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She blinked hard to keep back the tears, dug her heels into the mare’s flanks and galloped down the road until she could scarcely breathe for the dust.
Potato salad was a small thing, but it was all she could think of to offer.
Long after dark Thad started up the porch steps with tired legs and a mind fuzzy with exhaustion. Leah sat on a chair in the shadows, but she didn’t say a word, just looked at him. In the pale moonlight her face appeared drawn. Only then did he remember she had expected him for supper.
With a sigh he climbed the last step and shoved his hat back. “I’m sorry, Leah.”
He could say he had been jawing with Henry Pritchard and Wash Halliday about the drought. Or that he’d stayed at the mercantile to help tally the ballots. Or…
No, he couldn’t. He could never lie to Leah.
“I plain forgot all about your potato salad.”
She stood up slowly. “I saved your supper. I will bring it out here.”
“I can get it. In the pantry, is it? And I’ll bring you some…tea?”
“Coffee,” she murmured. She sank back onto the chair. “Good and strong.”
The screen door swished shut behind him. Sometimes he hated that calmness she had. It’d be a hell of a lot easier if she laid into him, like most wives would.
He found the plate of potato salad and sliced beef waiting for him under a damp tea towel in the coolest part of the pantry. On his way out, he juggled two mugs of coffee from the blue speckleware pot on the stove and pushed open the screen door with his knee. Lord, the night smelled good—earth and the pungent scent of pine trees.
“Teddy has finished his supper,” she said. Thad handed over her coffee and settled himself uneasily on the straight-back dining chair beside her.
“Where is he now?”
A ghost of a smile flitted across her mouth. “Up in his loft, reading the last chapter of Ivanhoe.”
Thad raised his brows. “I’ll be damned.”
“Remember, I stopped reading it aloud just before the joust between Ivanhoe and Front de Boeuf. Teddy wants to see how it ends.”
Thad heaved a sigh and forked potato salad into his mouth. “You’re a good teacher, Leah. You know how to prick a boy’s interest. To be honest, I don’t remember where you left off reading.”
“You missed a great many chapters, Thad.”
“Yeah, guess I have.” He knew she was referring to more than Ivanhoe, but right now he didn’t feel up to tackling the real issue.
“After I left town I couldn’t stop thinking about that damn wheat. Just couldn’t get it out of my mind.”
Leah nodded and sipped her coffee. “You have missed many things because of it.”
“Yeah, I have to admit that.” From the unsmiling line of his wife’s lips, he guessed he’d missed a lot more than he realized.
Something had changed. She was different, somehow. Almost…what? Not angry, just…distant.
Well, sure she is, you damn fool. You haven’t been close to her in weeks. But he’d thought about her. There were nights in the barn when he’d wanted her so much he’d counted the hours until daylight. But something clawing at him in the dark had held him back.
He still dreamed of Leah. Even now, just the scent of her hair floating on the balmy air made him close his eyes with longing.
Leah leaned forward to set her coffee mug down on the porch. “What about your wheat, Thad?”
Her voice, low and controlled, sent a shiver of premonition through him. He hunched over his still-warm coffee.
“Have you ever thought about what that field really represents to you?”
“Well, sure. I knew it was a gamble from the beginning. I’m known hereabouts as a successful rancher, so growing wheat was a challenge. A matter of pride, too, I guess.”
“I think it is more than that,” she said quietly. “I think something is twisted around in your mind, that your wheat field represents some kind of control you want over your future.”
He could think of nothing to say. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “Nah. Growing wheat is an experiment. This land is prime wheat country.”
“That may be true,” she replied. “But there is still more to it.”
His shirt collar began to chafe his neck. “What more is there?”
She waited a long minute before answering. “I think it is all mixed up with losing your wife. I think you are afraid it might happen again.”
For a moment he couldn’t draw breath. “You’re way off track, Leah. Besides, what’s that got to do with my wheat? I’m just a man trying to do his best for his family.”
“You don’t want to think about it, I know. Or about me. So you think about your wheat field.”
