The sting of tears rose into her eyes.Not now.Why did every nice thing this man did make her want to cry? These were happy tears. Mostly. She just wanted to crawl into his arms and let him hold her.
But that was not a good desire. She needed to be strong.
He must have seen the shift in her expression, for he released her hand. "Let me get up, and I'll make sure the cabin is safe to enter. We need to get you two out of the cold."
As Aaron worked up to standing, she attempted the feat herself. Sarah's wiggling had turned to fussing. She would need to eat again soon, and they had much to do before Katie could focus on her.
No matter how rough this cabin was inside, at least they'd found shelter. A safe place to hide away from the storm.
Maybe Aaron had prayed for this too, and God had listened. She glanced upward at the thick gray sky.Thank You. If You’re up there, thank You for bringing me Aaron. This man made her feel for the first time in years, like God might actually see her.
* * *
As Aaron pulled from sleep, the calm around him registered even before the crackling of the fire.
No wind.
He forced his mind out of the haze and his eyelids open. Daylight was dimmer than usual. Still early morning?
But a sweep around the room brought everything back. The cabin.
He craned his neck to look for Katie. They'd spread their blankets in front of the little stone hearth at one end of the small building. As soon as he'd made sure Katie, Sarah, and the mules had all they needed—including a blazing fire and plenty of wood to add to it—he'd succumbed to his exhaustion. Only once had he awakened in the night. Katie must have been adding wood all along, for the blaze had been burning bright.
Her blankets lay empty, though mussed.
He sat upright, holding in a groan as his bruises from the fall protested. A movement in the shadows on the other side of the hearth caught his focus. When his eyes finally found her, Katie's sweet smile pulled him fully awake. She sat against the wall, a blanket draped across the front of her. That must mean she was nursing Sarah.
The dog sat on her far side, stretched out against her leg. Ever since Sarah’s birth, he often planted himself close, as though the babe’s presence soothed him. A feeling Aaron could relate to.
"Did you sleep well?" Katie’s voice held such a peaceful cadence, settling through him like a warm drink on a cold day.
"Like a dead man." His voice rumbled with a thick sleep rasp, so he cleared his throat as he glanced toward the closed door. The place had no windows, but enough of the chinking had fallen from between the logs that daylight peeked through.
He turned back to Katie. "Have you been outside yet?"
She shook her head. "Not since last night. I was asleep until just now when Sarah woke up hungry." She nodded toward the fire. "I made coffee. I wasn't sure if you'd want coffee or tea, but I thought this would help if you're still tired."
He eyed the kettle. "Sounds like just the thing." He stood and used the wall to catch his balance until his weak leg felt secure, then he poured a cup and held it out to Katie.
She shook her head. "Thank you, but not yet. When Sarah's finished, do you think you might"—she rolled her lips between her teeth—"hold her a minute while I go outside."
Heat flushed up his neck, and he pulled the cup back to himself. "Of course. I haven't seen her in nearly a day."
To give Katie some privacy, he ambled toward the door and peeked outside. He needed to check on Cain and Abel, but that could wait until she’d finished with her personal affairs. He’d left the mules under a thick stand of trees where they would be mostly sheltered from the snow, but now he should move them to water. They might not be able to find grazing with the ground covered so thickly, but maybe there would be a place shallow enough they could dig down to grass.
The door stuck when he first tried to push, but more pressure helped it break loose, and he forced the wood open the rest of the way. The snow came up at least mid-thigh—just about to the spot where a metal plate held his leg bone together.
He swallowed down a knot of worry. How would he ever get the wagon through this mess? Being the first snow of the year, it was light and fluffy, hard for the mules to plow through and not easy for the wagon to maneuver the slopes with chains on the wheels.
A glance upward showed a gray sky. Not the low thick clouds that portended more snow—thank you, Lord, for that—but no sunshine and warm temperatures to melt this sea of white either.
This would be a great time for a warm Chinook wind, Father.
They would need to stay in this cabin today at least. After he settled the mules, he could walk to the next slope and see how the road looked. Maybe tomorrow after the snow melted a little and re-froze, the road would be fit for travel. He couldn't risk Katie and Sarah’s safety.
Yet he also had to get this load to Settler’s Fort. For that matter, he had to get Katie and Sarah to Settler’s Fort. They needed a warm house and Doc Micah's attention. And now that the first snow had fallen, who knew when the next would come and how deep it would pile. He had to get them to better shelter before they risked being snowed in here all winter.
Rustling sounded from behind him, and he glanced back as Katie stood and pulled the blanket off her shoulder. He closed the door, scraping it across the snow again, then turned and moved back to the fire.
