She drew her arm away so Willa would not feel the shudder passing through her at the thought of married life. “I’m happy for you and Callie, Willa, but I do not want a husband. I do not want any man but Poppa to even touch me, now or ever! All I ask of God is the wisdom and strength to stay and care for Nanna and Poppa in spite of my fear.”
Chapter Six
“I’m sorry I’m late, Manning. I hope you weren’t uncomfortable.” Cole held his gaze steady on the elderly man, resisting the urge to look to where Sadie sat reading. There was no need. He could well imagine what she thought of him standing there all sweaty in his dusty, torn suit—not that her opinion of him could get any lower. Still, he’d hoped to improve that situation today. “I came straight here from church—despite my appearance.” He almost snorted at the feeble attempt to justify himself to her. He was giving far too much weight to Sadie’s power to—
“Reverend Calvert came to call. He helped Grandfather.”
Sadie’s cool, polite tone, the inference in her words, sent a rod of steel down his spine. She might as well have called him a liar. He drew a breath, then let it go when Manning tugged at his torn sleeve.
“What...hap...pened?”
“Why do you bother to ask, Manning? Daniel is an adventurer. He’s always unkempt.”
Daniel. He looked to where Rachel Townsend sat working her needlepoint, noted her opaque, unfocused expression, and his chest tightened in a way that was becoming all too familiar. He’d begun helping the Townsends as a way of atoning in a small measure for the hurt Payne had caused them, but the elderly couple had taken up residence in his heart—they’d become the grandparents he’d never had. He made her a small bow. “Please forgive my appearance, Mrs. Townsend. I did not mean to call in this disheveled state. It was unavoidable.”
She stared at him a moment, then bowed her head to her work. “At least you’ve manners enough to apologize.”
“Cole...” Manning gave another tug on his sleeve, pointed to the rip. “Tell...me.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Sadie’s head lift and turn slightly their way. The better to hear and sort through his words for another reason to distrust him, no doubt. The day wasn’t going at all as he’d hoped. He held back a scowl and focused his attention on Manning.
“Henry Conklin bought a new mare. Turns out she’s a nervous one. On the way home from church, a fox ran in front of her and she spooked. Unfortunately, Henry had stayed home and Chloe and Enid were alone in the buggy. In all the jolting, Chloe lost the reins.”
“Runa...way?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my! Are they all right?” Rachel lowered her work and stared at him, her eyes now clear and focused. Sadie’s were narrowed and suspicious. He supposed he should be grateful she hadn’t fled the room at his appearing, as was her wont.
“They were a little shaken, but they’re fine. I spotted their careening buggy and was able to cut through the field and that copse of trees that borders the Gardner place to get ahead of them.”
“Bottom of...hill?”
He looked back at Manning and nodded. “You figured it right.”
Manning chuckled, his face creased into a smile. “Smart. Hill would...slow...horse.”
The approval felt good. He’d never managed to gain that from his father. “That and the brake. The women had forgotten it in the excitement, but Enid managed to pull it on when I yelled to them. It worked. I was able to drop back and get hold of the bridle.”
Manning’s smile turned to a frown. “Danger...ous.”
He couldn’t deny the charge. He glanced down at the angry red streaks crossing his fingers and palm, felt again the power of the mare’s thrusting head straining his arm and shoulder. “But necessary. If they’d gone into that sharp bend at the top of the hill at a run, they’d have overturned.”
“Still risky...hero...ic.”
He glanced toward Sadie, sure she would be irritated by that description. She was looking at his bruised hand. He folded his swollen fingers against his palm and moved his hand back out of her sight. “Hardly. I simply happened along at the right time and the right place. I never could have caught them if it weren’t for the hill.”
“Nonetheless, you saved them, Cole. And, from the looks of you, it was quite a task.” Rachel set her needlepoint aside, rose from the settee and bustled over to him. “Give me your coat. I’ll give it a good brushing and mend that tear for you.”
He glanced down at the three-cornered rip in his sleeve. “A branch must have caught it when I rode through the trees, but you don’t have to—”
“Do not argue with me, young man.” A mock scowl knit Rachel’s fine gray brows together. She held out her hand.
Warmth filled his chest. It had been four years since anyone had fussed over him. He slipped his arm out of a sleeve and wished he had the right to lean down and kiss her soft, wrinkled cheek.
“You’re busy with your needlepoint, Nanna, and I’m only entertaining myself reading. Why don’t I brush and mend the coat?”
His mouth didn’t exactly gape, but only because he caught himself in time. He froze with his coat half-off and shot a look at Sadie. She’d moved to the settee and was staring at Rachel’s needlepoint. He glanced down. There was a hodgepodge of large, red stitches scattered over the beautifully worked, unfinished piece. So that was it. She was protecting her grandmother. From what? His disapproval? Anger? She thought him so cruel that he would berate an ill woman?
He jerked his gaze up to Sadie’s face and his spurt of anger died. The sadness in her brown eyes tugged at his heart harder than Rachel was tugging on his arm. He looked down.
“Your coat.” She raised her arms, grasped the collar and slid it off his shoulder.
He couldn’t refuse her. He pulled his arm out of the sleeve. “You’re most kind, Mrs. Townsend. Thank you.”
“I’ll mend the coat, Nanna.” Sadie hurried over. He glanced at her taut face, wished she would look at him so he could let her know that it was all right, that he understood.
“Nonsense.” Rachel draped the coat over her arm and took hold of his hand, turned it palm up. “Come with me to the kitchen, Cole, your hand needs tending.” She glanced over her shoulder. “You come, too, Sadie. You can see to Cole’s hand while I brush his coat.”
Sadie’s face drained of color and panic flashed in her eyes. Did the thought of touching him do that to her? He clenched his jaw and gently withdrew his hand from Rachel’s grasp. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, Mrs. Townsend. I need to go home and get cleaned up. And Cloud had a hard run in this heat—I want to get him fed and turned out to pasture. I’ll get my coat when I return this evening.” He dipped his head in farewell and strode from the room.
* * *
The dishes were finished at last. Sadie looked at her puckered fingers and swallowed the lump in her throat. Twice Nanna had taken the dishes she’d washed and rinsed, dried them and put them right back in the dishpan. She hadn’t known how to stop her without hurting her feelings or confusing her more. If Poppa hadn’t called for help, they’d be doing dishes still. How did Gertrude manage? Why couldn’t she?
The helpless feeling in her chest swelled. What happened