“I could borrow yours.”
Clara laughed despite herself. “Not this time.” Blue’s coat was wet. What would he wear? Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea. But Eleanor was already gone.
Maybe he would refuse.
Why was she having second thoughts? She stiffened her backbone. She wasn’t. The man was lonely, lost in a desert, and she owed it to him to help him find his way out.
Eleanor returned as Libby and Clara were setting the table.
She was alone, and Clara could not deny her disappointment. “Isn’t he coming?”
“He said he’d be along in a minute. Said he had to take care of his horse.”
“Did he seem glad of the invitation?”
Eleanor shrugged. “Of course he was.”
Clara didn’t know if Blue had expressed pleasure or Eleanor had assumed it. She decided not to pursue the discussion.
They moved the trunk closer to the table for the girls to sit on so Clara and Blue could sit on the two chairs.
Clara looked about. All her washing had dried and was put away. All that still hung were Libby’s wet things.
Clara’s heart missed a beat. She could have lost her daughter. She owed Blue a huge debt. She had to repay him before Petey returned with the stagecoach.
A knock sounded at the door. “It’s Blue,” he called.
The girls rushed to let him in.
He stood at the door, twisting his hat in his hands. “Eleanor said I should come.”
“I wanted to show my gratitude.” She indicated the table with the food set out.
“That’s not necessary.”
The girls dragged him forward and held the chair for him.
He sat down but looked ready to flee at any moment.
“Blue, relax—we aren’t going to bite.”
The girls giggled.
He nodded, but his gaze went to the door.
She sat on her chair and the girls perched on the trunk. Then she realized someone would have to say grace. She glanced at the girls. They looked at Blue as if expecting him to do the honors.
She hoped he wouldn’t disappoint them. “Blue, would you ask the blessing?”
His gaze darted from the door to her face, then to the girls. He dropped his hat to the floor beside his chair, scrubbed his palms along his thighs and nodded.
“Thank you, God, for food and friends. Amen.”
The girls looked ready to giggle at his short prayer, but Clara quelled them with a look. “Now let’s eat.” She pushed the pot of stew toward Blue, and he ladled out two scoops. Then she assisted the girls with their food. Everyone began to eat. Except Blue, who stared at his plate.
Clara put her fork down. “Blue, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” He picked up his fork.
“Maybe he doesn’t like eating with us,” Libby said.
Clara waited for him to answer.
“Of course I like eating with you. I’m especially happy to see that Libby’s appetite hasn’t been affected by her fall in the river. And it’s good to see Eleanor’s excellent table manners. Yours, too, Libby.”
The girls beamed at his praise.
There was so much Clara wanted to say to him, but now, with the girls listening to every word, was not the time or place.
“Mama taught us good table manners,” Eleanor said.
“But Grandfather said we had to eat in the kitchen.” Libby sighed. “He said children should be seen and not heard.”
“I’m sure Mr. Blue doesn’t want to hear about Grandfather.” Clara hoped they wouldn’t say any more.
Eleanor turned her fork over and over. “He said little girls were useless. Education shouldn’t be wasted on them.”
Clara forced herself to swallow the food in her mouth. She met Blue’s questioning gaze boldly, not wanting him to guess at any more details about her father.
His eyes darkened, and then he turned to the girls. “I’ve always thought little girls were very useful. You help at the church. You help your mother. Why, I think you could do most anything you set your minds to. Just like your mama.”
The girls glowed under his praise, and so did she. Whether or not he believed it, it felt good to hear the words. “Thank you,” she murmured.
“Except make the waters part,” Libby said, her voice full of disgust.