Page 11 of The Love Knot

“Oh, Pieter,” she said softly, regret thickening her voice, “we’re a pair of fools, aren’t we?” She fiddled with her embroidery, lamenting the jumbled mess she’d made of the threads. “Our pasts are so tangled and snarled, I doubt we’ll ever be put to rights. We’ve too many knots in our way.”

“Good.”

Her eyes jumped to his. “Good? What d’ye mean, good? Knots are a bad thing.”

“Not to my way of thinking.” Something fierce lit Pieter’s eyes as he leaned closer to her. She backed away slightly, but he followed, bending even farther toward her. “I want to be so tangled and knotted up with you that nothing will ever pull us apart again. Not anger, nor hardship, nor hurt, nor even some dunderhead’s idiotic mistakes. No matter what comes, we stick together and work it out.”

Her stomach ached with yearning. He made it sound so easy.

It wouldn’t be.

But maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be impossible, either.

Chapter

6

Pieter hadn’t known quite what to expect from a women’s colony, but the speed at which news spread about Claire’s return was truly remarkable. Ladies poured out of every nook and cranny to swarm the clinic. Nothing stirred a female’s curiosity more than a new man in town.

Pieter shook his head as the latest woman brushed past him. He wasn’t the new man causing the ruckus, of course. Nope. Liam claimed that honor all by himself. The sheer volume of feminine cooing and high-pitched nonsense words being tossed about inside the clinic would have made Diederick proud.

Or jealous. Dirk never had enjoyed anyone else being the center of attention.

Pieter’s smile slipped as he finished unharnessing the rented horse from its cart. How could Dirk turn his back on Polly and the child he’d fathered? The depth of his brother’s selfishness sickened Pieter. Last he’d seen Dirk, he had been pursuing some textile heiress, sure he’d be able to convince the plain, plump young woman to marry him and thereby provide not only a managerial position for himself within her father’s company, but a healthy fortune at the onset thanks to her significant dowry. Her doting father wouldn’t want his only daughter living in any discomfort.

Pieter couldn’t help but secretly wish for the girl’s father to beat Dirk at his own game. Perhaps when negotiating the marriage contract, he would offer a modest dowry and a position within the company only to reveal after the vows had been spoken that the position entailed the lowest, most menial labor. Pieter couldn’t think of a punishment Dirk would hate more than actually having to work for his own advancement. It would serve the bounder right to be cut off from the golden goose he coveted so strongly that he had abandoned his own child to chase it.

Having already secured the goat in the fenced yard behind the clinic, Pieter took one last look at the building before leading the horse back toward town and the water pump he’d spotted near a garden area.

Despite having said the piece he’d traveled halfway across the country to say, nothing had been resolved between him and Claire. She probably needed time, but he didn’t have a lot to offer. He was expected in Snyder in a week, to accept delivery of his dairy cows. He’d hoped to take Claire with him. As his wife. Yet impatience had bungled things for him before, and he’d vowed not to make that mistake a second time. If he had to woo her over the next three years, one day at a time when he came for his monthly visit to see Liam, that was what he’d do. Jacob worked for Rachel for seven years, after all, his love for his woman making the time pass like mere days. Pieter could do the same.

“There’s water and pasture you can use at the station house.”

The deep voice startled Pieter out of his mental wanderings. He jerked his head toward the sound and spotted a man with a gun holstered on his hip leaning casually against a large oak tree beside the local café.

The man pushed away from the tree and strode forward, sunlight glinting off the star on his vest. “Malachi Shaw,” he said as he stretched out his hand.

Pieter returned the handshake, making sure his grip was firm and steady. “Pieter van Duren. I’m a friend of Claire’s.”

“Can’t say I’ve heard her mention you.” Shaw clasped Pieter’s hand longer than necessary, his hold tightening as his gaze probed Pieter’s face.

Pieter endured the scrutiny, straightening his shoulders and lifting his chin. “Our families know each other in New York.”

“How long you planning to stay?”

Pieter squeezed the marshal’s hand, then tugged free. He didn’t mind being measured, but he wouldn’t be intimidated. “I’ve got a room in Seymour for the week. I’ll be making daily visits to Harper’s Station in the interim. Making sure Claire has everything she needs for the babe.”

The marshal hooked his thumbs into the small pockets of his vest, his relaxed stance at odds with the intensity of his stare. “That kid’s arrival has certainly caused a stir. Especially since no one—including Miss Nevin, apparently—knew he was coming.”

He was fishing for details. Pieter wouldn’t be supplying any. He could understand Shaw’s dedication to his duty. Protecting the ladies of Harper’s Station included protecting Claire, and Pieter applauded him for that. But he wasn’t about to spill personal details just to ease this man’s curiosity. He took refuge in silence and an it’s-none-of-your-business stare.

The marshal seemed to accept the closure of that particular road but didn’t give up his questioning. Just jumped to a different path. “So you’ll return to New York after you see the boy settled?”

Pieter crossed his arms over his chest. “No.”

Shaw waited several seconds for Pieter to elaborate. He didn’t.

“So where ya headed?”