A Baby for Christmas (Christmas in Eden Valley #2) - Page 49/95

As he continued, he soon had them all laughing at the fussiness of his hostess.

A lull followed his story. Louise turned her face toward Nate. “You must have had some exciting experiences while out cowboying. Tell us about them.”

Nate thought of a storm he’d been in a couple years ago. “Me and three other cowboys got stranded in the open for two days and a night. In a storm that sounded like it came from the depths and felt like it came right off the North Pole.”

Louise’s eyes widened and she reached for his hand. Was it as natural to her as it felt, he wondered, or did she do it on purpose to convince the others they were truly married? But why would she care what they thought? Except for Missy, they would likely never see any of them again after this trip.

“What happened?” Louise asked.

“One by one we perished.”

She blinked, gave a mirthless laugh, then flicked her hand against his shoulder. “You did not.”

The others laughed.

Missy leaned forward. “Tell us how you survived.”

He brought his gaze from Louise back to those around the table. “We were smart enough to pull down a bunch of willow branches to form a canopy. Then we banked up snow until we had a snug little cave. We weren’t exactly warm, but we survived with all our fingers and toes.”

“It sounds so exciting,” Gabe said. “Like the North-West Mounted Police crossing the country. They encountered snowstorms, thunderstorms that stampeded their horses. They ran out of supplies, couldn’t find water and yet they persevered and set up the fort where we are headed. I can’t wait to see Fort Macleod.”

Nate decided he wouldn’t inform the young Adams that the fort was not as glamorous as he might expect.

Gabe proved to be a good storyteller and continued with tales of the Mounties’ trek west and then turned to stories about the railway that was meant to unite the eastern colonies with the West.

“Seeing as Dusty isn’t back, should I make some dinner?” Louise asked during a break in the conversation.

The door rattled and they all turned toward the sound. But no one came in.

“It was only the wind,” Dutch said. “I surely wouldn’t mind something to eat.”

Louise bustled about the kitchen and soon a savory smell filled the room. The group continued to share tales as Louise served up the vegetable soup she’d managed to concoct.

“You’re an excellent cook, Mrs. Hawkins,” Archie said after he’d cleaned his bowl. “Nate here is a privileged fellow.”

“Thank you. I hope he remembers it.” She nudged Nate in the ribs.

He grinned at her. “I will.”

She tore her gaze away and grabbed up the used dishes.

Missy and Miss Rolfe hurried to help wash them, and in a few minutes returned to the table.

“What about you, Miss Rolfe?” Sam said, bringing their attention back to storytelling. “Tell us about yourself.”

She sighed softly. “This is the biggest adventure I’ve ever been on. My mother passed on when I was fourteen and I stayed home and ran my father’s house.” She worried a fingertip. “He began to forget things about five years ago. It got worse and worse so he couldn’t remember ordinary things. Like whether to put sugar or flour in his tea. I couldn’t leave him alone for the final two years of his life. He passed on last winter. It’s taken me that long to decide to do something different with my life.”

Archie smiled. “Good for you—both for caring for your father in difficult circumstances and being brave enough to take hold of life with such courage.”

“Why, thank you. But you and your son are moving on, too, it seems.”

Mr. Adams nodded, his expression sober. “My wife died of consumption a year ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Miss Rolfe said.

The others murmured sympathy.

Archie looked around the table. “This is about as much adventure as I care for, though I’m excited about starting a new business and a new life.”

Nate thought of how many of them were hoping for a new life. “My wife’s father raised her in a mining camp. Louise, you must have seen some strange things there.”

She laughed. “There were plenty of odd characters.” Her gaze went to the door as if the thought of odd characters made her think of Dusty. “Guess the one that impressed me most as a child was the man who slept beside his donkey.”