Chapter 14 #2
The child nodded and he glanced at Chloe, watching her daughter with a small smile but little emotion in her eyes. She had something on her mind and had for days, but he’d promised his mother he wouldn’t push.
“All right then.” He reached for the line on the fishing rod, an old one that used to belong to his father. He let out the string and carefully handed the child the hook at the end of it. “You be careful with that. You get that hook in you, you’re going to have to let Doc Fillmore get it out.”
He winced and held back a laugh as the child carefully held the hook with one hand, the wiggling worm with the other, her tongue poking out the side of her mouth as she concentrated and wrapped the worm carefully around the hook.
He didn’t have the heart to tell her the worm would just fall off.
He glanced askance at Chloe, who cast a quick smile in his direction.
She’d warned him about that when they’d left the cabin.
“She’s not going to stab a poor worm on a hook, Nathaniel,” she’d murmured. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but I wouldn’t either.”
He hadn’t believed it but now he did. It didn’t matter. The child seem to be having fun and the expression on her face and the occasional burst of laughter that emerged from her throat lifted his heart. The kid deserved some happiness.
The worm wrapped around the hook, he slowly stood, one hand on the line as he extended the handle of the fishing rod toward the girl. “All right, swing it as gently as you can into the water but try and keep it away from the bank.”
“All right!”
With more exuberance than he had expected, Eliza swung the fishing pole out over the water.
The worm went flying in one direction, the hook in the other as it sank.
Chloe laughed and Eliza giggled. Nathaniel couldn’t help but smile as he watched both of them.
Something happened at that moment, something that he couldn’t explain and hadn’t ever felt before.
It almost took his breath away, like a punch to the gut, but not nearly as painful.
Seconds later, Eliza squealed. “I’ve got something! I’ve got something!”
Nathaniel blinked, glanced at the water, and sure enough, saw a slight disturbance in the water.
“Hold tight!” He bent down, hands on knees as she tightened her grip on the old cork handle of the fishing pole.
“Okay, slowly lift your rod.” As she did that, he reached for the string and gave it a firm tug, and sure enough, he felt weight on the end of it.
The child squealed happily. Chloe stood and made her way toward the shoreline, eyes dancing with pleasure as she gazed at her daughter and Nathaniel both before turning to watch the water as well. Sure enough, seconds later, Nathaniel pulled a fish from the water.
Eliza stared in amazement while Chloe placed her hand on her daughter’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. The fish wiggled in Nathaniel’s hand as he showed it to Eliza. “It’s a little on the small side, Eliza, so I don’t think this will be big enough to feed us all for supper.
It’s getting a bit late in the day to catch any more. Best time for fishing is at dawn and dusk. What do you say? Should we keep it or throw it back?” He glanced at Chloe and then back to Eliza. The child bit her lip a moment, watching the fish struggle in his hand, mouth gaping.
“Let it go,” she said. “I don’t want it to die.”
Nathaniel nodded. “All right, Chloe, here’s what we do.” He explained as he did it. “You hold the fish firmly and gently pull the hook out, like so. You can’t just rip it out. You don’t want to hurt the fish if you’re putting it back, right?”
“Right,” she said.
After he extracted the hook, he extended the fish toward her. “Take it with both your hands, hold it firmly but not too tight, and you can let him go.”
He watched as two small hands reached for the fish, grasped it as he had instructed, one hand just behind the head, the other near the tail, and then she sank down on her knees, put the wiggling fish in the water by the shore and then let it go, watching with wide eyes until it flipped its tail and disappeared.
“I did it!” she squealed. “I did it!”
“You sure did,” he said, a smile forming. He placed his hand on her head as she rose. “Remember, Eliza, to never take more than you can eat when you’re fishing.” She somberly looked up at him and nodded.
It was a relatively quiet walk back to the cabin and the house, Eliza occasionally darting ahead of them.
Nathaniel carried the picnic basket while Chloe held the fishing pole.
He noticed the change in Chloe as they headed back.
She’d grown silent, her thoughts her own and seemingly troubled based on her furrowed brow.
“Something on your mind, Chloe?”
She glanced up at him and veered slightly away, eyebrows raised. “What?” She blinked. “I … I just wanted to thank you for the wonderful day,” she said. “It’s one I’ll … that we will never forget.”
He glanced down at her. “Me either.” Eliza dashed from the trees and into the yard. “Next time we’ll have to fish at dawn or dusk.” She murmured something under her breath that he didn’t catch. She held his fishing pole so tightly her knuckles were white. “Chloe, what’s wrong?”
She heaved a sigh and tried to force a small smile. “Nothing,” she shrugged, her eyes on her daughter.
After they entered the yard, Chloe silently handed him the fishing pole and followed her daughter into the cabin.
He stood a moment, momentarily confused by her sudden change of mood, then heaved a sigh.
He was beginning to think he would never even come close to understanding women, but that wouldn’t stop him from trying. He grinned.
“It’s a start,” he said to himself, heading for the back door of the house. “It’s a start.”
Chapter 15
Chloe had noticed something odd over the past few days after she, Eliza, and Nathaniel had had the picnic and gone fishing by the stream. She stood in the open doorway of the cabin, looking at the back of the house before turning toward the grove of trees, the stable, and then beyond toward town.
In the near distance, the sound of the blacksmith hammering out a horseshoe or a shovel head echoed dimly over the valley. A dragonfly flitted through the yard. A squirrel scrambled up the trunk of a cottonwood and paused to look at her, tail flicking.
“I like it here,” she said softly. “God, I like it here. I know it’s not my home, but it feels like a home is supposed to be, or at least I think it is.”
Eliza hadn’t stopped mentioning their picnic or the fishing. Last evening at supper she’d asked Nathaniel when they could go again. Chloe watched his face as he gazed at her daughter, a slow smile curving his lips and softening his features.
At that moment she felt eyes on her and glanced toward Dalia, who watched her with a slightly lifted eyebrow before she turned away.
Chloe then glanced at Lillian, who thank goodness wasn’t looking at her but was listening to something Thomas was saying to her.
Missus Evans was focusing on her roasted chicken, not paying any of them any mind.
They’d noticed. They had to. They had to at least get a sense that she and her daughter were growing attached to Nathaniel. As much as she tried to hide it, to deny it, it was nearly impossible.
She constantly reminded herself that, at least legally, she was still wed to Everett. She had no business finding herself attracted to Nathaniel or wishing things could be different, that she had a chance to live a normal life. “No business at all,” she sighed.
She headed for the stable. The buggy horse was already in the corral.
She stepped inside the somewhat cooler interior, the scent of old, creosote soaked wood wafting into her nostrils along with the aroma of hay, chicken feed, oats, and manure.
She took the porcelain basin from the table and filled it with several handfuls of chicken feed and went back outside.
The chickens clucked loudly when they saw her coming, milling in a group around the gate.
After scattering the chicken feed, she checked the hutches, gathering eggs and placing them gently in the bottom of the basin. In one of the hutches, her fingers touched something hard. It wasn’t an egg, she knew that much. She jerked her hand back.
Then, with a frown, she put her hand inside the hutch again, felt around and carefully touched what felt like … like a piece of metal. With a frown, she tucked the basin in the crook of her arm and reached for the item, then stared down at it on her open palm.
A large bullet cartridge.
Her cheeks flushed with heat and her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach.
She frowned. How in the world had a bullet gotten into one of the chicken hutches?
She lifted her head and searched the yard.
She saw nothing to raise her alarm and yet the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.
She couldn’t help but wonder. No, it’s not possible!
“No,” she spoke out loud. She took a deep breath and exhaled forcefully, shaking her head.
“Don’t be silly,” she murmured. “No one even knows me here. I’ve only been in town a couple of times.
And Chloe is a rather common name,” she mused.
Everett wouldn’t know the last name she’d used since she’d been on the run and hiding all these years.
She finally gained hold of her senses, slid the bullet into the pocket of her skirt, thinking to show it to Dalia or maybe even Nathaniel.
Then again, maybe she wouldn’t. She knew very well that he was curious about her and her past, she could tell by the way he looked at her sometimes.
She also knew that sooner or later she would have to tell them all the truth about herself.
After all, Eliza was growing increasingly attached to the Cross family. The longer they stayed, the harder it would be for Eliza to move on with her, but she also knew she and Eliza needed to make a life for themselves. She had to—
“Are you all right?”