hands, braced her feet, mentally preparing herself for the ordeal. “You didn’t come to church.”
“No, I didn’t think to mention that last night.” He shrugged, keeping watch as Eberta rode out of the shadow of the house on a gray mule. “You look as if you mind.”
“I would appreciate you being up front with me.” She watched the mule swish his tail as he walked along, heading back toward town. The sunlight blazed across the landscape, bringing the snow to life, making it shine, making it glitter. Inside she felt dark and afraid. What if by speaking up to protect George she lost him his new father? Her stomach clenched tighter at the thought. “Why don’t you attend? Amelia does.”
“I used to, but I stopped going.” What looked like grief carved lines into his handsome face, crinkling around his eyes, bracketing his chiseled, firm mouth into a reserved frown. “I have no objection to anyone else attending. I just lost the faith for it.”
“Oh.” What on earth did someone say to that? She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat, wishing she knew what to do. “In truth, for the entire year after Timothy passed, I couldn’t force myself to attend a single service. Not even Christmas.”
“But you went back.”
“I needed to. I needed faith. Life isn’t the same without it.” She squinted into the sun. Eberta was a shadow against the endless white. “Maybe one day you’ll go back, too.”
“I tried. I couldn’t.” His throat worked. He turned stonier, all the gentleness fleeing from his face, all the softness, all the feeling. “I tried for years until I finally gave up. It hurt too much to try. I don’t plan on going back. Hope that isn’t a deal breaker for you.”
“What about the wedding?”
“Guess I can’t disappoint Amelia, not about this, not with you.” He shrugged his brawny shoulders. He looked compelling and yet rugged at the same time. Human, but unreachable. “This one time only.”
“I see.” She leaned against the railing, facing him, pulse skittering. “That isn’t a deal breaker for me, but perhaps what I have to say will be one for you.”
“I’m listening.” He went rigid. Tense cords of tendons bunched in his neck. Strained muscles jumped along his jaw line as if he expected the worst.
“I understand, but George didn’t.” Her voice broke, betraying a tremor of emotion she hadn’t meant to express. She sighed. “Today at church, he was the only little boy without a father beside him. Again. I can’t tell you what it has been like watching how painful that is for him, hurting because he is hurting. For years, he’s been the boy watching all those fathers and sons, wishing. Just wishing. It’s been a terrible hole in his life and in his heart. I thought that was over for him, but it wasn’t today.”
“Oh.” Cole closed his eyes. It was as if all six feet of him winced in painful realization. His dependable, wide shoulders slumped. He stared down at the toes of his boots, still as stone. “That wasn’t my intention.”
“I realize that now.” Hands trembling, she splayed them against the wooden rail, needing something to hold on to. Relieved that he wasn’t angry with her, relieved that he was very much the earnest man she’d met through his letters, she took a deep breath of the cold air. It burned in her lungs like an icy rush. “This is, after all, about the children. If there’s something I’m failing to do for Amelia, you should let me know.”
“Right.” He nodded, staring intently down at his boots, refusing to look at her. He looked as remote as the mountains in the distance, as icy as the land mantled in snow. But when he raised his head and his gaze met hers, life shone there. She read his promise in that look, felt the solemnity of it, could see all the way to his heart. She didn’t know why a son was so important to him, why he’d chosen her and George out of all the letters he must have received, but she was appreciative beyond words.
“Guess I’ll figure out a way to face church. I’ll do my best to make sure it doesn’t happen to George again.” Determination showed in the lift on his square, chiseled chin. “If it does, I’m sure you’ll remind me.”
“Yes, I’ll be right on that. I have a sharp eye.” Now she was smiling, amazed how fast that vast distance between them seemed to vanish, how quickly he could change from remote to approachable. Somewhere inside beyond all the defenses, he had a very good heart.
“Mercy!” Amelia’s faint shout penetrated the outside walls of the house and the closed door. “Come see!”
“Now it’s my turn,” she said gently. Without realizing it, she reached out to touch the man. Her fingers landed on his arm, the act as natural as breathing. Aware of what she’d done, her breath hitched. She raised her eyes to his. She read confusion there, but he didn’t move away. She did, removing her fingers from his coat sleeve, her fingertips tingling sweetly from the contact.
She felt the lingering weight of his gaze on her back as she crossed the porch and opened the door. Something had changed between them, something that went beyond words, something she could not describe. But the sun seemed to shine more brightly, the wind held less of a bite, and when she stepped into the house and closed the door behind her, the warm, friendly feeling within her remained.
“Mercy!” Amelia dashed toward her, grinning widely, blue skirts swirling around her, braids flying. “You have to see what Pa got George.”
“Come look, Ma!” George’s voice echoed from deeper inside the house, out of sight. “I can’t believe I’m a real cowboy!”
Oh, the delight in his voice. The sound of it made her forget everything else. Her shoes tapped a merry rhythm against the hardwood floor, barely noticing her surroundings. The big gray stone fireplace, the windows letting in light and mountain views, the two overstuffed chairs in an otherwise sparse room.
A staircase rose to her right, ascending to the second floor. The kitchen was airy and pleasant, but she hardly noticed the oak cabinets and counters, the shiny new range or the round oak table seated in front of a big window. No, those details paled in comparison to the sight of her son standing by that table with a Stetson on his head and cowboy boots on his feet.
“They even fit, too!” George grinned at her, happier than she’d ever seen him. “I can’t believe it. They’re my very own. Amelia said so.”
“Be sure and thank Cole.” She blinked happy tears from her eyes, hands clasped together, just drinking in the sight of her delighted boy. “You look like a real cowboy ready to ride.”
“You surely do,” Amelia agreed. “Hurry, go show Pa. He’s waiting to show you your big surprise.”
“My horse?” George choked out, as if too overcome to say more. He hugged himself like a boy whose every dream had come true. “Oh, boy. I gotta go. ’Bye, Ma.”
“’Bye, kid.” She felt choked up, too. “Go and have fun with your pa.”
“I will!” His boots made a hammering sound, pow-powing through the house as he made a mad dash away.
She listened to his progress, heard the door open and Cole’s rumbling baritone as he said something to the boy. The door shut with a click, cutting him off. She swiped happy tears from her eyes.
“George was really excited.” Amelia wandered over to the stove.
