Page 14 of A Letter to Carolina
“If there are extras, I might take one to town.”
“What are you doing today, Nathaniel?”
“I thought I’d see if Carolina wanted to spend the day together.”
“Before you head back to town.” Aunt Cleo had been supportive of his move, but there was a touch of sadness in her voice. He could only assume he’d feel the same when he had children old enough to move out.
“Yes. I’ll follow you tomorrow morning when you go to church. Afterward, I’ll go back to my apartment. Perhaps we could pack lunch and you all could join me for the meal before you head back?” he asked hopefully.
“I’d like that. Then we can make plans to help you with things you need.”
“The mercantile is across the street.”
Aunt Cleo straightened and her lips firmed. “Is Rose Arden going to make your wedding quilt? Curtains? Things that might make your house a home?”
Her words humbled him. “No, ma’am.”
“I didn’t think so. The kettle is ready.”
Nate fetched the kettle, filling her teapot before returning the kettle to the stove.
“Are you going to marry her?” She broke her biscuit open and added jam before meeting his watchful gaze. “Because if you aren’t, I know Ingrid will have her married off before she can get on the next stage to Grand Platte.”
“Beau was telling me about this thing called a marriage of convenience. If she accepts my offer, we could see if the Reverend would marry us after services. Carolina would take one room, and I would keep my own. We would be married in name until we are both ready for it to be more.”
Emily sauntered into the room, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “What if she says no? Or the reverend says no?” She moved toward the cupboard, rubbing her belly.
“I considered talking to Mrs. Hardin about renting a room in her upstairs apartment as temporary lodging. She reserves it for women who are waiting to get married, so I thought it might be a good option.”
“Ooooh!” A half shriek sounded behind him, and Nate hid his smile behind his coffee.
“Good morning, Em. Did you need something?” He half turned in his chair.
“Someone moved the pickles, and I cannot reach them!”
“Hm. That is a problem.” He saw Aunt Cleo’s eyes crinkle as she tried not to laugh. “How about you go get me Carolina’s letter and I’ll move a jar down.”
“You did this? Why would you do that?” Her hands fisted at her sides for a moment, and a flutter of guilt rose in his chest.
“I wanted to make sure I caught you when you were awake. Please go get the letter and I will put them back.”
Emily stomped out of the kitchen. As she climbed the stairs, Nate could hear her angry footsteps echoing through the house.
Tiny chuckles bubbled up out of Aunt Cleo. “You are either a very smart boy or a very dumb man.”
“I’m aware. She also promised not to surprise me, and this arrival was almost worse than Simon’s. At least he knew there was a letter going out with his name on it.”
Nate pulled three jars of pickles down, leaving the others up high enough that perhaps Bass would benefit from it.
“Here.” Emily stomped back into the room, smacking his arm with the envelope before snagging the jar he’d opened for her. She shoved a pickle in her mouth on her way to the table. “Aunt Cleo, when are you going to teach me how to make these?”
“Jesse pulled the pickling cucumbers last week. Have Bass show you the recipe this afternoon. It will be good for you two to spend some time together.”
The sound of the front door closing pulled Nate towards the big room, as Emily’s loud voice echoed in the kitchen. “That man knows how to make these?!”
Spending the day on the ranch, away from Bass and Emily, seemed to become a better idea with each passing moment.
Palming the letter, he picked up his coffee and moved to the front porch. Nate considered his plans as he looked out at everything coming awake. He’d been serious when Emily arrived, and he said that if Bass hadn’t claimed her, he would. Georgia was different. Although she was a pretty woman, there was no attraction there.
