. Nate could tell by looking around that the house hadn’t been damaged too badly by the storm. There was a broken pane in the window covered with wood, and a tree had been blown over, but that was it. The house was still in one piece.
“I’m glad you’re all right,” he said hoarsely. “I wish I’d been here with you.”
“Like I said, things are fine. Jack can take care of us, and the children are safe.” Isabelle peered at him. “How did Rachel cope with the storm? I don’t know if she’s been in the middle of one like that before.”
“She kept herself busy.”
“Good.” His sister tilted her head as she regarded him. “How are you doing? You look worn out.”
“I’m not surprised. The wind was hitting my side of the house. I was up much of the night.”
Isabelle looked as if she didn’t believe him. She pursed her lips and folded her arms.
“I know you better than that, Nate. I know a lot of memories were going through your head…”
“It wasn’t bad this time,” Nate cut her off.
She raised her eyebrows.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s been fifteen years since Father died. I think I’ve learned to manage things on my own.”
“I hope you have. I still worry about you, Nate.” She chewed her bottom lip.
Smiling, Nate kissed her cheek before hugging her.
“You don’t need to worry about me, Isabelle. I’m old enough to look after myself.”
“Well, you’ve got Rachel to look after you now.”
Nate ignored her. He didn’t want to discuss Rachel.
His mind was still on what his sister had said.
And she was right; he had a lot of bad memories when it came to storms. Mostly because those were the times when the beatings were the worst. It was as if their father couldn’t tolerate his presence, and having him in the way all the time just made it worse.
The words he threw at Nate as he struck him always rang in his ears during storms. Isabelle knew how hard it was for him.
“And make sure you look after her as well,” Isabelle added. “I think she’ll be good for you.”
“I didn’t ask for the marriage, Isabelle.”
“I know, but you’ll come to that realization eventually. I know you will.” She tapped the side of her head. “You’re clever, but it does take a while to get in there.”
Nate sighed and bade Isabelle farewell, promising to come by for dinner later in the week. Turning his collar up against the brisk cold air slipping down his neck, he made his way home. He wanted to check on Rachel and see how she was doing.
He reached his house and opened the door, stamping off the snow.
His trousers were soaked up to the thigh, and they were sticking to his leg.
It felt ice-cold, and Nate shuddered. Maybe he should change his trousers as well.
As he headed toward the stairs, he stopped when he heard a crash from the kitchen, along with a muttered curse that sounded unlike anything Rachel had ever said.
“Rachel?”
Nate entered the kitchen, staring in shock at the sight before him.
The room was a mess. It was covered in flour, bowls of various fruits scattered across the counter, and there was sticky dough that Rachel was kneading furiously on the kitchen table.
Flour was all over her arms and even in her hair, smudged across her face.
She didn’t seem to notice it, though, carrying on muttering something under her breath.
Nate stared at the chaos all over the floor. It looked like she’d dropped something.
“What on earth has been going on in here?”
Rachel jumped, her eyes wide as she looked up.
“Nate! When did you get home?”
“Just now. What’s happened?”
Rachel huffed and managed to pull her hands from the dough, rounding the table to crouch and collect the broken porcelain bits from the bowl.
“The table rocked, and one of the bowls fell off.” She picked up the pieces and stood, carrying them to the sink. “I was stupid enough to think it would be fine, and it shattered.”
“Is that the only thing you’ve broken?”
She gave him a quizzical look.
“What? Of course it is!”
Nate looked around the room again
“Well, you could’ve made it a little tidier, couldn’t you? What have you been doing? Playing with the flour?”
“It clings to everything, that’s all.” She brushed her hair out of her eyes. You don’t have to worry about anything. I’ve got it sorted.”
“Sorted?” Nate barked out a harsh laugh. “You think this is ‘sorted’?”
“I’ll clean it up. You don’t have…”
He’d never seen the kitchen in such disarray. It was maddening. He barely recognized it as his kitchen. That thought rattled around in his mind.
His kitchen.
This was his space, not hers.
“It’s an absolute mess, Rachel!” Nate said sharply. “You’ve turned the kitchen upside down. What were you doing? Starting a bakery in my kitchen? And what about the rest of the house? Have you done any of that?”
Rachel’s expression tightened. She straightened up and glared at him, her eyes glinting.
“I have done the rest of the chores,” she said icily. “I won’t be starting on any baking like this until I’ve done everything else. I make sure of that.”
“I struggle to believe that after what I’ve seen.”
“And you’re being too harsh. You don’t even know what I’m doing!”
Nate scoffed at that.
“It looks like you’re making a mess!”
“I was doing something nice for you!”
That retort made Nate falter. He was confused. What was she talking about?
“How is making a mess doing something nice for me? It just looks like you’ve torn apart the kitchen.”
“Because I was making your favorite dessert!” Rachel pointed at the table. “See? Mixed berry pie. Isabelle told me you loved it. I was just making the pastry. But if you don’t want me to finish something for you, then I’m happy to leave it.”
She took off her apron and flung it at him. “I’m done. Thank you for reminding me not to waste my kindness where it isn’t wanted.”
She stormed out, leaving Nate staring after her. He was left with the echo of his own words ringing in his ears. How was this happening? He’d seen the bowls of berries, but he had not stopped to consider that she might have been making something for him.
And he’d been rude to her without checking first.
For the first time, the mess in the kitchen looked less like disorder and more like something different entirely. Rachel had been trying to do something kind, and he had thrown it back at her as if kindness were another burden he had not asked for.