For a moment, his face hardened.
Then he leaned toward Clara.
"Would you like to sit?"
She nodded.
They took a pew near the front.
The minister began the service.
Clara tried to listen.
But she could feel the weight of curious eyes.
She wondered whether someone had noticed her condition.
Perhaps Martha Bell had spoken carelessly.
Perhaps the boardinghouse in St. Louis had sent a letter.
Perhaps people had simply counted the weeks since Gabriel brought her home.
Whatever the reason, fear returned.
After the service, Abigail approached again.
She invited Clara to visit for tea.
Clara accepted politely.
Then a tall rancher stepped forward.
He was forty-five, broad-faced, and dressed in an expensive coat that looked out of place beside the plain clothing of most settlers.
His name was Miles Rourke.
He owned land north of Gabriel's property.
Their families had disagreed over grazing boundaries for years.
Miles smiled at Gabriel.
"Well, Morrow. Finally took yourself a wife."
Gabriel nodded.
"Miles."
The rancher looked toward Clara.
His gaze lingered on her stomach.
Then he smiled.
"Seems you've been busy."
Clara went still.
Gabriel's expression changed.
"What do you mean?"
Miles shrugged.
"Nothing."
He looked toward Clara again.
"Just surprised. Thought you told everyone a doctor said you couldn't have children."
The words landed like a slap.
Clara felt heat rise into her cheeks.
Several people nearby turned.
Gabriel stood very still.
Then he stepped slightly closer to Clara.
"My wife's health isn't your concern."
Miles laughed.
"Easy, friend. Just making conversation."
Gabriel's voice became cold.
"Then find another subject."
For a moment, the two men stared at each other.
Miles looked toward the growing crowd.
Then smiled thinly.
"Of course."
He tipped his hat toward Clara.
"Mrs. Morrow."
Then walked away.
Clara stood trembling.
She could feel people watching.
Her instinct was to turn and leave.
But Gabriel remained beside her.
He offered his arm again.
She looked up.
His face was still tense.
But his hand was steady.
"Ready?"
She swallowed.
"Yes."
They walked out together.
Only when they reached the wagon did Clara begin crying.
She turned away, embarrassed.
Gabriel stood beside her.
For a moment, he seemed unsure what to do.
Then he took a clean handkerchief from his pocket.
Held it out.
She accepted it.
"I'm sorry."
He shook his head.
"For what?"
"For embarrassing you."
Gabriel looked toward the church.