Free From This Day Forward by Margaret Daley Page B

eased onto its wooden seat. “When you talked about your grandfather, I didn’t understand the extent of his hatred toward the English.”
    “I apologize for how he treated you. What happened to our family was thirty-seven years ago. You had nothing to do with it. He has become unreasonable in his old age, and I told him that this morning.” His grandfather’s anger still gripped Nathan, coiling his gut into a hard knot.
    “Does he know that Amos came to fix the cart?”
    “No. Patrick insisted Amos come in spite of how Grandfather felt.”
    “What if he finds out about Amos? Will Amos get in trouble?” Rachel entwined her hands so tightly her knuckles whitened.
    “He will not find out. When I left the house, Patrick was helping Grandfather back to his bedchamber. His outburst sapped his energy.”
    “Is he all right?”
    Nathan bolted to his feet. “You are worried about a man who threw you off his land because you were born in England.”
    “He is your grandfather, and you have done so much for me.”
    One corner of his mouth quirked up. “It probably didn’t help that you were with me.”
    “But you stayed by his side and nursed him for two days. Surely that meant something to him.”
    The fury he had faced this morning in the dining room told him otherwise. “I prefer not to discuss my grandfather anymore. It will not change his mind about how he feels about me.”
    “Then could you tell me when Faith should start eating solid food? She is constantly nursing. Is that normal? Is that…” She gasped, her hand to her mouth. “I should not have asked you that. I know you are a doctor, but…” Her strangled voice came to a halt.
    Nathan couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment or the heat from the fire flushing her cheeks—or both. He compressed his lips to still a smile. “I don’t know. I realize that some physicians are delivering babies more and more, but I am afraid my experience is limited to older patients. Mostly soldiers and their ailments and wounds.”
    “I am sure I shall figure it out.” Her expression full of doubt, Rachel yawned. “It has been a long day, and tomorrow will be another one, with you taking me to my farm.” Rising, she gave him a smile. “I cannot thank you enough for helping me these past five days. Good night.”
    Nathan watched her disappear into the other room, the words he needed to say to her on the tip of his tongue. But he couldn’t tell her he was not going to take her to her land tomorrow. He had one last thing he would try to talk her out of staying at Dalton Farm. If that did not work, he didn’t know what he was going to do.
    Turning back to the blaze, he stared at the yellow and orange flames. An idea began to take shape in his mind. Perhaps he should write her family in England and tell them of her plight. He gathered his writing supplies and sat in front of the fire to do just that.
    When he finished, a restlessness still claimed him. He paced the main room, trying to figure out what else was nagging him. Bits and pieces of his conversation with Patrick infiltrated his mind. It had been five years since he had written his mother in England. Even if she wanted nothing to do with her children, he was going to write her a letter to let her know what was happening to them. He was not doing it for his mother but for himself. This sense of abandonment overcame him every time he thought about her. The same feeling he glimpsed in Rachel.
    Is that why I cannot leave her at the farm and walk away?

Six
    “I don’t understand why you cannot take me to my farm today,” Rachel said, cradling Faith close to her while she sat on the cart seat next to Nathan. He was so near his arm continually brushed hers as he held the reins. Perhaps she should have brought Maddy with her instead of traveling alone with Nathan, but this morning her maid had wanted to try to follow Pinecrest’s cook’s instruction on how to make tallow candles.
    “I thought you might like to