He wore a broken-in, gray felt Stetson today, reminding her that the small flat-brim on her head would serve only as decoration in the strong Texas sun.
He stepped up onto the walk before catching sight of her. “Hello.”
The pleasant surprise in his voice caused a new set of flutters in her stomach.
“Hello.” She twisted the satin strings of her reticule around her fingers. “I’m ready.”
“You look real nice.” His gaze skimmed over her before coming back to her face. Wide shoulders blocked the sun, threw a long shadow across the planks. “We’ll walk if that’s all right. Cora lives just at the end of town.”
“Yes, I’d like that.” In truth, Susannah had walked a bit already today and her ankles were starting to swell, but she preferred walking to riding in something that might force her to sit too close to Riley.
Heading west, the direction Riley lived, they made their way down the wooden walk past the post office and the Pearl Restaurant.
“What have you been doing with yourself?”
“Did you think I might have left?” she asked coolly.
“I figured you stayed. Just to show me.” He grinned, taking any sting out of his words.
Released from school moments ago, children darted past them, skipped into the street to dodge horses and a lumbering wagon driven by an old man.
Riley waved as they passed his brother’s office, and Susannah glanced at the window to see Davis Lee lift a hand. She waved, too. Her skirts swished softly against the planked wood.
“Thought you might’ve missed me the past few mornings.” Riley gave her a teasing smile. “You doing all right today?”
“Yes, thank you.” She didn’t like him asking after her all the time. It made her think he cared, made her wish.
“Do you need anything?”
“No, thank you.” She’d had no luck finding a job and was growing concerned, but she wouldn’t tell Riley that. As they stepped off the walk and into the street, she slid a look at him. “What have you told Cora about me?”
“That you need a place to live.”
“Nothing about … my condition?”
“No. That’s for you to tell her.”
Grateful, she studied him for a moment. “Are you sure it’s all right to call on her? Her husband has only been gone three days. At home, mourners don’t receive visitors for at least a month.”
“Well, things are different here.”
“Yes, so you’ve said.” His reminders were starting to fray her nerves. “I assume you still observe some niceties.”
“Some.”
He sounded amused, which caused her jaw to set. “I thought you said Cora lived at the end of town?” The clang of metal on metal sounded sharply as they reached the blacksmith’s barn.
“She does. Well, outside of town a bit.” He guided Susannah to the left and they walked past Ef Gerard’s smithy. Riley pointed. “See the stage stand?”
Susannah followed his gaze down a gentle slope to a small house behind the shed-size building that served as the stagecoach stop. She hadn’t noticed the house when she’d arrived in Whirlwind, but then she’d been more than preoccupied with the thought of marrying Riley. “Oh, I see.”
A few minutes’ walk brought them close enough for Susannah to see the house was made of rough, unfinished wood. The well-kept home had a certain charm for all its sturdy practicality.
Riley pointed to the side of the house where a wall protruded. “Ollie built on an extra room there. I thought it would be nice for you. It’s not large, but it’s private.”
Touched at his thoughtfulness, Susannah reminded herself that he was looking after her out of a sense of obligation to Adam. And that was fine. Soon she’d be able to take care of herself.
She lifted her skirts to climb the two rough-hewn porch steps. Riley swiped his hat from his head and knocked. She barely had time to smooth her hair before the door was opened by a slender woman.
At least six inches taller than Susannah’s five foot three, the woman smiled, though it didn’t reach her hazel eyes. “Good afternoon, Cora.”
“Hello, Riley.” Patting her neat brown hair, Cora turned to Susannah. “You must be Mrs. Phelps.”
“Yes.” Susannah shook Cora’s hand, marveling at the strength in her long fingers.
She stood straight and tall, putting Susannah in mind of her posture lessons from Miss Wentworth. The sun picked up an occasional gray thread in Cora’s sleek bun. Her slightly lined face bespoke someone who usually met life’s challenges with a smile.
Susannah’s heart tightened at the woman’s recent loss. “I appreciate your seeing me.”
“I welcome the company. Gettin’ a little sick of my own.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your husband. If this isn’t a good time, we can come back later.”
“No, no, come on in. Now is fine.”
Riley put a hand to the small of Susannah’s back, sending a burst of warmth through her as he guided her into the house. She stepped away once they were inside.
“Let me show you the place.” Cora closed the door behind them. “It’s not much.”
A colorful rag rug warmed the rough pine floor in front of a dormant fireplace where a kettle hung. Savory scents of meat and bread lingered in the air. “This is the kitchen and back there is our bedroom. We have a room built onto the side. Ollie did it so we’d have an extra if we ever needed one.” Her voice drifted off.
Susannah caught a flash of pain in the other woman’s eyes.
“Sometimes stage passengers rent the room,” Riley explained.
Sunlight streamed through plate glass windows on either side of the front door and two windows along the wall to her left, giving the small space ample light. Oil cloth tacked above each window could be let down for privacy.
A deep sink, complete with pump handle, stood against the far wall next to the center fireplace. From what Susannah could tell, this front room served as a gathering place for visitors and meals. She speculated that the door behind Cora led to a bedroom. On the wall to her right was a doorway covered with a long, blue calico curtain.
Cora walked over and pushed aside the fabric. “Ollie was always thinking ahead.”
“It’s a nice room,” Riley stated.
“It’s private.” The older woman patted the door frame. “If you’d like, Susannah, I can probably talk Riley into putting on a real door.”
“I’m sure this will be fine.” She moved over to stand next to Cora and look into the room that would be hers. “I don’t want to be any trouble.”
Across from her, a narrow bed stretched against the long wall. Within arm’s reach to her right, a wide washstand with two drawers held a pitcher and basin on top. A window near the foot of the bed drew Susannah. She walked over to stare out at the prairie grass. The throaty cluck of chickens sounded from behind the house. She turned, spying a wooden-framed mirror over the washstand. The three hooks on the wall beside the mirror weren’t nearly enough to hold her clothes, but she would make do.
“It’s