“Tea has never sounded more welcome,” Archie said. He introduced himself and the others.
They needed no second invitation to stand by the stove. Soon they began to shed their mittens and scarves, and then their heavier outerwear.
Except for Louise, who huddled by the fire, her shawl drawn close.
“Louise, is something wrong?” Nate asked.
She didn’t even look at him, but worse, she didn’t object to what she called his fussing.
He glanced toward Missy, seeing his concern reflected in her eyes.
Louise sucked in a deep breath and shook her shawl from her shoulders, holding it in the crook of her arms. “I’m quite fine, thank you. But that cup of tea will be most welcome.”
He’d never been so glad to hear her say she was fine.
Nor so uncertain it was true.
Dusty served tea in a big blue enamel pot that Nate discovered, at first taste, had recently been use to boil coffee in, giving the tea a most unusual taste.
Sam and Dutch returned, shaking snow from their clothes.
“We won’t be going anywhere until this lets up,” Dutch announced. “Sure hope it doesn’t turn into a three-dayer.”
Nate stared out the window at the darkening sky. Out here, he knew snowstorms often lasted three days. He hoped this one didn’t. Taking the stagecoach had already slowed his journey a good two days. Add three days due to the storm and he’d be in danger of missing the mountain man.
He had no intention of losing his chance to buy that land. Surely they were far enough away from Rocky Creek that Vic wouldn’t follow them. Besides, would the man even want to leave the comfort of home to venture into the trials of winter travel?
So that left Nate with the option of leaving Louise and Missy to complete the trip on their own while he made up for lost time on his fast horse.
He stayed at the window even though there was nothing to see. For some odd reason, he didn’t want Louise to see the expression on his face and perhaps read his determination.
Chapter Ten
Louise watched Nate, tension in the set of his shoulders. There was nothing to see out the window. What was he thinking? Whatever it was, how would it affect her? Dutch had suggested they might be stranded three days. No doubt that weighed heavily on Nate’s mind. Would he leave them at the first opportunity?
She shivered at the thought. At least if anyone noticed, they wouldn’t think it odd. They had all been chilled to the bone before they reached this stopping house.
She’d meant to pray through the hours of their afternoon travel in the blinding snow. After all, she had much reason to call upon God, to seek His help and trust He’d answer. Not the least of which was the baby kicking at her ribs.
But to her surprise and annoyance, she’d fallen asleep. If her position when she’d wakened meant anything, she’d spent the afternoon practically curled in Nate’s lap.
No reason she should be embarrassed. He was, after all, her husband.
She almost laughed at the presumption of her thoughts.
Still half asleep and completely confused by her feelings of safety and security in his arms, she’d stood by the stove unfocused and distant until Nate’s concern had jerked her to attention.
Then she’d been foolish enough to agree to a cup of tea.
She forced herself not to grimace as she swallowed another mouthful. It was wet and warm. That was the best she could say about it.
With a barely audible sigh, Nate turned from the window and sat at Louise’s side, his hands around the cup of tea Dusty had handed him before he joined them at the table.
Dusty perched beside Missy, crowding to her side, though perhaps it was unintentional as the bench was not wide. He turned to Missy. “You’re a pretty little thing. Did you know that?”
Missy gave the man a look that would have discouraged anyone with half a brain. “So I’ve been told.” Ice dripped from every word.
“Can I get you sugar for your tea?” He’d offered none to the others.
“I don’t care for sugar, thanks.”
Dusty edged closer, though there was wasn’t enough room to insert a knife between them to start with.
Louise scowled at the man. His face looked like weathered leather, full of deep wrinkles. And he was old enough to be Missy’s father twice over.