She pushed herself to sitting, the quilt pooling around her waist. “I’m sorry for causing concern. I don’t know what came over me out there.”
He took a step closer, then hesitated. “You have nothing to apologize for. You’ve been through a lot, and you’re still recovering.” His voice gentled. “I should have insisted you stay inside and rest from the start.”
A wry smile tugged at her lips. “You did. I didn’t listen.”
His mouth quirked up at the corners. “You’re right. I’m learning that Mandie Beaumont is not a woman easily dissuaded from her course.”
Something warm unfurled in her chest at his words, at the hint of admiration in his tone. She met his gaze, her smile growing. “I suppose I can be a bit…stubborn at times.”
“A bit?” He raised his brows.
She let out a soft laugh. “Maybe more than a bit. But I prefer to think of it as determination.”
“Call it what you will, it’s a quality that will serve you well out here.” His expression sobered. “Life on the frontier is not for the faint of heart.”
“I’m beginning to see that.” She’d never seen him so talkative, not without a purpose. Maybe he had something to say, or merely needed to rest and wanted conversation as he did so. She motioned to the chair near her bed. “Come and sit.”
He hesitated, then stepped forward and sank into the seat. His large frame almost dwarfed the piece.
She cleared her throat. “How goes the work on the barn? I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”
Enoch blinked, as if shaking himself from a spell. “Fine. We’ve cleared most of the debris. Tomorrow we’ll start on repairs.” He settled more into the chair. “But you needn’t worry about that. Your only job is to rest and regain your strength.”
She nodded, plucking at a loose thread on the quilt. The idea of more idle hours stretched before her, empty and echoing. She needed rest for her body to heal. But the inactivity chafed, leaving her too much time with her muddled thoughts.
And that sense of foreboding that lingered like a shadow at the edge of her mind.
She met Enoch’s gaze, searching for words to voice her unease. “I know I need rest. But I can’t seem to quiet mythoughts. Earlier, when I was ill, I had the strangest feeling. Like a memory trying to surface, but I couldn’t quite grasp it.”
His brow furrowed. “A memory? Of what?”
She shook her head. “Maybe not so much a memory as…a sensation. An impression.” She closed her eyes, trying to recapture the fleeting images. “I remember being in a powder room, maybe at church.”
She opened her eyes, but strained to find the feeling from before. “There was something awful.” She met his gaze. “Something I had to get away from.”
Enoch leaned forward, his elbows braced on his knees. “What? Was it a person?”
She frowned. “It’s all so hazy. But the feeling was so strong. Like a warning I couldn’t understand.” She wrapped her arms around herself to fight against the chill inside her.
Enoch’s jaw tightened. “Mandie, if someone hurt you, if that’s why you left your home...” He trailed off, his hands curling into fists.
She shook her head. “I don’t know.” Her voice cracked, and she drew in a shuddering breath.Wasthat why she’d come west? Why she’d answered an advertisement for a mail-order bride? Had she actually intended to marry a man she’d never met in person? Or had that simply been the easiest way to escape whatever she’d feared in Savannah?
So many questions. They pressed in like a weight on her chest.
She rubbed the spot, and maybe that’s what caused a strange fluttering sensation in her middle, like the brush of moth wings just below her ribs.
She sat up straighter and moved her hand to her belly where the motion had been.
Enoch leaned closer, his eyes sharpening. “What’s wrong? Are you unwell again?”
She shook her head. “Not that. My insides are still unsettled, I suppose. I just felt this…flutter inside me.”
His eyes searched hers, confusion and worry warring in their depths. “A flutter? Like sickness?”
She shook her head harder. “It’s?—”
The feeling came again, stronger this time. A definite flutter, like a fish darting just beneath the surface of a pond.
