Page 56 of Brian and Cora
"It's my opinion as someone who's come to—" She caught herself before saying something revealing. "As your friend."
"Are we friends?" The question seemed to surprise him as much as her.
"I'd like to think so. We've shared books and stories, conversations and comfortable silences. We've watched Jewel and Sassy Girl play until we're all exhausted from laughing. If that's not friendship, I don't know what is."
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I suppose when you put it that way..."
"Besides," Cora added, trying to lighten the moment, "only a friend would put up with your growling and stubbornness without throwing something at you." She stood and crossed back to the desk for his crutches, taking them to lay next to his chair. Once again, she sat down.
"I believe you've threatened that once or twice."
"Only with pillows. And I was teasing. And you deserved it."
“’Spose I did.”
They lapsed into companionable silence. Through the windows, they watched the setting sun turn molten, painting the sky and the reflections on the lake in shades of gold and amber.
"Thank you," Brian said suddenly.
"For what?"
"For understanding. For not pushing. For—" He gestured vaguely to his leg. "For everything."
Warmth bloomed in her chest. "You're welcome."
“My leg is better, really it is. After sitting at that desk, though—” his tone lightened “—the rest of my body might be a bit twisted.”
“Why don’t you try writing at the table? There’d be space for your leg and the footstool underneath.”
“Good thinking.” He eased back in his chair and sent her an unexpectedly charming smile. “Worth a try.”
Three more days. The thought whispered through Cora’s mind like an unwelcome guest. Three more days of this easy companionship, these quiet moments, a sense of belonging she'd never expected to find in a cabin by a mountain lake.
Cora pushed the melancholy thoughts away. Three days was three days. She'd make the most of them and deal with the leaving when it came. For now, she had a patient to tend, a friend to support, and supper to prepare.
And if her heart ached a little at the thought of returning to town, well, that was something she'd examine later. Much later. Perhaps never.
"I should start supper," she said, not moving.
"In a minute," Brian said softly. "The sunset's not quite finished."
So they sat and watched the light fade over the water.
CHAPTER 17
Two days later, a knock at the door interrupted Cora's attempt to coax Brian into eating, rather than picking at, lunch. He'd been surly all morning, snapping at her suggestions and glowering at his empty pages as if they'd personally offended him.
"I'll see who it is," she said, not bothering to hide her relief at the interruption.
Anna Swensen stood on the porch, her thin face pink from the walk, a brown paper package in her hands. "Good afternoon, Cora. My Inga picked this up at the depot yesterday. She's been checking after school like you asked."
"Oh, how wonderful!" Cora accepted the package eagerly. "Won't you come in?"
Anna glanced over her shoulder. "Just for a moment. I left the younger ones with Inga, but she'll need help with dinner soon."
They stepped inside, where Brian nodded at Mrs. Swensen, and then pointedly ignored them, hunching over the blank paper on the table and making the atmosphere uncomfortable.
"Would you like some tea?" Cora offered, her tone determinedly cheerful. "It'll only take a moment to heat."
