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Suddenly Leah felt cold all over. Tears blinded her. She bent her head so Teddy would not see, and a wave of clarity washed over her, as if a bucket of ice-cold spring water had been dumped on her brain.
She slammed her open hand against the wooden churn and the paddle whooshed to a stop. This marriage might not be important to Thad, but it was important to her—more important than anything else.
She lifted her arm, closed her fingers around the wooden handle and again started to churn. They would need butter for breakfast. But after breakfast, she must decide what to do.
She had two choices: live the rest of her life like Mrs. Sorensen…or leave.
But she must do something—anything—to avoid simply giving up.
Thad lifted his head from the bed he’d made in the straw and sniffed the air. Coffee! What the…He crawled to the edge of the hay-filled loft and looked down.
The barn door stood wide open, admitting a swath of sunshine that reached to his ladder, and in the middle of it stood Leah, her straight black hair gleaming in the light. In one hand she gripped a mug of coffee and in the other she balanced a plate of…flapjacks! Lord bless her!
“Thad?” she called, her voice uncertain.
“Up here. In the loft.”
She tipped her head up. “I brought you some breakfast.”
“Well, thanks, Leah. I’ll come down.” He descended the ladder, and at the bottom, turned to face her.
She hadn’t moved. Her eyes met his and a fist began to pummel his gut. Jumping jennies, all he had to do was look at her and he wanted to fold her into his arms.
“Leah—”
She didn’t let him finish. “I brought coffee, strong like you prefer it.”
Thad moved toward her. “That’s darn nice of you, Leah.”
“I am doing what I can,” she said, her voice so soft he could barely hear it. “I am trying to be a good wife.”
Oh, Lord. She looked small and defenseless, and his heart was doing somersaults. He clenched his teeth so hard his jaw hurt.
Leah was like no other woman he’d ever known—delicate and resilient at the same time. He prayed it was the resilient side he was seeing now.
“Thad.” She looked up at him, her face calm but her eyes suspiciously shiny. “Tomorrow I would like you to eat breakfast at the house. With Teddy and me.”
He wanted to. Wanted to watch her flitting about the kitchen, humming the way she always did. But something dark and heavy inside kept him from agreeing.
“I…I’ll try, Leah.” He cringed at the lie.
“I do not believe you,” she said quietly. “I do not believe that you want to be with us. With me.”
Something in his chest tightened, then started to crack apart. He couldn’t lie to her again.
“I do want to be with you.”
She tried to smile. “But no matter what you say, you are not with me. And the way you avoid me…well, it tells me something.”
“Yeah? What?” He didn’t want to hear this. He wanted to tramp away from her, over the pasture to his wheat field, but he couldn’t leave it—her—like this.
Her smile faltered. “It tells me that…that our marriage does not matter to you.”
His stomach plunged toward his boots. “Leah, believe me, it does matter. It matters so much that I—” His voice went hoarse.
He had to get out of here, away from her small, honest face and the anguish in her eyes.
She didn’t say a word, just waited.
He shifted from foot to foot. “I guess we need to talk this through, huh?”
Very slowly, she bent her neck in a nod.
He drew in a shaky gulp of air. “Leah, you think there’s enough potato salad left over for supper on the porch tonight? Together?”
Her gaze locked with his and again she tried to smile. “I think so.”
Suddenly Leah wanted to wrap her arms around him, ease the worry lines deepening in his forehead. In his eyes there was an anguish that tightened her throat into an ache. She knew she loved this man, but she had not realized how deeply until this moment.
Thad MacAllister had won her admiration from the first hour she had spent on his ranch, watching him wrestle the sewing machine up the porch steps. And oh, the expression on his face that first night when he’d looked down at the plate of chow fun.
But did he care about her? She remembered his boyish hunger the night he had made love with her, his strength and gentleness. She remembered his look of pride and concern when she had tumbled off the mare and then finally managed to ride it to the pasture fence and back.
Her feelings for Thad went bone-deep, and nothing, nothing, would ever change them. But what about his feelings?
“I am riding into town this morning, Thad. I want to see how the vote on Uncle Charlie’s bakery came out, and whether he is all right.”
