Jonathan gripped the nearby post, his nails digging into the wood.
A baby.
Catherine was carrying a baby.
She hadn’t told him. Nor had he noticed. Was he blind? How could he—
“Mr. Clark?” Mrs. Denzinger watched him with concerned eyes.
“She told you this?” he demanded.
She stiffened, and he apologized. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so harsh.”
“It’s all right. I’m sure this is shocking. And no, she didn’t tell me. I simply observed and figured it out on my own.”
“So it’s possible that it isn’t true,” he said, the breath rushing out of him.
“Well . . . I suppose. But I’m rarely wrong about these things. I wanted children of my own for so long that I can’t help but notice when other women are expecting.” She cuddled the baby to her chest. “Please excuse me. Little Grace here needs to eat.”
Jonathan nodded in response, his mind spinning.
“Please be gentle with her,” Mrs. Denzinger said before she walked away. “If she hasn’t told you, there is likely a good reason.”
Denzinger returned with the horse and hitched him to the carriage. Jonathan paid the man and murmured his thanks, grateful to finally get outside into the fresh air. Atop the carriage, it was easier to think.
If Mrs. Denzinger was correct and Catherine was expecting a baby, why wouldn’t she have said anything? Did her pastor know when he arranged the marriage? He couldn’t have . . . unless he expected her to confess her situation in a letter. Yet they hadn’t exchanged any letters. There hadn’t been time, given her need to leave her old home quickly.
Catherine hardly seemed one for trickery. The child must be her late husband’s. Jonathan refused to contemplate anything more scandalous, but as he drew up alongside the boarding house, he knew he ought to be prepared for anything.
Including sending her back to Tennessee.
Chapter Seven
CATHERINE EMERGED FROMone of the unused rooms victorious, carrying a feather-stuffed pillow in her arms.
“Here you are,” she said as she handed the pillow to a confused Mr. Hixon. “It’s for your neck. I heard you telling Mrs. Bell about the crick in your neck that you can’t seem to shake. I thought that perhaps a second pillow might help.”
