“I do not know what I am to do,” Robert said to McGee, while the men worked on the repair of a wagon outside the livery. “Since receiving the letter telling of Rebecca’s death, Nathaniel has become so distant. He talks little and…” he hesitated, “and he has not invited me back to his bed.” Despite McGee’s acceptance of his relationship with Nathaniel, he was still uncomfortable with openly speaking of it.
McGee continued to work on the resetting of the wheel. After it was securely fixed in place, he turned to the young man.
“Have you talked to him about what’s goin’ on?”
“No. I have thought to give him time.”
“Time ta do what? Decide to high tail it back to Massachusetts?”
Robert looked up, stricken. The unspoken fear that had hung in the air since the letter had come now confronted h
