She would admit no other reason.
“I remember the first time I saw you,” she said.
“Yeah. Guess you were impressed, right?”
She jabbed her elbow in his ribs. “Where’s your humility?”
“Don’t think I had any at fourteen.”
She nodded. “That’s true. You and Gordie were daring each other to see who could jump the widest puddle. You made it across and Gordie ended up with his feet in the mud. What I remember the clearest is you standing there laughing at your poor friend.”
“Guess you thought I was a braggart and a bully.”
What she thought was he was strong and handsome and had the nicest laugh. Not that she’d tell him. “Were you?”
“Sometimes. But only because I envied Gordie having a ma and pa who cared so much for him.”
She’d never realized that. “But you had your ma.”
“And she did her best. I’m not faulting her. But she worked all day at someone else’s house and came home too tired to do anything but sit.” He shrugged. “I missed my pa. Guess I still do.”
She squeezed his arm. “I miss mine, too.”
“But yours is still alive.”
“But he doesn’t care enough to see me or want me with him.” They exchanged infrequent letters. Nothing more.
She and Nate had stopped walking and faced each other. “I begged him to let me come home after Gordie died, but he refused.”
“So I’m second choice?”
She wanted to say that it was no choice, that she’d acted out of pure desperation. But something about the look in his eyes and the tremor in his voice at the mention of his father wouldn’t allow it. Besides, it would not be totally true. “I knew I could count on you.” That was the whole truth. She knew, in the depths of her heart, that once he gave his word, he would keep it, no matter what.
His gaze searched hers, looking for hidden meaning, searching for a revealing clue. She knew the moment he realized she meant what she said. His eyes darkened and held hers like a vise. She wanted to turn away before he saw deeper, saw the things she didn’t want anyone to know, wouldn’t even admit to herself. How afraid she was of the future, how she’d care for a baby on her own. Where they would live. Whether anyone would ever care for her the way she longed to be cared for—in a way that would make them stick through thick and thin, and not walk away when something more convenient came up.
He cupped his leather-clad hand to her cheek. “You honor me with your trust.”
Trust? She hadn’t said she trusted him, only that she knew she could count on him. Of course, she understood how he would see it as the same thing. But in her mind it wasn’t.
She knew she could count on him because he had an obligation to Gordie, to Gordie’s parents and because he’d given his word.
But she didn’t trust him to provide the kind of caring she wanted. He left when things got hard. Not only had she seen it when Gordie’s parents had died, she’d seen it before when he’d walked away from challenges he considered beneath his interest. Like the time Jean Black had told a bothersome boy she was Nate’s girlfriend. It wasn’t true, but she had only wanted someone to make the boy leave her alone. Nate had simply looked at her, told her to stand on her own and then walked away.
Louise had been angry at the time. But now she wondered if she had been unfair in her assessment. Perhaps Jean did need to learn to stand up for herself.
But that wasn’t the only time Nate had expected people to stand on their own and not expect help from him. He had not come for Gordie’s funeral. Had not even sent a message of condolence. Louise figured it was because he couldn’t face another loss in his life. It had been easier for him to stay away than face something difficult.
“Why didn’t you come for Gordie’s funeral?” she asked him now.
His hand remained on her cheek, soft and gentle and warm, but his shoulders sank almost imperceptibly. “I had been sent to move cattle and was gone until fall. That’s when I learned the news. Seemed a little late to do anything. Besides, I planned to visit my ma in a few weeks.”
“Would you have come and spoken to me if I hadn’t run into you at the cemetery?”