Page 7 of A Letter to Carolina
“Must have been some deep thoughts you were having.” Doc Mueller laughed, no judgment in his tone.
“I guess you could say I was giving thanks in my own way. You taught me everything I know, and I don’t have the words for that. The way everything’s changing. This was the first opportunity I’ve really had to think about it. I’m rushing to town, exhaustedly letting the horse guide me home in the evenings. Aunt Cleo—”
“Nathaniel, I know that woman has a special place in all your hearts. You boys coddle her, and with the way your parents died, I understand. I’ll watch over her, and eat all of Georgia’s cookies too, don’t you think I won’t. But I’m not going to hover over her either.”
Scout whinnied, and Nate clicked the reins, urging them toward the big house. If they hurried, he should still have time to wash up, and have Emily peek at the advertisement he wanted to put in the papers for a nurse. He’d been thinking about it, almost obsessing over it. Most women in town used Marmee, or June Hardin, if Marmee wasn’t available. If he had someone on staff, they wouldn’t need to send a rider out to the Chapmans or take Mrs. Hardin away from her own family. He also wasn’t averse to taking a nurse as his wife if she didn’t join someone else’s practice.
Laughter bubbled up inside of him.
I know, Lord, I’m ridiculous, but Aunt Cleo says that everything happens in Your time. If you saw fit, then no one could convince me otherwise.
Scout slowed to a walk when they hit the fence line. He knew that he’d soon be in the barn. Even the horse knew the best place to be, was in the barn with the ladies.
When they reached the barnyard, Tater took control of the horses, assuring them he’d settle them all in the barn for the night. Nate noticed a twinkle in his eye but didn’t think to ask what that was about. He and Doc washed at the well and headed into the house.
The sound of a melodic voice Nate didn’t recognize immediately drew his attention.
Chapter Four
Carolina heard the front door open, then close, and breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps Nate Pickett had finally arrived home. The trip to Flat River had been uneventful until a cowboy named Tater met her in town.
The cowboy straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin with pride as he told her that Robert Blume was his given name, but everyone knew him asTater. She scanned the man before her and saw the dust caked on his shirt, jeans, and boots. It was so heavy it looked like enough soil for an entire farm to grow potatoes.
He was very polite, if not a little odd. Carolina was used to dealing withodd,at the psychiatric wing of the hospital. But Tater seemed harmless compared to those patients. He brought her straight to the house, as that is what Mrs. Emily Pickett requested.
And that is where she had been for the past several hours. Sitting in the cramped kitchen with Georgia and Emily as the ladies conversed. Georgia had her chair drawn up close to Emily’s, and they were chatting away while sharing a jar of pickles. The juice sloshed against the sides of the glass as they passed the jar back and forth.
“Would you like a pickle?” Emily asked, wrapping one in a slice of bread slathered with butter.
Carolina shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m not a fan of pickles.”
Emily shrugged and took a bite. “More for me then.”
Carolina turned away and listened to the two women chatter with each other. The conversation was escalating as the women talked over each other, resulting in a jumble of voices and fragmented topics. Carolina’s head spun as their words flew around the room.
She stood and stretched her arms over her head. Glancing at the two women still discussing the virtues of a sour pickle, Carolina popped her head outside the kitchen door and peeked down the hallway. The sight of a well-dressed man stole her breath away. His tanned skin and dark hair with silver woven throughout brought memories flooding back of her grandaddy. The man walked with purpose as he waved on his way to a rocker in the main room. She could see him whispering to the woman Emily called Aunt Cleo.
The other man approached the middle of the room like a panther. He pressed a kiss against Aunt Cleo’s cheek and stalked toward the kitchen. Carolina felt the air leave her lungs as he lifted his head and removed his hat, hanging it on a peg.This must be Emily’s husband.Ducking her head, she returned to the table and resumed shredding the pork that Georgia had asked her to work on.
“Ladies.” His voice rumbled through the air and a warmth bloomed in her chest.
“Nate!” Emily rose to greet him, promptly handing him a new pickle jar. “Can you open this? We need one for dinner.”
He opened the jar with ease and handed it back to her. “Em, if you’re not careful, that baby is going to come out green and sour.”
“That is not true!” Carolina gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes as she watched him shift his attention away from his sister-in-law and onto her. His expression shifted from being filled with playfulness to one of surprise, and his eyebrows shot up as he realized that there was a stranger in his home. He looked at Carolina the same way Emily was looking at the pickles in her hand.
“Of course, it isn’t true,” he stated. “I remember Jesse saying he had this irrational fear I was going to be born orange, for as many carrots as my mother ate when she was pregnant with me. I didn’t come out looking orange at all. Also, I don’t think I know you.” He looked expectantly at first Georgia and then Emily.
A vivid blush spread across Emily’s face, making Carolina question whether they had informed him of her impending arrival. Emily put her jar back on the table, tightening the lid slightly.
“Nate Pickett, this is Miss Carolina Andrews. She arrived on the stagecoach today from Philadelphia.” Emily’s words were slow and measured, each syllable carefully chosen. When she finished speaking, a palpable tension lingered in the air. Carolina couldn’t quite put her finger on what was unspoken, but she sensed it all the same. Despite this, she felt grateful for their hospitality and kindness offered to her so far.
Nate moved around the table and settled in the chair across from her and took the cinnamon roll that Georgia offered him. “Philadelphia? What brings you all the way to Nebraska?”
Emily inclined her head, encouraging Carolina to answer.
She wiped her palms on a cloth napkin before settling her hands in her lap. Looking up, she found Nate studying her intensely, his steel-blue eyes boring into her. Though her heart stammered in her chest, she held his gaze without flinching.
