“Actually, I believe we've overstayed our most kind welcome, and I feel Charlie and I should get on with our plans.” She turned to Noah. “Could we ride with you into town on your way to fetch the doctor?”
A twin blend of disappointment and relief flooded through him. Getting her away from George, especially with the sudden shift in his behavior, was a good idea, but despite all inner warnings, he wanted to know her better. Understand the fire in those eyes, the confidence that spurred her to a new life, to a different future.
He wanted to know more about the strength that sent her fleeing the man who used his power to his advantage over her. Kizzie McAdams was no wallflower.
His Elinor had been a gentle, quiet soul, weaving in and out of his world like a whisper. Dying in the same quiet way. But Kizzie bloomed with a passion and resilience, capturing his attention as much with her confidence as her beauty.
His heart twinged again, as if working through emotions to find the right one, but his head knew the best course of action. Get her away from George.
“Of course. I'd be happy to,” he heard himself say. Yes. Good choice. Best one.
Safer for everyone.
“The doctor?” George spun to face Noah, his attention shifting to Mother and back. “Why do we need the doctor?”
“For Martin,” Mother answered as Noah stepped toward Kizzie. “He was seriously injured in the carriage accident, and his leg requires a set.”
“I'll let Taylor know of your plans.” Noah lowered his voice. “He'll have your things loaded into the sleigh, and we can leave as soon as you're ready.”
She searched his face with those large, curious eyes. Charlie's head wobbled as he turned to look Noah's way too. Same eyes. “Thank you. I reckon we can be ready in half an hour.”
“And perhaps it would be good for you to return to your house, George,” Mother added, gesturing toward the door. “I'm sure you have things to work on there in preparation for your wedding?”
George stepped back, his smile tight. “Excellent idea. And I'll go by way of the mill to have my own little investigation about the fire yesterday.” His attention swept over Kizzie. “I look forward to our next meeting, Mrs. McAdams.” With another glare in Noah's direction, he crammed his hat on his head and marched from the room.
“I'm sorry you had to witness such a spectacle, Kizzie.” Mother placed her palm on Kizzie's arm, her attention resting on Charlie. “What a horrible way to wake up from a kip.”
“It ain't the first time he's been startled awake by a loud noise.” Kizzie sighed as she gave Charlie a little bounce. “By some folks with the same thinking as your son.” Kizzie raised a brow and looked at Noah. “Not that son. I can already tell he's the good sort.”
The compliment caught him off guard. “At least fumbling toward good, I hope.”
She offered him the smile he'd seen a few times before, the one he felt all the way through him. The feeling in his heart grew, like someone opened a window inside his chest and flooded its shadowed recesses with light.
And he couldn't look away. Didn't really want to.
What was happening? Surely it was just a response to her wit, her vibrance. But no. The ache pooled deeper, soul deep, reaching beyond the shattered pieces of his grief toward the surface. Her honest faith interrupted his world, his planned path. His heart wanted whatever hope and strength she held within those eyes. Wanted … her?
His brain paused on the thought.Her?
A single mother with a child barely two months old? A woman running from a past he didn't fully comprehend? After all these months, why did his heart suddenly respond to Kizzie McAdams?
His gaze fell to Charlie, the baby offering a smile as if he somehow recognized Noah's internal bewilderment.
“Ain't we all fumbling, some days finding our feet a little better than others, but all holding on to hope that God is making each step stronger and better than the one before?” Her gaze held his, some deeper understanding passing between them. “I sure hope so, because I don't want to go back to where I was.”
Words failed him. His mind still struggled with the very real awareness of wanting to win her. At the mental admission, his pulse took off on a race, like a windup toy set free.
He was completely crazy!
“You really don't have to leave,” his mother urged, drawing Kizzie's attention away and releasing him from whatever hold she had. “We'd be happy to have you stay with us another night.”
Which sent him back to seeing her in her robe, hair long and wild. His throat tightened at the memory.Beautiful.
He was completely useless at the moment.
“That's kind of you, but if I'm going to start over in this new life of mine, I better go ahead and begin. Besides, once Mr. Lewis figures out I'm not a ‘Mrs.,’ he may not be too pleased I stayed here at all.”
Noah drew in a breath and stepped back, Kizzie's words sending an unintended reminder of his precarious place in the family and his brother's unpredictable behavior. The interest on George's face for Kizzie had little to do with her marital status. How the man could portray an upright life for the small social circles of The Hollows and live in complete opposition in private kept the two of them at odds, especially when it came to the young women at the mill.
