limping, Miss McCree. Did you hurt yourself?”
“No. Yes.” She swallowed and tried again, keeping her head averted. “Nothing serious. I…stubbed my toe.”
“Oh. Sorry.” He scraped back his chair. Before she could escape he was touching her, his hand on her arm, his voice full of concern. “I’ll get a lantern.”
“There’s no need.” But she couldn’t flee. Couldn’t move. The touch of him caused a flare of heat that caught her by surprise.
“I guess, because I’m so familiar with this old cabin, I forget the need for more lanterns.” Up close she had a clean soap-and-water smell that was appealing. Even her hair smelled fresh, like a windswept meadow after a rain.
“It’s just me.” She swallowed, hating the nerves that had her quivering. But he was too close. Overpowering. She needed to step back. But the touch of his hand had her frozen. “I’ve always been clumsy.”
“I find that hard to believe, Miss McCree.” Very carefully he lifted his hand. But the heat of her body stayed with him.
“I’ll just—” she turned away, feeling confused and breathless “—get dressed now.”
In her haste to flee, her limp was even more pronounced. When she reached the bedroom, she closed the door, then leaned against it, breathing hard.
Sweet salvation. What had she been thinking of, going out there barefoot? The last thing she had expected was to find him already in the house.
Taking a deep breath, she made her way to the bed, where she deposited her clothes. Then, dropping the blanket, she dressed hurriedly. When she had smoothed down her skirts and carefully brushed and tamed her hair, she slipped on her new shoes and tied them.
She took a few more minutes to make up the bed and tidy the room. Then she walked slowly, evenly, to the door.
As she’d feared, Matthew was still seated at the table. To make matters worse, the children had drifted down from their sleeping loft and were busy making breakfast. Aaron, still picking straw from his hair, ambled in from the barn, carrying a bucket of fresh milk. The hounds bounded in on his heels and began sniffing around the table.
“There’s coffee on the fire,” Matt said as he lifted his cup.
“Thank you. Would you like me to help with breakfast?”
“There’s no need. The children will take care of it.”
That’s what she’d feared. Already Aaron was slicing the bloody beef, and Clement was heating last night’s biscuits over the fire.
“I could fetch some eggs,” she volunteered.
“That’s Del’s job.” Aaron wiped his knife on his pants and set a platter of beef on the table.
The little girl entered the cabin carrying a basket of eggs.
“How many did you get?” her brother asked.
“I could only find seven that weren’t broken. The hens laid some of them right in the straw where the cows walked. There were smashed eggs everywhere, Pa.”
Matt winced. “That’s all right. As long as the cows didn’t step on your hens, they’ll lay more tomorrow. Go ahead and fry up what you found.”
Del broke the eggs into a skillet, picking out eggshells as she worked. Then she set the pan over the fire. A few minutes later she carried a platter of congealed eggs to the table and everybody began spooning some onto their plates.
“Pass some to Miss McCree,” Matt commanded.
“No, thank you.” Izzy handed the platter to Benjamin and nibbled on a biscuit. She had softened it by dipping it into her coffee.
“That’s all you’re having?” Matt studied her. If anything, she looked even more pale and delicate than when she’d arrived yesterday. And far too skinny.
“I’m really not hungry.” She wondered how anyone could work up an appetite for such fare.
“I’ll have a couple of those eggs, Del.” Matt took the platter and slid a blob onto his plate.
Izzy watched in silence while the children and their father shoveled food into their mouths and ate mechanically, washing it down with gulps of milk. Whenever they bit into something hard or distasteful, they merely spit it into their hands and opened up their fingers behind their backs. One of the hounds would snap it up.
“You’re awfully quiet this morning, Miss McCree.” Aaron stopped eating for a moment to study her carefully.
“I hadn’t thought about it, but I guess—” Izzy nodded “—I guess I am.”
“Because you’re leaving?” Del asked.
“No. Just because today is a…special day.”
“What’s special about today?” Matt asked.
She turned to him and felt the heat rise to her cheeks. “Unless you’ve changed your mind, Matthew, it’s our wedding day.” There. She’d said it aloud.
The children stared first at her, then at their father.
Aaron let out a whoop. “You mean it, Miss McCree? You’re going to marry Pa?”
She nodded. “As long as he agrees.”
Matt had been busy swallowing his fourth biscuit. Now it stuck like a stone in his throat, and he had to gulp a cup of scalding coffee to get it down. He glanced at his four children, then at the woman who was watching his face with such intensity. “I believe I said my piece last night, Miss McCree. All I needed was your answer.”
“Now you have it.”
With absolutely no expression he studied her, as though searching for something in her eyes. Abruptly he pushed away from the table. “I’ll hitch up the team. We have a long ride ahead of us.”
“What about the children?” she called to his retreating back.
He turned. “What about them?”
“I think it would be nice if they came along.”
He could see the pleading in the children’s eyes and tried to ignore it. “They’re needed here. To do the chores.”
“Maybe if we all pitched in,” she suggested, “we could do at least the necessary chores and leave the rest until we returned.”
“I’ll do double duty tomorrow, Pa,” Aaron promised.
“Me, too,” Benjamin put in quickly.
It was on the tip of Matt’s tongue to refuse. Instead he turned away, calling over his shoulder, “One hour. But we’ll have to catch up when we get home.”
He didn’t stay around long enough to see the excitement in the children’s eyes. But Izzy saw it and was warmed by it. Maybe what she was about to do wouldn’t seem so bad, as long as she knew they would benefit.
Wasn’t that why she had suggested they come along? She’d like to think so. But the truth was, she hadn’t wanted to be alone with her husband-to-be.
The horses and wagon had been heading downward for hours. When they had started out in the mountains, the air had been crisp and cold. But now there was only bright, clear sunshine and a breeze so fresh and clean it almost hurt to breathe it in.
Izzy was crowded onto the seat beside Matt, with Aaron next to her. In the back Benjamin, Clement and Del were laughing and teasing, clearly overjoyed at the thought of escaping their daily chores for a rare visit to civilization.
The horses crossed a long, flat stretch of meadow before splashing through a stream. Izzy held tightly to the seat of the wagon as the horses fought their way up the bank.
“Careful.” Matt caught her when