Chapter Four
THE FAMILIAR HEAT OFthe forge was a welcome sensation. Merrick closed his eyes for a moment as he felt his shoulders relax. In here, he could be himself. No one expected him to carry on a long conversation, he didn’t need to worry that he took up too much space when he sat or that he’d dribbled gravy on his shirt. And for the first time that day, he could shed the utter fear that came with the wordhusband.
Or even more terrifying,father.
He picked up the horseshoe he’d finished that morning and set it on a shelf until its owner came for it. After the short ceremony, he’d brought Eleanor back to the house, and he came here. He still wore his Sunday best. Under no circumstances could he possibly entertain changing clothing in the same house where Eleanor was. If he ruined what he had on, so be it. At least his dignity would still be intact.
But despite his desire tonotthink about the responsibility he’d just taken on, Eleanor found her way into his thoughts throughout the remainder of the afternoon. It didn’t matter if he was simply putting on his apron or trying to pay close attention to the shape of the shovel blade he was forging, there she was. The delicate features of her face, the way she smiled at him when he stumbled through his marriage vows, the sweet flush of pink that colored her cheeks after he’d given her the most chaste and quick kiss possible at the conclusion of the ceremony.
And then of course was her confession that she was expecting a baby. He was going to be a father. Him, Merrick Benton! A man whose only experience with children was being one himself years and years ago. He’d not even had any younger siblings. Of course, he’d hoped that with a wife might come children one day, but he hadn’t expected it to be so soon.
And how did Eleanor feel about it? She seemed happy enough, but he knew it must have been particularly sad for her considering the loss of her first husband. Of course, he knew nothing about the man, but would the child love Merrick the same way he—or she—would have loved his father? Would Eleanor—
“Pardon me?” a man’s voice called loudly.
Merrick nearly dropped the tongs at the sound.
“Didn’t mean to startle you,” the fellow said. He was younger than Merrick, but likely not by many years. At his side stood a small woman with fair hair and freckles. She clung to his arm as if uncertain about being inside the shop.
Merrick swiped away the beads of perspiration that dotted his forehead. “What can I do for you?”
“One of my horses threw a shoe just outside of town. I don’t suppose you could help me out?” The man was pleasant enough, tall and thin and clean-shaven. Merrick imagined him working for a bank or some other place of importance.
“Let’s take a look.”
Outside, the man led Merrick to the horse, which stood side by side another bay gelding and in front of a wagon. As Merrick inspected the horse’s hoof and took measurements for a shoe, the man introduced himself as Richard Inman.
“Mrs. Inman and I need a place to stay for the evening. I don’t suppose you could recommend a hotel or boardinghouse?” Inman said as Merrick let go of the gelding’s hoof.
Brushing off his hands, Merrick nodded at the fine hotel on the hill that rose behind the buildings across the road. “The Crest Stone Hotel is about as nice as you could find. Darby’s Boardinghouse at the far end of town is a fine place too.”
Inman glanced at the hotel on the hill before exchanging glances with his wife. “The boardinghouse it is. I appreciate your help, Mr. Benton.” He held out his hand and Merrick shook it.
“I’ll have the shoe ready in the morning for you,” Merrick said. “The livery next door is the best place to keep your horses and wagon overnight.”
Inman thanked him again, and with his wife on one arm and the horses’ lines in the other hand, he made his way to Carlisle and Wiley’s livery stable. Merrick watched them a moment, thinking that one never really knew about people. He’d have laid money on the couple going straight to the hotel, with that fine pair of horses and nice clothing.
He glanced back at his house behind the shop. There was no sign of Eleanor, and he wondered what she might be doing at the moment. Lying down after the excitement of the day, perhaps, or arranging the items she brought. She couldn’t have much, though, judging by that carpetbag. He tried not to think of her sitting in one of the chairs, bored and waiting for him to return.
But that was precisely what he thought about the rest of the day, until darkness began to fall in the early evening hours. Normally, he might have kept working, particularly since he had plenty of projects waiting for his attention. But guilt nagged at him for leaving Eleanor on her own all day. Even if he could hardly form a sentence in her presence and couldn’t imagine her yearning for his company, it was only right that he return home at a decent hour.
As he extinguished the forge, he considered taking Eleanor to supper. Perhaps at Darby’s. Miss Darby always made more food than was necessary for their lodgers, and he knew she’d enjoymeeting Eleanor. He hadn’t much considered what Eleanor might want in the way of foodstuff at the house. He had a few basic items, enough to see himself through the days when he wasn’t enjoying supper with the Carlisles or Wileys or stopping by the less reputable but inexpensive boardinghouse down the road for a quick meal. Tomorrow he’d ensure she had funds to purchase whatever she could want for cooking and the like.
Merrick took his time cleaning himself up outside. The water from the well was frigid, but he preferred to freeze than to scare Eleanor with the amount of coal dust and ash that had settled on his skin. There was nothing to do for his clothing, particularly the parts that weren’t covered by the apron. When he was satisfied with his appearance, he ran a hand over his wet hair and knocked quietly at the front door.
After a few seconds, the door opened to Eleanor’s smiling face.
“Goodness,” she said. “You needn’t knock on your own door.” She stepped aside to let him in.
