It was obvious that he was trying to distract her from her worries. “I didn’t. Did you?”
“I’m the youngest of five. All boys,” he said, and Catherine winced on his behalf.
“That couldn’t have been easy, growing up.”
He laughed. “It wasn’t, but I owe them everything.” He frowned, and Catherine had the feeling there was more to his story than he wished to tell. Then the frown disappeared, and he tilted his head. “May I ask why you didn’t go home to your parents instead of answering a marriage request from a strange fellow in Grover’s Gulch?”
His description made her smile. “My father passed on some years ago, and my mother lives with another family. They don’t have much at all, so I didn’t wish to be a burden on them or upon any other family.”
He nodded.
“Besides,” she said, feeling a bit brave. “I liked the idea of an adventure. I’ve lived in Tennessee my entire life, and it’s brought me nothing but sorrow. Perhaps I hoped that by coming here, I could change that.”
“I surely hope so.” Jonathan regarded her with that intense sort of gaze again. Catherine wanted to look away as the color rose in her cheeks, but she didn’t. Instead, she forced herself to meet his eyes. When he smiled, she felt as if she were flying.
It would be so easy to lose her heart to him. And she feared it was already happening, a little bit at a time.
Chapter Ten
AS OCTOBER STRETCHEDinto November, Jonathan found excuses to spend time in the kitchen, where Catherine worked side-by-side with Mrs. Bell, or outside, where she hung laundry in the hopes that the sun’s weaker rays might dry linens and clothing. He’d talk to her of anything and everything, just to hear her voice. But his favorite times were when she didn’t know he was nearby, and she would sing. He tried to encourage her to sing for the guests, but she’d immediately decline. Jonathan could only figure that she was shy about her talent. And a talent it was, too. When she sang, it was like peering into a corner of heaven.
By late November, Catherine’s midsection had grown rounder, and he insisted upon purchasing her fabric for new skirts and bodices.
“It’s too much,” she said as Mr. Griffin, the man who owned the mercantile, measured and cut the fabric she’d chosen. Not that there had been much to choose from. Jonathan was relieved the mercantile carriedanyfabric that would suit a woman.
“It’s serviceable,” he said, frowning over the fact that it would only be enough for two new dresses—one for daily wear and one for Sundays.
She chewed on her lip. “What if . . .?” And when she looked at him with sadness in her eyes. “I suppose I could take them in if need be.”
He wanted to reach a hand up to her face and brush away that resigned look with a flick of his thumb. But considering they were in the mercantile, that wouldn’t do. Instead, he reached over and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
Their packages wrapped, they exited the mercantile and began the short walk back to the boarding house. They passed Mrs. Lowry, and she and Catherine enjoyed a short chat before they continued on.
“Now that you’ve been in Grover’s Gulch for a while, what do you think of it?” Jonathan asked as he shifted the packages into the crook of his arm.
Catherine’s smile seemed to light up the gray day. “It’s more than I’d hoped it would be. I love the shopkeepers and our guests. It would be nice to have more ladies, of course, but the ones that are here are friendly and helpful to one another. I especially adore the mountains and the snow and the train—”
