The Unexpected Wife(47)
Mr. Barrington’s deep masculine voice echoed across the front lawn and into the house. Her spine pricked with unwelcome sensations and she cursed her body for not having the sense to ignore him as her mind was so desperately trying to do.
Minutes passed as she sliced bread and ladled hot stew into the bowls. She filled cups with fresh milk then checked the chokeberry pie she had cooling on the sill.
The boards on the steps creaked, signaling the arrival of her guests. Smoothing a stray lock of hair from her forehead, she turned and smiled. “Well, come right in.”
Instantly, her smile vanished. In the doorway stood Mr. Barrington, his broad shoulders all but blocking out the noonday sun. Dark stubble covered his chin and his long hair was tied at the base of his neck with a strip of rawhide. He looked more like a desperado than a rancher.
His hat in hand he stepped inside the cabin. His spurs jingled as he walked toward her.
“Where are Holden and the others?” She readjusted the forks on the napkins for the tenth time today.
“Using the outhouse, stretching their legs. Holden is unsaddling my horse. They’ll be here in a minute.”
Even after two days, having him this close made her stomach flutter. “Did you have luck finding the bear?” she said coolly.
“No, I lost his tracks about half a mile from here.” He hung up his hat on a peg by the door. “I thought by now you’d be calling me Matthias.”
She took an extra moment to smooth out the last napkin, needing some simple task to keep her nerves steady. “That seems a little familiar.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Too familiar? After what happened?”
“I’d rather keep things more formal.”
“It’s too late for that.”
Her hands started to shake. “Are you hungry?”
His dark gaze locked on her in a too-familiar way. “Yes.”
She could feel the color rising in her cheeks but she turned toward the cupboard before he could see. “Let me set you a place then. You can visit with our guests.”
A heavy silence settled in the room as she set another plate, fork and cup on the table.
His gaze bore into her. “It’s rare we have time in the middle of the day to talk.”
Color burned her cheeks. “We don’t have time. Our guests will be here any moment.”
“I asked Holden to see that we had a couple of minutes.”
Her head snapped up. Her throat felt as dry as dust. “Why?”
He leaned against the counter. His stance seemed casual, but his gaze was harder than steel. “Like it or not we need to talk.”
The wind howled against the cabin, making it creak. “If you’re wondering about the baby, I don’t know anything yet.”
“When will you know?” he said stiffly.
Tears glistened in her eyes. “A week, maybe sooner.”
He shifted, uncomfortable as if talking was the last thing he wanted to do. “Look, Abby, there’s more to talk about other than the baby.”
“I don’t think so, Mr. Barrington. I’ll be leaving at the end of the summer as we discussed.” A tear escaped and she savagely wiped it away. “Now if you’ll excuse me. I’ve got to finish getting the table ready.”
Annoyance flashed in his eyes but he went silent. He glanced down at the table. There were three places plus the one she’d added for him. “Aren’t you joining us?”
“No, I thought I’d take the boys outside and keep them out of everyone’s way. It can be hard to eat a meal when they’re running about.”
“I want you to sit, relax for a few minutes.”
“I’ve never been one for sitting and relaxing.”
Before either could speak another word the men filed inside the cabin. With so many people in the single room, the space felt painfully small. Mr. Barrington was only inches from her, and the heat from his body scalded her skin.
Abby wished the cabin had more space. Her mind drifted toward a project she’d considered from the start—adding on another room. Perhaps expand the kitchen, and then she could bake extra goods and send them into town with Holden for Mrs. Clements to sell in her store.
She caught herself.
She was leaving soon.
There wouldn’t be any need for the expansion because, once she left, Holden would stop bringing customers by for a meal.
Sadness tugged at her before she refocused on the men who stared at the food with longing.
“Dig in, gentlemen,” Abby said. “Don’t wait on my account. Enjoy your lunch.”
Needing no other encouragement, the men grabbed slices of bread from the platter in the middle of the table. They started to eat.
Mr. Barrington stood with his back straight. He looked ready to turn on his heel and leave when Holden arrived. “I turned the horses loose in the corral and I washed my hands.” There was a wide grin on Holden’s face as he held up his hands to Abby. “Quinn told me you’re a stickler for clean hands.”