Naomi must have felt his gaze, for hers lifted to meet his.
He worked to find the words, then started with the two most important. "Thank you."
Her brows gathered.
He pressed on. "You've done a remarkable job with her. With our daughter.” Emotion clogged in his throat, and he paused and swallowed it down. “Thank you for everything. For caring for her. For letting me meet her." And so much more.
Naomi's eyes shone, but she didn't speak. Only nodded, then dropped her focus back to the girl.
That might have been partly because Mary Ellen was bouncing the toy up Naomi's arm,walkingup to her shoulder. She wiggled it in Naomi's face, babbling nonsensical sounds. Clearly the doll was talking to Naomi.
Naomi leaned back a little as she spoke to the toy. "It's nice to meet you, Dolly."
Had Naomi understood the chatter? Had Mary Ellen really named the figure Dolly? Perhaps Naomi was simply playing along, selecting a name quickly that would work until Mary Ellen was old enough to choose one herself.
Either way, Naomi was clearly a remarkable mother.
He swallowed once more, clearing away more emotion from his throat. He'd dreamed of sitting with her, playing with their first child. He'd never ever imagined the moment would look like this.
CHAPTER 6
Naomi’s nerves flipped as she approached the bunkhouse. Jonah hadn’t come out yet today, though it was already midafternoon. When the rest of the men came to the main house for the morning meal, Jude said Jonah was still sleeping. She'd attempted to check on him after the breakfast dishes were done, but her knocks on the door were met with silence.
Surely he would be awake now. Maybe he’d stayed in the bunkhouse to avoid Eric.
She’d wondered if Eric would even come after Dinah’s description of how she and Jericho had found him—laid on the side of a mountain with his horse not even unsaddled. She’d said he hadn’t really awakened as she checked his abdomen, making sure there was no internal bleeding and confirming two ribs showed signs of being broken.
Naomi still couldn’t believe they’d left him like that, but Dinah had been firm in her answer that they’d made certain he had no life-threatening injuries. Now they needed to let him make choices for himself. Good thing Two Stones and Heidi had found him and helped him reach the ranch. And convincedhim to go on with them to stay in their Salish village. A good decision, since he would have a warm bark lodge to sleep in. Plenty of food and people around to care for him, especially with his injuries.
But he would be so far away. A two-hour ride. How often would he come to see Mary Ellen? He’d been thousands of miles away for the first ten months of the girl's life. Two hours was a vast improvement, but how often would he make the trip?
His visit that morning had gone far better than Naomi had let herself hope. He'd stayed for nearly two hours, sitting on the floor with their daughter, building with her blocks. They'd even constructed a makeshift house for the doll he brought her.
Then he'd read from the two books Jericho had ordered for her, an illustrated edition ofAesop’s FablesandGammer Gurton's Garland.Mary Ellen never seemed to understand or care about the words. But the brightly painted pictures in the former always caught her attention, at least for a half minute. Eric realized that quickly, and made up stories about each picture. Sometimes he would match the story to the written text, but more often than not, he made up a much wilder version. Naomi had never realized what an imagination he had.
He'd said he would return tomorrow, though he’d not said how long he would stay in the territory before he went back east. Months, she hoped.
She couldn't let herself wish for longer. She had pledged to marry Jonah, who would provide a wonderful home for her and Mary Ellen—a solid, stable life. He was such a good man.
She was lucky he'd asked her. Fortunate he was willing to build such a wonderful cabin for them.
A cabin just as large as Jericho and Dinah's, with two separate bed chambers and a loft above them. She would have her own bed chamber if she wanted, which she would likely share with Mary Ellen, as she did now. She'd have her own kitchen. Her own...everything. And she'd have Jonahthere with her—a good friend and partner. He'd said he wouldn't push her for any marital rights. Those would be available if she wanted them, but he held no expectations.
How could she not want the picture he painted? And it wasn't an idle dream, as Eric's had been back when he'd offered her marriage. Jonah was actually building this cabin. It was why he'd gone to Fort Benton, to pick up real windows. He would, no doubt, be cutting more logs today if he weren’t injured.
She stood at the bunkhouse door. Had Eric’s presence and the fight ruined it all? Surely she could make Jonah see she didn't care about Eric. Well...not in the way she once had.
She pushed aside the niggling voice that questioned the truth of that thought and knocked softly on the door. "Jonah?" She strained to hear any rustling or movement inside. Was that a footstep?
The latch clicked, then the door creaked open, revealing Jonah's tired face. The shadows under his eyes seemed darker than usual, the crook in his nose quite pronounced. Dinah had not exaggerated his injuries.
She offered a tentative smile. "Hello."
He leaned against the door frame, the strain in his expression softening as his gaze roamed her face. "Hey." His voice was roughened, from sleep or disuse she couldn't tell. There was a vulnerability in his gaze, and maybe a touch of relief.
"I was worried about you. Are you...in pain?" That was a silly question, both because he surely hurt all over, especially his nose, and also because she had no doubt Jonah would deny his aches, as all the men around here tended to do. Too hard-headed for their own good sometimes.
He shook his head—as she'd expected—but then stepped aside to allow her into the bunkhouse's dim interior. "I've just been thinking a lot. There's something I want to tell you."
