Women giggling.
He turned to look, but the door was still closed. What were they talking about in there? Did Lillian like being around females again? He couldn't tell if she was one of those laughing or not. Had heeverheard her laugh? Not in several years.
His chest squeezed, and he forced himself to turn back to the table. Miles was staring at the closed door too, a look of curious awe on his face. The boy needed to guard himself. He was far too young for the likes of these. Too young to be thinking about women at all.
Jericho lifted his end of the table, and Miles snapped to attention. As they shifted the heavy piece of furniture, Jericho had to strain more than he'd expected. "Dat build this for Mum." It was hard to carry and speak at the same time, but Miles might not remember the details. And it was important he know them. "It was the first thing he made after the cabin was finished."
They set the table down, then went back for the chairs. Did Miles remember all the hard work they'd put into the homestead in those early years? He'd only been six when they first came to the haven of this land. Hopefully too young to remember the bloody chaos they'd left in Kansas.
A movement to the side caught his eye. The bed chamber door opened, and Dinah stepped through the doorway. Something was different about her, something that drew his glance in for a longer gaze.
She wore a different dress, for one. A pretty blue color that curved more than the brown she'd worn before. And her hair… Instead of the braid, she had it pinned up with loose curls falling around her face. Both the dress and the curls brought out the clear blue of her eyes.
He swallowed, trying to rein in his gaze. His mind and body, too, if he could manage it.
"You sure do look pretty, ma'am." Miles’s voice broke the haze around Jericho's mind.
Miss Wyatt turned a pretty smile on him. "Thank you." Then her gaze swept over their work. "You're moving the table?"
She looked to Jericho for an answer, and he nodded like he'd been struck dumb-witted.
He scrambled for words. "We're, um, going to eat in here tonight. All of us."
Her smile brightened enough to make him wish he'd done more. What else could he do to bring out that sunshine?
She started toward the stove. "Lillian and I have been busy today. We hope you like what we've prepared." Her voice hesitated, like she was shy or worried.
He raised his brows. "I'm sure it'll be good." The smells were making him hungrier by the minute.
As she took the lid from the pot and stirred its contents, she sent him a glance. "Are you planning to…restock…supplies any time soon?" She sounded like she was trying to make a suggestion without stepping on his toes.
He dipped his chin. "We're low on things, I know." He glanced toward the door, where Missoula Mills sat a day's ride away. "I need to get to town. Soon." But he couldn't leave now. Not with Jonah's injury and these women…
"Would you mind if I go with you? If you're going to town I mean. I'd like to look around for the best place to open a medical clinic."
He swung his focus back to her and barely kept his thoughts from spilling out before he could sift through them. She was going to run a clinic?
In Missoula Mills?
That den of heathens—otherwise known as miners—was no place for a respectable woman. And to run a business on her own? Doing work that required close physical contact with her customers…? Not if he had anything to say in the matter.
Which he didn't. Not really.
He could give his opinion of course, but she wouldn't likely abide by his wishes unless she asked his advice. He eased out a breath, doing his best to quell his racing thoughts with the action.
"I also need to purchase additional supplies for my sister and me." She gave him a smile that seemed to be trying to ease his worries.
It didn't work.
He nodded and turned back to the chairs lined against the wall. "We'll see how Jonah is tomorrow. Maybe I can go the next day. Make a list of what you need. Here in our cabin, and for yourselves. I'll bring them back for you." He certainly wasn't taking her along on a two-day journey.
Footsteps sounded outside, and the rest of the boys filed in.
Jericho motioned them toward the table, but before anyone could sit, Miss Wyatt spoke up. "I've set a washbasin and towel here for you to use before meals."
Ah, yes. That was one other bit of civility he'd lost these last years. He required baths at least once a week, or whenever the boys got too rank to stand near, but Mum had kept a basin of water in just about the exact spot Miss Wyatt placed it now.
While his brothers and nephew availed themselves of the water and cloth, Jericho poked his head into Jonah's room. His brother opened his eyes partway and offered a tired curve of his mouth.
