Chapter 22

22

L eah dragged the bucket up the porch stairs, hanging onto the rail for aid. This was her punishment for stuffing all the produce into a single bucket instead of making multiple trips. If only her right leg wasn't so weak.

She limped into the cabin, leaning hard to balance the weight of her load. Once inside, she allowed the bucket to clatter to the floor while she stopped to remove her coat and hang it on the peg. With the close of September coming soon, the temperatures had begun to drop, requiring a coat most days.

"Looks like there was a lot left to pick." Miriam's voice carried from the rocking chair near the fire, the chair that had been her mother's—now Miriam's most prized possession.

"Quite a few green beans, some corn, and a couple of tomatoes." Leah puffed out a breath with her bottom lip extended, sending the flyaway hairs around her face blowing in all directions. "I got everything though. The corn stalks are turning brown, so I think that might be the last of it this year."

She picked up the bucket again and hauled it toward the kitchen, every footstep awkward and exhausting. She placed her load next to the work counter with a thud and had to lean against the edge to catch her breath. Would this leg never let her work like a normal person again? She turned to stare across the room where Miriam was working. "Miri, do you think I'll always have this limp?"

Her friend looked up, her raised eyebrows clear even from where Leah stood. "Don't be silly." A smile laced her voice. "I know it was painful, but the bone was only broken in one place. Soon it'll be completely well."

Her frustration softened. Miriam always knew how to cheer her up. Leah hobbled across the room to sit for a minute. A break might help her aching leg, as well.

She settled in her usual ladder-back chair, stretching her right leg in front of her. "What are you working on?"

Miriam looked up from the needle as she pulled it through a piece of flexible brown leather. "Gideon's buckskins." Her focus dropped back to her work, seeking out the next stitch. "I didn't get them mended last winter, so I'd better get it done before the first snow or Gideon will have my head." A smile touched her features, revealing she wasn't too concerned about that probability.

"What does he use them for?" Leah leaned forward to see the leather more closely.

Miriam's hands stopped moving and she looked up sharply, her golden brows rising. "He wears them." Curiosity took over her face. "Haven't you seen buckskins before?"

Leah raised her own brows in retort. "Not that I know of."

"Well then," Miriam secured the needle and began to shake out the leather, holding it up for Leah to see. "This is what Gideon wears in the winter, especially when the snow hits." The leather was stitched into a tunic-style shirt. "It's made from deer skin and is mostly waterproof, plus it keeps him really warm. Sometimes the snow can last for weeks up here, so a good set of buckskins can save a man's life when he's working outside."

Leah reached out to finger one of the sleeves. "It's softer than I expected. Now that I think about it, I saw a couple of men wearing these when I first arrived in Fort Benton."

Miriam nodded. "Most of the trappers and Indians wear them."

Leah glanced at the stack of leathers next to the rocking chair. "Can I help?"

"Sure, you'll have to use my extra glover's needle for the leather." She handed Leah another folded leather tunic and a large needle with a triangle-shaped point. "Make sure your stitches are really small like this. Anything farther apart will let out too much body heat at the seams."

Leah studied Miriam's miniature stitches. Much like the embroidery she used to do in Richmond. Not her favorite, but she was certainly capable.

While she settled into her needlework, Miriam began her usual chatter. "I noticed the corn husks are extra thick this year. That means we're gonna have a hard winter. Pretty soon Gideon will start hunting again and we'll have fresh meat, now that the weather's cool enough to store it. I can't wait to stop eating all this salted beef and pork." She wrinkled her nose, calling attention to the light dusting of freckles across her cheeks.

"Do you ever hunt with him?"

Miriam's mouth pressed. "I went a few times, but never could bring myself to actually shoot an animal. The boys used to tease me something awful."

"So you know how to shoot a gun?" Leah's hand slowed as she waited for Miriam's response.

The girl's face turned even softer than before, her lips curving a bit. "Papa never wanted me to do the same things the boys did. Said I was a young lady and should be treated like one." She swallowed, her voice tightening. "But after he was gone, Gideon taught me. He showed me how to shoot and ride and rope. He used to let me go with him to help with the cattle sometimes. But that was mostly before Mama died." Her voice trailed off.

It might be best to steer the conversation in a more pleasant direction. "Can you shoot as well as your brother?"

The sparkle began to gleam in Miriam's green eyes again. "No one can shoot as well as Gideon. I don't think he's missed what he's aimed at since he was ten years old."

Leah grinned. "Do you think you could teach me to shoot a gun, too?"

Miriam seemed to ponder that for a moment, then her smile took on a trickster's gleam as her gaze dropped back to the sewing in her hands. "I don't think so."

If Leah didn't know better, she would think Miriam had an ulterior motive. Something about the way the girl wouldn't look her in the face…

"And why not, if I may ask?"

"Oh, I think it would be better if Gideon teaches you. He always says I don't hold the gun right, and I'd hate to show you something wrong."

What was this little magpie up to? Surely she wasn't trying to play matchmaker. But the aura of feigned innocence rolled off her in waves.

"Miriam…" Leah infused a hint of suspicion in her tone. "What are you up to?"

Miriam snipped off her thread and set the buckskin aside, then stretched and yawned, obviously trying to avoid answering. After leaning back in the chair, she gave Leah a too-perky smile. "So what are you planning for dinner?"

Later that evening, Leah stirred the beef stew in her bowl while Gideon and Miriam dove into their own servings. She certainly would be happy to have something to cook besides the soured beef or pork, especially if she didn't have to kill and gut the animal herself.

She sneaked a glance at Gideon. The green in his shirt brought out the same color in his eyes, dark circles and lines had formed under those eyes.

He was scarfing down his food, and at first she had simply thought him hungry. Now she saw the tension in his shoulders and jaw. He'd come in late for dinner tonight too. Was something wrong with the stock?

"How are the herds today, Gideon?"

He gave her a quick glance, then ducked his head for another bite. "Good. Moved them to the south valley today so they could have protection from the snow."

Leah raised her brows, and not just because Gideon had spoken more than two words. "Do you think it's going to snow soon then?"

He glanced toward the window, although it was too dark to see anything outside. "Tonight, most likely. The clouds are low n' thick, and the moon had a halo last night. Temperature's dropping fast." That seemed to be all he was going to say, for he dove back into his stew, eating with an urgency that Leah now felt too.

When his second bowl was empty and he leaned back in his chair, Leah rose, "Are you ready for leftover apple pie?"

"Not yet." His chair scraped on the floor as he scooted backward. He moved to the door and grabbed his coat and hat from the pegs on the wall. "There's too much to do before the snow hits. Can it wait until later tonight?"

She offered a smile. "Of course. Is there anything I can help with outside?"

He finished buttoning his coat and reached for two of the lanterns on the wall that poured light into the cabin. "I guess you can come help with the animals if you want. Make sure you bundle up."

And then he was gone, without waiting for her to walk with him. Gideon may not say much usually, but his actions almost always reflected those of a gentleman. For him to decline apple pie and then leave her in his dust, he must really be worried about the weather.

As she limped through the barn door a few minutes later, Gideon strode with a double-armload of hay, tossing some in each stall as he walked. He called out half-way across the barn. "Can you let the stock in and milk Bethany?"

"Of course." He was finally allowing her to help, to work beside him. She moved as quickly as possible, bringing in the horses and milk cow, then the calf from her separate corral.

While Bethany munched hay, Leah milked. She usually took time to enjoy the rhythm and peacefulness of the process, but the temperature seemed to be dropping fast. And the sounds of Gideon moving around in the barn drifted into the stall with an urgency.

After milking, she poured half of the creamy white liquid into the bucket in the calf's stall, giving her an affectionate scratch on her glossy black neck. Next, she went in search of Gideon, finding him near the front stalls where the wagon horses were kept. He deposited the two buckets in his hands near the other three already on the ground, all full to the brim with water.

Leah watched his face as she approached, seeing the worry lines around his eyes. "What can I do next?"

He looked around, running a hand through his already-mussed hair. "I think that's it for the barn. Head on back to the house. I'll be in soon."

She studied him a moment longer. She hated to go into the cabin if there was more work to do outside. Gideon still stood with his hand in his hair, fingers pinching the ends of his short locks, while his mind ran through scenarios or to-do lists or who knew what.

Then he seemed to realize she was watching him, and he gave her a sheepish smile, dropping his hand to his side. "Go help Miriam. I'll be inside in a few minutes."

"Are you sure there's not anything else I can do out here?"

Gideon's gaze locked with hers and, for a moment, he lowered the shield to allow a glimpse of his emotions. The fear and exhaustion and need all swirling together gripped her chest.

"Gideon…" She took a step forward, holding his gaze. "Please let me help." She wanted to help this man more than anything—and not just to prepare for the snow. She wanted to help shoulder his burdens, lighten his load, and make him smile again.

He released a pensive breath, his eyes asking if she really meant it.

"Please," she urged.

"Leah…" With the sound of her name, she saw the tug-of-war playing in his heart. This fear of losing people had such control over him. God, please show him Your peace.

At last, he breathed a sigh. "All right. I need to string a rope between the house and barn, then bring a week's worth of firewood onto the porch."

She nodded. "Let's do it."

While they worked, Leah did her best to think ahead to his next step. It felt right, working beside this man.

When the last load of wood was stacked on the front porch, she turned to scan the yard where the light shone from the lantern Gideon had hung on a post. A few snow flurries drifted down, sending a tingle of excitement through her.

"Look." She pointed toward the light, and he came to stand beside her. He was almost close enough for his arm to brush hers, and his nearness stole every other thought. What would he think if she leaned into him, rested in his strength?

"It's the first snow of winter."

"It's beautiful." She spoke softly so she didn't break the spell created by the darkness, the snow, and his nearness. The flurries were coming thicker now.

"Yes, it is." His voice was low, husky.

She turned to look at him, but his gaze was already intent on her. Her breath caught. When he looked at her that way…

The squeak of the door interrupted her thoughts, as Miriam stepped onto the porch and came to stand beside them.