Page 25 of Beyond Montana's Sky
He lowered his gaze.What is it about this woman that unmans me?
“You don’t come to church. Or at least, I haven’t seen you there. But surely, you’re familiar with the Bible.”
He glanced at her, bewildered by her veering away from the topic.
“What’s the shortest Bible verse?”
Cai frowned. “Everyone knows that. ‘Jesus wept.’”
“Exactly,” she said with a definitive nod. “We certainly don’t think of the Lord asweak. I can’t imagine the strength it took to face his crucifixion. Jesus wept for the death of his good friend Lazarus. Imagine if he had a beloved sister who’d died?”
Edith was right. Caiknewshe was right. But still, he couldn’t shake the shame of exposing his pain.
She tilted her head. “Tell me about your sister. From the photograph I saw in your parlor, she was younger.”
He had to swallow a lump in his throat before replying. “Younger, by far. I was fifteen. My mother miscarried a few babies between us. One was stillborn. Then came Aurelia, all the more special because of the lost ones.” He smiled, remembering the excitement of his sister’s birth. They’d had a few halcyon days when they’d assumed his mother would recover from the ordeal. His smile faded. “My mother died several weeks later from the complications of childbirth.” He made a fist and tapped the table.
With a shocked sound, Edith reached across and took his hand.
Although surprised by the gesture, Cai allowed her to comfort him, squeezing her hand and not letting go.
“Did your father remarry?”
“He thought of marrying for Aurie’s sake. Went to visit his sisters in Concord. Came home and told me he—” Cai deepened his voice to mimic his father “‘—met a lot of potential wives—pretty women, good women, but not one of them could hold a candle to your mother.’”
He smiled, remembering his parents’ love and continued quoting his pa. “‘Figured I’d rather go to a cold bed with a heart warm from memories than a warm bed with my heart empty.’ He dropped a hand on my shoulder and said, ‘We’ll be the best father and brother a little girl can have.’”
Edith’s expression grew tender. “I have no doubt you were.”
Her words lightened the heaviness in his belly. He wouldn’t have expected Edith Grayson would make him feel comfortable enough to confide in her. “My sister was everything to me. Maybe you think that’s strange.”
“Not at all. I watch my son with my brother’s fiancé’s baby daughter.” She chuckled. “That’s quite a mouthful. After the wedding, I can say, myniece. Ben can officially call hercousin. My son is all that a brother can be to the baby. He adores Charlotte, and she’s not even his blood relation. She adores him right back.”
He gave her a questioning look, wondering how she felt about the children’s bond. “It’ll be hard for your son to leave her.”
“It will be hard for both of us.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
The rest of the evening passed in conversation and, eventually, eating a combination of Mrs. Graves andMormor’sfood. They devoured the oatmeal cookies, teasing one another about who got the next, and the next—a conversation she could never have with a man in Boston, where upper-class women were supposed to eat like birds.
Edith wished she could askMormorfor the recipe. However, to do so would only offend Mrs. Graves, whose cookies were almost, but not quite, as good.
Edith learned Cai had a dry sense of humor, and when he teased a laugh out of her, his eyes danced with amusement. When he grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkled upward. His laughter was rich and warm, making heat curl through her stomach and drawing a smile from her.
To Edith’s surprise, she sometimes found herself bantering back and forth with him—and she’d never been much for banter. For all they’d touched on sorrowful topics earlier, their conversation felt all the more lighthearted from the unspoken awareness of past grief and future separation.
After the meal, they moved the chairs to the front of the fire. The coziness of the cabin, the darkness with only two glows of light from the lamp and the fire, made Edith feel they were in their own cocoon—their real life fuzzy and far away.
The more they talked, the more Edith felt a growing sense of companionship, laced with intimacy. She’d shared more with Cai than she had since earlier in her marriage, and in some cases, more, for she’d not told her husband much about her early life in the West before her parents died, and she and Caleb moved East to live with their relatives. All Nathaniel knew was the Edith of Boston.
The night grew late, and she covered a yawn with her hand. “Oh, excuse me.”
“Bored of me already?” Cai drawled.
I doubt you could ever bore me. Not about to gratify the annoying man with the truth, Edith pressed her lips to hold in a smile.
She stood to get the saddlebagMormorhad sent and brought it over to the table to unpack, the better to see what was inside. She laid out each article on the table—a nightgown and robe, an old-fashioned night cap, heavy woolen stockings, a buttonhook for her shoes, a silver-backed comb, mirror, and brush set, short length of blue ribbon, a washcloth, and soap—from a brief sniff—lavender.
