Clara stood, content to watch, as Blue sat on a pew and took the girls to his knees.
When she’d realized he was in the church, her relief had been so great she’d grabbed the wall to steady herself. To have his forgiveness made the room brighter, and she knew it wasn’t because of the morning sun.
She scrubbed her lips together. Forgiveness had mended the rift between them. She cradled her arms about herself to contain the disappointment in the pit of her stomach. Funny that a missed kiss could matter so much. She’d never been one for kissing. Rolland’s kisses had been perfunctory at best, and as he grew weaker and less interested in her and the girls, they’d stopped altogether. In some ways, she’d felt like a widow years before he died.
She brought her attention back to the scene before her.
“I’m sorry I was abrupt last night,” Blue explained to the girls.
Libby tipped her head to one side. “You didn’t come for supper.”
“Or breakfast,” Eleanor added.
“I went for a ride.”
“We wondered where you were.” Libby studied him hard.
She thought poor Blue would be squirming inside before Libby’s demanding look, but he smiled gently then dipped his head and touched his forehead to Libby’s. “I should have told you.”
Clara wanted to interrupt, to remind the children he didn’t need to inform them of his whereabouts. The girls had no such claim on him, any more than she did.
Eleanor caught his chin and brought him about to face her. “We thought you left. Everyone leaves.” Sorrow dripped from each word.
“Or we leave,” Libby pointed out.
Eleanor shrugged. “Doesn’t matter who goes.”
“Remember the sermon yesterday?” Blue said.
Two little heads nodded.
“Then you know that Jesus is your good shepherd who leads you to still waters and green pastures.”
Libby made a protesting noise. “Too bad God doesn’t lead us to a nice home. I wanted to stay at the ranch, but Mama said no.” She scowled at Clara.
“Sometimes we have to do things that are hard.” Blue pressed their heads to his chest and gave Clara a look of such regret she had to blink back tears.
He cared for the girls. Did he care for her? What would it mean if he did?
Did she care for him? Perhaps more than was wise.
Before she could examine that admission, Eleanor and Libby scrambled from Blue’s lap and went to the corner to play. He rose and turned her attention to work.
The pews would soon be finished. A mixture of regret and satisfaction tugged at her thoughts.
As she worked, she started talking. “Rolland was everything my father approved of—successful, well established.” The words crowded to her mouth as if they’d been waiting for release.
“Older and sickly?” he added.
“He was twenty-five years older than me. I don’t think Father knew his health was failing at the time we married.”
Blue carefully marked the dimensions on the piece of wood then straightened to consider her. “Would it have made a difference?”
“I don’t know.” It didn’t seem Father would be concerned for Clara’s sake. But he might have seen it as failure on his part.
Blue still held the tape and pulled it through his fingers in a distracted manner. “Clara, he was everything your father wanted, but what did you want?”
She twined her fingers together as she considered her answer. She knew what she wanted, but would he misunderstand? He waited patiently, giving her all the time she needed to sort out her thoughts. This unhurried way about him was one of the things she admired and appreciated.
“What I wanted and still want is what Linette and Jayne and the other women at the ranch have.”
He dropped the tape measure to the piece of wood and leaned back, his gaze probing hers, seeking truth. “What is that?”
“Freedom to be who they are capable of being.”
He nodded. “It’s what you are trying to discover, and I believe you will. In fact, I believe you are very close to it.”
She blinked at his response. He didn’t try to reason her out of what she wanted. Didn’t even offer to take care of her so she wouldn’t need to do it herself. Yet she knew he’d help her as much as she’d let him. He was a man who would—
She managed to stop her thought before it finished. Before she could admit he was the kind of man who might honor her abilities like Eddie and Seth and the other husbands she’d seen at the Eden Valley Ranch.
But had he not suggested she stay at the ranch where others could help look after her? Was she longing for something out of her reach, even believing she’d found it where it didn’t exist? Blue confused her. Made her think one thing and want another. How did he do that? Why did she allow it? She had so many questions about this man. Perhaps if they were answered, she’d better understand her own response and be able to control it.
“What was your wife like?”
He looked past her, into his memories it seemed. A gentle smile curved his lips. “You would have liked Alice. She wasn’t afraid of challenges. We packed all our belongings in a wagon and left Texas for Wyoming when she was already expecting Nancy. I suggested we wait until after the baby was born.” He chuckled softly. “She got all huffy and said she would deliver this baby in our new home, and she did.”
Amusement tickled Clara’s insides. “You poor man. How do you manage to get involved with stubborn women?” She hoped he wouldn’t be offended that she had innocently aligned herself with his wife.
He quirked an eyebrow and sought her gaze. “Just fortunate I guess.” He looked pleased with himself.
Clara ducked her head, afraid of the answering pleasure in her heart and uncertain how he’d interpret what he saw in her eyes.
To avoid further talk of his wife, she changed the topic to her children. “Eleanor was a quiet baby. She’d regard me with big solemn eyes as she nursed. I often felt overwhelmed at the trust she had in me.”
“And Libby?”
Clara laughed. “She always had definite ideas of what she wanted even as a tiny baby. She did not like to wait to be fed. The nanny thought I spoiled her by feeding her when she wanted it.”
“I hadn’t thought about it, but of course you had a nurse for them.”
“I did, but I let the nanny take care of the laundry and as they grew older, some of the meals. Mostly I insisted on taking care of the girls myself. I loved seeing every little milestone, having them turn to me when they wanted something.” She let those sweet memories fill her thoughts. “Rolland assumed the nanny did all the work, and I never disabused him of the idea.”
He chuckled. “Seems you always found a way to do what you thought best.”
She nodded. “I tried.”
“Many women would envy you a nanny and whatever other servants you had, but I have to agree with you. I can’t imagine letting someone else raise my kids.”
His words were like honey to her soul. When was the last time anyone had approved of her decisions? Had there ever been a time? Father didn’t think her capable of making a decision on her own. Never had. She knew Rolland would have disapproved of her choice in regard to the nanny, which was why she never told him. The nanny went along with her decision, but almost every day she made it clear she didn’t approve. But since it meant less work for her, she protested quietly.
“You’re the only one who has ever agreed with my choice about anything. Except for one maid who spoke to me just before I married Rolland. She said to remember who I was and what I was capable of. It was she who gave me my Bible. I wish I knew where she went. I’d thank her for it. It’s been my comfort and strength for all these years.”
They had both forgotten about the work before them and moved to a window though neither of them looked through it. He leaned on one side of the frame and she leaned on the other as they faced each other.
He studied her. “Do you find it a little odd that your challenges and disappointments have drawn you closer to God and mine have pushed me away?”
She touched his arm, knowing it was pain that drove the wedge between him and his faith. “I did not face anything like you did.”
He nodded, and seemed to cling to her gaze as if seeking more from her.
She wished she’d had time to think about her answer, but instead she let it come from her heart. “Blue, perhaps you are just a lost sheep and our good shepherd is seeking you to bring you back to the fold.”
He drew in a slow breath. “Yesterday when Bertie spoke of that story, I couldn’t help wonder something along those lines. ‘He restoreth my soul.’ Maybe it’s time for that.”
She rubbed his arm. “God never leaves us even when it feels like He’s turned His face away.”
He nodded. “I know.” He patted her hand. “I just want to say how much I admire you for insisting on taking care of your girls when you could have done otherwise and no one would think it unusual.”
“Didn’t your wife take care of your children?”
“Most of the time. I liked to help her. I especially liked to put them to bed at night. Beau wouldn’t settle if I didn’t rub his back. He insisted no one else knew how to do it right.”
Clara grinned. “He sounds a little like Libby.”
He turned toward the girls playing happily with their doll. Not once had they argued about sharing it. Clara was proud of them.
She watched Blue, picturing him helping with his babies, rubbing a little boy’s back. Her throat tightened. “I’d say your wife and children were fortunate to have you as a husband and father.”
He turned back to her, and their gazes caught and held. The moment filled with a sweet, fearful acknowledgment of the tender feelings between them.
Her attention drifted to his mouth. If not for the girls’ presence, she would be sorely tempted to ease over and hope he’d kiss her.
She forced herself to look elsewhere, anywhere but at his tempting lips and his alluring eyes.
She dare not let herself forget Fort Calgary and get comfortable in Edendale.
A shudder crossed her shoulder and clamped about her spine.
Now was not the time to let weak emotions control her.
* * *
Blue couldn’t help but notice her sudden withdrawal, the way she avoided meeting his eyes even when he tipped his head in an attempt to recapture her attention.
Perhaps she’d said more than she meant to—telling him he was a good husband and father. But he cherished the words. They reached into his heart and mended the broken places.
“You know, I’ve never spoken of my children to anyone but you since they perished. People around here don’t even know about them.”
She jerked her attention back to him. “I’m sorry.”
She’d misunderstood, thought he accused her. It was quite the opposite. “I’m not. It’s good to think of the wonderful times I had with them. You once said I had to take the past with me into the future. At the time I wondered how on earth that was even possible, but I think I’m beginning to understand.” The words came slowly as his thoughts took shape. “Memories of Alice and the children have become a part of my heart. Maybe they’ve even caused it to grow stronger.”
“Making you ready to love again?” She lowered her head as if she’d said more than she’d meant to.
He wasn’t sure he was ready for what she asked. The notion of starting over had only become an option he could entertain. Loving again seemed too new to contemplate. He realized Clara waited for him to say something. “At least making me ready to move on.” He shifted his gaze to the girls and shook his head. Love? Not yet.
He straightened. “Best get to work.”
They both rushed back to the sawhorse. Seemed she was as anxious to get back to normal as he was. It didn’t take long for him to realize he no longer knew what normal was. His thoughts drifted repeatedly to the pleasure he’d once known of coming home to a wife and two children eager for his return.
He’d told himself he’d never have such joy again. Didn’t even want it.
Seemed his heart had not listened.
By supper time, the last of the pew pieces had been cut. He could perhaps prolong the assembly and clean up for two days. Then there was the shellacking. He smiled to himself. That could reasonably take several days.
His thoughts slammed to a halt. He was dreaming up ways to delay her leaving, but all it would take for the dream to crumble was the arrival of the stagecoach. Instead of building a home, he’d be following her to Fort Calgary.
Well, Fort Calgary was as good a place to build a home as any. For how long?
He answered his own question. Until Clara’s father found them, or Clara thought he might, she’d always be looking over her shoulder, fearful of her father’s threat.
All Blue could hope to do was go where she went, do his best to keep them safe.
He should have warned Eddie he might be leaving. Instead, he’d have to send a message.
He and Clara finished for the day and went to the Mortons’ for supper.
He made the meal last as long as possible, even throwing out a conversation starter now and then.
“Linette must be going to have that baby soon.” The comment was good enough for twenty minutes of talk.
Clara had finished and was helping Libby clean her plate.
He racked his brain for another topic. “There’s getting to be quite a crowd at the cookhouse on Sundays.”
That grabbed Bonnie’s attention. “Any news on a preacher?”
The girls sat up taller.
Suspecting the reason for their sudden interest, he silently groaned.
“Mr. Blue could be the preacher,” Libby said.
“Just ask him not to talk for three or four hours,” Eleanor added.
Bonnie and Claude looked at each other, their eyes wide, and then Claude chuckled despite the warning look from his wife.
“Have you discussed this with him?” Claude asked the children.
They hunched forward, their heads down. “He said no,” Libby said.
Bonnie squeezed Eleanor’s hand. “I guess that’s your answer. We’ll simply have to keep looking for someone.”
Blue didn’t know whether to hide his face or chuckle along with Claude. He glanced at Clara. When she rolled her eyes, he laughed. “I doubt I could talk for an hour, let alone three or four.”
Eleanor’s head came up. “You’re going to change your mind?”
“Nope. ’Fraid not.”
The ladies rose to do dishes. Mealtime was over. But he didn’t want to spend the evening alone. Didn’t want to say good-night. He could hardly visit Clara in the shack. It wasn’t appropriate, and Prudence Foot would probably take note.
Bonnie turned to speak to Claude. “This afternoon I saw a small herd of deer go by toward the river.”
“Can we go see if they’re down there?” Libby asked. Eleanor’s expression was equally eager.
“I don’t think so,” Clara said. “Remember what happened last time we were at the river.”
“But, Mama, I won’t go near the water this time.” Libby clasped her hands together and silently begged.
Blue managed to keep a wide grin from claiming his mouth. Thank you, Bonnie, for giving me an excuse. “I’ll take you down if you like and if your mama gives permission.” He knew if she did, she would accompany them.
Clara kept her gaze on the girls as she nodded. “That would be nice.”
He wished she would look at him so he could gauge her response. Was she glad of the excuse or merely agreeing for the sake of the girls?
Either way, he only cared that he could delay saying good-night, though the approaching darkness would make it a short outing.
The girls quickly slipped on their coats. Blue and Clara grabbed their own, hurrying to keep pace with the eager children.
Blue caught them before they got out the door. “You’ll have to be very quiet if you want to see any deer.”
Nodding, their eyes bright, they tiptoed out and down the path toward the river. Clara stayed at his side. He tried not to think how good and right this felt...a family outing.
When they’d gone a few moments a flicker of movement in the trees caught his eyes. He planted his hands on the girls’ shoulders to stop them and pointed to the left. “See them in the trees?” There were three deer in the shadows.
Libby squinted and shook her head.
Eleanor caught her breath, and a look of wonder came over her face. “I see them,” she whispered, her eyes round with awe.
The animals’ heads came up, and they pranced away, disappearing in the trees.
“I saw them. I saw them.” Libby jumped up and down. “Can we go closer?”
“They’ll be gone now.” The deer’s keen senses had picked up the human intruders.
“Maybe not. Can we go see? Please?” She turned her blue eyes on him as she begged.
He wondered how anyone refused her requests. “It’s up to your mother.” He glanced back at Clara.
“Is there any danger?”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Do you think I’d be okay with the idea if there was?”
She lifted her hands in the air and grinned. “What was I thinking? Go have a closer look.”
Laughing, he led the way down the bank. The girls continued moving quietly as they scrambled down to the river.
He held out a hand to assist Clara, half expecting she would say she could manage on her own. But she took his hand. He smiled inside when she made no attempt to pull away once she reached the rocky shore. Nor did she resist when he pulled her closer, tucking her hand around his arm.
She didn’t look at him, but he saw the smile curving her lips and his grin came from a spot deep inside his heart that had been locked and silent for two years. It felt good to again feel alive inside.
“Be careful,” Clara called to the girls, who ran ahead. “Stay away from the water.”
“Yes, Mama,” they chorused.
Clara and Blue followed at a more leisurely pace. He, for one, was not anxious for this evening to pass. He allowed himself to think she shared the feeling.
They reached the spot across the river from where he’d seen the deer, and they drew to a halt.
The girls peered into the shadows.
Eleanor released a heavy sigh. “Aw, they’re gone.”
“’Fraid so,” Blue said.
She turned her worried gaze to him. “Were they scared of us?”
“I expect so.”
“But we weren’t going to hurt them.”
“How could they know that? And if they stayed to find out, and you did mean to harm them, it would be too late for them to escape.”
Eleanor turned her serious consideration to her mother. “That’s like Mama.”
Clara pulled back. “What do you mean?”
Eleanor answered her mother’s question. “You keep saying we have to leave, but like the deer, you don’t stay to see if it’s okay or not.”
Clara stared at Eleanor, who gave a shrug and went to join her sister watching the trees, hoping to again see the deer.
Clara shook her head. “Sometimes she says the strangest things.”
“She’s just a child.” But the similarities struck him. If the deer hung about, they would likely be shot. If she stayed, Clara feared her father would find her and take away her children.
“I do understand your need for caution,” he said.
At some point she’d slipped her hand away, and he reached for it and brought her back to his side. “Just remember you aren’t alone.”
She nodded and allowed him to guide her farther along the rocky shore of the river. The girls ran ahead.
He rested his hand over her fingers where they lay on his arm. If only he could lock time to this place and this feeling, hold it forever in his heart.
Instead, he must be like the deer, too, running from the threat of danger in order to be with this woman and these children he’d grown to care about.
Of course, there was another choice. He could go back to being alone, pushing away the past, refusing to face the future.
His heart crowded against his ribs. He could not remain a prisoner of his past.
But would he ever find the life he wanted with Clara and her children? The wisest thing might be to leave them to their plans and seek a way to fulfill his.