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He’d thought a lot about Betsey in the time it took to try and find Morning Dove’s people and even more time to think on it when they got stranded during the worst of the winter snows and all he’d come up with was, apologize for running out on her and see where he stood. He figured she’d be fighting mad at him and he’d accepted the possibility. He’d held no illusions about any sort of future with her, either, no matter how bad he wanted to. He’d thought about it, but nothing more. It was hard to plan for a future with someone who you assumed hated you so he hadn’t dwelled on it in an attempt to keep from driving himself crazy thinking about it all the time. Now though? Now—he had a son and a responsibility to take care of him. And Betsey, as mad and hurt as she was, still looked at him like she always had. Like he was something special. Like he was someone worthy of her. And he wasn’t. He knew it deep down in his soul he didn’t deserve her or Samuel. They both deserved someone better than him.
“I know you’ll do the right thing, Aaron.”
His mother was still by the sink looking at him, that same understanding look in her eyes she always had. “What if the right thing isn’t what she wants?”
She shrugged and gave him a sad smile. “Then you’ll just have to accept her decision and do what you can. You don’t have to live with her to be a father to your son.”
He stared at her for long minutes, her words whispering through his head again before he pushed off the wall he wasleaning on, crossed to where she stood and kissed her on the top of her head. “Thanks, ma.”
“What are you going to do?”
He turned and headed out of the kitchen. “What any decent man would do.” He turned and smiled at her. “I’m going to ask her to marry me.” He grabbed his hat from the peg in the wall and slipped it on. “I’ll be late getting in this evening so if I’m not back in time for supper, start without me.”
With the lastof the breakfast dishes washed and put away, Betsey filled the water bucket and set it on the stove to heat. Seemed as if all she did was laundry now. Every day was spent washing, cooking and cleaning, and by evening time, she had to do it all over again. It was barely eight in the morning and she was already exhausted.
Filling the stove with more wood to make the water heat faster, she pulled the kitchen chair out and sat down, then blew out a breath, her muscles finally starting to relax.
Then someone knocked on the front door.
She sighed and stared at the door as if she could see through it. There were only so many possibilities as to who was standing out on her porch and most of them made her want to ignore their knocking in hopes they’d go away. If they wouldn’t eventually wake Samuel, she’d do just that.
She crossed the room and opened the door, the dread she’d felt at the first knock turning into exhausted weariness as she looked up at Aaron. As much as she didn’t want to do this today, she knew he wouldn’t go away.
Not bothering to invite him in, she went back to the kitchen. She heard the door shut a moment later. Keeping her back to him, she watched the water on the stove steam, a few bubbles rolling on the surface.
One of the kitchen chairs slid across the floor, then groaned and popped a bit as Aaron sat down. He never said a word but she could feel his stare on the back of her head like a living thing.
She opened the back door and stepped out on the tiny porch and grabbed the small tub she used for washing clothes and carried it back inside, sitting it in the sink. She tossed in Samuels soiled clothing and sprinkled a bit of the dried soap over them. When the water was boiling, she poured it in and gave it all a stir with a long-handled spoon.
Aaron still hadn’t said a word. She finally turned and looked at him. He was watching her with an unreadable look on his face. Sitting back down in the chair she’d sat in earlier, she stared back at him. Neither one said a word for long minutes, both of them just staring at the other. Betsey hadn’t noticed the night before how tired he looked. Now she did and it wasn’t just a lack of sleep. His eyes were a bit bloodshot but it was the small lines around his eyes and mouth that made him look worn down.
He shifted in his seat and said, “I was going to bring Morning Dove to meet you but she wasn’t feeling well.”
The mention of the girl’s name brought out a mix of bitter resentment and profound sadness. “Why would I want to meet her?”
“Because she needs a friend.”
She felt like a jackass for thinking ill of the girl now. She knew nothing about her but was determined to hate her for no other reason than she was with Aaron. She looked at the table and sighed. “How’d you two meet?” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to take them back. She didn’t want to hear intimate details about them. Aaron didn’t say anything and Betsey thought maybe he’d spare her the details after all but it was short lived.
He cleared his throat and said, “The old man who claimed her for his wife was beating the hell out of her for speaking to me on the sidewalk and I shot him.”
Her head snapped up. “You shot him?” He nodded as if it wasn’t anything to be concerned with. “Did you kill him?”
“No. I doubt I’d be sitting here telling you about it if I had. The marshal questioned me and invited me to leave town, so I did.”
“And the girl—Morning Dove?”
“She asked me to help her get out of town since the old man was laid up with a bullet. Getting mixed up in someone else’s squabble wasn’t on my list of things to do but all the bruises on her face made me change my mind.”
He spent the next half hour telling her how they lit out before the sun came up over the mountain and headed east to try and find her people. The old man had come upon her with her parents when she was barely twelve so she couldn’t remember exactly where they were. She remembered Walter and his friend’s killing her parents and taking her, though.
They searched every place Morning Dove could remember her tribe being but never found them. She had nowhere else to go but back to Silver Falls, which she didn't want to do, so he’d brought her here to start over.
Betsey was trying to ignore the fact that Aaron and Morning Dove had spent the worst of winter in an abandoned cabin alone together when Samuel started to cry. She left Aaron at the table and hurried to her room. Samuel had soiled himself, naturally. As if she didn’t have enough to wash already.
As she changed him, she wondered what to do about Aaron. He wasn’t here to talk about Morning Dove or to sit quietly at the table and stare at her. He was there to see his son and as badly as she wanted to deny him the privilege for no other reason than spite, she cuddled Samuel against her chest and carried him into the other room.
Aaron was kneeling by the fireplace, poking at the logs before adding another. When he stood and brushed his hands off, her throat closed up as he stared at Samuel. She held him a bittighter. Since the day he was born, he’d been hers and hers alone. With Aaron here—
