He lowered his sandwich to his lap. “Sophie?”
“What?”
“The other day when the skunk had you cornered, why didn’t you tell me you were feeling puny?”
She swallowed her last bite of cake and looked at him in surprise. “You didn’t give me a chance.”
Of course he didn’t. He’d been livid. “I’m sorry.”
She hitched a shoulder. “I could’ve waited a little longer. Moved a little slower.”
“No.” He shook his head. “Your well-being comes first, no matter what.”
Remembering how he’d scolded her, he grimaced, regret tightening his stomach.
It was a pattern, he realized. Back when they were kids and she’d first insisted on tagging along with him and his brothers, he alone had seemed to mind her presence. Josh had treated her with the same teasing affection as he did their cousins, and Caleb, impressed with her adventurous spirit, had been thrilled to have her around. Not Nathan. More often than not, the two of them had been at odds. While he was cautious and tended to think before he acted, she was impetuous and spontaneous and didn’t always anticipate the consequences of her actions.
Which led to disagreements. And him lecturing her like an overbearing older brother.
She’s not a little girl anymore, O’Malley. She’s a mature young woman in charge of her own life and capable of making her own decisions. No doubt she doesn’t appreciate your know-it-all behavior.
Perhaps it was time to step back and give her some space. This friendship of theirs was morphing into something unrecognizable, with strange new facets he wasn’t quite comfortable with.
* * *
Sophie didn’t know what to say. Or think. Nathan was an intelligent man. Perceptive, too. A quality that served him well in dealing with his five female cousins. That he’d noticed her need just now—the shakes had set in with a vengeance right about the time she’d begun sorting her tools—and understood that her haste the other day had stemmed from the same issue didn’t surprise her.
Hasn’t he always watched out for you? Even when he was tempted to throttle you.
It was true. Nathan’s protective instincts were legendary. Not only had she heard the O’Malley girls complain about his overprotective ways, she herself had been on the receiving end of his lectures countless times—lengthy discourses about safety and the wisdom of taking proper precautions—and, she recalled with a shudder, his ire when he thought she’d acted recklessly. To give him credit, many times she had deserved his set-downs.
What she couldn’t figure out was why he was acting strangely today. There was a distracted air about him, a confounded light in his eyes that aroused her curiosity.
As she finished her sandwich, the salty ham and cheese between soft white bread chasing away her hunger pangs, he helped himself to the cake.
She dabbed her mouth with her napkin before broaching the subject that had been bothering her ever since she’d interrupted the conversation between him and her granddad last evening.
“What were you and Granddad talking about when I came into his room? The two of you looked awfully serious.”
Nathan’s bleak expression had troubled her long into the night.
Now he schooled his features into a careful blandness that scared her. If he was trying to avoid hurting her, then she was right to worry.
“Nothing special.” His fingers tightened on the jar balanced on his thigh. “I tried to tempt him with Ma’s cooking but he insisted he wasn’t hungry. He doesn’t seem to have much energy.”
An understatement. “Doc Owens has been tight-lipped, as usual, but I can tell by his manner that he’s concerned.”
“When is he supposed to come and check on him again?”
“In a couple of days, unless he gets worse and I need him before then....” Please, Lord, don’t let that be the case. “Are you sure that’s all you talked about? He didn’t say anything strange?”
Nathan lifted the jar to his mouth. “Like what?”
“Like asking you to marry me.”
He choked. Sputtered. “Marry you?” His brows shot to his hairline, and he jammed his thumb into his chest. “Me? And you?”
Humiliation burned in her cheeks. Shoving to her feet, she glared down at him with clenched fists. “Is the prospect of marrying me so distasteful, then? You think no man in this town would want me?”
“No! That’s not it!” He quickly stood, his eyes dark and searching. “You just shocked me is all. D-did Tobias suggest it to you?”
“No.”
The relief skittering across his face pierced her heart. Sent her confidence tumbling. Unable to look at him, she observed a ladybug clinging to a swaying stalk at her feet. “He did suggest I start thinking of settling down. That I need a man around to take care of me,” she scoffed. “Imagine!”
She’d been taking care of herself since she was eight. Why did Granddad think she needed help?
Weren’t you thinking the same thing just last night? an unwelcome voice reminded.
“He’s your grandfather. Of course he wants to see you settled and happy.” Nathan looked particularly unsettled, a line forming between his brows as he looked past her to the cabin.
“A husband can’t guarantee me that.” Her own mother’s misery was proof.
He shifted his gaze back to hers. “Tobias wants to make certain your future is taken care of.”
“You make it sound as if he’s not going to be around for it,” she accused.
“Sophie—” He moved to close the distance between them, but the sympathy wreathing his mouth sent her a step back, away from him.
“Don’t.” She held up a staying hand. She couldn’t handle his compassion right this moment, couldn’t bring herself to face what was happening to her grandfather. Not if she didn’t want the tears welling up to spill over. Losing control of her emotions in front of this man wasn’t something she was willing to do.
Will’s whistling saved her.
Nathan twisted around, silent as her brother approached with a proud smile, pail swinging from one hand and his pole in the other. “I caught four rainbow trout,” he told them, lifting the pail for them to inspect.
“Nice catch,” Nathan admitted, but his somber gaze was on Sophie.
“I’ll take those inside for you,” she quickly volunteered, taking the pail from his willing hand. Tilting her head to indicate the quilt spread out behind them, she said, “Nathan brought us lunch. Help yourself.”
Will’s eyes lit up. “Miss Mary’s the best cook around.” Setting his pole out of the way, he plopped down and began rifling through the basket.
Before Nathan could speak, she rushed ahead. “Thank you for everything today. I should go in and change. I have errands in town this afternoon.”
He nodded slowly. “I have chores waiting, too. I’ll keep Will company while he eats, then head out.”
“See you later, then?”
“Later.”
The promise in his deep baritone let her know not only would he be seeing her, but sooner or later they would finish this conversation.
* * *
The