Nathan Grant rode up to Elizabeth Thornton's row house that afternoon with some trepidation. But if he felt a bit nervous at the prospect he also felt it was no less than he was obliged to do. He felt he owed her some thanks, for all she'd done for Allie, and indirectly him. And it was time he acknowledged his thanks with words.
"Good afternoon, Elizabeth," he began, as he came abreast of her small home. Elizabeth was seated on the top step of her front stoop, shelling a bowl of peas, dropping the peas into her lap and the shells into the bowl beside her. Behind her, her son Little Jack sat upright playing with a pile of blocks and babbling to himself.
"Good afternoon, Nathan," Elizabeth looked up but continued with her task. It was hot in the house and she'd come out to the porch where it was a little cooler.
Nathan watched her a minute, forming his words, thinking how lovely she looked there, in her tidy apron, her hair loose about her shoulders, small tendrils picked up and floated around by the gentle breeze, her cheeks flushed from the fresh air. The scene was homey and quaint and something panged longingly in Nathan's heart at thesight.
Elizabeth bit her lip, suppressing a smile. She'd seen immediately that he'd come to tell her something. That something was on his mind. She'd read it on his face, and she saw now he was struggling for the words.
"Do you want something, Nathan?" she asked, thinking the prompt might help him.
"Yes, um, I just wanted to thank you," Nathan said.
"Thank me?" Elizabeth queried.
"You know, for helping Allie. For helping her...the other night," he trailed off, evasively.
"The other night?"
"Yeah," Nathan acknowledged, reaching into a small bag hooked around his saddlehorn and drawing out small swatches of fabric, holding them up to show her. "For helping Allie...with her dress," he finally said, having pieced together what had really happened that night once he'd found the remnants of the discarded frills and bows.
"Ohhh," Elizabeth drew out the word, understanding that he now understood their impromptu makeover of the dress he'd bought his niece. "I guess we shouldn't have left the evidence behind," she said lightly, apologetically.
"No, I'm glad of it," Nathan said, eyeing her directly. "Glad to know your kindness, and Mrs. Coulter's," he explained. "Glad to have the chance to thank you properly," he added. At Elizabeth's slight nod, Nathan continued conversationally, "I hear Mrs. Coulter and her husband have a new addition to their household."
Elizabeth smiled. "That they do," she confirmed.
Nathan nodded. "They seem like good people," he observed.
"Yes, they are," Elizabeth replied with another smile.
"Please pass along my congra-" Nathan suddenly stopped and flew off his horse in one quick leap followed by several fast long strides, startling Elizabeth as he bolted to the side of the porch.
"There, there, little man," Nathan cooed as he caught the errant child just as he was about to topple off the edge of the porch.
"Jack!" Elizabeth exclaimed, rushing to the side of the porch, the peas in her lap forgotten in her haste and flying all around as she raced to her child, taking him from Nathan's arms and holding him tight. She'd placed him in the centre of the porch to play, not realizing his crawling skills were enough to take him to the porch's edge. It was a good two feet to the ground, and Elizabeth let out her breath in relief, sighing in realization of the close escape from such a fall.
"Nathan, thank you," Elizabeth blinked up at him, the day's thank you's suddenly reversed.
Nathan nodded, then eyed the porch around them. "You know, you ought to have a railing put on here, just to be safe," he added.
"Yeah, I'll get right on that," Elizabeth answered dryly, like she didn't have enough to do teaching full time, volunteering at the library, being a single mother, not to mention all the regular repairs on her home, nevermind improvements to it.
"Well, I guess I'd better be going," Nathan observed, touching his hat, then moving to his horse to mount up. He turned and rode away, while Elizabeth watched and held her son tight in her arms, her cheek pressed to the child's as she rocked them both side to side.
It was a few days later that Elizabeth walked wearily home from school, down the long row of rowhouses, all identically built and outfitted. Identical that is, until she came to her own, as she stopped to gape in surprise at the sight before her. For her home now stood apart, different from the others. Encircling her porch, painted a colour to match, Elizabeth saw it studied it. What made her house different.
A fresh new railing.