The girls thudded into the room, banging the buckets against the door frame as they tried to get through together.
Clara released his hand. He stepped back, barely able to pull his thoughts into some semblance of order. Clara grabbed the end of the tape measure, and they soon settled into the comfortable rhythm of the work.
But something had changed. There was a sense of understanding between them that he wondered at. How could two people, both intent on going their separate ways, share anything more than the work they did together?
He was at a loss to explain it except to acknowledge there was a sense of having walked the same path for a few hours.
He watched the girls playing their pretend game by the pile of wood. He’d grown to care for them.
He studied Clara bent over a piece of wood, deep in concentration as she ran the planer over it. He’d grown to care for her, too.
Caring cost.
Caring hurt.
But the reminders came a little too late.
* * *
Clara wondered if she’d said too much. Her words had come from a heart that almost burst with sorrow for him. He was so lost. Several times throughout the day, she stole glances at him when he wasn’t looking her way. He seemed thoughtful but not upset.
She could only hope and pray her words would help him move forward in his life.
Three times she sprang to the window when she heard a rider or a wagon in the street. Was it the stagecoach? But it never was. At the same time, it didn’t appear to be anyone looking for a woman and children. At least, she assumed so when the rider left the store with a bundle of supplies.
How long before Petey returned? “How long, oh, God, how long?”
Blue chuckled. “Are you complaining against God?”
She turned with a sheepish grin. “You weren’t supposed to hear me.”
“Then you shouldn’t say it out loud.” He trailed his finger over her chin.
Likely he meant it to be teasing, but his touch danced through her like pretty little butterflies alighting on every nerve ending.
Without conscious thought, she turned her face against his finger.
And then the touch ended, and he stood before her, his hands jammed into his pockets, his eyes dark as dusk.
Reaching inside to some secret store of strength, she smiled, hoping her lips did not tremble and give away her reaction. “I’ll try to remember in the future to keep my thoughts silent.”
“Don’t bother for my sake.” Was his voice husky, or was she only imagining it?
He turned suddenly and returned to the sawhorse, where he set to work. She likewise returned to her task.
That afternoon, they put together four more pews. The girls insisted they line them up as they would for a church service.
“It looks nice,” Eleanor said. “When are you going to have a real church here?”
Blue leaned back on his heels. “Well, let’s see. Once we’re through making the pews, these all have to be finished to preserve the wood. Then the walls at the back have to be done. And I suppose we need a pulpit. Oh, wait.” He seemed rather surprised at whatever he’d thought. “I suppose we need a preacher, too.”
Libby looked him up and down with a great deal of interest.
Clara held her breath, wondering what the child had in her head.
“Why couldn’t you be the preacher?” Libby asked him. “You’re a nice man, and you saved my life.”
He stared at her; then he blinked and opened his mouth, but merely shut it again. “Libby, that’s a very kind thought, but it takes more than that to be a preacher.”
“What?”
“Well, I suppose you have to go to school and learn lots about the Bible. You have to have lots and lots of faith in God, and it has to be your job.”
“Oh.” Libby’s shoulders sagged.
Eleanor stood before Blue and commanded his attention. “I wish you could be the preacher. Then I’d want to go to church every day.”
Clara felt sorry for him. Her girls could be very direct and very opinionated. And, no, despite Blue’s insinuations, they didn’t take after their mother. More like their grandfather. She only hoped and prayed she could direct their strong beliefs into a more charitable attitude than her father’s went. Most of all, she would teach them to believe in their strength.