The skeptical look in her mother’s eyes conveyed how much she doubted it.
By much urging and persistence, Addie got her to drink the entire cupful. Then she let her lay back. “I am going to wash you with cool water.”
“Leave me rest.”
“I will once I’m done.”
Shorty brought her a basin of water, and Addie did her best to cool Mother’s fevered brow. The water grew too warm to be of any use. Would the tea do its job?
Her arms hurt from clinging to the stagecoach rails for so long. She sat back, rubbing them and then moving her hand upward until her fingers rested on her jaw where Nash had touched her. With her eyes closed, she revisited that moment. The way he’d caressed her, the murmur of her name on his lips… Did it mean more than gratitude for her safety?
Did she want it to mean more?
Since she’d been taken in by the Stones, she’d followed them from one needy area to another. She’d often regretted leaving friends behind and wished she could stay, but she’d also welcomed the chance to move on, hoping to find something that would satisfy the longing in her heart. A longing she couldn’t even identify. She only knew it existed.
Being in Nash’s arms made her wonder if that place could be filled.
Shorty sighed as he moved toward the stove. “I expect people will be wanting to eat.”
She sprang to her feet and hurried to join him. “Do you have anything in mind?”
“I kind of favor beans and biscuits. It is my favorite meal.”
“I should have cooked beans. We’re using up your canned supplies.”
“It cannot be helped. But I will start beans baking now. They won’t be ready for supper, but if you are here tomorrow—” He shrugged.
Tomorrow? What would it bring? She was anxious to get Mother to town. But things would change once they left here. She’d be in Golden Valley helping the Stones. Nash would go to his ranch. The others would go their separate ways as well.
While Shorty opened cans and poured beans into a cooking pot, she mixed up biscuits, cutting the dough into squares as Nash had done. It certainly made sense.
She considered the cupboard’s contents. “I could bake a cake.”
Shorty stood beside her. “Can you make gingerbread cake?”
“I believe I can.”
“And show me? I cannot tell you how often I have longed for that flavor. You know, a man gets lonely by himself and begins to miss things he did not realize were important to him.”
“Maybe people as well as things?” she gently suggested.
“Could be. Could be.”
She pulled spices and baking soda from the cupboard. “You appear to have everything you need to make this.”
“Everything but the know-how.”
Mother had taught her how to bake without eggs, soshe measured out the other ingredients. “Do you want to write this down?”
“You tell me, and I will remember.”
She mixed up the batter, put it to bake, and then brought more tea to Mother who drank it with a little urging. “I do believe your fever is letting up.”
“I’m so very tired.” She curled on her side and closed her eyes.
Addie sat back, allowing herself a measure of relief. Now that Mother’s fever was breaking, she’d begin to get her strength back.
A little later, the beans bubbled, the biscuits were golden, and the spicy gingerbread aroma tinted the air. Everything was ready. But Nash and Hawk hadn’t returned. Seeing Shorty’s impatience, the way Mr. Zacharius looked at the food, and the protests building in Mr. Bertrand’s expression, she knew better than to suggest they wait for the pair.
