Mr. Bertrand complained about beans and biscuits again, though he took a generous amount of both. And helped himself to two large pieces of the ginger cake. He didn’t offer any praise, but Mr. Zacharius thanked Shorty and Addie for the good meal.
Shorty studied his fork holding a piece of the cake. “I might make this every week now that I know how. It satisfies my longing for ginger cake.” He lowered his fork and stared at the tabletop. “However, it does not satisfy anything else.” He ate the last of his cake.
As they had the night before after they’d eaten, she carried the dishes to the cupboard, and Shorty joined her. He plunged the dishes into hot water, and then handed her the washed dish.
“Shorty.” She spoke slowly, not wanting to offend the man. “I get the feeling you have someone you long to see.”
“I maybe do.”
Neither of them said anything further. They’d finished cleaning the kitchen when boots thudded on the step outside. The door swung open, and Hawk entered.
She glanced past him, waiting for Nash.
But he didn’t appear.
Her heart grabbed her ribs making it impossible for her to breathe.
Nash turnedthe horse loose in the corrals and hung the rope back on its hook. Hawk had made sure feed and water were available for the animals. The horses whinnied and tossed their heads.
“I know,” Nash soothed. “You’re anxious to be on your way. So is everyone else.” Though the sense of urgency he began the trip with had faded. Yes, he wanted to be there when his horses arrived. He couldn’t be certain what the men delivering them would do when he wasn’t. They could turn them loose in the corrals if they weren’t willing to wait. Whatever they chose to do, he would deal with it when he got back to the ranch. Now, he sought excuses to stay in Golden Valley and spend time with a certain young woman. Remembering how she’d mentioned waterfalls, he thought of a couple he’d like to show her. There were also two within hiking distance of his ranch. He’d really like to take her there.
After closing the gate behind him, he trotted after Hawk and burst into the house.
Addie’s wide, surprised gaze met his. She drew in a tiny gasp.
He smiled, letting her know how glad he was to see her.
Her lips curved upward. “There’s food.” The smile lingered as she loaded up two plates. It remained when she put the plates on the table. Her look lingered on him, and her smile reached upward to her eyes and curved her face.
She was glad to see him. He tucked the knowledge into the depths of his heart where he would cherish it for the rest of his life.
Shorty placed a serving of cake before him. Ahh. Ginger. The aroma had tugged at his senses and tried to get his attention.
“Well,” Mr. Bertrand huffed. “I expect you have the road cleared and the stagecoach ready to move on. It’s about time.”
Nash let Hawk answer. After all, it was his responsibility. And Nash had more interest in enjoying the cake and the smiling presence of the gal beside him.
“We managed to get the coach back on the trail. Took some doing. But we have a little more work to do before we can depart.”
“I thought you said help was coming.” Mr. Bertrand’s tone suggested the failure hung on Hawk’s shoulders. Both he and Nash were concerned that no one had come. The very absence hinted something was wrong further down the trail.
He’d suggested they should check, but Hawk assured him the road was open to the next way station. “We can get that far.”
Nash understood what he didn’t say: That it fell on Hawk’s shoulders to deliver passengers and goods. Delays were frowned upon.
Their plates scraped clean, Addie reached for them.
“I’ll do it.” Shorty carried the dishes to the cupboard and washed them.
Nash cleared his throat. “Addie, I have something to show you.” He held out his hand to assist her.
“Yes?”
“It’s outside.”
Something he took for eagerness raced through her eyes before she lowered her head. “Fine.”
Impatient to be alone with her, he stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind them. They stood side by side, her hand in his, his arm pressed to her shoulder. Cool air carried the fragrance of pine trees.
