He pushed his reluctant body upright. “I’ll be back later.”
If his gaze rested longer on Addie than on anyone else…well, it did.
And if he read regret in her eyes…well, he’d believe he did.
Nine
Addie stared at her empty bowl. Of course, Nash needed to help Hawk.
“The sooner they fix whatever is the matter, the sooner we can resume travel.” Mr. Bertrand pointed out the unnecessary.
Addie knew it as well as any of them. Still, the room held hollow places with Nash gone. He’d be back. But she found no comfort in the words.
A weary sigh breathed past her lips as she gathered up the dishes and carried them to the basin. She washed every item carefully. No one offered to dry them for her. Not that she needed help or even wanted it. All too soon, every dish had been washed and dried. The towel hung by the stove, folded precisely.
How could she pass the day? She faced the room. Shorty rocked back and forth on his feet as he looked out the window. “I should be out there.”
“Your leg isn’t up to it,” she pointed out.
“I know.”
Was he worried about his injuries or anxious to have his place to himself again?
Mother called out. Addie gave her water before she fell asleep again. Surely, she had improved.
Addie could listen to Mr. Bertrand complain, Mr. Zacharius wheeze and cough while Shorty sighed and shuffled at the window, or she could return to her book. She sat on the floor and opened the pages. But the story that had intrigued her yesterday no longer did. The spot beside her where Nash had sat as he read held nothing but cold air. Somehow, that made it impossible to concentrate.
How silly! Her whole world didn’t depend on him.
She forced her attention to the words and doggedly read.
Later, she glanced up at the clock. Only twenty minutes had passed. It was going to be a very long day.
Page after page, she read. She got up several times to offer Mother water.
“Where are we?” Mother asked. Finally, she wakened enough to put a sensible sentence together.
“Our stagecoach got stuck. Remember?” Addie brushed her hand over Mother’s forehead. Either she was still fevered, or the room was too warm though no one complained.
“Vaguely. How long have we been here?”
“This is our third day. But the rain has stopped, and there are men checking to see when we can move on.”
Mother sipped water. She closed her eyes. “I’m very tired.”
“You rest.” Addie sat back. Mother had occasionally given into exhaustion in the past and stayed abed until she felt better. But not this long. Of course, she hadn’t been able to rest while they traveled.
The ticking clock reminded Addie that the morning had passed, and no one else had offered to make dinner. That task fell to her.
She opened the cupboards.
Shorty joined her. “I know everyone expects to eat.” He sounded like hunger was unacceptable.
This drew Addie’s lips upward. “I can make potato soup.”
“That sounds like a fine idea.” His eyes brightened.
“How did you learn to cook?” She chopped an onion and put it to brown as she peeled potatoes.
