Edge of the Wilderness - By Stephanie Grace Whitson Page 0,28

Gen had mentioned their private breakfast the previous week. It was time he put some distance between himself and the situation.

“There’s a storm brewing to the northwest,” Gen said from the doorway. She walked toward him and stood at his side, pointing to the west where clouds were just becoming visible on the horizon.

His heart pounding at her proximity, Simon answered, “I’ll be on my way long before that reaches us. As dry as it has been this spring, I’d welcome a thorough drenching if it breaks the drought.”

“I made coffee,” Gen said. “And there’s a small lunch tucked into your saddlebags by the door.”

“Thank you, my dear,” he said. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Gen said quickly.

“What?”

She mimicked his tone as she said aloud, “my dear.” She continued looking out the window while she talked. “Yesterday when Aaron was so angry about your not letting him go along, you told him you needed him to ‘look after the girls.’ And you looked right across the table at me.” She glanced up at him. “I’m not one of ‘your girls.’”

“I didn’t mean it to sound that way,” Simon said carefully. “I’m sorry if I offended.”

Gen backed away. “I’ll be in the kitchen,” she said and left.

Simon followed her down the hall toward the oblique slant of light coming from the open kitchen door. Gen worked quickly to serve up breakfast for the two of them and then placed the plates opposite one another at the kitchen table.

They ate in silence until Simon said, “I don’t mean anything by calling you ‘my dear’, or one of ‘my girls.’ It’s just—” He hesitated. “I suppose it’s meant as an affectionate way of addressing you without trying to overstep—”

“Overstep?” Gen said abruptly. She set her coffee cup down. “Do I remember correctly? Did you not propose marriage, earlier this month?”

He nodded. “I did. But you said—”

“I asked if you would wait,” she interrupted him. “I never intended for you to go into hibernation.” She watched him carefully, waiting for him to respond. When he didn’t, she stood up and took the two empty plates to the sink. Without turning around she said, “This isn’t working the way it should, Simon. And I don’t know how to repair it. I’ve asked Miss Jane for advice. I’ve asked Nina Whitney for advice. And I’ve asked God. But nothing changes. What should I do?” She turned to face him.

“You needn’t do anything,” Simon said carefully. “You owe me nothing.” Distracted by the silhouette of her slim figure outlined against the white sink behind her, he got up and retreated to the door. Taking his saddlebags off the hook, he slung them over his shoulder. He started to go, then turned back. He couldn’t keep the tension from his voice when he said, “I will ask after Daniel Two Stars at the prison camp. Someone may know something.” He turned to go.

“Wait!” Gen said, rushing to him. When he stopped, she raised both hands and laid her palms on his chest. Drawing them back toward herself she pressed her palms together and rested her chin on the tips of her fingers. She looked like a woman at prayer as she said softly, “Daniel Two Stars was hanged in Mankato, Minnesota, on December 26, 1862. It was a mistake. He was innocent. But he died.” She looked up at Simon again and slowly waved her hands across the space that separated them. “And it is time that he stopped standing in this space, between you and me.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I thought you wanted that, too, Simon. But you’ve been so remote lately—and you’ve taken to using that imperial my dear, like you used to do with Ellen.” She shivered. “I hate it. It puts up a barrier between us—”

“A barrier that must exist,” Simon said abruptly.

“But why?” she asked.

“Because, my dear, I promised you I would keep my distance. And if I don’t put up a few barriers, I’m not going to be able to do that.” He shook his head and swiped one hand across his forehead. Imperceptibly he shifted his weight so that he was almost leaning away from her. He gripped the door frame behind him. “I’m not good at this sort of thing, Genevieve. You should know that.”

He looked down at her. Taking a deep breath he said, “When I look at you I think I must have been truly insane to suggest even such a ridiculous