A Bride for Keeps (27 page)

Was I wrong to believe you’d bless me beyond what I deserve?

He’d asked too much of God. She’d been hurt too deeply, and he was not desirable enough
to overcome the panic one man’s touch had created within her.

She’d never love him.

Over at the house, Everett was feeding bits of leftover meat to Sticky and Merlin,
but Julia stayed on the blanket outside. Her fingers found her lips. They felt different,
from the inside out. His kiss hadn’t scared her, but the sensations hadn’t stayed
where they should have. Drawn to the feel, her lips had responded, and then her body
had reacted. She had wanted to kiss him longer to make that feeling last. But a buzz
inside her heart set off an alarm.

Slouching forward, she hung her head. Feeling such things in the arms of her husband
was good, right? Or was her sensuous reaction wrong? What kind of girl felt such things?
She dug her hands into her hair. Everett had held her in his arms, not Theodore.

Would that man’s cruel grasp never let go?

She bit her lip and gazed in the direction of the Stanton cabin. If only Rachel, with
her no-nonsense advice, could tell her what to do. But Rachel had never experienced
anything but love in a man’s embrace.

Glancing at her feet, she saw that the Bible Everett had left lay fluttering in the
breeze.
God
. Her lips pursed in amusement. Simple, really.

I . . .

Hmmm. Did she have to start formally like the preacher did? She hadn’t earlier, and
Everett rarely did.

I need help.

That about covered it. Sucking in air, her chest expanded, confident God would answer
her prayer. Rachel, Everett, and every pastor she’d heard believed prayer received
answers. Now that God had saved her, surely He would answer a simple request.

She placed her bare feet in the grass, swishing her toes through the cool blades.
Her lips still tingled, reminding her of his kiss and the heat that had flowed through
her body. She pulled a few dandelion heads and ripped away their minuscule petals
one by one, painting her fingers yellow. Why had she pulled away from him? It wasn’t
like he hadn’t kissed her before. Although, thankfully, this time she was firmly seated
on the ground.

The feel of Theodore’s first kiss pushed its way up through her memory. She hadn’t
pulled away from that one even an inch. Her stomach soured. Why must memories of that
odious man surface when she thought of Everett? Beyond looks, the men were so different.
She shouldn’t keep comparing the two—because Everett actually loved her.

He walked from the front of the house to the well. She could just make out his form
in the dim light. His shoulders slumped. Her reaction must have hurt him terribly.

She replayed the kiss again—the pull of his scent, the trembling of their bodies,
the wash of warmth that spread to her outer limbs. Not the unpleasant feelings like
those that overwhelmed her when she revisited Theodore’s kiss.

Her husband’s kisses were warm, gentle, tender—and yearning. So why hadn’t she given
in when she’d wanted to?

The moon in the dark blue sky shone bright, low and large in the heavens. The expanse
lit with twinkling white. Head tilted, she took in the awe-inspiring sight of planets
and stars. What had kept her from trusting the obvious Creator behind such a lovely
world? What kept her from accepting the love Everett offered now?

Knowing that I shouldn’t have what I don’t deserve.

She stared at the stars, shimmering and blurred by tears. And yet, God and Everett
offered themselves to her anyway.

Thank you, Lord. Please help me get over my fears so I can show the man I don’t deserve
how happy I am that he chose me in spite of what I asked of him.

Panic had kept her from something she had wanted before Theodore killed her dreams:
to be cherished by a man and adored by her own children—or to be held in her husband’s
gentle arms if the dream of little ones was never realized.

With God’s help, she’d chase that dream again.

“Can I help you?” Emerging from the mercantile’s back room, Kathleen gave a tired
smile. “Oh, hello, Julia. What brings you in?”

Julia fingered the lace in her hand. None of the spools matched the lace tucked away
in Adelaide’s dusty trunk. Should she buy enough to redo her new nightgown’s trimming,
or just make do with a hodgepodge? Would Everett even notice? She sighed. “I’m just
trying to figure out how much lace I need to buy. But I’d love to see the baby again.”

Kathleen smiled and swept past the counter. “Carl’s changing him, but I’m sure he’ll
come out with him soon. Can I gather supplies for you while you’re deciding?”

“No. I came in just for this.”

Kathleen cocked her head. “You drove into town for lace? Everett was here for supplies
three days ago.” She pulled down a few dusty spools from a high shelf. “What are you
working on?”

Julia’s cheeks heated. “Um . . . just a . . .”

“Another new dress?” Kathleen frowned.

She shook her head. Goodness knows she had more dresses than any woman in the county.
“I’m working on . . . uh, my . . . nigh—nice mittens.” She bit her lip, trying to
maintain a serious face. How would she explain that?

“Mittens?” Kathleen’s brows jiggled. “With lace?”

Julia closed her eyes and sighed. Looks like she’d be making mittens so her foolish
brain wouldn’t turn her into a liar. Why couldn’t she have said
nightgown
? It’s not like that was an unusual garment. Only she knew why she was making it fancy.
“Well, I was thinking that I could make some uh . . . thick quilted mittens for baking.”

“Are your towels or aprons not working well enough?”

“I just thought it might be nice. Who knows? Maybe people will find them . . . interesting,
especially if they’re pretty.”

“Hmm. If you have a hankering to, make some extras, and I’ll put them on display at
the front counter.”

“Sure.” Julia nodded and scratched her head. No one would buy such a thing, but at
least Kathleen seemed to have accepted the crazy idea.

“Everett drove you into town for mitten lace? Are you sure he doesn’t need anything?”

“He didn’t come with me.” Hopefully he wouldn’t return from the fields before she
got home and discover she’d left.

“But he’s outside with your team.”

Julia fumbled the lace. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. He didn’t—”

The mercantile’s bell jingled, and Kathleen touched her arm before stepping around
the overflowing shelf of sewing notions.

“Good afternoon, Everett.”

Julia bit her lip and wished she could disappear. He’d be sore at her for leaving
since she’d promised not to go anywhere without telling him first. But she hadn’t
the gumption to tell him why she wanted trimming now instead of waiting for his next
trip. Had he galloped after her all the way into town like last time?

“Is Julia in here?” His voice sounded a bit raspy.

Her stomach sank lower. Could she do nothing right where he was concerned?

“Yes, right around here.”

Julia slid out from behind the shelf, wadded up the lace she’d been fingering, and
thrust it toward Kathleen. “I’ll take five yards of this.”

“Five? That’s a lot of mittens.”

Julia suppressed a laugh, but felt the pink in her cheeks. Mittens indeed. “I might
need it for other projects as well.” She glided over to Everett and shakily took his
clammy hand.

He squeezed hard. “I’m sorry I’ve disturbed your shopping.”

“No, of course not.” But why was he here? Had he not enough faith in her to believe
she’d not really leave him without some kind of warning?

Carl stepped out of the back, his infant son tucked against his side. “Are you all
right up here, Kathleen?”

“Yes, unless you want to take care of Mr. Cline.”

He shrugged. “Not if you don’t need me to.”

Everett’s surprised gaze shot over to Carl, then back to Kathleen.

Carl walked around the counter and leaned against the pickle barrel. He lifted his
eyebrow, looking in Everett’s direction. “You’ve met Junior, right?” The baby’s bright
eyes blinked against the sun streaming through the front windows. Julia itched to
shield the boy’s eyes, but he looked happy enough.

“No, I believe he’s been napping each time I’ve come around.”

“Well, take a look.” He hefted the baby up and cradled him against his chest. “He’s
already got bottom teeth.” The baby gnawed on Carl’s probing finger. “See, two little
nubbins. He’s got my cleft here, the prominent brow bone, the lips. No mistaking him
for anybody else’s son, huh?”

Julia’s heart grew warm at the man’s obvious pride. The boy surely did look a lot
like his father—along with the sparse hair, overbite, and mottled skin.

Carl pulled Kathleen over with his free arm and bussed the top of her head. “She couldn’t
have birthed me a finer son.”

Everett reached over and took the baby’s chubby fist and shook it. “Pleased to meet
you, Junior.”

Junior got a serious look on his face and turned red. Julia tried not to giggle at
the baby’s extreme look of concentration.

“Ah, excuse us.” Carl lifted the baby into the air above his head and brought him
down to touch noses. “Come on, stinky britches. Let’s change you again.”

Kathleen smiled at the two of them disappearing into the back. Then she turned to
Everett. “He’s so enamored with him—especially the fact that he’s his spitting image.”

“No longer worried about me, then?”

Kathleen brightened, and her lips twitched. “Nope. Finally. The dense man.”

“Good.” Everett nodded, then sneaked a glance back at Julia before tugging his hand
free and toying with the pipes arranged next to the tobacco on the front counter.

Julia laid a hand on his bicep. “Was there something you needed? I’m sorry I didn’t
ask, and I’m sorry I worried you.”

“Excuse me, but I need to check on this price.” Kathleen swiped up the bundle of lace
on which she’d already pinned a receipt and escaped in the direction of coos and manly
chuckles.

Julia clasped his sleeve and lowered her voice. “I should have told you where I was
going.”

“Oh, I wasn’t worried about that.” He sneaked a glance back out the window.

“Then you came in for something? A pipe?” She let her fingers slide down along his
thick forearm.

He tried to set the dark wooden pipe back in its place, but it clattered back onto
the counter. “No, never smoked in my life.” After three attempts, the pipe stayed
upright. He pulled at his collar. “It’s just that I saw Ned’s team pass after you
left. . . .”

The store door banged open, and an irritated humph sounded behind them. The hair on
her neck bristled.

She whirled around and met Ned’s black gaze. Everett stepped closer to her side and
placed his hand on her shoulder. She couldn’t help the shiver that trembled through
her whole body. Everett squeezed her for reassurance, but still she fought the urge
to duck behind him. They hadn’t seen Ned since Everett threw him off the property.
Surely he wouldn’t start trouble in town. Would he flaunt Everett’s demands, believing
he wouldn’t fight him in public?

Ned stared at them both for a few seconds, his expression full of hatred now instead
of lust. He made a sucking noise,
then aimed a brown slurry of spit at the brass pot near the door’s frame. He spit
again before turning. The door slammed hard behind him, bouncing twice before settling
in a closed position.

“Wonder what he wanted?”

Julia jumped at Kathleen’s annoyed voice.

“Nothing he can have.” Everett’s grip on her shoulder slacked, and he gently pushed
her back toward the lace counter. “Pick out whatever else you need. I’ll be escorting
you home.”

She rubbed her arms, attempting to dispel the prickly feeling under her sleeve. She
hadn’t thought about the possibility of meeting up with Ned alone when she’d ridden
in. If Everett hadn’t seen him pass the homestead . . .

She looked over at his stony face. He’d put distance between them, pretending to be
fascinated with an oil lamp this time. His behavior had definitely backslidden to
that of their first month of married life since their last kiss. Acted as if he didn’t
care how she spent her day, left in the mornings with hardly a word, skipped meals,
and left her to her own devices. The only thing different was he continued to read
Scripture after supper.

But she needed him. And he needed her.

She looked at the jumbled piles of bobbin and needle lace. “Kathleen’s already prepared
what I needed.”

“All right.” He nodded and strode toward the front door. “I’ll ready the team.”

She took a deliberate breath and felt the uneven patter of her heart. Maybe this venture
had turned out better than she’d hoped, even with the run-in with Ned. An hour and
a half alone with her husband beside her. A few days ago, he’d gone to town at the
last minute and hadn’t taken her, claiming he
didn’t want to interrupt her plans. But she knew he’d done so to avoid conversation—and
sitting next to her that long.

And so she would sit next to him now, close. Real close.

“I’m ready to go, Kathleen.” She grabbed an armful of apples to make Everett a cake.
“And I was wondering if you and Carl might want to come out to the homestead and have
dinner sometime. I know it’s quite a way to drive, but I’d love to spend some time
talking to you about things other than flour and sugar.”