His beautiful brown eyes studied her face, as if searching for something. His expression was somber but still oh-so-handsome, so much that her heart hurt just looking at him.
As much as he might think he wanted to stay with her, in the long run he’d realize the wisdom of investing in his ranch instead. She had to stay strong and push through her need to throw her arms around him and beg him not to end their marriage.
“This winter you’ll be able to construct the new addition onto the cabin, work on expanding the irrigation ditches, and start building fences in the pastures. By the time summer comes, you’ll be ready for your family and the cattle.” She hoped what she left unsaid came across—that he couldn’t give up all that to be with Astrid and her.
“Let’s just go on home, and we’ll figure it all out there. Please, Greta.”
“I have to speak with Mr. Hallock first.”
Before Wyatt could respond, some of the men who’d been helping search for Astrid approached and wanted to know more details about her condition. As Greta filled them in on the details, she was keenly aware of Wyatt next to her, the way he took off his hat, dug his fingers into his hair, and then expelled a taut breath. Finally, he jammed his hat back on, pivoted, and walked out, letting the door slam behind him.
An ache rose swiftly into Greta’s throat. She’d just cut him loose from his obligation to her and pushed him away. It was for the best, but she resisted the urge to run after him and tell him she didn’t want to lose him.
“Miss Nilsson?” A man cleared his throat.
She forced her attention back to the conversation at hand to find that Phineas had approached her. He was twisting at the buttons on his vest. Already stretched to the limit, the buttons looked as if they would pop off at any moment.
“Mr. Hallock,” she said as graciously as she could, finding that she was almost peering down at him since he was a good two inches shorter than her five-feet-five inches. While he’d mentioned that he wasn’t a tall man, she hadn’t expected to stand above him.
“I do apologize for my delay,” he said with a squeak.
What could she say, especially after all that had transpired over the past three months since her arrival in Fairplay?
With the others pushing in around them and growing louder, she glanced at the door. “Perhaps we could step outside to talk?”
“Indeed, indeed.” He bolted to the door and held it open for her. As she exited, her heart dropped. Wyatt had already unloaded the beef from her horse and was gone, with no sign of him or his steed anywhere along Main Street.
For a moment, panic seized her. Then she gave herself a mental shake. Surely, she’d see him at least one more time when she returned to the homestead to gather Astrid and their belongings. Even so, her limbs were weak as she lowered herself onto the bench in front of the hotel.
“Miss Nilsson, thank you for speaking with me.” Phineas sat beside her, perching gingerly on the edge as though he might jump and flee at the slightest cause. “I regret the inconveniences and hardships my delay has cost you.”
He went on to explain that he’d gotten a much later start leaving San Francisco than he anticipated. When the stagecoach had reached Salt Lake City, he’d been delayed indefinitely due to trouble with Indians on the trail. Apparently, he’d written to her regarding the setback, but the letter had gone to her home in Illinois, and she never received it because she’d already departed for the West.
Whatever the case, Phineas hadn’t died. And the murdered and mutilated body discovered in the mountain pass that spring obviously belonged to some other unfortunate soul.
“The delivery of everything I purchased will be postponed until next spring.” He shook his head, his fleshy forehead wrinkled in consternation.
“Please don’t trouble yourself on my account.” She couldn’t keep herself from searching every horse and rider that rode past. Hopefully, Wyatt was only selling the beef and hadn’t left without her. No matter his frustration, he was a man of too much principle to make her fend for herself.
Phineas’s attention kept flitting to the livery and several passengers still waiting by their luggage. He had to be relieved to be back in Fairplay.
He toyed with his buttons again. “I just never expected the additional delay out of Salt Lake City.”
“I’m sure you didn’t.” She couldn’t rouse the enthusiasm he deserved. Back in August when she’d arrived, she would have been excited to meet him. Of course, she would have been nervous too, but ultimately she would have made the best of their marriage of convenience.
She had to muster the same resolve now. But how could she, not when she cared so deeply for Wyatt? When he was all she could think about? When he was the only man she wanted?
“Then you won’t mind living in the house without all the furniture and decorations?”
Could she really live with Phineas? Marry him? Be his wife? She swallowed hard, gripping her hands tightly together in her lap. Maybe once a loveless marriage would have been enough. But it wasn’t anymore. Not after all that she’d experienced with Wyatt.
She didn’t know how she could go through with marrying Phineas, but she couldn’t tell him that. At least not yet. Not until she had a chance to figure out what to do. For now, it was best if she didn’t hurt his feelings or cause him undue stress. “No, I’m sure we’ll be fine without furniture and decorations.”
His shoulders slumped, almost as if he’d hoped she’d say otherwise.
“And you won’t mind—not getting into the house?” His voice squeaked again as the words tumbled out haltingly. “I need to give the renters plenty of time to find other arrangements.”
Maybe that’s what she needed. Plenty of time. She could try to get him to postpone marriage plans since she was taking Astrid to Denver for further treatment. That would give her more time to figure out how to repay him for the cost he’d invested in her travel to Fairplay.
“Mr. Hallock, about Astrid . . . She hasn’t been getting better. Her condition, in fact, has worsened. As a result, I’ve decided to take her to the hospital in Denver. I’ve heard good things about what the physicians there are doing for consumption patients, and I’m hoping they can help Astrid.”
He didn’t reply.
She chanced a sideways glance to find that he was staring at the passengers near the livery, his face a mask of sadness and despair. She waited for him to say something, perhaps protest her desire to leave so soon after his arrival. But he remained silent, which made her heart sink farther.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” she said quietly. “I know that’s not what you were expecting after arriving home.”
He shifted his attention to her, his brow creasing. “Not what I was expecting?”
“Yes, I’m hoping to leave on the stagecoach tomorrow.”
He sat up, his girth straining against his vest. “I don’t understand. Why are you leaving?”
Hadn’t he been listening to what she’d just said? “I’d like to take Astrid to Denver.”
His face remained blank.
“For further treatment.”
“Then she’s not getting better?” He glanced away again, clearly distracted.