ajar. Jed perhaps?
Without thinking, Nate stood up and went to investigate. He heard her whispered plea to stop but didn’t heed it. A step from the door, as he reached for the knob, a soft hand gripped his arm with surprising strength and stopped him. He turned to study Hannah for a second, then drawn by an unexplainable force he leaned forward, peering into the room through the opening.
At first, Nate only saw darkness, then his vision adjusted to the low light. His gaze swept the room, catching movement by a small covered window. There was a lone figure, slowly rocking in a chair. The sight disturbed him and heeding Hannah’s tugs on his arm, he turned away.
Her displeasure was clear, full lips pressed thin together instead of curving in a smile. A part of him wanted to stomp into the room behind him and confront the man sitting in there. From her expression, however, he doubted she’d welcome that action.
“Jed?”
Hannah shook her head. She dropped her hold and moved away, returning to her chair. Nate waited a moment, watching her. She picked up her cup and stared down at the contents, turning it slowly around in her hands.
“That’s not Jed?” He kept his tone even, not allowing even a hint of his disbelief.
Hannah’s sigh floated across the room. “It is.”
“But you don’t want me talking to him?”
“As I said, it’d be better if you spoke to Alice first.”
“Why?” He demanded with quiet intensity. Something was very wrong with the other man. The feeling, growing within him for some time, now settled in his gut with certainty. “I’ve known Jed most of my life.”
“I know. Alice told me she started working for your folks when Jed was small, soon after losing her husband. But he’s not the same anymore. He’s…”
“Drunk?”
A sick feeling rose in her stomach. Is it so obvious?
The bleakness of the situation weighed heavy on her. While she struggled for words, Hannah looked over at the door Jed used to shut out the world. In less than a minute, she knew there was no nice way to present the truth.
“It’s likely.”
“Then I should definitely speak to him.”
“It’s not that simple,” she muttered under her breath, resentment crashing over her.
Jed wasn’t the only one who mourned Bessie, yet he behaved as though his pain was all that mattered. The rest of them had to grieve while continuing to handle the daily tasks necessary in life. They had an extra burden now, taking care of him. Her sympathy for the man was in short supply.
“Why isn’t it?”
Her cheeks heated when Hannah realized she’d spoken loud enough for him to hear. She shifted her gaze to meet his. “I… just feel you should talk to Alice first.”
“But won’t explain why?”
“Please.”
“I think-”
The sound of high-pitched voices pierced the thin walls, interrupting Nate. Hannah stood, smiling with relief. There was no need to debate further. She headed across the room.
“They’re back.”
As Nate watched Hannah walk away from him, the front door burst open. One minute the small home was almost dead quiet and the next energy flowed through it. A little girl, followed by two young boys carrying homemade fishing poles made of long sticks and string hurried through the door. Their presence soon filled the space as only children can, with eagerness, excitement, and the joy of simply being alive.
Nate felt a sudden and unexpected longing for his family. Normally he spent long stretches of time alone and knowing his loved ones were nearby, within a day’s ride should the urge to visit overtake him, pleased him. Now it was different. His parents, sister, and Alice were all away from the Bar 7. Ben and his brothers remained on the family ranch but all had been busy with their own concerns. He worried his close-knit family was drifting apart.
“Mama, look.” The little girl ran up to Hannah waving a large pinecone.
Disappointment shot through Nate while Hannah admired her daughter’s prize. It wasn’t logical but a part of him wanted to pursue her. He should’ve known she was married. The men around here would have to be blind not to notice her.
Hannah smoothed back the little girl’s hair, drawing his gaze to her hand. She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Although some couples couldn’t afford rings, another option intrigued him. She could be a widow, young to be so, but possible. He shouldn’t care. Even so, the thought lightened his mood.
Footsteps sounded on the porch. Nate looked over in time to see Alice appear in the doorway. The older woman was a welcome sight. Pleased she was finally here, he smiled. As she stepped inside and shut the door, he closed the distance between them.
“Nathaniel.” Alice smiled her delight, then enveloped him in a hug. “However did Sam convince you to come in his place?”
“I was helping Matt near here.”
“More rustling?”
“Yes, but right now,” Nate kept his voice low as he eased out of her embrace so it wouldn’t carry to where the children had gathered near Hannah, “I’m more concerned about you.”
“I’m fine.”
Nate studied the woman a moment. Although Alice was years older than his mother, it had never been readily apparent until now. New wrinkles lined her face. Dark circles smudged her eyes, giving her a bruised look. Since he’d last seen her, she seemed to have aged years instead of months.
“I don’t believe so. Things are rough here, aren’t they?”
“I am fine.” Her expression turned somber. “As much as I can be.” She nodded toward the little ones. “We’ll talk after they’re in bed.”
“That won’t be for hours.”
“Is there someplace you need to be?”
“Well, I came to bring you home,” he stated in a matter-of- fact tone.
Alice raised an eyebrow. “Did you plan on leaving now?”
“I figured you’d be ready to go.”
“I’m not, but if I was, you really want to leave this late in the day?”
“Yes, but an early start tomorrow would make better sense.”
“Exactly, so make yourself comfortable.”
“Couldn’t we step outside?” He all but whispered, noticing the children were quiet, likely listening.
Alice shook her head. “Little pitchers have big ears.”
“But-”
“It’ll keep, Nathaniel, trust me.”
Her words were gentle but Alice gave him a look Nate had become familiar with growing up. Nothing would change her mind. She gestured with one hand toward the table, calling to the boys. Long experience told him arguing with her was like talking to a fence post, pointless, so he gave up.
“Who are you?” The oldest boy, who couldn’t be more than seven, stepped in front of him while his brother went straight to Alice.
The stubborn angle of his jaw, dark-blond hair and bright- blue eyes proclaimed him as Jed’s son. The anxiety and bravado in his tone stirred empathy. This child felt threatened, regarding him with clear suspicion.
“I’m Nate.” He sank down, crouching before the boy. “Do you remember me?”
“No.”
Alice started to chide the boy for his