“Yup.” He wondered if anyone would notice his hoarseness.
He waited for the others to enter, needing the extra time to regain his composure. But when he entered, he saw Louise’s braid coiled about her head, catching the lamplight at various angles so her hair was shades of golden brown and coffee color.
He had to force himself not to stare and fisted his hands at his sides to keep from reaching out to touch it.
He was grateful for the distraction provided by Dusty banging about at the stove.
Dutch shifted from one foot to the other. “This meal going to take long, Dusty?”
In reply, Dusty slammed a steaming pot on the table. “Eat.”
Nate’s wobbly legs took him to the table. Louise smiled up at him as he sat beside her. “Everything okay? You look a little strange.”
“Everything is fine.” But it wasn’t. And he couldn’t figure out why. Nothing had changed.
Yet everything was different.
He filled his bowl with whatever the gruel was Dusty served and ate every bit. He didn’t taste a thing.
He might not be able to concentrate on his own actions but knew every movement Louise made. She took only a mouthful of the food and seemed to have trouble eating even that.
He’d ask if she was ill, but he knew what her response would be. He would simply keep a close eye on her throughout the day. Sam had already arranged to ride the horse again, so Nate would be in the coach beside her the whole time.
After the meal, they departed, settling into the stagecoach with sighs of relief.
“It’s good to be on the road again,” Archie said. “I wouldn’t want to be stuck there for the winter.”
“None of us would,” Miss Rolfe said with such conviction, the others laughed. “He has to be the worst cook in the world.”
“Certainly the worst I’ve ever encountered,” Archie agreed.
Nate leaned back, content to have Louise at his side. But as the others compared bad-food stories, he felt her tense. She pressed her hands to her stomach. He was about to ask them to change the subject, when Miss Rolfe leaped to her feet and pushed aside the curtain on the window, just in time for her to be sick.
“So sorry.” She wiped her mouth on her hankie.
A few minutes later, Missy did the same.
Nate’s own stomach rolled and twisted. “What did that man serve us?”
Louise groaned. “Whatever it was, I don’t like it.”
He gripped her hand and tried not to think how such an upset would affect her in her condition.
Nate took slow, deep breaths, trying to settle his stomach as both Gabe and Archie got sick.
By the time they reached the first stop to change horses, the passengers tumbled from the coach and raced for the well. They each rinsed their mouths and drank deeply.
Louise had not been sick, but Nate could tell she was fighting it.
“Are you okay?” he asked, daring her ire.
“A little uncomfortable, but I doubt I’ll be sick. I didn’t eat a lot of Dusty’s food.”
“You were wise.”
She caught his arm as he prepared to return to the coach. “How about you? You feeling ill?”
It would likely be more heroic to deny it, but his stomach continued to protest. He nodded.
“Perhaps it would be best to rid yourself of the spoiled food.”
“Maybe.” He hung back as she made her way to the stage. Then he made for the corrals and did as she suggested. She was right. It did help, as did the cold water.
Everyone was on board by the time he climbed inside.
“Better?” Louise whispered as he settled in beside her.
“Better.”
Under the buffalo robe she found his hand and squeezed it.
He turned his palm to hers and intertwined his fingers with hers. Now he felt lots better.
The others soon leaned back and slept. He, too, felt exhausted from the stomach upset. But Louise was not comfortable. Several times she moaned, the sound captured inside her mouth, yet he heard it. Felt it. Her hand squeezed his. He knew from experience she had the strength to numb his fingers. Just as he knew she tried to hide the cramps in her stomach that made her lean forward.
“Maybe you should take your own advice.” He rubbed the back of her neck.
“Maybe,” was all she said.