THE BATH WAS HEAVENLY, and afterward, Catherine spent a pleasant remainder of the afternoon unpacking her few worldly possessions and then assisting Mrs. Bell in the supper preparations. As soon as the older woman discovered how adept Catherine was at baking bread, Mrs. Bell placed her in charge of baking both the supper and the breakfast loaves.
The comforting familiarity of mixing the ingredients and kneading the dough served as a balm to the wild thoughts that ran through Catherine’s mind. She’d come so close to telling Jonathan about the baby she was carrying—and yet she hadn’t. He’d addressed what he thought her concern was, and she’d been so embarrassed about that possibility that she couldn’t bring her mind around to telling him her secret.
Not that she’d meant it to be a secret. If she’d known of her situation upon accepting Jonathan’s offer through Pastor Jeffreys, she’d certainly have asked the pastor to pass that information along. But she hadn’t known, not until the day she boarded the train in Knoxville.
And by then, it was too late.
After passing an entertaining meal with the boarders and trying desperately to remember each of their names, Catherine retreated to the kitchen with Mrs. Bell. As she placed the last cleaned and dried dish in the cupboard, the older woman took a pot of tea off the stove and gestured at the little kitchen table.
Catherine sank gratefully into the chair.
“You look peaked,” Mrs. Bell said as she poured Catherine some tea.
Catherine pressed her hands to her face. “I suppose my travels have caught up with me.”
Mrs. Bell shook her head in sympathy. “I couldn’t imagine making such a journey again. Particularly if I were in your condition.”
Catherine froze. Mrs. Bell knew.
She wrapped her hands around her tea cup, savoring the warmth and trying to calm her mind. Mrs. Bell didn’t say the words unkindly, although she was right to harbor suspicion. All she had to do was be honest. “I didn’t intend to conceal it.”
Mrs. Bell gave her a guarded smile. “I take it Jonathan doesn’t know?”
Catherine swallowed hard before shaking her head. “Not yet.” She hated that her voice came out in a whisper. All she wanted was for Mrs. Bell to understand, and now she looked like a snake of a woman, tricking a man into marrying her in order to give her child a name.
Which weren’t the circumstances at all. And certainly not what Catherine had intended.
Mrs. Bell reached across the table and patted Catherine’s arm. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
Catherine looked into the woman’s reassuring face. Why Mrs. Bell wanted to believe the best in her, Catherine didn’t know. But she desperately wished for her mother, and Mrs. Bell was the next closest thing.
“All of this was arranged so quickly after my husband died. I was grateful for Pastor Jeffreys’ help, as I wouldn’t have had a home if I’d remained in Tennessee. Within two weeks after Harlan’s funeral, I was on a train West. I didn’t discover until that day that I was . . . expecting his baby. I felt quite ill the first couple of days on the train, and a kindly woman sitting nearby asked if I might be expecting a baby when nothing seemed to help my stomach. I thought back and realized she must be right.” Catherine shook her head. “I don’t know how I didn’t know it before.”
“Of course you wouldn’t, if you haven’t had a child before,” Mrs. Bell said.
Catherine squeezed her eyes shut. “I haven’t carried a baby to birth.” She didn’t addyet. She could hardly feel that hopeful.
“Oh, my dear.” Mrs. Bell’s hand squeezed her wrist. “I am so sorry.”
“Thank you.” Catherine’s voice felt hoarse with unshed tears. She opened her eyes to find Mrs. Bell watching her with all the kindness in the world. “I didn’t mean to keep it from Mr. . . . Jonathan. I simply didn’t know until I was on my way here.”
“It’s a lot, losing one’s husband. I should know,” Mrs. Bell said, her gray eyes wistful. She pulled her hand back and took a sip of her tea. “You were likely overcome after his death. It’s hard to pay attention to any changes in one’s own health in such a situation.”
Catherine nodded. Although Harlan had been more of a burden than a true husband in recent years, she’d mourned the boy she’d once fallen in love with even as she felt gratitude that she’d no longer have to face the man the war had turned him into. And then there was the fear of what she’d do as a widow, immediately followed by learning she’d lose her home.
Mrs. Bell was right. No wonder she hadn’t realized she was carrying a baby.
“You know you must tell him as soon as possible,” Mrs. Bell said. She fixed Catherine with a somewhat sharper look in her eyes.
“Of course.”
Mrs. Bell’s gaze softened. “Jonathan is a good man. I’ve only known him for a few months, but I’ve never seen him act harshly or in an unkind manner. Particularly to a woman. He’ll understand, but you must be honest with him.” She paused. “I believe he’ll be an excellent father.”
Catherine bit down hard on her lip to keep the tears at bay. Whether she was crying for joy at Mrs. Bell’s prediction or in sorrow at knowing she wouldn’t carry this baby to term, she didn’t know. Perhaps it was a little of each. She drew in a ragged breath as Mrs. Bell poured her more tea.
She would tell him. First thing tomorrow morning, he would know.
And then she’d pray as she never had before thatthisbaby might survive.
