They had reached the woodpile, and Annabelle began picking up the wood they’d need for the fire. “This used to be like a second home to me. But anymore—”
“You don’t want to get involved,” he said quietly.
She straightened, then stared hard at him. “Why would I? Leadville might be a fast-growing city sure to rival Denver, but it is still a dangerous place. People get sick, people die, outlaws come, or they tire of trying to strike it rich and head home. Or worse, they do strike it rich. But you know what they do then? They leave. Even the Tabors, with their magnificent opera house, do you think they spend their days in this place? No. They have their mansion in Denver, just like everyone else.”
The back of her throat had a slight tickle, like everything she’d been going through wasn’t enough.
“You want my honesty, Joseph? Here’s honest. You’ve offered me friendship. But where will that leave me? If you find your father’s silver, you will head home to your family. One more person I care about gone. Trust me, remaining unattached is the only way I can survive. I’ve lost too much.”
She turned to head back to the camp, her ankle giving slightly as she stepped on it. Well, she’d endure it. Just as she’d endure Joseph’s silence every painful step of the way home.
Because in the end, he knew she was right. Her father was worried she might form a romantic attachment to the man, but given that she could barely afford for her heart to like him as a friend, falling in love was simply not an option.
Clearly, Joseph knew it, too.
Annabelle paused near a darkened tent and even darker fire to rest for a moment.
“Excuse me.” A woman poked her head out of the tent. “Could you spare some wood?”
Her throbbing ankle screamed no, but the wail of a baby from inside the tent made her heart insist.
“Of course.” She made one trip, she could do another.
Annabelle set the wood in the woman’s fire pit and tried to stir up some of the coals, but she could already tell there was no heat left in them.
“Why don’t I bring you a coal from our fire?”
The woman rewarded her with a soft smile. “Thank you. I’m afraid I haven’t gotten the hang of mining camp life.”
“It’s no trouble at all. I’ll return shortly.” At least without the weight of the wood in her arms, the pressure on her foot wasn’t so bad.
When they were out of earshot, Joseph said, “You’re a better person than you think, Annabelle Lassiter.”
“Not really. I’m just doing my duty. The woman needs help. You can’t turn a blind eye to a woman needing help.”
“Many would,” Joseph said quietly.
Not a Lassiter. But this wasn’t an argument she needed to have with him. Not in the interest of keeping their distance. Joseph did things to her heart that she didn’t like. Made her feel things that she didn’t want to feel, least of all for a man like him.
They returned to the cabin, where Gertie had already started breakfast.
“I’m sorry it took so long,” Annabelle said by way of partial apology and as an introduction to the situation with the woman she’d just met.
Polly glared at her. “You can’t even get wood.”
Annabelle tried counting to ten, and she tried to hold her temper. But honestly...how much was she supposed to take? Her father would tell her to turn the other cheek, but what did that look like when someone else was constantly belittling you?
“Actually,” she said with as much calm as she could muster, “I met a woman on the way back who asked if she could have some wood. She’s new here, and she had a baby crying in the tent. I gave my load to her, and I’m bringing her some hot coals to get her fire going again.”
Polly’s indrawn breath wasn’t nearly as satisfying as it should be. She didn’t want to get in the jabs against her former friend, the way Polly was keen on doing to her. All she wanted was peace to reign again.
Annabelle’s words sprang Gertie into action. “Oh, that poor dear. I wonder if that’s Isaac Johanson’s wife. I meant to call on her yesterday, but with everything...” She cast an apologetic look at Annabelle.
“It’s all right. I’m sure you can visit with her later. But right now, I’d like to get some coals to her. It’s chilly out still.”
Gertie rewarded her with a smile. “Yes, I think that’s good.” She handed Annabelle a bucket with some coals in it.
“If you’ll give me just a moment, I’ll send you with some leftover biscuits. It isn’t much, but with a jug of coffee, it’ll take the edge off. You’ll invite her to have breakfast with us, won’t you?”
Annabelle tried to nod, but Gertie kept talking and piling things into a basket. “Give her one of these blankets. I like to keep them on hand for the new little ones.”
Gertie bustled past her and for a moment, Annabelle forgot that her world had changed so completely. It was like the old days, when Gertie and her mother had conspired together to make sure everyone had what they needed. Just last Christmas, they had come together to make sure every child in the camp had received a gift.
Annabelle’s heart constricted. It had been their last major project before her mother had gotten ill. She took a deep breath and swallowed her unshed tears. Her mother would have loved this.
A sleepy-eyed Nugget came down the stairs. “Where did you go? I was lonesome without you.”
For all of Annabelle’s promises to keep her heart to herself, loving this sweet child was irresistible. Her heart did another flip. Joseph’s reminder of his impermanence in her life was something that she’d do well to continue remembering. When Joseph left, so would Nugget.
But when the little girl jumped into her arms, Annabelle couldn’t stop herself from hugging her
