Morning light steadily erased the cabin's shadows. Silas's head weighed heavy in his palms, and his elbows protested being smashed against the table's hard wood.

In the loft, in his new bed, Anthony snored, a peaceful sound rasping against Silas's inner turmoil.

He'd need to wake Anthony soon so he'd have enough time to walk to school. He'd been trying to draw Anthony out over breakfast the last several days, but at the moment, he'd rather not talk at all. He wasn't sure he could keep a pleasant expression on his face or friendly banter going this morning.

Not that his son responded much to him lately. Anthony used no more words than necessary-with him anyway.

But he understood his son's reticence. Hadn't it taken him a long time to feel comfortable enough to talk to the adults in the mines and the mill when he was not much older than Anthony? Trust took time.

And yet, he'd trusted Kate too quickly.

How could he be certain she'd stay after what he'd learned? He might consider gambling with his own life, but Anthony's?

Beyond trying to forge a relationship with his son, he didn't want to worry about anything except his farm right now. Livestock and fences and repairs didn't hurt to think about.

His aching heart told him to let Kate go and be done with women. The single men who played chess at the post office every week would certainly champion that decision, but his mind insisted he think things through before he talked to Kate again. He needed time for his heart to stabilize.

Or maybe the memories of her fiery kisses were wreaking havoc with his decision making.

The floorboards creaked above him. No more snoring.

He sighed. He should've had the biscuits and preserves on the table already, and a lunch packed for school. He'd only just started the coffee.

"Aren't we having breakfast?" Anthony scratched his belly and yawned. His hair stood up like a rooster's comb.

"Let me get it." Silas pulled biscuits from the tin and grabbed a spoon for the jar of peach preserves he'd bought from a neighbor woman.

"When's Miss Dawson coming? I bet she'd make us flapjacks."

Yes, this question. He'd pondered what to tell him all night. Maybe he'd been too hasty. He should give her a chance to prove herself for Anthony's sake, but he wouldn't keep a quick wedding date just to make Anthony happy either.

If she stayed in Salt Flatts for a while or so, with no promise they'd reconcile, he might muster up enough faith to believe she'd stay for good. Lucy had only stayed for seven months. Should he make Kate wait that long?

He hated dealing with the uncertain future.

"I'm not sure when she'll come." There. That was true and shouldn't worry the boy.

Anthony slathered more preserves than necessary on a broken biscuit and sighed. "I was hoping for sugared flapjacks on my birthday."

Silas blinked. "When's your birthday?"

"Next Wednesday."

Great. The best gift he could give him was time with Kate-but only a few days after they were supposed to marry? How could he spend time with her so soon? Thankfully Anthony would leave for school in a little while, and Silas could tend animals and think. "What would you like to do on Wednesday? Maybe eat in town after school?"

"At the hotel?" When Silas nodded, Anthony's eyes grew wide. "I can't wait to tell Miss Dawson!"

Silas pressed his lips tight to keep from telling him she wasn't invited. If he could work things out in his head, then courting her slowly could help him be certain of her. Maybe she'd run before he gathered the nerve to start where he should have-asking questions, not proposing marriage.

Why had God allowed him to become attached to a woman with her history? God knew their pasts and yet hadn't warned him away until he'd kissed her two times too many.

Anthony shouldn't learn of his trouble with Kate though. If they patched things up, he didn't want Anthony anxious about her abandoning them one day. Which meant he'd have to invite her to Anthony's birthday, ready to see her or not.

"What about getting frozen custard instead?" Sitting down with Kate while Mrs. Studdard hovered around them again didn't sound fun, and ice cream would cost less. "We could get some at Frank's Confectionary."

"Ice cream?" The boy jumped from his chair, knocking it over. "I've never had ice cream before." He ran over and hugged Silas.

He crushed his son to his chest. The boy wrenched loose within seconds, then ran for the ladder. Silas closed his eyes and imagined holding him a little longer. How long had it been since he'd been hugged? He couldn't remember anyone hugging him after Jonesey had embraced him the night before he left the orphanage for the last time, and Lucy had never been very affectionate. . . .

And Anthony had only hugged him because he'd been promised an expensive dessert.

If he wasn't careful, he'd break the bank buying ice cream with the hope that Anthony would wrap his arms around him again.

Maybe they'd be all right without Kate. The boy would warm up with time . . . or at least lots of ice cream.

"Miss Dawson!"

Anthony zipped in through the door into the boardinghouse's parlor, where Kate had worked all afternoon trying to attach the sleeves of her new gown. She'd already reworked them twice. A shame to leave the dress undone, even if she never wore it for a wedding.

Anthony skidded to a halt in front of her. "Mr. Jonesey said we could have ice cream next Wednesday after school."

"What?" The needle pricked her finger, and she sucked air through her teeth.

"For my birthday." He practically bounced on his toes. "Have you had ice cream before?"

And she'd thought Anthony would've been devastated once he learned they'd called off the wedding, but it seemed that ice cream made everything better for a child-if only it could make things better for her.

"Well, have you?"

She forced a smile on her face to match his-just the shape, not the joy behind it. "Once, when I was your age." After that, her brother-in-law deemed it a luxury wasted on her and never gave her pocket change again. "It's wonderful stuff, a good birthday present." She'd intended to bake him cookies. Her mother had always made her cookies for breakfast on her birthday, and she'd looked forward to starting the tradition with Anthony.

She tried to keep her face cheerful so as not to dull his excitement, but all she wanted to do was go upstairs and cry.

Especially since the boy didn't seem to care she wasn't marrying his pa anymore. Maybe he'd warmed up enough to Silas already that he didn't need her. Her breath hitched.

"It's hard to sit as stiff as a board like Mrs. Owens wants us to. Especially because I couldn't wait to come see you. I wish you were my teacher again. You never made us sit so long. Do you think she'd mind if you came to recess and ran with us? The boys don't believe that you can run faster than most anybody, even with your big skirts."

So that's why he wasn't concerned about them getting married. He expected her to stay in town no matter what. "I'm not sure your teacher would agree, especially since I'm not a school employee. How about I race you after church on Sunday? I'll wear my running boots." She wouldn't need her pretty slippers for an after-service wedding anymore anyway.

"Will you run with me every Sunday?"

She swallowed. If he wasn't disappointed that she wasn't getting married, how easily would he get over her leaving? "As long as I don't have to go away."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Why would you go away?"

"I have to find someplace to work. If I can't find a job in Salt Flatts, I might have to look elsewhere."

His face lost its joy. "Why can't you teach at my school?"

"It's a long explanation." She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "But I promise I'll try to find something in town."

"If you got married right away, would you be able to stay?"

Did he not care to whom? She nodded, her heart feeling a tad bit lighter. At least he still wanted her around.

"Well, then, why don't you just get married?"

Thankfully Silas hadn't bad-mouthed her if Anthony thought someone else would want her now. "I don't think I can marry anybody fast enough to keep me from needing a job." And even if she could, she'd never get suckered into contemplating a quick marriage again. And this time she meant it!

"You'd marry someone besides Mr. Jonesey? But I wanted you to be my mother." He yanked away from her, a snarl on his lips. "That's why you came."

"Don't blame-"

But the boy had already pivoted and run from the parlor. The front door slammed, rattling the knickknacks on the shelving.

Fannie, the boardinghouse owner and the postmaster's estranged wife, shuffled in, drying her hands on a towel. She looked out the window. "Why's he running off like his pants are on fire?"

"Grown-ups aren't as fun as he wants them to be." She fingered the sleeve draped over her chair's arm. She wasn't ready to explain things to Fannie right now. She'd not told her about Silas calling off the wedding, hoping he'd come around.

Fannie picked up the bodice and frowned at the uneven gathers in the sleeve. The woman had been gracious to help her sew a wedding dress and likely couldn't stand the substandard work her guest was doing on the simple, but elegant pattern she'd pulled from her box. "We don't have much time to get this right. I need to make sure everyone's lamps and water pitchers are filled first, but I'll come back to help. We're so close."

So close. She'd been so close to having her life settled.

The desire to run coursed through her and came out in the quick tapping of her toes. But she wouldn't disappoint Anthony, no matter how difficult it'd be to celebrate his birthday with his father-to stay in the same town knowing Silas would've held her in his arms if she hadn't left so many others.

Running had never made life easier, not really. She was in this mess because she was good at running.

She stilled her foot, took up her sleeve, and cut out the thread again.

Silas slowed his team as they entered Salt Flatts, directing them toward a small opening near the lone tree shading the church. He maneuvered the wagon through parked carriages, buggies, and the congregants heading inside.

Once stopped, Anthony climbed down the wagon wheel without a shred of enthusiasm.

"Hello, Silas!"

Silas raised a hand in greeting to Will, who stood near the church's side steps with Eliza on his arm.

When Anthony trudged up the stairs, Will tried to put his arm around the boy. Anthony moodily shrugged from his embrace.

Silas had seen many men light into their sons for such disrespect. He'd have to have a serious talk with him tonight. But would talking be enough? Nothing he'd said this morning had helped his son's mood. He'd almost had to carry him to the wagon. For a moment, he'd considered leaving the boy at home, but since he'd run away in Breton without much thought, he might take off here too, and that'd be even more dangerous.

After taking care of his team, Silas joined Will and Eliza, who were waiting for him. He sighed. He'd have to tell them he didn't need them to stick around after services anymore. "Sorry about Anthony's attitude."

Eliza smiled, causing the small pale-pink scar at the corner of her right cheek to bunch. "He's got a lot of adjusting to do."

"So do I." Silas pulled off his hat before they entered church. He scanned the pews and found Anthony up front with Kate. She'd turned in her seat, her eyebrow raised as if to ask if Anthony's decision to sit with her was all right.

He nodded his permission, and followed Will into his pew.

His friend scratched his head. "You're sitting with us?"

"Yes." He moved a hymnal off the seat, thankful for something to mess with. "Miss Dawson and I called things off. No need to stay after services with us today."

Both Will and Eliza paused mid-sit but lowered themselves the rest of the way once Silas thumped down and deposited the hymnal in his lap.

Will glared at him. "Why's that?"

He focused on the reverend's wife starting the music. "She's got a history of running off I didn't know about."

"You've got a history of drinking."

Silas gritted his jaw. He wouldn't deny it, but did Will have to say it so loud? Some in the congregation weren't as forgiving about past mistakes as God was. "I got a boy to consider. I could live through being abandoned again, but I won't put Anthony through it."

Will nodded toward Anthony. "Looks like you're putting him through it by not giving her a chance. Is that why he's upset?"

Silas set his jaw. Anthony had barely talked to him since he'd learned from Kate that they weren't marrying, but he needed to consider what was good for his son in the long run.

A woman who couldn't commit was not a woman he'd pine over, no matter how nice she'd felt in his arms or how much he wished things were different.

Reverend Finch drowned out any further questions with the first verse of "The Solid Rock." Silas stood and sang, and they soon reached the third verse.

His oath, His covenant, His blood, Support me in the whelming flood; When all around my soul gives way, He then is all my hope and stay.

On Christ, the solid rock, I stand; All other ground is sinking sand.

He kept singing, but with less gusto than usual.

All other ground is sinking sand.

He quit and closed his eyes.

Jesus, I need help. Everything is giving way, the storms have hit, and that's a dangerous place for me. I've got Anthony to look after now. Thank you for entrusting me with him, though I'm uncertain I'll be a good father. Please be my hope and stay-I need your stability.

He tried to pay attention to the pastor once they'd all been seated, but his eyes kept wandering three pews up and one across. Just to be certain Anthony was all right, of course.

But he didn't look all right. The boy hadn't uncrossed his arms since Kate had pulled him close. How could he deny his son the love of a mother?

It was all Silas could do to keep from standing up and giving in.

Of course, Kate didn't have to be the mother, but Anthony warming up to another woman would likely take just as long as it was taking him to warm up to a new pa.

Not that there was another woman in town-or one he'd ever met in his life, really-that he admired so much.

Or at least had.