Clara and Blue looked at each other and laughed.
The atmosphere grew considerably lighter after that. The girls asked Blue where he had gone earlier, and he told them of his ride.
“I saw a herd of antelope while I was riding.”
The girls leaned forward. “Antelope?”
“Yup. Did you know they can run faster than a horse?”
The two girls got wide-eyed. “Can we see them?”
“You pay attention and you might.” He went on to talk about other wildlife he’d seen in the area. “Even wolves and bears up in the mountains.”
“Was you scared?” Libby asked.
Eleanor sprang to his defense. “Of course he wasn’t. Mr. Blue isn’t scared of anything. Are you?”
“Bears and wolves aren’t animals a man should stop being afraid of.”
“Oh.” Eleanor sounded disappointed.
“A person just has to be cautious and not let their fear control them.” He looked at Clara, a challenge in his eyes.
Did he think her fears controlled her? Well, to a certain extent they did. But sometimes fear was a good thing.
“I think fear should drive us to action,” she said. “Not drive us into retreat.”
The look he gave her was filled with denial.
She hadn’t meant to be so challenging. Would her words make him draw back? She soon had her answer.
He pushed from the table. “Thank you for sharing your supper with me. Now I must go.”
She watched him stride away, her heart heavy with regret.
How was she going to undo her words?
Chapter Ten
At the church, Blue worked his wet boots off again and propped them by the stove to dry. He changed his socks and picked up his book. With a groan, he dropped it to the nearby pew. He wouldn’t be able to read with his mind full of turmoil.
What was he thinking to challenge Clara about her fears? Who was he to say she shouldn’t let them control her?
He strode to the windows facing town and stared at the empty streets. Miss Prudence Foot lived next to the livery barn with her brother. He glanced from her house to the little shack where Clara and the girls stayed. Could the woman see it from her place? He shrugged. What difference did it make? He’d only been at the shack a short while and had left well before dark.
He crossed to the other side of the church and looked out the windows. The street led away from town, away from the ranch. Away. Maybe it was time to ride away.
He turned to face the interior of the building. He couldn’t leave. He had to make the pews. Besides, someone had to make sure Clara and the girls were safe. The irony of not wanting to care and yet being so concerned about their well-being was not lost on him. Nor did he try to reconcile the two. He’d been able to save Libby. It didn’t make up for losing his own children, but it was something. Just as making sure Clara and the girls were safe allowed him to do something that helped ease the pain of not being able to save his own family.
Tomorrow he would apologize for his rash words and make things right between them. Then he could find the peace of mind he sought.
The next morning he hurried over for breakfast, anxious to assure himself they were all okay. Libby bounced about so excitedly her mother had to scold her.
“Her soaking doesn’t appear to have harmed her,” Blue said.
Clara shook her head. “Certainly hasn’t slowed her down.”
Bonnie and Claude expressed their concern over Libby’s fall into the river.
“Mr. Blue saved me.” Libby gave him such an adoring look that he almost choked on his food. He was growing far too familiar with the adoration of two little girls even though he’d tried to resist it from the beginning.
“And we’re all grateful,” Clara said. “But perhaps, Libby, you could stop chattering and finish your breakfast so people can get on with their day.”
Libby nodded and concentrated on her plate of food, but she wriggled about as if she were about to explode.
Blue was already done and pushed away from the table, thanked Bonnie and Claude for the meal and hurried to the church. As he waited for Clara and the girls to join him, he rehearsed what he wanted to say.
The girls clattered in first and dived for the buckets. Just as quickly they raced outside to fill them with snow.