Page 66 of Mail-Order Lady

Rose was already moving into the hall, and Clara followed with Robert coming behind her.

The need to speak with him pressed against her ribs. To thank him for riding after the doctor. For being the one brother willing to set aside stubbornness and do what needed doing.

But Rose walked with them as they descended the stairs. The words Clara wanted to say felt too private to speak in front of anyone else.

If only she could take Robert aside now and ask what he was thinking. Whether he believed Nathan truly was his brother. Whether the weight of it—this stranger who’d appeared from nowhere with claims that rewrote their entire family history—pressed on him the way it seemed to press on Enoch.

Maybe tonight. Perhaps when Nathan was settled better and the house had calmed, she and Robert could take a walk and talk. This man, who was coming to mean so much to her, who she already respected and maybe even… Well, the man who was creeping into her heart little by little.

CHAPTER 20

The ranch felt like it held its breath.

Two days since Nathan had collapsed against the fence post. Two days of Bea climbing the stairs with quinine mixed into molasses. They’d all taken turns checking on Nathan or sitting with him. The women more than the brothers, if the truth were told, but Enoch kept them on a tight watch cycle. Along with the basic chores around the ranch and keeping up with calvings in the east pasture, Robert and his brothers were all exhausted.

He’d barely seen Clara these last two days, let alone had a moment alone with her. She stayed close to Kate much of the time, bringing her tea and food and who knew what else. The rest of the hours, she spent with Rose or Mandie in the kitchen or helping Bea with Nathan.

When their paths crossed in the hallway, she’d give him that soft look—the one that made his chest tighten—but there was never time to do more than exchange a few words before someone needed something.

He stood at the window in his study now as the sun sank behind the western peaks. The light bled across the sky in oranges and golds that would’ve been beautiful if he weren’t so exhausted.

The ledger sat open on his desk behind him. He’d been trying to update the calving records and the value of the stock for the better part of a half hour, but the numbers kept swimming together on the page. His mind wouldn’t settle long enough to focus.

Footsteps sounded outside his study. Light ones.

His pulse kicked up. Maybe Clara had come looking for him.

He turned and strode to the door, then stepped out into the main room. Clara stood there, her honey-colored hair catching the lamplight with loose strands around her face.

Her eyes found his, and a weight lifted from his chest.

“Robert.” She stepped closer. “I was hoping to find you.”

The sound of his name in her voice always stirred his insides. Made it hard to pull in a full breath. “Is everything all right? Kate?”

“She’s resting. Thomas is with her.” She stood close enough that he could see the faint shadows beneath her eyes. They were all so tired. “I wanted...” She paused, then gave him a small smile. “I’ve missed you.”

The words wove warmth through his chest. She’d missed him. He’d thought about her constantly these past two days—the kiss, the way she’d held onto him in this very room, the softness in her eyes when their paths crossed.

But he could never be certain she felt the same pull.

“I’ve missed you too.” The admission came easier than it should have. He’d spent so many years guarding his words, measuring them out carefully. But with Clara, the truth kept slipping past his defenses.

She glanced toward his study door, still open behind him. “Were you working?”

“Trying to.” He followed her gaze, then looked back at her. The lamplight cast shadows across her face, highlighting the delicate line of her jaw. “The numbers aren’t cooperating.”

A soft laugh escaped her. “I know the feeling. I tried to read earlier, but I kept reading the same paragraph over and over without any of it sticking.”

She’d been trying to distract herself too then. At least he wasn’t alone in this restlessness.

He could invite her into his study. They could sit and talk without interruption. The space was quiet, private. But the walls had started pressing in on him over the past hour, the lamplight squeezing too close, the air too still.

They both needed to get out of this house.

“Would you walk with me?” The words came out before he’d fully decided to say them. “Outside. Fresh air might be nice.”

Her face brightened, and the shadows beneath her eyes seemed to ease. “I’d like that.”