Caleb’s mouth tightened.
“You cannot keep my child from me.”
“I haven’t decided anything about you yet.”
“You don’t decide alone.”
Nathaniel moved slightly.
Not in front.
Beside.
Caleb noticed.
“And what is he?”
Evelyn looked at Nathaniel.
Then back.
“A man who stopped when everyone else kept walking.”
Caleb sneered.
“You sleeping with him?”
Nathaniel stepped forward instantly.
Evelyn placed one hand against his arm.
He stopped.
She looked at Caleb.
“You do not get to ask me that.”
“I’m the father.”
“You’re a man who disappeared.”
Caleb pointed.
“I will have my child.”
Evelyn’s voice became cold.
“You will not threaten me on this porch.”
Caleb looked at Nathaniel.
“You letting her speak to me like that?”
Nathaniel almost smiled.
“Letting?”
Caleb’s expression shifted.
Nathaniel said only:
“She just did.”
Silence.
Caleb left angry.
He returned two days later with a lawyer.
The lawyer was not villainous.
That surprised Evelyn.
Older man.
Gray suit.
Polite.
He explained Caleb wanted written assurance regarding access after birth.
Evelyn listened.
Then asked:
“Did he tell you how we arrived in Kansas?”
The lawyer glanced at Caleb.
“He said there was a disagreement.”
Evelyn laughed.
“A disagreement?”
She told him.
Station.
Coach east.
Money.
Six hours.
The lawyer’s expression changed.
Not dramatically.
Enough.
Caleb interrupted:
“She was safe.”
“You didn’t know that.”
Evelyn’s voice shook with fury.
“You didn’t stay long enough to find out.”
The lawyer raised one hand.
“Mr. Mercer.”
Caleb stopped.
The lawyer looked at Evelyn.
“I recommend you obtain your own legal advice.”
“I will.”
He nodded.
Then Caleb tried again.
“You’re making this difficult.”
Evelyn stood.
“No.”
“You did that.”
Nathaniel remained near the wall.
Silent.
Caleb turned toward him.
“Say something.”
Nathaniel looked at Evelyn.
Then at Caleb.
“She already did.”
Again.
Those three words.
Different form.
Same meaning.
Nathaniel would not replace Evelyn’s voice simply because he was larger.
That night, she cried.
Not from fear.
Release.
Nathaniel found her sitting on the porch after dark.
He sat beside her.
No touching.
At first.
Evelyn whispered:
“I hate that he can still make me feel small.”
Nathaniel looked toward the pasture.
“He didn’t.”
She laughed bitterly.
“You weren’t inside me.”
“No.”
He turned.
“But I watched you.”
Evelyn looked at him.
“You were terrified.”
“And you spoke anyway.”
“That’s not small.”
Her eyes filled.
Nathaniel added:
“Courage that doesn’t cost anything isn’t courage.”
Evelyn reached for his hand.