Clay frowned; he hadn't meant to sound so cruel, but he knew he had. Charlie went toward her. "You can't leave now. We'll figure something out."
"I am a burden and I do not wish to be." She explained. "It is clear your son does not wish me to be here. So, I must go."
"You don't understand, Clay isn't used to having a woman around. He's been a bachelor too long. He didn't mean to be rude. Please, forgive him." Charlie looked back at Clay, who was watching them. "You aren't a burden. It's just— you see my son and I have been here alone for a lot of years. That's all."
"You owe me no explanation. I do not belong here." She insisted. "I must find my place."
"Then where do you belong?" Charlie asked.
She stared at the old man, and one lone tear drifted down her cheek. "I do not know… had my father lived, I might could answer that, but he did not. I must find my way."
"Then it's settled, you'll stay." Charlie affirmed.
"I do not think that would be wise. And I do understand." She said turning away again. "I will not make trouble for you."
"Did your father have a place you were going to or something?"
Willa bowed her head. "No, my father had no home, he wandered the prairies picking up jobs where he went. But when he came to get me, he was determined to make a home for us somewhere. I do not know where."
"My son meant no offense. We're just bachelors set in our ways; I suppose. And look at the place, it isn't fit for a woman, but we can change that."
"Where are your women?" she asked, as though it just occurred to her to ask.
"My wife died some years back, and Clay, he's never been married." Charlie explained.
She glanced at Clay for a moment. "He is a fine warrior."
Charlie stared at her for a moment, as though something clicked in his head, and he slowly smiled.
Clay heard her and his head jerked to stare at her. And for the first time in his life, he was really looking at a woman. His gaze went from the t
op of her beautiful black hair to her mocassins clad feet. She was small, and yet well built for a woman. In the deerskin dress she wore, her figure was outlined quite well. Something stirred within Clay just looking at her that way. It doesn't make any sense, why this woman?
"We've fought our share of Indians, meaning no disrespect." Clay told her as he came toward them.
Charlie smiled and looked at Clay. "Actually, we could use you. I can't cook too good and the house could sure use a woman's touch. We could build another room on, and you and the baby could have that room."
"Oh but…. I do not think so. People would talk and give you trouble for having me in your home. I will not bring grief upon you."
"Come to think of it, that's a really good idea. We've been talking about a cook lately too." Charlie snickered.
"Can you cook?" Clay asked.
"Yes, I can cook." She said. "But I don't think…. "
"You let me do the thinking." Charlie grinned. "In fact, why don’t you make something now. Nothing makes a man more agreeable than a good meal." He said and cast his son a glance.
Clay watched his father and Willa and smiled.
Charlie showed her around the kitchen, and she got started. It was plain she didn't think this would work, but the old man insisted, so she began preparing a good meal.
By dark she had a meal ready and hollered out the door, "It's ready."
Charlie nodded and went to get Clay out in the pasture. Charlie had put her father out in the lean to on a board.
When Clay saw what his father was up to, he studied him a long time, but didn't say anything.
Willa had set the table for the three of them. She had prepared chicken and dumplings, something Clay and Charlie hadn't had in a long time. In fact, Clay didn't remember having dumplings since his mother died ten years ago.