Page 66 of The Heart’s Charge

All right. So maybe the chiding look had nothing to do with the bridge.

“Better with me than on her own, don’t you think?” Mark kept his voice affable, but that didn’t fool Jonah. His eyes glared his displeasure as hotly as before.

Apparently his tone didn’t fool Kate either, for she placed a warning hand on his forearm. “Perhaps we can discuss this later?” She glanced meaningfully at the two youngsters still sitting at the table.

Unfortunately, the kids caught the look and understood exactly what it meant. Alice jumped from her seat and jabbed a finger in Mark’s direction. “You promised! Wart’s been gone for days. We gotta find him. I gotta find him, and if you won’t help me, I’ll do it myself.”

Mark was sorely tempted to toss Jonah an I-told-you-so look, but Alice needed his attention more than he needed satisfaction. So he set his fork down and leveled a stare at the girl. “I gave you my word, Alice, and I won’t go back on it.”

“You won’t have to.” This came from Eliza, the last person Mark expected to enter the fray. “And you won’t have to take Alice out searching either.”

Mark swiveled to give the teacher his full attention. She knew something. Something so big, she looked ready to burst from it.

“I know who took Wart.”

Jonah’s head snapped toward her. “And you’re just telling us this now?”

She glared at him with such vexation that Mark would have chuckled had he not been so keen to hear what she had to say.

“Because I just found out.”

“When? During your trip to Tildy’s house?” Jonah tried the raised brow on Eliza, but she was having none of it.

“It was at Tildy’s house, if you must know.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake, Eliza,” Kate exclaimed. “Who is it?”

Eliza turned away from Jonah to face the table at large. “Miguel Ortega. Fern recognized his description. She said he’d worked a couple of summers for her husband, and he wore black nearly every day.”

Miguel Ortega. The name clicked in Mark’s mind. “I heard that name at the saloon too. Along with a handful of others. Men willing to set scruples aside to take on a job if the money was good enough.”

“Fern wasn’t too fond of him. Said he made her uncomfortable.” Eliza twisted back to face Jonah. “She also said he hailed from Honey Creek.”

Jonah met Mark’s gaze, his face as soft as a rock. “Looks like we’re goin’ huntin’ tomorrow.”

Mark nodded. “Indeed.”

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SEVEN

Katherine took her time with the dishes, extending the chore to its maximum duration. Mark and Jonah remained in the dining room talking strategy, and Eliza had all the children except Abner upstairs. Abner had gone out to the front porch to keep watch while the men plotted and schemed. Things had been quiet, so no one actually expected him to spot any trouble, but he’d been uneasy after dinner and had volunteered for the duty.

Katherine didn’t blame him for wanting some time alone to think. The dishwater had turned her hands to prunes with the tortoise-like pace she’d set, but it offered an excuse to ponder things without the distraction of the children. Her excuse held as much water as a big-eye colander, but it sufficed. Or it would for a few more minutes. She was down to drying her last two pots.

The men’s murmuring was too low for proper eavesdropping, but that was probably for the best. Hearing their plan would likely increase her anxiety, not relieve it. Still, she’d wanted to stay close. To Mark.

He’d asked her to marry him. Again. Oh, how she wanted to say yes. Her heart ached with the desire. But she’d made a vow to God and the children of Harmony House. She couldn’t just run away with the man she loved and leave those commitments behind.

What do I do, Lord? You brought him back to me, but for what purpose? To test my resolve or to restore our lost love?

How did one decipher God’s will when multiple paths seemed viable?

They had time to figure things out, she reminded herself as she placed the thrice-dried baking dish on the shelf and reached for the upended saucepan—the last item waiting for a swipe of the dish towel. Mark had only proposed a few hours ago. And kissed her with enough passion to leave her heart sizzling long after his lips departed. Her eyes slid closed as she hugged the pan to her chest. She pressed her lips together. Remembering. Reliving.

I love him, Lord. So much. But I want to love you more. Show me how.

A burning bush or wet fleece would certainly come in handy. She glanced down at the damp spots on her bodice where she’d clung to the pan. Too bad her dress was made of cotton instead of wool. Katherine shook her head, blowing air from her nose in a silent snort. She was such a ninny.