She’d been trying to settle things between them. To help him see that they both wanted the best for their daughter. And surely they couldn’t find a better life for Mary Ellen than growing up here in these majestic mountains, surrounded by her mother and a host of people who loved her. If only Eric could stay here in her life, too, though she wouldn’t say that. He would have to be the one to choose that path if he wanted it.
She turned back to the clearing. “Let’s finish our meal. The air is growing colder, so we should get back to the house soon.”
Eric motioned her ahead of him. Perhaps he wanted to position himself between them and the long-disappeared bear. She didn’t argue, just moved in behind Lillian as they walked single-file to the clearing.
When they reached the blanket, Lillian plopped down and picked up her cup of likely-cool chocolate. The flask she’d carried it in would have kept it warm, but these cups exposed the drink to cold air.
Naomi lowered to kneel where she’d sat before. Was it worth trying to finish eating, or should she start packing the food away?
Eric stood at the edge of the blanket, Mary Ellen still in his arms as he stared toward the woods. That hard set to his jaw meant he hadn’t released his anger. Or perhaps it was more worry and fear for their safety.
No matter what fueled his tension, Naomi had a feeling this experience had only solidified his desire to take Mary Ellen back with him in the spring.
She wouldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t lose her daughter. And there was no way she would ever move back to the east, not to the place where all the memories and reminders would torment her.
She’d found peace in these mountains, at least more than any other place. And she would do anything to keep this new lifeandher daughter. Anything.
CHAPTER 11
Eric glanced at the gray sky as his horse maneuvered up the slope to the ranch house. He should arrive in time for the family's church service. He'd been surprised at the invitation, surprised that they went to the trouble to have a service at all, though Dinah had said it would be a casual affair. Of course, living out here so far from any town or even a neighbor, they would have to hold their own services if there were to be any.
A tiny blur of white drifted in front of his face, landing with a sting on his nose. He glanced upward.Snow? Really, God?
The sky had been thick with low gray clouds all morning, so he'd known snow was possible. Yet, couldn't God have held it off until he spent a bit of time with his daughter and returned to the village?
Now he'd have to keep an eye on the snowfall while he was at the Coulters', and he might even have to leave early to make it back safely.
That single flake turned into a multitude by the time the house and barn came into sight. When he slipped out of the saddle in front of the barn door, his frozen feet almost didn'thold him up. He managed to make them work and settled his gelding in the stall Miles said he’d keep open for him, then pulled his collar back up around his neck for the walk up to the house. Everyone must already be there. With so many bodies inside, the place would be crowded.
Eric trudged through the rapidly thickening curtain of snow. The crunch underfoot was eerily loud in the silence as he approached the house. The icy wind cut through his layers of clothing, gnawing at his resolve as well as his skin.
He was about to face all the Coulters. In one place. Including Jonah. Would the man throw him out? The only time they’d been in close proximity since the fight had been the day of Sean’s accident. Jonah usually kept his distance, so hopefully he'd do the same today.
When Eric reached the cabin door, he raised his hand to knock, but hesitated. Dinah had told him he could come on in without knocking. That they would be expecting him. Did he dare take her at her word? Naomi's sister had certainly accepted his presence there more readily than many of the others.
He moved his hand to the latch string and tugged. They'd left this hanging out, so maybe they really did mean for him to come in. As he pushed open the cabin door, warmth and the sound of voices blew out to greet him. He stepped onto the stoop and knocked the snow from his boots, then entered.
The warmth that enveloped him was so complete it almost took his breath away. He squinted as he adjusted to the dimly lit room, bustling with voices and movement, a stark contrast to the quiet outside.
A few women worked at the cookstove, and some of the men were pulling chairs into a large circle. The others clustered in groups, talking. He scanned their faces for Mary Ellen's cherubic smile. Or Naomi's.
They were already coming toward him, the mother carrying the child. A longing pressed in hischest. Naomi was so beautiful, especially when she looked at him with that light in her eyes. Now that she’d had time to think through what he’d said during her picnic, maybe she could see the sense in his words.
And their daughter... He could barely breathe with the weight of his wanting. If only he could go to them. Wrap his arms around them and hold them close. Never ever let either of them go.
When Naomi reached him, she didn't fully meet his gaze. "I'm surprised you came, what with the snow starting." She nodded toward a chair. "We're getting ready to begin. Sit there and I'll put Mary Ellen in your lap."
If only he could protest her constant coddling of his ribs. But she was right. Holding his daughter often made his middle burn so much that his lungs could barely draw breath.
He obeyed, and she settled their daughter on his leg. The others moved to the chairs gathered in a large circle around the room. Lillian sat on one side of him, and Dinah on the other, with Jericho settling on her other side. Naomi sat a few chairs down beside Jonah, her gaze focused ahead.
Eric wouldn't have guessed there were enough seats for everyone, but somehow there were. Everyone except Sean, anyway, who sat on the floor in front of Jericho, legs extended in front of him. Perhaps Eric had taken his chair.
Before he could offer to switch with the boy, a hush fell over the group, and Jericho spoke up, his voice carrying through the room. "Let's start with prayer."
Eric bowed with the rest and tried to keep his mind focused on the words being said. Jericho's prayer sounded much like a conversation with God, mostly focused on thankfulness for the bounty of their lives, even in the face of challenges. His deep voice resonated with conviction. Clearly, the man’s faith was a deep part of himself.
As the prayer concluded with a chorus of "amens," Jericholooked to Lillian. "Want to start us off with ‘O Worship the King?’ You can pick the second one."
