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She clearly couldn’t take hints as easily as everyone else in his acquaintance. He’d been sure he gave her a look that told her to turn around and leave when she’d surprisingly returned to the barn. Then again, maybe he’d given her mixed commands.
All day, he’d thought of nothing but Alice. How her eyes narrowed slightly when she smiled. How her shoulders drew back with pride when she stood up to him. How those same shoulders dropped to a narrow waist that probably fit his hands perfectly. Blast him, he was in deep.
She didn’t say a word as he made his way slowly through the supper she’d brought for him. When he finished that, he nursed the water to the last drop. Once he’d finished, he’d have to speak to her. Leaving without saying a word would be rude. Not that he’d ever let that stop him in the past. He wasn’t a brute anymore, was he?
He considered his actions since returning. Perhaps he had been brusque. But it was for her benefit. Every morning he’d woken with hope, which was dashed the moment he looked in the mirror and recalled himself. When would God remove that hope so he could justbe? Waking every morning with a renewed sense of purpose only to be reminded of his inabilities was like having one foot continually in purgatory.
He'd told Gideon when to feed the dog and Gideon had told him he wouldn’t have time for such fussing. Alice would do it. The mere suggestion that, if he returned to Johlman ranch in the early morning or before he laid his head down to sleep he could see Alice, had propelled his thoughts all day long.
Conrad Oleson hadn’t noticed his distraction, thank the Lord. He’d been able to examine the sick cattle and make the recommendation that he keep them separate from the rest of the herd and give them as much hay as they would take to keep their strength up. He’d also told Conrad to give them some mash, since it was rich in nutrients and should help them improve.
Perhaps because of his distraction, he’d been unable to formulate a diagnosis though. Nothing he’d seen matched with what he knew unless the animals were being poisoned. Yet, the poisons he knew of that weren’t maliciously given with intent, didn’t have the effects this did. And he knew of no indigenous plant the animals could eat that might cause the reaction, either.
“Are you in need of anything else?” Alice gathered the basket and jar he’d set aside and pulled it to her lap.
“No, thank you. I’m no company tonight. I have a mystery to solve at the Oleson ranch, one that could affect ours if it can spread.”
“I don’t know the first thing about cattle, but if you need to talk anything through, I’m told my ears work just fine.”
Her ears and everything else about her. He stopped himself from speaking or reaching for her hand as he’d like. He’d removed his riding gloves to examine the puppy, and he’d been recalling just how soft the skin was between her fingers. Was it still so now that she’d worked outside?
“I think I may be too tired tonight to make sense of anything that flows from my mouth.” Or hers. He could swear she’d indicated she’d enjoyed looking at him just before she’d left to gather his meal.
That could not be. He wouldn’t believe it. His peers, intellectuals all of them, versed in medicine and helping the sick, had told him he had no business being in medicine because of his face. How could shewantto look at him? How could she everenjoysuch an endeavor? Lies. His mind was lying to him and he wouldn’t allow it.
Alice gave him a small frown, then did the impossible. She reached over and gathered his hand where it lay against his thigh and wove her fingers through his. He held his breath, hoping against hope that he wasn’t dreaming. Her hand was still the softest thing he’d ever experienced. More supple than any other.
“Kent, you need rest. You can’t help anyone unless you allow yourself time to eat and sleep. You do neither Colby, nor Mr. Oleson any good if you’re worn thin.” She pressed his hand slightly, then released it.
He didn’t want to let go, so he hesitated in releasing her. If he pretended he was a thoughtless, unfeeling lout for just a moment longer, telling himself he didn’t feel the exact moment the tension of her fingers released, he could pretend she wanted to keep him close longer.
She’d changed. No doubt about it. But she was still utterly sweet and, even in her biting words, completely honest. Which meant his heart was in grave danger. She would eventually tell him the truth. She would eventually, by virtue of her honesty, have to tell him that seeing his face turned her stomach.
Her kindness would war with her honesty, and he couldn’t have that. He couldn’t make her say what she would be loath to. How could he call himself a man and make her live as a slave to her sweetness at the expense of her honesty? Only to finally hear the truth from her lips, which would gut him.
If five years could separate them, not to mention the distance, and his heart still cried for no other woman but Alice, he was doomed. He would love her until the day he died. He released his hold on her hand and stood, then quickly offered it again to help her to her feet.
She smiled her thanks, and once on her feet, stalled, staring up at him. In that moment, he realized she could see his face, though he’d been certain the shadows of the barn were deep enough. He saw no fear, just questions.
Those, he couldn’t answer. If he told her what he’d been through, she’d pity him and that would be worse than hatred. Pity covered love and spoiled it. Once one pitied, the receiver would never know if the giver was merely doing for them out of charity or affection. Pity would taint any kindness, and he never wanted to see it on her face.
“I should go.” He stepped back, breaking the spell her gaze had cast over him. Yanking the bandana over his face, he felt immediately more at ease under the cover. He dug in his pocket, slipping a Nyal tablet under his bandana to sooth his stomach.
Alice sighed softly and nodded her agreement. “It is late. When will I see you tomorrow?”
He half hoped she would argue with him about the mask, but perhaps she’d given up on him. Why didn’t that sit well with him? “I’ll come in the morning, after the feeding. I can watch him then. Though, if he’s like most puppies, he’ll sleep right after he eats.”
“He doesn’t do much else right now.” She looked down at Colby with such tenderness. The softness took his breath from his lungs. How he ached to be the recipient of that look.
Shaking the notion from his head, he strode from the barn. Tenderness was not his lot. Fear and suspicion were. People were always curious about how he could’ve gotten such a wound to his face. Was he kicked as a child? He never answered their questions. His past was none of their business.
His horse waited for him just outside the barn, and he recalled the cookies still in his saddlebag. He drew them out and unwrapped them, then turned as Alice followed him. He handed her one and the napkin she’d given him earlier. “You provided supper and dessert.”
She giggled. “Mrs. Eliza provided both.” She took a nibble, and her lips turned up in a grin. “You really should try them.”
He gave in and nibbled the cookie under his bandana. While he’d never been much for sweets, he could get used to those. The molasses, or whatever she’d used, melted over his tongue and he immediately wished he could push the whole thing into his mouth.
Alice took another bite, then laid her hand on his arm. “Thank you for coming back. I’ll see you in the morning.”
