She glanced down at the basket where Ruby slept. So peaceful at last. She’d woken an extra time to eat in the night, then had been fussy all morning. But about a quarter hour ago she finally gave in to sleep. If only Grace could do the same. So many weeks of interrupted nights left her perpetually weary.
Mr. Coulter nodded ahead. "There's the town."
Her heart picked up speed as she studied the cluster of buildings emerging from the barren landscape.
This was it. The moment of truth.
She tried to still her restless foot, but it seemed to have a mind of its own. She curled her fingers around the edge of the wagon seat, knuckles whitening.
Mr. Coulter must have sensed her unease, for he glanced over, his brow furrowed with concern. "Does your father have any idea you're coming?”
She shook her head, not trusting her voice to keep steady.
"You think he'll be upset you've come to find him?" There was a note of apprehension in his tone.
Grace swallowed hard. "No." But even to her own ears, the word sounded feeble and unconvincing. Weak. She couldn’t let herself be weak. She had to show confidence.
Mr. Coulter's frown deepened. "When was the last time you saw him?"
"A little over a month ago."
He looked as though he wanted to say more, but they’d reached the first buildings on the outskirts of town.
She stared at all the unfamiliar shops and houses. So many. She only had one memory of seeing a town—Canvas Creek—but it hadn’t been this big. Had it?
A river flowed behind the structures to the right, its waters dark and turbulent. A handful of men milled about the street, barely sparing a glance at their approaching wagon.
"Jedidiah’s staying at the hotel." Mr. Coulter spoke quietly. "I'll take you there first and help you get settled. They should have a room available for you and the babe. Your things will be safe in the wagon at the livery, and I'll see to it the goat has a stall as well."
Grace nodded but couldn’t speak. She tried to envision the reunion with her father. The speech she’d rehearsed over and over during the journey now seemed so inadequate. How would he react to her sudden appearance—and the baby? Anger? Shock? She couldn't picture any other response.
Would he open his arms and welcome her? Not likely. He'd hugged her when she was a girl—when he arrived for a visit and when he would leave. But that affection had ended many years ago.
They’d become polite to each other. When he came, he asked how she and her mother fared. The last time, after Mama passed, he'd not even dismounted his horse. She’d come outside to meet him, and he’d inquired about how she was getting along. When she told him how hard it was, how much she missed Mama, he hadn’t responded at all. Maybe he'd not known what to say. Surely, he missed his wife too. He'd simply questioned whether Oren had come to deliver supplies that month, and when she said yes, he nodded. Then he'd turned and rode away.
As Mr. Coulter brought the wagon to a halt in front of the hotel, her heart pounded, and she couldn’t catch a full breath. She clutched the handle of Ruby's basket.
He hopped down and came around to assist her. For a moment, she wanted nothing more than to cling to the safety of the wagon bench, to flee back to the lonely familiarity of the house in the valley.
Why did she ever think this was a good idea? She was doing this for her freedom. She just needed a little money from her father, then she could start anew somewhere else. Somewhere with people, where loneliness wouldn't consume her.
With Mama gone, she couldn't take the isolation. Not another day.
She finally placed her gloved hand in Mr. Coulter's, then used his strength for support as she stepped down from the wagon. She worked to ignore the warmth that spread up her cheeks as his fingers enveloped hers.
"Thank you," she managed to say.
"It's my pleasure." He smiled, but his eyes still held a glimpse of worry. Was his concern about her encounter with Father as well? “I’ll get the basket.”
She let him reach in and hoist Ruby in a smooth motion.
As he started to walk forward, she caught his sleeve. "Mr. Coulter?"
He paused, eyebrows arched.
"I...I wanted to thank you for bringing me here." She bit her bottom lip. She couldn’t make herself meet his eyes. The air between them seemed charged with…she couldn’t say what. Maybe only her nerves.
“I’m glad I was there to help.” His voice came gentle, a lifeline. She finally met his gaze and let herself sink into those eyes. They understood. Somehow, they understood.
