At Samuel Price for dying.
At the doctor from eleven years earlier.
At the entire world for giving him exactly what he wanted in a form that felt like betrayal.
He sat on a hay bale.
A mare nudged his shoulder.
Nathaniel pushed her away.
She returned.
“Go.”
The horse ignored him.
Nathaniel rested his elbows on his knees.
A baby.
Under his roof.
He had spent eleven years believing there would never be one.
Now a child existed twenty yards away.
Not his.
That thought hurt.
Then another came.
Not his yet.
Nathaniel hated himself for thinking it.
He was angry.
He had the right to be angry.
Adeline had hidden something enormous.
Marriage required trust.
He barely knew her.
What else had she hidden?
But beneath that was a truth more frightening.
The moment she said she was pregnant, part of him had wanted to ask whether the baby was healthy.
Not who the father was.
Not whether she had used him.
Was the baby healthy?
That scared him.
Nathaniel remained in the barn until snow covered his shoulders.
When he returned, the kitchen was empty.
Adeline’s door upstairs was closed.
He slept badly.
At dawn, Nathaniel heard a trunk being dragged.
He sat up.
Another sound.
He dressed quickly.
Adeline was in the hallway struggling with the larger trunk.
Nathaniel stared.
“What are you doing?”
She froze.
“Leaving.”
“I didn’t tell you to.”
“You shouldn’t have to.”
“Put the trunk down.”
“Nathaniel.”
“Put it down.”
She released the handle.
Nathaniel approached.
Her eyes were swollen from crying.
He hated that.
Still angry.
Still hated it.
“You decided for both of us.”
“I thought—”
“That seems to be your problem.”
Adeline flinched.
Nathaniel regretted the cruelty instantly.
He exhaled.
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
“You’re right.”
“I did decide.”
She touched the trunk.
“You deserved the truth before I came.”
“Yes.”
“I was ashamed.”
“You shouldn't be ashamed of the child.”
“I was ashamed of needing someone.”
Nathaniel understood that.
Too well.
He leaned against the wall.
“Is the baby healthy?”
Adeline looked startled.
“As far as I know.”
“You’ve seen a doctor?”
“Once.”
“When?”
“Before leaving Laramie.”
“And?”
“He said everything looked normal.”
Nathaniel nodded.
“When is the baby expected?”
“Late May.”
He nodded again.
Adeline watched him.
“What are you thinking?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s fair.”
Nathaniel looked toward her stomach.
Nothing obvious beneath the enormous volume of her body and dress.
“Can you feel it?”
“Sometimes.”
“Already?”
“Maybe.”
She smiled faintly.
“It might be digestion.”