The Unexpected Wife(28)
She met his fiery gaze. “And those are important traits, but it’s also important that they know their manners. One day they will go to school, perhaps a university, and they need to know how to handle themselves.”
He wasn’t accustomed to a woman being so direct. When Elise had gotten angry there’d been tense silences and sighs. “They’re my boys, so what I say goes.”
“If I am to care for them—”
“You aren’t their mother.” He spoke much more sharply than he’d intended.
Miss Smyth’s skin paled. Fire flashed in her eyes. She laid her napkin on the table. “You’re quite right, Mr. Barrington.” She looked as if she’d say something else. But she realized the children had stopped eating and were starting intently at her.
Slowly, she rose. “I’m going out for some fresh air.”
“This isn’t the city. It’s not wise to go roaming at night.”
She moved toward the front door, where her coat hung on a peg next to the children’s. “I’ve no intention of roaming.”
Tossing his napkin on the table, he rose. He’d been an ass and he knew it. “You don’t know your way around out there.” He knew she was mad at him and frankly he couldn’t blame her. She’d worked hard today and he’d been little more than a clod. It wasn’t her fault that she wasn’t Elise. Or that she never would be. “If it’s the outhouse that you’re needing, I’ll get my gun and go with you. There are bears this time of year.”
She reached for the door handle and opened it. “I’d rather deal with a bear.”
Before he could say another word, she slammed the door behind her.
Tears stung Abby’s eyes as she strode toward the barn. With no lantern, she had only the light from the half moon to guide her over the snow path Mr. Barrington had beaten between the house and the barn. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do when she got to the barn. She simply knew she had to get out of the house.
She stumbled on an unseen stick and it took several quick awkward steps before she caught herself. In the city there was always a street lamp or lantern to guide the way. But out here the night was so blasted dark.
She wanted to hide from Mr. Barrington’s unexplainable irritation and the shocked expressions on the boys’ faces. She’d worked so hard today because she’d desperately wanted to make that cabin feel more like a home.
And Mr. Barrington, for reasons she’d never understand, had been annoyed with her for doing just that.
Reaching the barn, Abby pushed back the wooden latch that kept the door closed. Earlier, she and the boys had toured the homestead. She’d inspected the chicken house where she’d collected half a dozen eggs. As the boys chatted happily, she’d toured the barn, which unlike the house was surprisingly organized.
She paused inside the barn. The earthy smell of hay drifted over the chilly night air.
The interior was pitch-black and she could barely see her outstretched hand. Relying on the bits of moonlight by the door, she found a lantern hanging by the door and a box of matches. She lit the wick and turned it up until the light burned bright.
The barn had four stalls. Two sat empty. However, one stall on the north side held a chestnut gelding and on the other side there was a black mare with her colt.
Abby moved toward the mare and her colt. She held up the lantern. The mare eyed her with big brown eyes, then moved forward an inch as if to shield her baby.
“Don’t worry, girl. I won’t hurt your baby.” Abby held out her flat palm, waiting for the horse to sniff her hand.
The horse snorted and did not approach. “Do you have a problem with me, too?” Despite the animal’s haughtiness, she continued to hold out her hand. If anything, Miss Smyth was good at being patient. She’d spent the last ten years being nothing but patient.
A full minute passed before the horse sniffed, as if trying to figure out if Miss Smyth had a treat in her hand.
“Sorry, it’s just me tonight.”
The animal pawed at the dirt and turned her back, clearly uninterested in Abby.
Even the animals on the ranch seemed to have no need of her company.
She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, watching the mare and her colt. The creak of the barn door opening had her turning.
Mr. Barrington stood in the doorway. Abby turned back to the horse.
“You going to stay out here all night?” Mr. Barrington’s deep rich voice echoed in the barn.
Her stomach tightened and her skin grew hot. “Maybe. I like it out here. It’s peaceful.”
He strode up to the stall. When he stood next to her she realized just how tall he was. Abby had been taller than a good many men in her family, but Mr. Barrington stood at least five inches taller.