The finality in his voice pricked her heart, a small stream of pain bleeding out like tears for what would never be. What could never be.
Releasing a breathy laugh, she stepped back into the cabin. “I do not fear your companionship, Nathaniel.”
“Then what do you fear?”
She spun around and though she painted a vacant expression on her exterior, her insides screamed. How I want to tell you!
Nathaniel stepped toward her, his broad frame blocking the light from the door. “I would take away every fear that plagues you, Kitty. You must know that.”
The love she tried to restrain pushed from the shadows of her spirit and ran to him, but stalled when God’s admonition suddenly poured over her.
Trust him.
Was Nathaniel the one God had sent for her to trust, to learn from? Truly, she had never known so much peace, so much clarity as when Nathaniel was near. Perhaps this was God’s answer.
Nathaniel’s powerful gaze held her motionless. He moved nearer, until only inches away. The power of his closeness stole her every thought. She could hear him breathe, see the throb of his pulse in his neck.
Trust him.
A half-smile framed his mouth. “Eliza told me you’d left to take a walk. Why would you do such a thing?” He stopped and looked around the cabin, then back at her. “You know you are too ill to be venturing any farther than the kitchen.”
Kitty forced a relaxed laugh, which Nathaniel would likely see through, but she still must try. Pasting a sly smile to her lips, she pretended not to catch his meaning. “Well, clearly I wasn’t as ill as you seem to think, was I?”
“Are you telling me my assessment of your condition was wrong?”
Somehow the commanding quality of his timbre snapped at the brevity she struggled to uphold. Another breeze brushed past and his familiar scent of mint and apple made her close her eyes. Perhaps... perhaps I can trust him.
She studied her fingers before meeting his unwavering stare. “Nay. I know that you are never wrong.”
She looked down and focused on her hands once more. If he suspected her vulnerability, pulling the unbearable truth from her would be as easy as plucking a drooping flower from its stem.
Nathaniel’s voice wound around her as the wind danced through the cabin. “Allow me to ask you again.” He lowered his chin. “What are you doing here?”
>
“’Tis true I... I simply wanted to—”
She stopped when his disbelieving stare pinned her lips shut.
One eyebrow lifted. “You wouldn’t have left the house unless it was urgent and you certainly wouldn’t come to this place alone, unless you needed to.” He sighed. “Do you not remember I saw you come from here when you claimed to be making deliveries for the poor.” He stopped and his eyebrows lowered. “Clearly, no one lives here.”
She hugged her arms around her chest and wriggled in her ever-tightening stays. “What are you suggesting?”
Looking away, he ground his teeth before meeting her gaze. “Nothing particular, I just... I worry that perhaps...” He raised his arms then dropped them with a grunt. “Blast it, Kitty, I can’t do this.”
Her heart rapped behind her lungs. “Do what?”
He stepped closer, grasping her arms. “I can no longer pretend I am ignorant of your sufferings.” The pain in his eyes deepened. His voice grew soft and caressed the sorrows in her heart. “Tell me all, Kitty, and I will do everything I can to make it right.”
Hot tears welled. “I... I can’t.”
“You can.” He pulled her to him. The spark of indignation in his eyes was enough to ignite the few sticks in the hearth behind her. “You need not fear, Kitty, I vow it.”
She stared at him, clenching her teeth as the words crouched on her tongue.
Trust him.
Closing her eyes, she prayed. Lord, I don’t know if I can.