would.”
The children played with Tiger and barely glanced up as Ryder and Delcie went into his quarters. He left the doors open so they could hear the pair. Although the danger was over, it might take a while before he was comfortable having them out of his sight.
Like he said to Delcie, he watched over those he loved.
He escorted her through to the workroom. He had cut chaps out and they were spread on the table. “The man wants a pattern like this on his chaps.” He showed her a belt with the scroll pattern the man wanted.
“That looks like a lot of work.”
“It’s time consuming.” He showed her his tools and described what each one did. She asked questions that revealed an interest in his work.
The kitten trotted into the room, the children in pursuit.
Delcie circled the room, looking at the items on display. “You are very artistic.”
Her words pleased him. “It’s just a matter of choosing a design and doing the work.” Mirabelle had liked to watch him work but had never admired the results.
The sun slanted through the windows.
“It’s time for us to go home. Come on, children.”
Ryder scooped up the kitten so it wouldn’t follow the children.
Kent followed but paused at the door. “Are you coming for supper?”
Ryder would have liked to, but only if Delcie invited him.
“You’re more than welcome.” She didn’t look at him. There was something wrong, but he was at a loss to think what.
“I better stay and feed Tiger, but thanks.”
Kent looked ready to argue but Delcie sent him a warning look.
They left. The place was quiet. Too quiet, although not many days ago he would have welcomed the solitude.
He went through the house again, making mental changes to it. In his bedroom, he opened the valise that had some of his things from back home. On top was the picture of Mirabelle. Unfortunately, they had never gotten around to getting one done of Myra. Not that he’d ever forget her sweet face.
He took out the picture and shut the valise.
Mirabelle. He’d known her all his life and felt a sense of loyalty to her even though she was gone. What would she have thought about his growing feelings for Delcie? He trailed his fingers over the edges of the picture, feeling the embossing of the cardboard frame. He remembered a time when a widowed man in town had announced he was going to marry again. Ryder had told Mirabelle he thought it was too soon. That it didn’t show enough respect for his deceased wife. That he should wait.
Mirabelle had said, “Wait for what? I don’t think marrying another makes his love for his wife any less. I think she would have urged him to be happy. Go on with life. What they enjoyed is over and gone. But he isn’t. He deserves whatever bit of happiness he can find.” She’d smiled gently at him. “Goodness knows, there’s so much sorrow and sadness in this world. But there’s no point in letting it control us, because there’s always joy and happiness to be found too.”
“Thank you, Mirabelle. You always were wise and kind.” He put the picture on the table. Tomorrow, or first chance he got, he would explain to Delcie that his heart was fully hers.
“It’s as plain on the nose on your face that you love him,” Laura said to Delcie.
“How can it be obvious when it’s not true?”
Hilda and Laura looked at each other and shook their heads sadly.
“Ve know you vell enough to see it.”
“You ought to let him know how you feel.”
There was no point in arguing with the women. Nor did she feel like it. “I couldn’t.”
“Vhy not?” Hilda planted her hands on her hips. “Vhat good is love if you keep it hidden? Vhat a waste.”
“He had a wife and child.”
“And now he doesn’t. He is alone. Can’t you see how he feels about you and the children?” Laura seemed to think she knew.
Delcie could have told them that his feelings for Mirabelle were deep. Like hers for Sophie. That wasn’t something you simply forgot because the person was gone. But Hilda and Laura had their own opinion and she knew better than to try and dissuade them.
“I don’t see anything but a kind man.” It was all she meant to say on the matter.
“Then you need to open your eyes.” Laura huffed away but only made three steps before she turned around. “Not everyone is like Robert or Alonzo.”
“I know that. I