Merrick grinned. This was the first time Eleanor had suggested spending any money at all. Even if it wasn’t for herself, it was nice to know she finally trusted him to keep them comfortable. “Ask her tomorrow,” he said.
She beamed at him. “I’ll do just that. Thank you.” She laid a hand on his arm and leaned forward to see his ledger. “Now, what are you working on so diligently?”
“Accounting for the shop.” He pushed the nub of a pencil across the page, wishing the lines would add and subtract themselves and miraculously find where he’d made a mistake that had thrown off his total.
“You don’t sound particularly enthusiastic.” A slight smile lifted the corner of her lips, and all Merrick wanted to do was lift a hand to trace the outline of her mouth.
But he kept his hands firmly in his lap and leaned forward to look at the ledger instead. “I don’t much care for arithmetic. I did something wrong here, and now the numbers aren’t adding up correctly.”
“Would you like me to look at it?” she asked.
He glanced up at her in surprise. “Do you want to?”
“I don’t mind at all. I’ve always enjoyed numbers. They make sense in a way that other things don’t sometimes.”
He couldn’t wrap his mind around that at all. People made sense. Iron and fire made sense. Even horses made sense most of the time. But numbers were like speaking a foreign language sometimes. He slid the book over to her.
She moved the lamp closer and peered down at his work. “Where is the discrepancy?”
Merrick pointed out the problem. Eleanor began from where he’d last known everything added up correctly and worked her way down the columns. Occasionally, she’d scratch a few figures in the corners of the page, and her lips moved slightly as she worked the numbers in her head.
He watched her, amused that anyone could move as quickly down the page as Eleanor did. Her eyebrows scrunched up as she thought, and the way she silently spoke the numbers she read was perhaps one of the most adorable things he’d ever seen. What would she do if he laid a hand against her jaw? He imagined her forgetting all about the numbers in his ledger book as her eyes rose to his. She’d draw in a breath as he leaned forward. Then her eyes would close as he pressed his lips—
“Ah ha! I found it!” Eleanor’s exclamation yanked Merrick back into reality. She pointed at the cost he’d written in for selling a batch of nails to Michael McFarland, who ran the Crest Stone Hotel. “See, all you did was transpose these two numbers when you did the sum. I fixed it, and now it all adds up perfectly.”
She slid the book back over to him, and Merrick blinked at the page. It was such a little mistake, and yet one that had cost him so much time in trying to figure out. And Eleanor had found it in only a few minutes.
“Thank you,” he said. “This is incredible.”
Eleanor’s cheeks went pink. “I don’t know ifincredibleis the right word. It didn’t take me too long.”
“And that’s what makes it incredible.” He caught her gaze, and she smiled sheepishly.
“It’s only doing a few sums,” she said as a lock of her auburn hair slipped from its pins to grace her cheek.
Without thinking, Merrick lifted a hand and gently pushed it back behind her ear. Her skin was warm and soft, and all hecould think of was the flight of whimsy he’d allowed himself to entertain while she was working so diligently.
She drew in a breath and stilled, just like he’d imagined. His hand lingered on her skin, and although his heart seemed louder than the hammer against an anvil, he let his fingers unfurl against her cheek. He watched her for even the slightest sign of fear or hesitation, but he saw neither. Instead, her brown eyes softened and her lips parted ever so slightly.
This was it. An invitation to bring the kiss he’d imagined to life. It would be more than the chaste peck they’d shared at their wedding ceremony. It would bereal, an expression of everything he dared to feel for her.
He held her gaze a moment, and just as he thought he’d gathered the courage to lower his lips to hers, he caught sight of his hand against her face. The contrast made him wither inside. She was so small and gentle, bringing a new life into the world, and he was . . .
A bear.
There was no better word for it. His hand was paw-like, large and fumbling, just like he’d always been. All the courage he’d mustered blew away like a flame in a breeze. He dropped his hand as his face warmed, and he quickly turned his attention back to the book on the table. He didn’t dare look at Eleanor. He didn’t want to see every doubt he had about himself reflected in her eyes.
He closed the book and mumbled a thank you.
“You’re welcome,” she replied, and a part of him thought that perhaps she sounded a bit disappointed.
No. She was likely relieved. He stood a little too quickly, the chair falling backward and clattering to the floor. Merrick stood it back up and clasped the ledger under his arm. “I need to return this to the shop.”
And without bothering to put on his coat or hat, he left as fast as he possibly could. The bitter December wind cut right through his clothing, but he hardly felt it as he hurried to the shop. The gentle snowflakes from earlier fell faster now, and a light dusting clung to the brown grasses and dirt.
He placed the ledger back on the small desk inside the shop and took a few minutes to walk around under the pretense that he needed to check on everything before turning in for the night.
After he’d wasted enough time that he hoped Eleanor had doused the lamp and gone to bed, he locked up the shop and made his way back to the house. Shivering as he opened the door, he was relieved to see that it was dark inside save for the fire warming the house.
