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    â€œMiss Abbott,” Clay said—and waited for her to blush.
    She obliged as she scrambled to her feet, pulling her skirt free to cover her petticoats once again.
    He liked what that added color did to her appearance, and it took great effort to keep from smiling. “You’ve had an exhausting journey from Massachusetts. Shouldn’t you rest for at least one day?”
    â€œI needed something to do, and the house needed a good cleaning.”
    Luvena Abbott was a lady, through and through. She hadn’t been taught how to scrub floors as a girl. He’d bet his life on it.
    â€œYou don’t mind, do you?” she asked, brows raised.
    â€œNo. I don’t mind.” He let his gaze roam. She’d done more than scrub the kitchen floor while he was over at the theater. “You’ve been busy this afternoon.”
    Amusement curved the corners of her mouth. “Idle hands are the devil’s playground.” As quickly as it had come, the smile disappeared. “Mr. Birch, we must talk about . . . about what we are going to do. The children and I cannot continue to stay in your home since there is to be no wedding. And I must find some way to provide for them. I do not want and cannot accept your charity any longer than necessary.”
    He believed her. There was pride in her eyes. Not the kind of pride that said a person thought they were better than others. No, hers was the pride of someone who believed what the Bible said—if any would not work, neither should he eat. She didn’t want life handed to her on a platter. She didn’t want her hands to be idle.
    His admiration for her increased with that understanding, but admiration didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t be a parent to those children. For their sake, if not his own.
    So what’s the answer?
    â€¢â€¢â€¢
    Luvena waited for Clay Birch to respond. She’d learned that he wasn’t quick to speak. At least not most of the time. She liked that about him. He was thoughtful. He weighed and considered his words. Even in his anger yesterday, when he believed she’d lied to him in her letters, he hadn’t been cruel with his words. Or in any other way. He could have left them in Boise City to fend for themselves. He could have been indifferent to her financial circumstances. But instead, he’d shown compassion. She believed him to be good and honest and upright. All attributes she’d hoped for in a husband.
    If things were different, if we’d met under other circumstances, perhaps — She cut off the thought. It served no purpose to wish for things that might have been.
    â€œMaybe we should take a walk, Miss Abbott, so we won’t be interrupted.”
    She knew what he meant: So the children won’t hear what I’m going to say .
    He continued, “I can show you more of the town, and we can stop at the mercantile to get supplies for our supper.”
    Hearing the kindness in his voice caused tears to well in Luvena’s eyes. She quickly looked away, hoping he hadn’t seen them. “I’ll tidy up first. It won’t take me long.” She hurried into the bedroom and closed the door.
    There was no dressing table, this being a bachelor’s room. The only mirror was a small oval above the washbasin on a corner table. Not large enough to see her full head and hair, let alone her entire body. She would have to make herself presentable without the aid of a mirror. At least she could be thankful she was no longer freshening up in the tiny lavatory of a train’s passenger car that rocked from side to side.
    With her face washed, her hair smoothed and controlled with hairpins, and her apron removed, Luvena said a quick prayer for wisdom, then opened the bedroom door. Clay sat on a straight-backed chair in the corner of the parlor . . . with Elsie on his knee. They were looking at an open book in the young girl’s