An Unexpected Widow (The Colorado Brides Series) by Carré White Page B

discovered Nathan in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a teacup in his hands.
    He glanced at me, as I neared, my skirts, rustling. “Good morning.”
    “Good morning. I have to milk the cow.”
    “No need. Already did it.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Have some tea.”
    “I’m making breakfast first.”
    “Jerry and I ate already.”
    “What did you eat?”
    “I hardboiled some eggs. Made some slapjacks. Nothin’ fancy.”
    I glanced at the sink, noting there weren’t any dishes. “Oh.”
    “We clean up after ourselves pretty good.”
    “When we come back from the William’s, I’ll make a proper lunch.”
    “There’s no need.” I turned to look at him, seeing a man who hadn’t shaved in a few days. He eyed me. “You sleep at all last night? Doesn’t look like it.”
    “I…tried.”
    “Maybe there’s good news today. Doctor Caldwell’s gonna take a look at those legs again.”
    “Yes, I know. I want to be there when it happens.”
    “You best eat somethin’ then, so we can get a wiggle on.”
    My appetite was nonexistent. “We can go now.”
    “You haven’t eaten anything.”
    “I…can have something later.” This didn’t sit with him well, as his expression dimmed. “I’m fine, Mr. Weaver. I usually eat very little in the morning anyhow.”
    “You’re welcome to call me Nathan.”
    Our eyes met. “Thank you for being so kind to me.”
    “You don’t need to thank me, Hannah.” He got to his feet. “Jerry’s staying to work the field. We’d best go, so I can help him later.”
    “I can take the wagon on my own. You don’t need to escort me.”
    “I’m seeing to your safety, Mrs. Clark. You’re not going out there alone.”
    His concern was endearing, and I felt myself softening towards him. My earlier assumptions had been rash, but he was still only a stranger. In the wagon, I glanced at him. “You’re from Missouri?”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Is your family there?”
    “My ma and pa died of sickness, my brothers took off to parts unknown, and my sister went to California. All that’s left are a handful of elbow relations.”
    “That’s sad.”
    He gave me a look; his eyes were shaded beneath the hat. “Yeah, well, I’m not waiting on any Christmas cards.”
    “That brings me to mind. I need to write my mother and sisters.”
    “Your family’s in New York?”
    “Yes, near Troy.”
    “Never heard of it.”
    “It’s north of the city.”
    “Never been out that way before.”
    He wasn’t older than twenty-five. “Have you ever been married?”
    “Nope.”
    “Ever come close?”
    “Nope.”
    “Ever been in love?” I watched him carefully, his mouth working, while he swallowed. He was difficult to read, and I wasn’t sure in the least, if I had hit a nerve or not. “Mr. Weaver?”
    “I got nothin’ to say about that. Nothin’ a lady should hear anyway.”
    We didn’t speak again, until we reached the William property, where, to my surprise, there were men working on the roof of the barn, finishing what had been abandoned the day before. I tamped down the bitterness I felt, hating the emotion.
    Nathan glanced at me. “You look like you’re about to cry.”
    “Maybe I am.”
     

Chapter Seven
     
    When I thought about things, they either fit into “the before Frank’s accident” or “after Frank’s accident”. What came before were happy memories of times spent in each other’s company, working towards our goals and starting a new life out west. My new memories were not as joyful. My days were spent tending to Frank, who continued to be perplexingly upbeat, even though he wasn’t able to feel anything from the waist down. Then there was the constant worry over the future and what would become of us now.
    Doctor Caldwell had pulled me aside a week earlier, saying, “I don’t know how to tell you this, Mrs. Clark, but…he might never be able to walk again. The bones are healing, but the paralysis seems permanent. You’d best prepare