The Unexpected Wife(54)
Before she could answer the boys looked up from their catalogue. “Can we go?”
Mr. Barrington stoked a poker into the glowing embers. “It’s up to Abby. She’ll be the one that’ll have to make us the extra meals and get us packed.”
The boys jumped to their feet. “Can we go? Please.”
She wasn’t sure what Mr. Barrington was up to. This ranch meant everything to him and time was as precious as gold. “Are you sure you can take the time? You’re building that larger corral for the horses and you said you were behind on wood chopping.”
His gaze stayed on the flames. “A family outing might be good for us.”
Family. She wasn’t going to do this. She wasn’t going to let herself believe in things that weren’t meant to be. “Giving up two days of work is not very practical, Mr. Barrington.”
He frowned as if he’d not expected her to be so hesitant. Likely, he thought she’d jump at the chance. She wondered why she hadn’t.
Quinn grabbed her hand. “Abby, please! I want to go into town.”
“There’s a pie baking contest,” Mr. Barrington said. “I’d be willing to bet you’d win hands down.”
Tommy tugged on her skirt. “Pleeeease.”
She stared into the little boy’s eyes, so full of hope and wonder. “Mr. Barrington, you are backing me into a corner.”
Mr. Barrington smiled, an occasion so rare, that when he did she found him irresistible. “I know.”
Her stomach fluttered with tension. “We can go to the picnic, but be warned, Mr. Barrington, this picnic isn’t going to change anything. My plans are set.”
He rose and faced her. Like a warrior ready to do battle, his dark gaze burned into her. “So are mine.”
Chapter Fourteen
Abby awoke in the middle of the night with cramps. It wasn’t uncommon for her to have pain with her cycle but she’d not had real trouble in years. This month promised to be one of her worst.
Experience told her she needed something hot to drink. Groggy, she pushed herself off her pallet and climbed down her ladder. Since she’d arrived she’d always kept the fires in the stove burning to keep the chill off the cabin and make breakfast preparation less complicated. If she could just stoke the flames, she could make a cup of tea to soothe her discomfort.
Pressing her hand into her back she moved across the room, trying her best not to wake Mr. Barrington and the boys. She’d grown so accustomed to the cabin, she didn’t need a light until she reached the kitchen. She lit a lantern, keeping the wick low so that the light wouldn’t disturb the others. Soft buttery light hovered on the stovetop as she set the full kettle on the burner. It would be a good ten minutes before the water was hot enough for tea.
The pain in her back throbbed through to her stomach and shot down her legs. Of all the times to have trouble. Why couldn’t her body have cooperated and waited until she’d left the ranch?
The creak of floorboards had her turning. Mr. Barrington stood in the kitchen. Since the bear’s nocturnal visit, he’d taken to sleeping with his pants on and his guns within reach. She didn’t need light to know dark stubble covered his square jaw.
“What’s wrong?” he said his voice gruff with sleep.
She turned, the tea box in her hand. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“What’s wrong?” he repeated. His gaze took in the kettle and the tea box.
“I just needed something hot to drink.”
“It’s not cold.”
Embarrassment kept her silent.
He watched as she turned slowly and reached for a cup on the shelf above the stove. Her legs ached and she wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed.
He brushed her hand aside and took the cup from the shelf. “Sit down.”
She just wanted to be alone. “Just go back to bed. I’m fine.”
“Sit.”
Too sore and miserable to argue, she sat down. Getting the weight off her legs felt good.
Mr. Barrington went to the front door and took the horseshoe that always hung there from its hook. He returned to the stove, moved the kettle to the back burner and laid the horseshoe on the hot front. “It should just take about five minutes to heat up, then I’ll wrap it in a cloth.”
Despite her best efforts, she slumped forward. “What are you doing?”
“Your stomach aches, doesn’t it?”
She could feel the color flooding her cheeks. “I just wanted a cup of tea.”
He shoved his fingers through his hair. “There’s no cause for embarrassment. I understand what’s happening.”
Were the spaces between the floorboards wide enough for her to melt into? “I—I’m not embarrassed.”