Page 34 of A Dangerous Heart
“Won her heart with a pen and paper,” Ed said with a sly wink. Like Isaac hadn’t been the one to talk some sense into him.
As the table quieted, Jo piped up, her words muffled a bit by the cornbread she was chewing. “I bet Clare could win Isaac over with this cornbread. It’s real good.”
Her comment drew a smirk from Ed, but Kaitlyn quickly interjected. “Jo, honestly.”
Jo blinked, unfazed, and reached for another piece. “What? It’s true.”
Another moment of awkwardness settled over the table, thickening the air as Isaac remained silent. This was what he’d warned Clare about—his family assuming a genuine courtship, envisioning a romance unfolding like the one between Ed and Rebekah. He stared blankly at his plate.
Amidst the discomfort, he detected a subtle shift beneath the table—a gentle nudge, the discreet slide of a boot—Clare’s boot—against his.
The meal passed. He left Clare to help with the dishes while the men and boys went to do the evening chores outside. Chores completed, Isaac stepped up to the screen door and was stopped by Kaitlyn’s words to Clare.
“Jo’s right about your cornbread. It is the best I’ve ever tasted. You could start making it to sell or even package it as a mix. I know the general store in town would carry it.” Kaitlyn’s voice rose with excitement. “And the towns near the mines. I have a little money to invest in supplies.”
“That’s generous of you, Kaitlyn, but?—”
Kaitlyn stopped Clare, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder and looking her in the face. “Oh, I’m a businesswoman. I think of it as an investment, not charity.”
“Thank you,” Clare said, bowing her head.
A sudden coldness hit him at his core. He had no doubt Clare could make a go of any business she set her mind to. Guesshe’d grown accustomed to having Clare and the boys around, the shared moments and the routine. He should be breathing easier knowing she wasn’t going to be trapped with him at the cabin for long. So why was he feeling so agitated about her finding a way to support herself and the boys? Wasn’t that what he’d wanted all along—to be rid of them?
Clare listened to the murmur of Ben’s and Eli’s voices as she sipped a cup of coffee after supper. The parlor, dimly lit by the soft glow of an oil lamp, had the warmth of a room well lived in. The walls, lined with wood planks, displayed a few framed photographs along with a painting of the same mountain range that Clare glimpsed every day. The boys were sprawled on a braided rug that lay across the wooden floor, playing checkers with David. Ed and Nick sat on the sofa, Tillie between them. As Clare watched from her place standing near the window, Nick nudged Eli’s boot, perhaps hinting at a move. She couldn’t see his face, but Eli’s hand hovered over the board for a second before he jumped several of David’s checkers and crowed happily.
Jo, coming down the stairs, cheered. Ben beamed when David said something she couldn’t hear. Clare’s heart was full to bursting.
This. Family.
These moments, right now and at supper, encompassed everything she’d dreamed about since she’d been a child herself. She’d never found it. But she desperately wanted to give it to Eli and Ben.
Isaac moved into the room to stand beside her. She couldn’t help the flash of remembrance—his strong hand enfolding hers during the prayer. She shivered.
“We’d better get going,” he said quietly.
She wanted to protest, even though she knew they still faced a long walk back to Isaac’s cabin. She wanted more time with his family.
“Before you go, I’d like to read from the scriptures,” Drew said from the doorway. “I was remembering one of Pa’s favorite passages. Thought it might be good to remind us that Quade has been fighting us since Pa laid down roots here. And we’re still here.”
“‘The Lord bless thee, and keep thee: The Lord make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious to thee: The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace.’”
At the words, Clare felt Isaac tense beside her.
She chanced a peek at Isaac. He stood, his head lifted to the ceiling, his eyes closed, mouth set in a grim line. This man needed peace if anyone did. She prayed that he would find it.
For a few brief moments at supper, she’d seen a glimpse of the man he’d once been. A little freer with his smiles. Loyal, dedicated to his family.
Drew ended his reading with a prayer. Clare threw her shawl around her shoulders, tucked her empty basket in the crook of her arm, and began to herd the boys outside. Isaac joined them, his steps deliberate, almost mechanical. He lifted a hand at the goodbyes called from the porch. The boys ran ahead, Eli carrying a small lantern that flitted like a giant firefly in front of them.
This late in September, the moon was almost full and the night was clear. The lingering scent of wood smoke mingled with the crisp mountain air. Silence stretched between them as the words she longed to say bubbled inside her. Couldn’t she have a few more moments of warmth?
“I didn’t know brothers could be like that, get along,” she said.
She sensed Isaac turn his head, the brush of his glance. Hadn’t meant for the moment of vulnerability to leak out. She couldn’t remember her brothers showing even one moment of kindness. Or a time when they’d been in the same room without quarreling.
“We argued plenty.” Isaac’s statement surprised her. “Especially when we’d catch Nick with his nose in a book when he should have been doing ranch work.” There was quiet affection in Isaac’s voice now.
“Did your pa let him get away with it?”
