toward the end of the field.
He put his Stetson back on. “My folks weren’t pleased when I left for Texas to become a cowboy. I haven’t heard much from them since then.”
“That has to be hard.”
He shrugged away her concern. “A man can get used to almost anything, given the chance. It helped being on the trail. You get so caught up in being busy that it’s easy to forget how alone you are.”
“So that’s what you did before you came here? You were a cowboy?”
He shrugged. “Nothing else worked out.”
He was intentionally being vague and she knew it. She figured since he was living on her farm, she had a right to a real answer. “What didn’t work out?”
He was quiet for a long moment, then turned to meet her gaze. “I met two brothers while I was on the trail. We became really good friends and decided to start a horse ranch. I was in charge of training the horses. I loved it. I thought I’d found my calling. Things were great for a while, then they turned bad—real bad. We lost the ranch. There’s nothing left of it now.”
She bit her lip. “That’s what you meant about God scattering your plans to the wind, isn’t it?”
“Pretty much.”
“What happened to your friends?”
He frowned then tugged his Stetson farther down. “One of them died. The other one didn’t end up being such a good friend after all.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she offered softly.
He gave a short nod in acknowledgment of her sympathy. “That’s why your advertisement seemed Heaven-sent. I wanted a new life and there it was.”
“You thought it was God’s will.”
“Yes, I did,” he said, then shot her a half smile. “But, as you said earlier, I guess I was wrong.”
She glanced at the fields thoughtfully. “You know, I can’t hear the words ‘God’s will’ without thinking about my parents’ deaths.”
“Why?”
“After they died, I can’t tell you the number of people who tried to comfort me by saying that. ‘It’s God’s will.’ It became almost more of a cliché than ‘He needed them in Heaven.’” She swallowed, then shook her head. “I remember thinking if that was God’s will then I didn’t want it.”
“You were grieving,” he reminded gently. “People think all sorts of things they don’t mean when they’re grieving.”
Yes, but I meant it. She pulled her gaze from the field to meet his. The sympathy there unnerved her. What had she been thinking? She’d told a stranger more than she told her close friends. There was aura of warmth about Nathan that made it easy to talk to him.
It was like the feeling she’d had when they first met: an implicit knowing. It hadn’t made sense then. Now she knew it stemmed from the information he’d received through the letters. He knew enough about her without her confiding even more.
They were both quiet for a while, then Nathan tilted his head to gesture toward the field. “How do you normally bring in the harvest? I guess it’s nothing like herding cattle.”
She smiled. “Probably not. The harvesters are coming in about a month. They have a big machine that goes through the field and cuts the wheat. After that they use another machine to separate the wheat from the hay. They’ll take fifteen percent of our wheat as payment.”
Nathan glanced at her in surprise. “They take fifteen percent of a crop this small? That seems like a lot.”
Kate frowned at him. “First of all, this isn’t a small crop. It’s even larger than the one I planted last year. Secondly, there isn’t much I can do about the cost of the combine unless I want to use a scythe. It would take much longer for me to do it that way by myself. I wouldn’t get it to the market on schedule.”
“I see your point.”
She glanced up at the sky, realizing she’d gotten distracted. “Speaking of time, I’d better get back to my chores.”
“Can I help?”
“You can rest or go explore the farm by yourself.” He looked frustrated by her statement but she pinned him with a look. “No working. Doctor’s orders, remember?”
He caught her arm before she could turn away. “Before you leave, you should know I’m planning to go to town tomorrow to find out what needs to be done for the annulment. You might want to come with me in case there’s something that can be done right away.”
“That sounds fine. I have some supplies to pick up from the mercantile anyway. You can take care of the paperwork. Just come get me when I’m needed, and we might be able to finish this matter then and there.” Strangely enough, she couldn’t make herself smile at the thought.
As she walked away from him she realized she’d taken a dangerous step by finding out so much more about Nathan. He wasn’t a stranger anymore. He was a man she could sympathize with. He had feelings, hopes and dreams that deserved respect. She was going to crush one of those dreams when she signed that annulment, but it couldn’t be helped. She’d forget about the man she’d known for a few days. He’d forget about her and move on just as easily. That’s all there was to it.
Nathan hit his Stetson against his leg impatiently, then leaned against the wall of the cramped waiting room of the only courthouse in a fifty-mile radius, fidgeting uncomfortably as the cut on his back started to itch. He hoped that meant it had already scarred over but he couldn’t be entirely sure since he couldn’t actually see the wound.
The note Doc had given him said to change the dressing every day but he hadn’t done that because he couldn’t reach it. He knew he was supposed to ask for Kate’s help but he couldn’t get himself to ask. He’d be long gone in a few hours anyway so it hardly mattered now.
He’d considered getting a job in Peppin, but that would mean seeing Kate and knowing she thought of him as nothing more than a mistake. Perhaps he should contact Davis Reynolds. The Rutledge and Reynolds families had been neighbors in Oklahoma. The Reynolds main crop had been cattle but they’d also maintained a beautiful herd of horses. As a teenager, Nathan had sneaked away to the Reynolds’ farm to watch the ranch hands work with the horses. Eventually, Davis had recognized his passion, taken Nathan under his wing and taught Nathan everything he knew about raising horses.
Nathan’s father had never gotten along with Davis and was chagrined to watch the man encourage what he called Nathan’s goofing off. He’d begun to restrict Nathan’s freedom more and more. The less freedom he had, the more he’d yearned for it. He dreamed of wandering the open plains as a cowboy. He’d longed for the chance to combine the skills he’d developed with horses with the knowledge that had been drilled into him about cattle.
When the Reynolds family had sold their ranch and decided to move to Texas, Nathan traveled with them. They parted ways not long after passing the state line. Davis made Nathan promise to send word if he ever needed anything. Now it looked as though he needed a new future—again. He’d be willing to settle
