Twenty widows stood in a line, children holding their hands with large, sad eyes. Eliza swallowed, feeling overwhelmed and humbled. She’d been so sad about the loss of her mother. But she still had her father, she was still cared and provided for. These women had children and they were all alone.
The funeral was traditional and no one spoke as the bell tolled the dead. Eliza found herself praying for the service to end and for someone to speak to break the grief building inside.
Finally the bell ceased and Eliza wished she could sit on the ground in relief. Honestly, she wished she could sag against Stone’s side. Somehow she was sure his strength would hold her up. But instead, Stone moved away. Her disappointment made her brow furrow as Blair offered her his elbow.
When had she begun craving his touch? It was ridiculous. She’d come here to get answers and ammunition. Eliza needed to know what type of man he was. It was the only way she might possibly escape from her father’s mad plan.
Stone stood by the large rock that would mark the lost men. The widows lined up and one by one, he greeted them, holding their hands and offering them condolences.
Another pang reverberated in her chest. He’d buried his parents yesterday and yet it was his job to comfort them today. She watched him hand each woman an envelope. She’d seen him holding them on the carriage ride here, saw her father give them to Stone.
When he’d given out the third one, the woman nodded, her light brown hair hanging in her face as she pulled one child and carried the other on her hip. Her eyes were vacant, haunted as she moved away. It made Eliza ache more deeply than she had during the funeral and she could barely hold in her tears while the woman continued on and the next in line approached.
“Merciful saints,” the brown-haired widow, who had just passed through the line, let out a yell. Eliza snapped her gaze back to the lady. Her vacant stare had come to life while she stared in the envelope.
A murmur rose through the crowd as she pushed her way back toward Stone. Without warning she set down the little one perched on her hip and threw her arms about him.
“Thank ye,” she cried. “I’ve been so worried and this is more…” A sob made her words trail off.
Stone looked at Eliza completely bewildered. But Eliza beamed at him. He was giving the widows a monetary gift to help them find their way. Her heart swelled in a way it hadn’t in weeks. He gave the woman an awkward pat on the back. “It’s the least I can do,” he murmured.
Her littlest toddled away; Stone reached down and easily picked up the child, handing her back to her mother. His massive hands were gentle, tender as he handed the child over and something deep inside Eliza tugged. The way he handled children made him beautiful.
“Oh my lord,” another of the widows, who opened her envelope, cried.
“Ladies.” Stone shifted as the other widows pushed toward the front of the line. His deep voice stilled them. “It is only a gesture of my sympathy fer yer loss, I don’t want to sully their memor—”
Eliza realized he was about to insult them without meaning to, but reprimanding their behavior now would be unforgivable. “What his lord means to say is that he knows this wasn’t the best time to pass out recompense but he saw no other opportunity to see you all received it at the same time without inconveniencing you in an already difficult time. You will all get your envelopes.” She gestured for them to push back a little and give each other room.” Then she turned to Blair. “Perhaps you could aid your brother to get the gifts out faster.”
His eyes widened, but he nodded and took several envelopes from Stone. Then stepping down the line he began to hand them out.
The two men quickly finished the task but it took another hour before they could leave. Women, children, and even some of the other miners who’d attended the funeral stopped to speak with Stone. He responded patiently and graciously even if he didn’t smile very often.
He had gently patted the heads of several children and she watched many of them play at his feet or hang upon his legs. He barely took notice, unless it was to wink at them or ruffle their hair.
When they finally climbed into the carriage, Eliza felt spent, and she hadn’t done a quarter of what he had today.
And she hadn’t accomplished her goal. She couldn’t very well go back to her father and demand he change his plans because Stone had taken care of widows. She should be upset by the fact that she hadn’t accomplished what she had hoped. Instead, she was grateful.
Though it was not the information she’d hoped to discover, she couldn’t think about that now. This was a beautiful moment. Tomorrow she’d remember that he was too hard. That he was the lord growing richer and fatter off the backs of the people.
They rode back to the house in silence and once again, Stone allowed his brothers to exit first. Before he climbed out to hand her out, he turned to her. “Miss McLaren,” his voice rumbled next to her. “Eliza,” she corrected. Not only had he saved her today, he’d saved twenty other women. It deserved a certain familiarity.
He cleared his throat. “Eliza, thank ye fer yer help with the crowd today. I dunnea ken how I would have done it without ye. I don’t always have the gentlest manner of speaking.”
She stared at him then, blinking. “Yer thanking me?” Then, she launched herself across the little space that separated them and threw her arms about his neck. “I should thank you.” Her breath came in short gasps as his muscles made contact with her much softer body. She’d gone mad, clearly. But she’d been angry that no one cared about the downtrodden and no one helped. And today, today he’d made a difference.
“Fer what?” he whispered in the confines of the carriage but his voice reverberated through her nonetheless.
“Fer saving me this morning.” She pulled back a little to look into his face though her arms were still twined about his neck. But that might have been a mistake. From this angle, he didn’t appear ferocious or menacing. He looked…handsome. What was more, his hands at her waist were achingly gentle. She remembered how he’d touched the children, carefully as though they were blown glass. How could a man that large be so sweet? “And for helping those women. I’ve been so caught in my own grief I’d lost perspective of how much worse my situation could be. But you didn’t. You helped those in need even though you’ve lost so much too.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Don’t thank me too much. I dunnae ken how to help most of the people here, which is why I need yer father. And that requires ye to make sacrifices too. Yer help
in’ as much as I am.”
She realized her mouth was hanging open and she snapped it closed. “I hadn’t thought of that. My contribution is so small.”
He gave her a soft grin. She nearly groaned aloud, he was devastating now. “Dunnae worry. If ye want to help, I am sure I can find ways fer ye tae. Yer time here won’t be spent idle.” He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Besides, yer a fair sight more diplomatic than the Sinclairs. We might need ye even more than ye think.”