She glanced at the double door.
“I’m sorry.” He had to get at the heart of what he wanted to say before she ran off. “Sorry for the other night and getting carried away with—well, you know . . .” He pointed his finger back and forth between them, hoping she’d catch his meaning.
She watched him, her eyes rounding further. “You’re sorry you kissed me?”
“Yep.” He breathed out a sigh, but it caught in his throat at the dismay that flashed across her pretty features. “I mean, nope. Nope, I ain’t sorry about the—” Again he waved his finger between them. “Ain’t never gonna be sorry for that.”
She placed the pails on the ground on either side of her and cocked her head. No doubt he sounded like a blathering idiot. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m mighty sorry for rushing you. I meant what I said on our wedding day—that I ain’t a brute and won’t be pushing you for anything you’re not ready for.” The words tumbled out awkwardly, and he shifted the shovel around, needing something to do with his hands.
After a moment, her shoulders sagged. “You don’t need to apologize, Wyatt. You’re not rushing or pushing me.”
His head snapped up. “I’m not?”
It was her turn to duck her head. “No. I’m not sorry about kissing you either.”
The heavy load he’d been carrying seemed to slip from his back. His chest felt suddenly lighter, as though he could breathe again.
She started twirling a lock of hair around one of her fingers. It was a nervous habit she had, one that was endearing.
He braced the shovel against the stall with the sudden intense hankering to hug her. Even as he took a step forward, he hesitated. “If you ain’t mad about the uh—kisses”—his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat—“then why are you avoiding me?”
She wound the strand around her finger higher before unraveling and starting again. She opened her mouth and started but then stopped. Finally, she dropped her hand. “Astrid and I are only going to be a burden to you once your family comes. And I don’t want that, Wyatt. I really don’t.” The anguish in her tone spoke of past hurts that had yet to find healing.
This time he crossed to her, praying she wouldn’t bolt. As he reached her, he lifted a hand and touched the same silky pieces she’d just been fiddling with. “Listen, you and Astrid are my family now too.”
“But you didn’t have to take us in.” Her voice was still raw. “You did it because you’re a good and kindhearted man who was trying to help out and do the right thing.”
Her words pricked at the guilt he’d tucked far away. He’d gotten good at stashing it into the back corners of his mind and telling himself that his deal with Steele didn’t really matter. That if he’d known then what he knew about Greta now, he’d have dropped to his knees and proposed to her on the spot that first night he saw her.
“You’re already working so hard to make ends meet, and you’ll have to work harder when you start to support your brothers and sister.”
He stroked her hair back. “We’ll make do—”
“Even with the addition on the cabin, there won’t be enough room. We’ll be short on plates and cups, and we’ll have to stretch the food—”
“We’ll figure it all out. Might not be easy, but together we’ll make it work.”
Her brows furrowed.
He stroked at the worry lines on her forehead. “If anyone can make it work, you can. You’re one of the smartest people I know.”
Her features softened. “You think so?”
“Yep. You’ve got a real good sense for business, better than anyone I know.”
“Now you’re just flattering me.”
“No way. Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” He reached to pull her into his arms, but she took a step back and braced a hand against his chest.
“There’s one more thing.” Her brow wrinkled again.
He slipped his arms around her anyway, fitting his hands at the small of her back and drawing her closer, intending to break down her resistance and prove that nothing else mattered except her.
At his touch, her hand dropped away from his chest, and she relaxed into him.
He enveloped her more completely, tucking her head under his chin. This was what he wanted, and he could go on holding her like this all night.
“I’m taking Astrid to Denver,” she mumbled against him.
The air seized in his lungs. “What?”
“Please try to understand, Wyatt.” She started to tremble in his arms. “She’s not getting better here, so I have to try the hospital in Denver, the one known for helping people with consumption.”
“She’s better today.” His voice held a note of desperation, but he didn’t care. A part of him had known her leaving was coming, and now that it was here, he didn’t want to face it.
“For today, but what about tomorrow?”
He followed her reasoning. Astrid wasn’t improving. Lately, the girl was having more bad days than good ones. But, blast it all, that didn’t mean they had to leave, did it?
Greta pulled away, and he didn’t stop her. “I’d like to go before the snow in the mountains makes travel impossible.” She hugged her arms around her middle but still shook.
His muscles tensed with the need to hold her close. But hadn’t he promised he’d let her go if things didn’t work out for her on the ranch? He couldn’t go back on his word no matter how much he might want to.
And yet, if she cared about him—as she seemed to—maybe they didn’t have to let the separation be permanent. Maybe they could figure out a way to stay together.
“I’ll take you and Astrid to Denver. We’ll go together and stay there until she’s better.”
“No, you can’t. You’re needed here. There’s so much that has to be done before your family comes.”
She was right, but he didn’t know how to wrap his mind around letting her go. “Judd’ll take care of things over the winter, and I’ll hire someone to help him.”
She didn’t reply except to bite her lip, knowing as well as he did they didn’t have a single cent extra to hire on help.
He didn’t want to lose Greta. Maybe he’d once been hesitant about taking her for a bride. But now that he had her, he wasn’t willing to give up without a fight. He was falling in love with her, for crying-in-the-rain. Did he dare tell her that?
“Wyatt!” Judd called from the corral. “We’ve got visitors.”
He had half a mind to tell Judd to inform their guests he wasn’t home, but the low warning in the older man’s tone set him on edge.
He squared off with Greta. “We ain’t through talking about this.”
“I refuse to let Astrid and me be a burden to you.” She straightened her shoulders.
“It’s Brawley and his men,” Judd said more urgently.
Wyatt’s hand went to his pistol at his belt as he strode over to the rack on the wall where he kept his rifle. What did Brawley want? It couldn’t be good. It never was.
“Get on,” Judd said to Astrid as he deposited her into the barn doorway. The girl was concentrating on holding the wiggling pup and didn’t seem to notice the seriousness of the situation.