“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because the chairs were narrow.”
She looked away.
Of course.
Practical.
Kind.
Humiliating anyway.
Emma said:
“Papa broke one first.”
Lena looked back.
Reid frowned.
“I did not break it.”
“You did.”
“The joint was already loose.”
“You sat and it went crack.”
Lena tried not to laugh.
Failed.
Reid shook his head.
“Wonderful.”
Emma continued:
“So Papa made a strong one.”
“For me?” Lena asked.
Emma nodded.
“I helped.”
“How?”
“I held nails.”
“She dropped nails,” Reid corrected.
“I held some.”
Lena looked between them.
Something inside her defenses shifted.
Reid spoke quietly.
“I didn’t make it because I expected you to come.”
“That is obviously a lie.”
He smiled slightly.
“I hoped.”
Emma tugged Lena’s sleeve.
“Sunday?”
Lena looked down.
The child’s gray eyes were serious.
“Please.”
Lena had spent years protecting herself from pity.
She had become so good at refusing invitations before other people could withdraw them that sometimes she no longer knew whether she was protecting herself or simply staying alone.
She swallowed.
“Sunday.”
Emma smiled.
Reid did too.
Lena pointed at him.
“Stop looking pleased.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I can’t control my face.”
“Learn.”
Sunday arrived cold but clear.
Lena changed dresses three times.
The first pinched beneath her arms.
The second made her feel dressed for church.
The third was deep green wool with simple buttons.
Her mother had sewn the original years earlier.
Lena had altered it repeatedly as her body changed.
It was comfortable.
That mattered more.
Reid arrived with a wagon shortly before four.
“You didn’t need to collect me.”
“It’s eight miles.”
“I’ve traveled eight miles before.”
“In March mud?”
“Possibly not.”
He offered his hand at the wagon step.
Lena looked at it.
“I can manage.”
He withdrew immediately.
“Okay.”
No wounded pride.
No insisting.
She liked that.
Getting into the wagon took time.
Reid had reinforced the passenger bench.
She noticed.
He noticed her noticing.
“Before you ask, the old board was rotten.”
She stared.
He added:
“And yes, I reinforced it because I knew you’d be sitting there.”
“Honesty. Dangerous.”
“I’m trying it.”
She settled.
The horses moved.
The countryside opened around them.
Snow remained beneath the shadows of pines.
Meltwater filled ruts.
Mountains rose blue-gray in the distance.
Reid’s ranch appeared after nearly an hour.
A weathered cabin.
Barn.
Corral.
Smoke from the chimney.
Nothing grand.
But cared for.
Emma burst through the door before the wagon stopped.
“You came!”
Lena smiled.
“I said I would.”
“People say things.”
That answer hurt unexpectedly.
Reid heard it too.
His expression tightened.
Emma did not seem to notice.