“Not a problem. We’ll be ready to go.”
He dried the last dish and hung the towel on the rack by the stove. “Is there anything you need me to do?”
Her eyebrows came up. “You mean, besides marry me?”
He tipped his head in acknowledgment. “Do you need me to bring a trunk from the attic or...” He had no idea what she might need.
“I’m packed and ready to go.” She patted his arm. “Missy and I have been on our own for a while Nate. We won’t be a nuisance. I promise.” She rested her hand on the top of her tummy bulge. “All we need is the protection of marriage so Vic can’t convince strangers I’m a runaway wife.”
“Vic won’t bother you again. I promise.” He hoped his words were not another pretend vow.
Chapter Four
Louise was awake long before it was time to rise. The baby kicked as if excited about the journey. Just stay where you are for a few more days.
She lifted her head from her pillow. Did she hear a tapping at the door? A chill wove around her spine. Not Vic! She’d locked the doors solidly. But she knew that wouldn’t prove enough barrier to stop the man.
“Louise, are you awake?” Nate whispered from the other side of the bedroom door. He’d spent the night in the parlor, which should have made her sleep a lot better than it did.
Her lungs emptied in a whoosh and she rose gingerly from bed, donned a wrap and cracked the door open. “Yes?”
“I’m going to get a wagon. Lock the door after me.”
She waited until he went outside to move down the hall as fast as she could and turn the key.
Missy had begged to sleep in the room with Louise last night, saying she was afraid to be alone, afraid Vic would find her. She sat up as Louise returned to the bedroom. “Today we start our great adventures.” She lifted her hands over her head and laughed. With an ease Louise could barely remember, Missy scurried from bed and began to dress.
“Remember to wear your warmest clothes.” Although the weather had been mild, it was December and the temperatures could drop anytime.
Missy chattered as they dressed. “I’ve always wanted to see what was north of here. But more than anything, I want to get away from that vile Vic.”
“You’re about to get your wish.” Louise put the last of her things in her valise. She wouldn’t need much for the journey. Everything else was in a small trunk—baby things, some outfits for after she’d had the baby and a few mementos of her mother.
She paused a moment to let regrets at what she was about to leave waft through her, combined with wishes for what might have been if her mother had stayed.
Aunt Bea had told her the truth about Louise’s mother. Not that she died and that was why Louise and her pa were on their own, as Pa always said, but that she’d left Pa because she couldn’t stand the mining camps. Aunt Bea said she thought Ma had tried to take Louise, but Pa wouldn’t allow it. Louise thought Aunt Bea only wanted to remove the look of shock from Louise’s face. Ma had died of consumption three years after leaving them.
Louise reached into the trunk for an item.
“I have something of your mother’s,” Aunt Bea had once said, and brought out a painting of a young child. The painting she now held in her hands.
“Is that me?” Louise had fingered the frame.
Her aunt had nodded. “Your mother was a talented artist. The picture is now yours.”
“Thank you.” The painting had been her most cherished possession ever since. In it she was sure she saw love. But love had not been enough to make her mother stay. Because of that thought she’d never display the picture. For a moment she mused on a thought. What was enough to make any person stay? If not love, then what?
She’d considered the question many times and had never found an answer. Nor did she expect to today, either. She put the picture into the trunk, closed the latches, then went to the kitchen.
They ate a hurried breakfast. Aunt Bea insisted they take an abundant lunch for the journey, most of which was the remainders of meals Louise had prepared in the past two days.
A wagon rattled up to the house and Nate knocked.
She unlocked the door and stepped back to let him in.