small basket of flowers. She was flushed from the walk. A few straggling tendrils of hair stuck to her face, glistening with tiny beads of sweat. She had a natural beauty that didn’t require kohl or rouge to turn a man’s head.
“This is the last place I thought I’d find you today.” Setting her basket on the ground, she wiped her forehead with a handkerchief. “The children are looking for you.”
“What do they want?”
“Nothing in particular. They’re with Pop now. Why are your cheeks wet?”
He turned away. “It’s hot here.”
She picked up a handful of flowers. “I don’t know why men are so embarrassed to cry. It’s a natural thing to do under the circumstances.”
“I’m sweating.”
“You’re crying.”
His gaze met and held hers. “Do you always have to have the last word?”
“Only when I’m right.”
Stepping around him, she laid flowers on Addy’s and John’s graves, and then proceeded to Jim’s. Cade felt a pang of envy when he saw her somber expression. Had she loved her husband deeply? He hoped Jim had made her happy. It seemed that all he, Cade, had brought her was misery.
Standing before Jim’s marker, she bowed her head. He wanted to comfort her, but it wasn’t his place. She had enough pain to handle.
She laid flowers on Jim’s grave and her parents’ graves and then moved to his parents’ resting place. She pulled long strands of grass away from their headstone, and then placed marigolds against the simple crosses.
“You come here often?” he asked, ignoring the guilt that swept him. Until today, he’d never put a flower on Ma’s or Pa’s graves.
“As often as I can.”
“Do you always put flowers on my folks’ graves?”
“I guess it’s habit. Addy and I used to come here together.”
“I appreciate it.”
“It’s no bother.” Straightening, she dusted her hands, glancing at the sun. “It’s a scorcher today.”
“Real hot.”
She smiled. “I know. You’ve been sweating. “
He turned to walk away, and she latched onto his arm. “We need to talk.”
“Here?”
She shook her head, and he wondered if she guessed his reluctance to linger in a cemetery.
“There’s some shade over there,” she pointed to a tree outside the gate.
Their shoes kicked up puffs of dust. Grasshoppers jumped beside them as they trod the rutted path. The scent of dry hay hung thick in the stifling summer air.
Zoe’s gaze went to Cade’s horse and the sheriff’s wagon behind. “I see you picked up Hague.”
“Yes. I need to get him to the undertaker.” Already the foul scent seeping from the pine box turned one’s stomach.
Moving toward the tree, she motioned for him to follow. “Let’s rest a moment.”
Sitting on the grass, she leaned back against the tree trunk, fanning herself with her handkerchief.
He took a seat beside her, removed his hat, and hooked it over his knee. “What’s on your mind?”
“You have to leave.”
“Leave. What’ll it be, Red? Leave or stay? You seem to reach a different conclusion every day.”
“Leave. The kids are getting attached to you too quickly.”
“Isn’t that the point of me staying?”
“Regardless, I know you’re not going to stay, so you have to leave.”
He stared at her. “You confuse me.”
“What’s confusing about your leaving? You are going, aren’t you?”
“Eventually.”
“Then leave now before you do anymore damage.”
He took a deep breath and released it slowly, choosing his words carefully. “I don’t want to hurt the kids.” When he looked into her eyes, he saw her misgivings. She didn’t trust him. The thought stung, but he conceded that he had neglected his family. Her disapproval of him was his own fault. “I’ll stay as long as it takes to find the kids a home.”
“Not good enough.”
Could he tell her about Hart McGill and not upset her? He couldn’t. Women didn’t understand his profession. “It’s the way it’s going to be.”
“Why do
“This is the last place I thought I’d find you today.” Setting her basket on the ground, she wiped her forehead with a handkerchief. “The children are looking for you.”
“What do they want?”
“Nothing in particular. They’re with Pop now. Why are your cheeks wet?”
He turned away. “It’s hot here.”
She picked up a handful of flowers. “I don’t know why men are so embarrassed to cry. It’s a natural thing to do under the circumstances.”
“I’m sweating.”
“You’re crying.”
His gaze met and held hers. “Do you always have to have the last word?”
“Only when I’m right.”
Stepping around him, she laid flowers on Addy’s and John’s graves, and then proceeded to Jim’s. Cade felt a pang of envy when he saw her somber expression. Had she loved her husband deeply? He hoped Jim had made her happy. It seemed that all he, Cade, had brought her was misery.
Standing before Jim’s marker, she bowed her head. He wanted to comfort her, but it wasn’t his place. She had enough pain to handle.
She laid flowers on Jim’s grave and her parents’ graves and then moved to his parents’ resting place. She pulled long strands of grass away from their headstone, and then placed marigolds against the simple crosses.
“You come here often?” he asked, ignoring the guilt that swept him. Until today, he’d never put a flower on Ma’s or Pa’s graves.
“As often as I can.”
“Do you always put flowers on my folks’ graves?”
“I guess it’s habit. Addy and I used to come here together.”
“I appreciate it.”
“It’s no bother.” Straightening, she dusted her hands, glancing at the sun. “It’s a scorcher today.”
“Real hot.”
She smiled. “I know. You’ve been sweating. “
He turned to walk away, and she latched onto his arm. “We need to talk.”
“Here?”
She shook her head, and he wondered if she guessed his reluctance to linger in a cemetery.
“There’s some shade over there,” she pointed to a tree outside the gate.
Their shoes kicked up puffs of dust. Grasshoppers jumped beside them as they trod the rutted path. The scent of dry hay hung thick in the stifling summer air.
Zoe’s gaze went to Cade’s horse and the sheriff’s wagon behind. “I see you picked up Hague.”
“Yes. I need to get him to the undertaker.” Already the foul scent seeping from the pine box turned one’s stomach.
Moving toward the tree, she motioned for him to follow. “Let’s rest a moment.”
Sitting on the grass, she leaned back against the tree trunk, fanning herself with her handkerchief.
He took a seat beside her, removed his hat, and hooked it over his knee. “What’s on your mind?”
“You have to leave.”
“Leave. What’ll it be, Red? Leave or stay? You seem to reach a different conclusion every day.”
“Leave. The kids are getting attached to you too quickly.”
“Isn’t that the point of me staying?”
“Regardless, I know you’re not going to stay, so you have to leave.”
He stared at her. “You confuse me.”
“What’s confusing about your leaving? You are going, aren’t you?”
“Eventually.”
“Then leave now before you do anymore damage.”
He took a deep breath and released it slowly, choosing his words carefully. “I don’t want to hurt the kids.” When he looked into her eyes, he saw her misgivings. She didn’t trust him. The thought stung, but he conceded that he had neglected his family. Her disapproval of him was his own fault. “I’ll stay as long as it takes to find the kids a home.”
“Not good enough.”
Could he tell her about Hart McGill and not upset her? He couldn’t. Women didn’t understand his profession. “It’s the way it’s going to be.”
“Why do
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