His abrupt change of tone, now rough and bordering on rude, took Hannah by surprise. Confused, she ventured softly, “The oldest brother?”
“I am.” The man rubbed a hand over his face. “Sorry.” Dark smudges beneath his eyes painted a picture of exhaustion. “It’s been a long few days.”
“It’s all right.”
Nate acknowledged her words with a shake of his head and a brief smile. An awkward silence fell between them then. Hannah, a quiet, somewhat shy, woman often felt uncomfortable in social situations. Circumstances had led to her having few friends as she grew up and, following Jemma’s birth, her world narrowed even further. Until Alice came, Bessie and her husband, Jed, had been her only friends for a long time.
Words flitted through her mind, considered then dismissed unspoken. Her gaze flickered from him to the yard beyond, then back again repeatedly, praying to see the older woman returning with the children each time. Unfortunately, aside from the man with her, the chickens were the only creatures in sight.
After another endless moment, Hannah stopped trying to come up with something smart and engaging to tell him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s all right, Miss Brooks.” Though his smile had faded, his tone, low, rich, and warm repeated the phrase she’d offered him with quiet sincerity.
“Please call me Hannah.”
“Hannah.”
His voice held a note she couldn’t define but it sparked a response nonetheless. Fire spread over her cheeks again. Silence returned. Hannah shifted her weight from one foot to the other, uncertain of what to do next. With Jed in his current state she might as well be alone and was reluctant to invite anyone into the house.
After several seconds, he prompted, “Would you let Alice know I’m here?”
“I will, as soon as she returns.”
“Where is she?”
“She took the kids fishing.”
“Fishing?”
His obvious puzzlement was understandable. It wasn’t a common activity this time of year but the children needed a break from the oppressive atmosphere at home. Jed had worsened. This week even the hours spent away at school didn’t seem to ease his sons much. Even Jemma, once a sunny child, had been too quiet lately.
“Odd, I know, but the boys were restless. They’re probably pitching rocks into the water instead of casting out line.”
“Wasn’t she expecting me?”
“We didn’t think Sam, well, you, would be here before noon.”
“Sorry.”
“No need. I’m sorry she isn’t here.”
Nate studied her from the other side of the steps, not attempting to move closer. “Should I come back later?”
“No,” Hannah answered, sounding almost breathless. She cleared her throat before continuing in a stronger voice. “You don’t have to leave. It’s just…”
“I’m troubling you.”
“No I… It’s not you.”
“Did Jed go?”
Do something fun with the boys? Hannah stuffed her chilled hands into the pockets of her coat. “No, he did not.”
“He’s home?”
“Yes, he is.” When is he not?
“Would you tell him I’m here?”
“I’d rather not.” With effort, Hannah kept her tone even, masking exasperation. They’d had an exceptionally bad morning with Jed.
“Why?”
“I don’t think it’d be a good idea.”
“He’s… poorly?”
Hannah drew in a deep breath. Something about the way he responded told her Nate knew, or at least suspected, Jed’s affliction. Still, she believed it was best not to say much.
“He’s… having a bad day. When Alice gets back, I’m sure she’ll explain.”
Instead of pressing her further, Nate simply nodded. The only sign of his displeasure was in the slight downturn of his lips, a suggestion of a frown. She almost sagged in relief. Even with Alice, his mother, the changes in her friend’s husband were difficult to discuss. The light-hearted man Jed had been before Bessie’s death existed only in their memories now.
“Would you like to sit while we wait?” Hannah gestured to the pair of rockers on the sagging porch.
As soon as the words left her mouth, Hannah started feeling self-conscious. She looked down at the ground by her feet. Few people shared her enthusiasm to be outside when nature decided to be rowdy. Slowly, she brought her gaze up to meet his.
“Thank you.” His tone reflected a sincere appreciation for her offer. “But I need to take care of my horse.” He waved his hand in the direction of his mount. “Is there room for him?”
“Room?” He thinks the farm is still functioning. The words to explain stuck in her throat. Without talking about Jed, it’d be impossible. “Yes, there is.”
“Would you mind showing us?”
“Us?” Startled, Hannah glanced around, looking for his companion.
Nate nodded toward his horse. “Jack and I.”
“Jack?” In all the years Hannah had known Bessie, she’d heard several strange names given to horses but they usually bordered on fanciful. “You named your horse Jack?”
“Yes.” Nate headed toward the young, reddish-brown horse. “It suits him.”
“I’m sure it does,” she affirmed, more to herself than him.
The wind carried the clean scent of recent rain to her as she waited, reminding Hannah a storm threatened. Why hasn’t she brought the kids home? She turned, looking at the spot where they’d most likely emerge from the tree line along the south field. There was no sign of them. Despite having complete trust in the other woman, worry nagged at her.
“Hannah?”
His voice, soft and deep, drew her attention. “Yes?”
“You all right?”
For a second or two, she thought about sharing her concern, then dismissed the impulse. “I’m fine, but would you excuse me? I’d like to put the sheets inside first.”
“Of course.”
Hannah darted up onto the porch, where she picked up the basket before slipping into the house. She moved quietly inside, tiptoeing across the main room to put the laundry down near the table. Her mission complete, she turned, heading toward the door, then halted midway. This was still Jed’s house. By rights, she should inform him of visitors. After taking in a deep breath to steady her nerves, she changed direction and headed to his room.
In front of the closed door, she stopped, hesitated a few seconds, then knocked. There was no response but Hannah hadn’t really expected one. She turned the knob and opened the door some inches.
“Nate Rolfe is here,” she announced softly, yet loud enough to carry to the occupant.
Hannah waited several seconds, then took Jed’s silence as an answer itself. She bit her lip hard, preventing the release of a heavy sigh of disappointment. Wordlessly, she pulled the door shut, leaving the man alone in the shadow-filled room again.
Her strides were swift as she crossed the room, blinking back tears. By the time Hannah reached the front door, she’d recovered