No, he still admired her. Couldn't lie to himself. He was just appropriately leery now.

At the end of the service, Kate walked toward him, her arm around Anthony.

Silas looked to his left, but Will and Eliza had vanished. He tugged at his tie. He'd promised they'd talk later, but he still wasn't ready. He needed to be certain he was level-headed enough not to change his mind if she flashed him a pretty smile.

She stopped in front of him, her smile more sad than pretty. "Anthony said we're meeting for ice cream on Wednesday?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Her eyebrows raised at his formality, and then her eyes turned wounded.

He crushed his hat in his hand. Wounded eyes were a whole lot worse than a pretty smile. He pressed his lips together to keep from babbling nonsense in case he said something to give her hope he didn't feel at the moment.

Why wasn't anyone coming to talk to them? The church had emptied faster than usual. Or had they been standing staring at each other for longer than he realized?

"Go on outside, Anthony." Kate pushed his son forward. "I'll be out to run in a minute."

He forced himself to stop crushing his hat and clamped it against his leg.

"Fannie asked me if I was still going to be at the boardinghouse next week."

Well, of course she was. He'd called things off. He nodded.

"I don't have money, Silas."

He closed his eyes and swallowed his groan. He didn't have money either, at least not if he wanted funds to buy a wagon and tools come spring. "All right, I'll pay for next week."

"And to compensate, I'll come to your place and help you with the garden or whatever else I can do." She blinked her large, earnest eyes at him.

No. That wouldn't do at all. He stuck a finger into his collar and tugged. He was already far too attached to her, and the last time she'd come, he'd found her too easy to kiss. "I don't think that'd be good for Anthony."

Her gaze fell. "Won't you even think about . . . us?"

What did she mean? That's all he was thinking about. "I can't promise anything, but we can talk later." After he had himself put back together and knew whether he should pursue her or not.

If he distanced himself for a while, wouldn't he know whether or not he could or should live without her? "But the reason you can't work for me is you'll need to find a job since I don't have enough money to pay for your boarding indefinitely."

Her hands slid up to her hips. "Where do you propose I look for work?"

At least he was stoking the fire back up in her. This Kate was easier to deal with than the one looking at him as if she were lost. "The school?"

"I don't have a proper license."

Right. "You could ask Will's wife, Eliza. If any woman can help you find a job, it'd be her. She's a bona fide businesswoman."

"And if I still can't find one?"

He ran a hand through his hair. Could he promise her anything? "I don't know."

"I love Anthony, Silas. I've got nothing to go back to. I'm not leaving."

"What about after Anthony grows up and heads out on his own?" He swallowed hard. Hadn't she asked him about that when he'd proposed?

Her body went soft again. "Depends on where I am."

The front doors of the church creaked open, and Anthony poked his head in. "Are you coming?"

"Yes," Kate called. She turned back to look at him. "I'm going to run with Anthony now. But I'm not running any farther than the churchyard."

He exhaled the moment she left the room, and he glanced up to where the stained-glass window of Christ praying in the garden bathed the front of the church in red and amber.

I know I'm not in a tougher spot than you were, but I wish I knew as clearly as you did what I'm to do. I want to believe her. . . .

He turned to look out the window and saw her holding her arm out in front of Anthony as if he'd try to get a lead on her before they both shot off together and out of sight.

I really want to believe her.

On Wednesday afternoon, with her arm around Anthony's shoulder, Kate followed Silas inside a shop that smelled of spun sugar. What could she talk about that wouldn't upset Anthony? Eating ice cream in silence was no way to celebrate a birthday.

"It smells heavenly in here. Seems a shame you only get to have one bowl of ice cream." She snapped her fingers and squeezed his shoulder. "You know what? I hadn't the time to get you a gift or paint you a birthday card, so why don't you choose a handful of something to take home."

Anthony smiled, but not as brightly as usual.

Silas cleared his throat. "Are you sure you should be spending money on-"

"A dime or two won't break the bank." Not that she had a bank to break. She owned a very small coin purse with a lot of air in it.

Silas nudged him. "What do you tell Miss Dawson?"

"Thank you, Miss Dawson."

She smiled and squeezed him again.

At the counter, an old man in a pink-and-white-striped apron held up a big flat spoon. "Strawberry or vanilla?"

"How'd you know we were coming in for ice cream?" Anthony gaped.

"I can just tell." The confectioner winked at him.

They all chose strawberry and made their way to a corner booth. Silas had been nothing but polite since picking her up from the boardinghouse, but he'd yet to really meet her eyes.

Anthony's eyes were downcast as well, but he hummed after his first spoonful of the frozen treat. She smiled at the melting cream on his upper lip, then frowned at the way his shoulders sagged.

Silas couldn't really believe she'd leave Anthony. Surely he was worried about himself-which only led her to believe she had a chance with him if she was careful.

She took a bite and let the cold sweetness coat her tongue. Anthony would recover from his disappointment over her broken engagement to his father, and if she saw him occasionally, she could endure most any job. Tying herself down to take care of this boy had never been in question, and he needed her now just as much as before. "So are you going to race me again next Sunday?"

Anthony looked up, but only nodded since his mouth was full of cream.

"You better practice. I don't intend to let you win again." She glanced at Silas, who'd finally looked at her, his face devoid of any telling emotion.

Last night she'd prayed for help with her attitude. Though hurt, she still wanted to be here with them. If she could keep from acting anything like Lucinda, perhaps Silas would rethink putting her aside.

Had he not felt for her what she had for him? Maybe he'd kissed her like that back in Breton to entice her to Kansas to be his son's caretaker, and now that he'd deemed her unreliable, his interest had disappeared.

She regretted her running ways, but if she hadn't jilted the other two men or left her family, she wouldn't have known either Anthony or Silas.

Lord, I don't regret refusing to marry Jasper, but I do regret leaving Aiden without a word. I'd viewed him as nothing more than a way out from under my brother-in-law's thumb, and then when I deemed him imperfect . . .

Just like Silas now deemed her imperfect.

She needed to send a letter and apologize to Aiden. It wouldn't help her current situation, but it was the right thing to do.

"We can't be long, Anthony." Silas looked back at his ice cream, took another bite, and stared out the window. "We gotta get home before dark."

They were in no danger of having difficulty doing that. She huffed and took another bite of her dessert.

Silas's gaze weighed heavy on her, but the moment she turned to look back at him, he looked away.

The time to give up on him definitely wasn't now.

Chapter 19.

Kate squeezed Anthony's hand at the edge of the first farm road outside of Salt Flatts. On the horizon, three columns of smoke pillowed toward the clouds. Likely none of them Silas's chimney fire-his was probably too far away to see. "How long does it take you to walk home?"

"I have to leave forty-five minutes before class to make sure I have time to get a drink and warm up. If I'm not in my seat exactly at nine, my teacher marks me tardy, even if I'm just taking off my coat."

She ruffled his hair. "She'll help you mind your p's and q's, then. Maybe she'll be the one to help you figure out math."

"I hate math."

"I know." She tucked a wisp of a curl behind his ear. He desperately needed a haircut, but who was she to mention it? "Go on home. I'll see you another day."

"Tomorrow?"

"I'll be looking for work again tomorrow. If I'm near the school, I'll walk with you again. But maybe, if you get your pa's permission, we can paint this coming Saturday morning." The streams around Salt Flatts were more mud than anything, so he'd actually have to try his hand at painting since murky brown water wasn't as fun to poke around in as crystal-clear creeks.

He shrugged. "Why won't they let you teach? I can tell them what a good teacher you are."

"They don't need me." Though they did need another teacher-the first-year class was enormous-but the moment she'd mentioned she had no certificate, Mr. Scottsmore's smile had faded. She'd figured the school board member who was also a lawyer would be the toughest man to convince, and so she'd started with him. And she was right. He'd dismissed her quickly.

She gave Anthony a gentle shove, and he sighed and walked away. At about fifty yards, he turned to wave and she waved back before returning to town. Thankfully Silas hadn't forbid the boy from visiting with her, but after the night he'd treated them to ice cream, she'd not seen him again.

If only she could make herself walk to his place without invitation. She understood his hurt. Hadn't she run from people when they'd disappointed her? But instead of running, Silas shut himself off. Was that how he always dealt with problems?

She kicked a rock that had the audacity to be in her way. What to do?

Salt Flatts sprawled out in front of her, but the hope of finding a job in this town had dwindled after another week of looking. She'd tried to find work but instead received two offers of marriage. One from the livery owner, the other from an old man spitting tobacco outside Lowry's Feed Store-and he didn't mean for his son. A shiver ran across her shoulders.

She'd also had a less than proper solicitation to work for Mrs. Rosemary Star, who evidently ran a new brothel on the south side of town. Kate hugged herself as she turned onto Maple. Perhaps hasty marriages of convenience weren't the worst option in the world.

She made her way to the boardinghouse, a three-story building on the edge of town. Tall yellow prairie grasses waved their way up to the building's eastern garden full of spent rosebushes. The fancy boardinghouse had a wrap-around deck swathed in a variety of soft green colors, its many gables and dormers painted maroon. At each corner, rain gutters ended inside a goldfish statue, its mouth wide open to spew water away from the foundation.

If only she'd be so lucky to work here for room and board. But Fannie already had cleaning girls, and the job wouldn't merit board in such a fancy place anyway. Was there somewhere in Salt Flatts as dilapidated as Mrs. Grindall's back in Breton? Maybe she could afford to board in a place like that.

Kate forced her feet up the stairs and into the boardinghouse. Thankfully Fannie was nicer than Mrs. Grindall and hadn't kicked her out yet, despite Silas paying late for the upcoming week. She knew he couldn't afford it-and making him pay for her when he was so worried about his homestead likely wasn't making him any fonder of her-but what was she supposed to do?

In the parlor, she pushed the center table to the wall, making room for the large quilting frame the women worked around every Monday. Kate lowered herself onto an embroidered cushioned chair and stared at the quilt. She hadn't come down to sew last Monday because she couldn't face the women. They would've asked her about the wedding since they'd helped hem her wedding dress the previous Monday.

But she couldn't stay holed away forever.

The front door opened, and Kate busied herself with the thread spools.

Rachel Stanton, the mother of Silas's doctor friend, came through the parlor doorway and gave Kate a great big smile. "How are you Mrs. Jon-"

"Miss Dawson." She shrugged with embarrassment. "Still Miss Dawson."

"Oh dear." The older woman came over and wrapped her arms around Kate as if they'd known each other their whole life.

Tears welled in Kate's eyes as the feeling of Rachel's body registered soft and warm against her. She'd hugged Anthony many times, and Aiden had held her occasionally, but the last comforting embrace she remembered was her mother's the morning before she'd died.

She gave Rachel a gentle squeeze and stepped back, refusing to swipe at the tears on her face lest she draw attention to them. She turned to occupy herself with the spools again.

"What happened, love?"

Kate located a needle that needed threading and dug out scissors. "My past happened."

"Now, who doesn't have a past?" Rachel looked fierce with her hands planted on her ample hips.

"My past happens to make me the kind of woman Silas wants to avoid. But my real problem is finding a position in town so I can stay near Anthony." She folded her hands in front of her. "I have to support myself somehow."

The front door opened again, and Nancy Wells came into the parlor, followed by her daughter Millicent. The lady's red hair was wild and poufy in contrast to her stepdaughter's limp brunette braids. Millicent's gaunt cheeks and sallow skin indicated an ailing young lady.

"Life could be worse." At least the only sickly thing about Kate was her broken heart. She tried a smile. "I'll figure out something."

Rachel patted her shoulder, and Kate could almost see a speech composing itself behind the older woman's kind brown eyes, but with Nancy and Millicent finding their seats, Rachel must have decided to keep her words to herself.

Nancy pulled a container from her needlework basket. "I made blackberry crumb bars. Had to make Mother's group some too or they'd have followed me here." She winked and set the cookies on the end table by the sofa. Fannie had mentioned another quilting group met in town, but it was more an excuse for Nancy's mother, Mrs. Graves, to gather women for gossip.

Had Mrs. Studdard informed them all about how quickly she and Silas had gone from flirtatious glances to cold shoulders?