Pa stood at the woman’s side. “Where’s Evelyn? Why didn’t you bring her?”
“Hello, Norm. Evelyn isn’t with me today.” She nodded to Amelia. “I heard a young woman was here. Allow me to introduce myself. Mrs. Morrow, Gil’s mother.” She climbed down. “You could say what’s going on here is the talk of the town. How Zach took you home, but now another man is here for you.” She shook her head. “Strange thing, that is.”
“Sobel was here a bit ago offering to court her too. Pa chased him off.” Kat’s voice rang with amusement as she described what happened.
“’Pears I got here just in time.”
In time for what? But Amelia didn’t ask.
Pa circled the wagon, looking into the back. “Evelyn?”
“Poor man.” Mrs. Morrow joined Pa. “She’s not with me today. Come. Invite me in for coffee. It’s a long, dusty drive from town. And that stagecoach ride from the fort is like being scrubbed on a washboard.” She hooked her hand into Pa’s arm and guided him to the house.
When they were seated at the table with fresh coffee in three cups and water in two, Mrs. Morrow turned toward the bunkhouse visible through the window. “How’s my son doing?”
Amelia had no intention of reporting on Gil’s excessive drinking.
“He’s drunk as often as he’s sober.” Apparently, Kat didn’t share Amelia’s hesitation. “And Amelia is going to leave. Marry that Dakota man.” The words might have been bitter medicine, the way she spat them out. “Who’s going to watch Pa and cook meals? I can’t do both, though I’ve tried in the past.”
“Don’t you worry, dearie. I’m here to straighten out Gil. He will do his job if he knows what’s good for him.”
At Mrs. Morrow’s hard tone, Amelia almost felt sorry for the man. Not that he needed to take over cooking, cleaning, and watching Pa. She’d gladly do it. If only Zach would ask.
Minutes later, Mrs. Morrow tipped her cup and swallowed the last of its contents. She pushed to her feet. “I’ll find my son. Thanks for the coffee.”
As the door closed behind her, Kat sprang to the window. “Now comes the fun part.”
Unsure what she meant, Amelia focused on tidying the kitchen. Jacob would soon be here.
Kat’s laughter drew her to the window. Mrs. Morrow emerged from the bunkhouse, emptied three bottles of whiskey on the ground, and called over her shoulder to Gil. He slunk out with a change of clothes and a towel in hand and made his way to the water trough.
“Doesn’t he even get warm water to wash in?” Amelia asked.
“She’ll get him sorted out. Trouble is, he soon returns to his drinking.”
They all turned toward the trail at the rumble of another wagon.
“It’s your farmer.” Kat clearly didn’t approve of the man. She took Poppy’s hand and led her outside. “I’ll keep her so you can concentrate on him.”
Her disgust would have been amusing except Amelia’s insides were tense.Thiswas what she planned when she traveledwest—a marriage of convenience. One that offered her and Poppy stability and acceptance.
Though she had yet to tell Jacob the circumstances of her child’s birth.
She would do that today, and if he found it unacceptable?—
They spent the morning walking across the hills. He told her of his hopes and dreams for his life—a successful farm, a growing family.
It provided the opening she needed.
“I need to tell you about Poppy.” They stopped in a sheltering grove. She relayed how she and Callie had become friends, how Callie had strayed into an unsavory life and come home to have her baby. The words felt stiff and harsh, unlike her relief in telling Zach.
Jacob brushed his hand to her shoulder—the first time he’d touched her. She didn’t draw back, even though it felt strange. They were getting married, and he’d soon have the right to touch her whenever he chose.
“I do not hold Poppy responsible for the choices her mother made. Nor do I consider it anyone else’s business.” His firm response was everything she could ask for.
“Thank you.” The heartfelt words emerged in a whisper. There existed no reason for her not to proceed with wedding plans.
At his suggestion, they turned back to the house, and he spent time getting to know Poppy. Unfortunately, the child clung to Pa.
