She gathered the strength to meet his gaze square on.
His smile softened. “We’ll talk soon enough, Katherine.” A light danced in the depths of his steel-gray eyes.
Apprehension nipped at the back of her neck. “What do you want to talk to my Pa about?” Katherine blurted out the words before her head had time to catch up to her mouth. “If it’s about that incident before the war—”
“Goodness no, Katherine. I told you that would remain between us.” A flicker of disappointment shot across his face.
She shifted in the rocking chair as his intense stare bore down.
Why was he looking at her like that?
She jumped to her feet and inadvertently brushed against him. A quick step back set the rocker swaying, and she stumbled forward as it hit her in back of the legs. He reached out to steady her and held on.
She breathed in a woodsy mixture of pine and leather. A tingling sensation worked its way up her arms, as the warmth from his large but gentle hands penetrated through the thin cotton sleeves of her well-worn dress.
Abruptly turning, she distanced herself. “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Richardson, I will fetch Pa. I mean—Father for you.”
***
She was thankful the men settled on the front porch away from her. Katie was glad to stay hidden in the background helping in the kitchen.
Ma fussed about as if the king had come for tea. She pulled out the best dishes, Aunt May’s serving tray and good cutlery. Her constant prattle set Katie’s nerves on edge.
“How embarrassing we don’t have tea. That blasted war is not over, even when it’s over. Her grumbles grew louder. “When will we be able to get decent supplies that don’t cost an arm and a leg?”
“Katie,” Ma said, “set the Sassafras to steep on the stove and, Amelia, fetch me a few springs of mint from the garden.”
“May, do we have any of your tea biscuits left, or did the kids eat them all?”
Her Aunt May threw a gentle arm around Ma’s shoulder and smiled. “Yes, there’s plenty. Now take a deep breath, Doris.”
Katie wished yet again she had that kind of relationship with her ma.
Aunt May gave a squeeze to Doris’s shoulder and moved to the counter. She lifted the checkered cloth that covered the tea biscuits and placed the plate onto the tray. “Why don’t you go sit with them, and I’ll bring everything out when the tea is ready?”
“No, I won’t meddle in men talk, but Jeb asked specifically that Katherine serve the tea.
Aunt May swung around. Her eyes widened when Ma gave a slight nod.
Something was up. Katherine wasn’t sure what.
“Katherine, go tidy yourself up and fix your bun, you look unkempt.”
“But, Ma, when have you ever cared what I look like—”
“For heaven’s sakes, Katherine, is there ever a moment when you do as I say and don’t argue with me?” She threw up her hands. “Go.”
Aunt May stood behind her ma and shook her head, motioning to Katherine to not engage. Katie huffed out a deep breath.
“And change out of that old work dress. Put on your Sunday—”
Katherine spun around. “Mr. Richardson has already seen me out on the porch when he arrived, and if my dress was good enough then, its good enough now.” She slipped into the bedroom before Ma could say another word.
When she reentered the kitchen, both Ma and Aunt May stood side-by-side at the sink snapping off the ends of fresh beans from the garden. Their chatter filled the room.
“We can’t live here much longer. We’ve imposed upon your family enough. This house barely squeezed in the four of you without adding the seven of us, and now with another young’un on the way—”
“God will provide, Doris. Maybe, just maybe, salvation sits on our front porch as we speak.”
“And just what does that mean?” Katie asked.
They jumped apart and whirled around.
Aunt May recovered quickly. She masked the odd light of hope in her eyes. “Oh, Katie girl, you scared us sneaking up like that.” Her laughter filled the room. “You always did have the stealth of an Indian brave.” She motioned toward the table. “The tray is ready to go. Would you be a dear and take that out?”
Katie frowned but did their bidding. She swung open the screen with a tad too much frustration. The door swung wide and crashed against the house before slamming shut.
Good one—so much for making myself invisible.
Both Pa and Mr. Richardson stopped talking. Katie felt their eyes upon her though she refused to look up. She set the tray gingerly on the small table between them with a quick escape in mind.
Mr. Richardson caught and held her gaze. “Thank you, Katherine.” A row of straight white teeth widened into a full smile as he boldly captured her attention.
Propriety demanded she answer. “You are mo-most welcome, Mr. Richardson.” She forced a slight upward curve to her lips and hated the fact she stammered.
“Can you pour us each a cup, Katie girl?” Pa asked.
Her hands trembled as she lifted the pot, and she spilled a bit of the first pour onto the saucer. She gave that one to Pa hoping Mr. Richardson had not noticed. One sideward glance told her his eyes were still pinned on her. Determination held her steady as she poured and handed the second cup. Their hands brushed against each other, his rough, hers soft. She pulled away as if she had touched hot coals and beelined for the door.
“Katherine, come sit with us for a few minutes,” Pa said.
She kept walking. “I have to help Ma with supper preparations. You know how she is when I shirk my work.” She disappeared inside before he could protest.
The safety of the kitchen never felt so good. She blew out a deep breath as the door slammed on its hinges behind her. There was something about Mr. Richardson’s familiarity that unnerved her. Not to mention the breadth of his wide
