“The ever-changing weather of Missouri.” He allowed himself to gaze into her eyes for a moment before turning to Rebekah. “Have you finished your errands—excuse me, your walk?” he teased. “Or may I escort you to your next destination?”
“This is the last of it,” Rebekah sighed. “And I’m glad. I want to put my feet up and enjoy an entire pot of strong, hot, sweet tea.”
“Home, then, ladies.” Kris let them lead and followed as they regained Main Street and turned toward the Bittners’ house. They chatted as they went, Rebekah answering Maggie’s questions and pointing out various landmarks, and adding a bit of harmless gossip about some of their neighbors. For a small town, there was more to learn than even Kris realized.
His gaze strayed to Maggie and the way the hem of her skirt brushed the ground with each step. Even wearing a heavy cloak, her shape was obviously feminine. And very pleasing.
When they reached their destination, Kris handed off the packages. Rebekah disappeared inside, but Maggie lingered on the porch with him. “Are you all right?” He searched her face for any sign of her thoughts.
“I’m not ready to go inside,” she admitted.
“Then walk with me.” Kris wasn’t sure who was more surprised by his invitation, but he didn’t want to say goodbye yet, either.
“I’d like that.” Maggie glanced up, a bit shyly. “Let me tell Rebekah I’m going.”
Kris pulled the front door closed to keep the cold out and waited on the porch. What had prompted his blurting out an invitation to Maggie? It was unlike him to act impetuously. Normally, he would have planned the outing and sent a written invitation, giving a young lady enough time to decline if she chose.
Maybe he didn’t want to give Maggie the chance to say no. The thought had him frowning as the door opened again.
“I hope that look isn’t because I said yes.” Maggie paused in the doorway. “Rebekah said to take my time, but we don’t have to go if you—”
“I want to go,” he rushed to correct her. “I was afraid I’d trapped you into accepting when you might have preferred to stay in where it’s warm.”
“Oh, I’m not cold and I want to enjoy the afternoon with you.” A becoming blush slipped up her cheeks. “I mean—”
Her rush to reassure him was charming. “I like what you just said, Maggie.” He offered his arm to escort her. “And I’m not giving you a chance to change your mind.”
They strolled toward the river, chatting about their respective hometowns, experiences they’d each had on their trips west, anything that came to mind. When they ran out of things to talk about, they strolled on in silence, enjoying each other’s company.
Never before had Kris been with a woman who didn’t mind just being quiet together. The few unmarried women in River’s Bend were hardly more than young girls, who’d been taught to fill any silence with witty conversation. Unfortunately, he didn’t share an interest in the topics they invariably chose.
“Is the river always this low in the spring?”
They’d reached a hill that offered a view in both directions before Maggie spoke, bringing Kris’s attention from his thoughts.
“In late winter it isn’t unusual, but we normally get most of our spring rain in March, so it should have risen some by now. When it doesn’t get started until April, like this year, it will come down in buckets once it starts.”
“From the looks of that sky, it could be tonight. Though, it feels cold enough to snow.” Maggie lifted the hood of her cloak and wrapped the dark fabric closer.
“Snow is certainly possible. In the four years I’ve been here, Easter morning dawned to snow more than not, especially when the date falls in late March or early April.”
“Do you like it here?” Maggie turned her back to the water and studied the town laid out before them.
“River’s Bend wasn’t where I expected to find myself, but, yes, it’s a good place to be.” He realized the truth in the words as he spoke. This was a good town filled with mostly good people. There were worse places he might have settled.
Below them, the oak and ash trees were slightly fuzzy with new leaves, and the buttery yellow of forsythia painted the landscape. Flower boxes and yard were showy with sunny jonquils and tulips of many colors. Though the river was still the sluggish gray of winter, the banks and hillsides hinted at spring grass and wildflowers. Another year was beginning.
Facing the river with him, Maggie pointed at the small sea of covered wagons huddled near the river’s bank. “There seem to be lots more wagons there than last week.”
“More than even yesterday.” Kris stepped behind Maggie to block the rising wind. “The need to go west, to see what’s there, to find a new place, a new challenge, will drive thousands through River’s Bend before winter comes again.”
Kris felt a shiver ripple through Maggie. “I’m not sure winter is gone yet for this year.”
“Come along.” He wrapped her fingers around his arm and covered them with his own. “Time to get you inside.”