Page 394 of Conveniently Wed
“Why? That would have made a difference?”
“It would have made me realize that I will never, never be suitable.” Her head swooned, and a wash of weakness flooded her. “This will not do. I should never have agreed. Take me home at once.”
“You are home, Katherine.”
“Take me back to my aunt’s cabin.” Her chest constricted, and tight bands of tension pressed in. “I…I don’t feel well.” She pressed both hands to her temples. Her stomach lurched and growled.
“What have you eaten today? You ate nothing after the service.”
She shook her head, trying to get rid of the fuzziness. “I’ve had…” She couldn’t think of anything. Had she really gone all day without food?
“Just as I thought.” He exited his side of the carriage and hurried around to open her door.
“Come now, you’ll feel much better after we get some food into you.” He held out his hand to steady her as she climbed from the carriage, and he kept an arm tightly around her waist when she got her feet on the ground.
With a sweep of her eyes, she took in the slate roof and five chimneys, smoke curling from three. A quick look to the east assured her that the Massanutten Mountain range still loomed there, rugged and unchanging. Everything else around her felt surreal and disjointed. The lengthening shadows warned that the sun was about to slip behind the distant ridge, and darkness would soon hide that only familiar landmark. She was entering a world completely foreign to her. A chill climbed the ladder of her spine. Against her will, she sagged into his shoulder.
He pulled her close and, with no more fight than a kitten, she allowed the strength of his body to steady her. His warmth permeated the cold that seeped clear through to the bone.
“Abe, tell Delilah I’ll look after supper, and introductions will be made in the morning.” He nodded in Katie’s direction. “This lady needs food now.”
Abe came around to their side of the carriage and smiled at them both. A kindness rested there. “You just get your missus whatever she be needing.”
Mr. Richardson propelled Katie up the steps and through the grand doorway. The entrance, cast in the dim late afternoon light, opened to a sweeping staircase and balconied upper floor. Without giving her time for further inspection, he drew her down a hall into the kitchen.
“Sit, my dear. Sit.” He gently pressed her into a chair beside a scarred wooden table and busied himself at the stove.
Katie gazed around in awe. This one room was almost as big as her aunt and uncle’s whole cabin, but the warmth from thecrackling fireplace and the old beaten up table somehow brought comfort.
She stood. “I should help.” The sudden movement made her head spin, and she swayed against the table.
He was at her side in seconds. “I have it under control. I’ll get you some fruit. It seems to pick me up when I’ve been in the fields too long and not made time to eat.”
She settled back down, and he shrugged out of his formal jacket and rolled up his sleeves. The stark white shirt pulled tight across his broad shoulders and tapered to a lean waist. She averted her eyes to the long row of cooking utensils hanging from a shelf. She shivered at the thought of what that large body would feel like up close.
Distracted by her own weighty thoughts, she jumped when he placed a plate before her.
“Eat.”
Slices of apple and a clump of grapes sat beside a thick wedge of cheese and a hunk of ham on a hearty slice of fresh bread. Her stomach growled and made her realize how hungry she was.
“Thank you,” she said. “I guess I should’ve taken better care. I haven’t felt that hungry as of late.”
He arched one eyebrow before walking to the wood stove. He lifted the lid off a bubbling pot, and a heavenly waft of meat and vegetables filled the room. “Ah, you haven’t lived until you’ve tried Delilah’s stew.”
Katie nibbled on the fruit and took bites of bread and cheese. She was mesmerized by the fact that Mr. Richardson seemed as comfortable in the kitchen as he did on his horse. He swallowed up the room with his presence. Her eyes followed him as he stirred the stew, gathered the bowls, and ladled out two steaming servings.
While he was preoccupied, she took the opportunity to stare. His skin, well-bronzed from the summer sun, indicated that heworked out of doors. Gray hair speckled his temples, giving him a distinguished, mature look. He did not have the facial creases and weathered look her pa had, which left her wondering how old he was.
“Do I pass inspection?” he asked.
Heat flushed from her neck up to her hairline as he turned toward her with two generous bowls of stew. “How old are you, Mr. Richardson?”
He set one of the bowls before her. “Call me by my name and I’ll answer.”
With some food now in her stomach, Katie had a renewed sense of spunk. “I do believe your name is Mr. Richardson, is it not?”
“To you, Katherine, as my wife”—he drew out the last word and pulled up a chair across from her and sat—“I’m Josiah, and I will not respond to anything else. You can decide if this is going to be easy or hard.” He winked and picked up his spoon.
