It took her a moment to realize the stage had stopped moving, and the occupants had begun to shuffle about.

“We’re here,” Nate said.

Louise didn’t have the heart to look out the window and see where “here” was. Was it too much to hope for a place like Phil’s? She could never have imagined it possible to miss someone she had known for less than two days.

Nate stepped down with Chloe cradled safely in one arm, and helped Louise down with the other hand as naturally and competently as if he’d been doing it for years.

She thanked him, then gave him a long, hard stare.

“What?” he asked.

“I was thinking how natural you are with all this—the baby, helping me down and all. You’re sure you haven’t done this before?”

To her amazement, his cheeks turned a ruddy color. “I’m just a good observer.”

“Of course.” Why would it make him uncomfortable to confess so? Unless he’d watched other men with their wives and babies, and wished he could enjoy the same. Was it possible?

Or was she putting her own wishes on his shoulders?

She’d had a husband, but not an attentive one. She’d had a home, but it had never been hers. It belonged to Gordie and he never let her forget it. Not that she minded. To her, it was the Porter home and reminded her of better times.

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Now it was too late for such dreams and wishes. Dreams were for the young and innocent, not for widows and mamas raising a child on their own.

* * *

Nate felt the heat creep up his neck and pool in his cheeks. He was blushing like a schoolgirl. Louise must think him strange, especially when she’d asked a perfectly innocent question. But one that sneaked right past his defenses. He had tried for years to deny that he had once thought Louise might care for him in a special way. After he’d left, he hoped she’d follow, or contact him to come and get her. During that time, he used to watch young men with their girls or husbands with their wives and think what it would be like to be able to help Louise from a wagon. Or hold a door for her. Or feel a baby sleeping in his arms.

Her marriage to Gordie had made those silly thoughts wrong and he’d put an end to them. Until now. It seemed as if everything he’d once hoped for was his. Except it wasn’t. It was only pretend. And as she was so fond of reminding him, they would forget the past and follow a new path into the future.

But for now, he was living his dream...taking care of Louise and little Chloe.

He led Louise toward the stopping house, Chloe still in his arms. The baby was content, so Nate did not hand her back to Louise.

The stopping house wasn’t much from the outside, but he was pleasantly surprised when they stepped inside a warm, clean room with a delicious smell coming from the pot on the stove.

“Thank You, God,” he murmured.

“Amen to that,” Louise said.

Their host was out helping Dutch, so they didn’t meet him until he, Dutch and Sam tromped inside, stomping snow and straw from their boots.

“Folks, this here is Oxley. He’s a fine host.”

Oxley was tall and lean as a whip with trimmed brown hair, though it looked as if the man cut his own hair without consulting a mirror. He had dark brown eyes that were warm and welcoming, and he was clean shaven except for a handlebar moustache that quivered as he smiled. “Welcome, make yourselves at home.” His voice rumbled as though it came from a spot far below his feet.

Everything about the man made Nate relax. Here he knew Louise and the baby were not in danger of food poisoning, vermin or some kind of dreadful disease.

They gathered around the table as Oxley served up thick, delicious stew. When the meal was over, Miss Rolfe and Missy offered to wash the dishes. At first, Oxley refused.

“You all paid for the meal. That means you don’t have to clean up. That’s my job.”

Miss Rolfe ignored his protest. “It’s our way of showing our gratitude for a good meal.”

Louise tried to join the other women, but they waved her aside.

“Rest while you can,” Missy said.

Archie nodded agreement. “My wife always said a new mother should sleep whenever she could. Of course, if she has half a dozen little ones that meant never.”




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