A Bride for Keeps (28 page)

“I’d love to, but let me talk to Carl. It’d have to be late, considering he doesn’t
like to close the shop early.”

“Maybe a Sunday?”

Kathleen smiled. “That would be better. How about two Sundays from now, after church?”

“Sounds good. I can’t wait to have you over.” She gathered her things and left the
store, but her smile died. Everett was sitting atop Blaze behind the wagon. He tipped
his hat to her, and she hoisted herself up onto the wooden seat and yanked up her
reins. He couldn’t sequester himself from her forever. A distant husband wouldn’t
make a good dinner guest two weeks from now.

His impatient pace on the way home required her focus to remain on Dimple and Curly
so she wouldn’t fall behind.

Well, she too was growing impatient. But she’d fix that.

The next night after dinner, Everett couldn’t help but notice Julia kept looking out
of the corner of her eye at him when she thought he wasn’t looking. And he shouldn’t
be looking. She had put on a lacy nightgown she’d fitted to her tiny frame.

The sweltering summer temperatures had crept into September, so he stripped to his
drawers and undershirt. He
brought the quilt up to his chest despite the heat, poked his feet out as he stretched
on the far side of the mattress, and finally curled up facing the wall.

She hummed to herself as she brushed her hair. He flung his arm across his ear.

The bed bowed with her weight, but she didn’t lie down.

“Do you mind if I pray at bedtime? Since you pray at dinner, I thought maybe I ought
to take on an evening prayer.”

Her question made him feel ridiculous, lying balled up like a defiant child. Here
he was hardening his heart, and she was growing in God. He rolled onto his back and
clasped his hands on his chest. The trembling in his fingers betrayed his desire for
her, making it tough to talk with her in bed, but he couldn’t return to his taciturn
ways without destroying all hope for a good relationship. He longed for a godly wife.
How could he expect her to mature in her faith if he demonstrated the opposite? “Sure.”

Bowing her head, she remained silent. After a few moments, her breathy voice beseeched
God. “Lord, help us to know how to live together. Thank you for saving me and providing
me with a good home. Give us rest to accomplish the goals we have in the morning.
Amen.”

“Amen.”

The lamplight succumbed to Julia’s breath. Her shadowy outline appeared, barely discernible
in the dark room. He sighed. He should be demonstrating God’s love to her, but engaging
her in lighthearted conversation hurt too much. His physical desire for her wasn’t
yet locked up tight. He needed more time to get under control.

The blanket jerked around as she searched in the dark for the top of the quilt. She
would twist it into knots like usual, so he reached over to flip the covers down.
The weight of
her backside fell upon his hand, his pinkie finger crooked at an odd angle. “Ow!”
He clamped his hand to his chest. “That smarts.”

Her minty breath wafted inches from his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know your hand
was there.”

“Obviously.” He stretched his fingers.

Her hand caught his and pulled it to her. “Let me kiss it. Where did I hurt you?”

“Nowhere.” He tried to tug his hand away, but she kept a tight grasp.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll just have to find the spot myself.”

He sat up. “No thank you.”

“I’m sorry, I just thought—”

“Kissing hurts away might have worked when I was a kid, but it’s useless now.” Her
hand found his knee, and he swiped it off. He couldn’t let her lips touch his skin,
even for a childish kiss. He didn’t trust himself right now. She was too close, too
enticing. He pushed out of bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Leaving.” He stomped his right heel down into his boot.

“I’m sorry, Everett. Please. I won’t offer any more kisses.”

“Good.” He wrenched his left foot into the other boot.

“Stay, Everett.”

Shaking his head, he walked out and down the steps.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice warbled from the porch. “Must you run? Please, let’s talk.”

She stood at the porch railing, her white gown glowing in the moonlight. He growled
to the maker of the stars above him, “This isn’t working!” He spun on his heel and
raced to the barn. A nudge in his heart told him he was making this train wreck of
a relationship worse.

Go back. Go listen.

He swiped the prodding aside and stomped toward a dark stall full of hay.

———

Her heart thumped in her throat. Agitated and downright angry he was. For nothing.
Simply nothing. She took a step down the stairs, intent on finding him and chastising
him for his childish behavior.

Merlin stepped in front of her at the bottom of the step and whined. Boy did she feel
like whining herself.

God, I don’t understand. I wouldn’t act like this.

The thought of how she’d pushed him away at every single advance and the look in his
eye as he told her of the four women before her who’d rejected him rushed from the
confines of her memory.

Her heart slowed and her fists unclenched. She crossed her arms and glared at the
barn. They needed to talk. She needed to tell him.

The barn door stood open, and the full moon made the outline of stalls and sleeping
animals visible. As she stepped inside the barn, the cicada humming receded, and the
sound of sputtering and mumbling filled her ears.

Taking a step back, she clenched her hand against her stomach. Walking in on a man
weeping was certainly wrong, but her name being sputtered between moans drew her forward.
Her feet crunched on the hay-littered floor as she followed the sounds to the last
stall. The window across the way let in enough light for her to see Everett on his
knees, hands clasping a wad of hay.

“What you ask me to do is too difficult, Lord. I can’t do it. It’s absurd.” His ragged
breath sounded from the stall. “I was wrong to bring her here. But what would you
have me do? I want to get away . . . but my vows hold me, and my
heart enslaves me. But your expectations . . . your expectations are too much.”

Her heart drooped like a withered plant after drought and neglect. Had she read him
wrong? She covered her mouth with a trembling hand and slid to her knees while he
stammered incoherent sentences. If he left her, she’d never get over the hurt. And
to know he loved her once would make the pain so much more acute.

She was too late.

Blinking hard to get her tears under control, she readied to push herself off the
ground.

“But I can’t, Father. I can’t leave her.” His erratic breathing evened. “Help me rid
myself of these feelings. I love her, I do, it’s just too hard.” He slumped against
the stall’s side. “Sleeping next to her is killing me.” He hiccuped.

Her heart sang. What did he say?

“I can’t be her companion. I can’t be what she’s forcing me to be. She won’t have
me, yet she tortures me. Make my agony stop, Lord! Rip out these feelings so I can
be the friend she wants me to be. Every day that I wake up beside her, I want her
more.”

A loud, shuddering breath escaped her lips.

His silhouette tensed.

Her skin prickled, and her heart felt light. She crawled toward him.

He began to rise, but she reached for his shoulders, keeping him on his knees in front
of her.

Coughs and swallows preceded his whisper. “I’m sorry. You weren’t supposed to hear
that. Don’t fear I’ll pressure you. I won’t. I’ve promised.”

She scooted next to him. “I’m not sorry I overheard. It’s time we ended this sham
of a marriage.”

He rocked back on his heels and stood as quick as lightning. She scrambled to stand,
grabbing the hand clenched over his chest. He hung his head. “I suppose it is.”

She clasped his tense arm with both of her hands. “What you were praying for just
then would require a miracle.” She peered up at him, but his face turned toward the
window, his neck taut. “I don’t want to see God do such a mighty work.”

With her finger, she drew lazy lines on his tensed arm. The muscles flexed under her
touch. “It’s wrong for you to be sleeping next to me a foot or two away. That ought
to stop. Every night, since you kissed me last, I struggle to fall asleep, wondering
what another one of those kisses would feel like if you rolled over and took me into
your arms.”

He stiffened more, and she let her hand travel up his chest, the muscle solid and
reassuring. He clamped her arm against his racing heart, staying her movements. “Don’t
toy with me, Julia.”

“Why didn’t you want me to kiss you a few minutes ago?”

He sucked in a breath. “Because I feared I’d kiss you back, and I can’t watch you
turn away from me in disgust again.”

“That’s all I’ve done, isn’t it?” Her posture slumped.

“And I shouldn’t kiss a woman who doesn’t love me.”

He deserved better than her; she now realized what a gift God had given her. “I shouldn’t
have married you—”

He released her and stepped away.

She grabbed a fistful of his shirt. “Wait. I only mean I shouldn’t have married you
when I did.” Reaching up, she straightened his collar. “I let my fear of men cloud
my discernment, but I love you for respecting my impossible expectations and for loving
me despite how I’ve treated you.”

“What are you saying?” He bent his head, his eyes roving
back and forth as if he could read her thoughts by taking in every inch of her face.

How could she have ever toyed with this man? And how had she ever doubted what her
attachment to him really was? “Yes, Everett, I love you. Very much.”

Cupping her face, his thumbs trembled as he smoothed the skin at her jawline. “I’m
not sure I can keep from kissing you right now.” He swallowed hard. “May I?”

Her heart hammered in her throat as she nodded. “I promise not to pull away.”

One roughened hand whispered across her neck, and the fingers of his other combed
themselves into her hair. “Good,” he whispered. The moonlight from the window illumined
the flash of fire behind his eyes. His kiss was slow and tender as he tucked her in
close. She closed her eyes, awash in the comfort and love of the man who adored her.
A few seconds later, he pulled back, shivering.

At least she thought he was, since her body shook of its own volition.

“Just wanted to see if I could be the first to break a kiss for once.” His voice was
husky.

His boyish smirk made her smile. “I now see why you didn’t like it.”

“Beloved, are you certain you love me?” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear,
his eyes softer than the moonlight. “I don’t want you to ever think I want you tucked
into my side for anything baser than the fact that you are my other half. The only
woman I dream of, the one I need beside me. The girl I’ll spend the rest of my life
getting to know so well, no one will believe our marriage started off so rough.”

“Yes, I’m certain.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her head against
his chest. The warmth of tears
flooded her eyes. “And I know you’ll love me no matter what because you loved me before
I was any good to you.”

She didn’t deserve him at all. “What can I do to erase these last miserable months
from your memory?”

A low chuckle vibrated against her cheek. “They weren’t that miserable.”

She leaned back to look at him. “Yes they were. You just told God as much.”

“All right, more than miserable.” He smiled as he swept a tear from the corner of
her eye. “But you just told me you loved me, and those words have already wiped away
the hardship. I would have gone through anything to have you say that to me.”

“Then let’s add some more good memories to today, shall we?”

“What do you have in mind, love?”

She stood on tiptoe to meet his smiling lips, starting a kiss she refused to be the
first one to break. Time and the need to breathe disappeared in the security of his
embrace.

Why had she ever pulled away?

T
HREE
YEARS
LATER

Julia sucked in a mighty breath before it was too late. Rachel leaned over and clasped
her uncontrollably quivering knees. “Almost there.”

Growling, she pushed.

“One more.”

Through gritted teeth, she spit word daggers at her friend. “You told me that a hundred
pushes—”

“Save your breath, girl.”

Her vision turned black, and then a thousand stars obliterated the darkness. She gulped
for air.

“There. I told you. Do it again.”

With one last shove, the pressure slipped away and the pain dissolved. She didn’t
have to ask if the baby was alive. A cry pierced the air, and her legs fell limp to
the ticking. A sigh escaped, and she lay back onto the pillows, exhausted.

She’d lost two little ones early on, but this one was here, actually here. Anticipating
the anguish of losing children hadn’t truly prepared her for it. New empathy had allowed
her to forgive her mother for how she’d been treated as a child.
But she was determined not to let her lost children affect her treatment of the one
crying in Rachel’s arms.

Rachel’s beaming face swam before her. “A boy. A big, loud boy.” She wiped the damp
hair from her forehead and smiled. “And you told me you wouldn’t be having any children.”

The bedroom door flew open, and Everett’s tall form filled the doorway. His eyes locked
onto hers.

Rachel moved away to the corner, hushing and cooing to the swaddled baby in her arms.

Everett knelt beside her and grabbed her hand. “How are you?”

She sighed. “We have a son.”

“I can hear.” The baby’s wails nearly drowned out his words, but she still heard the
pleasure behind them.

“You should be happy.” She mustered up a smile. “A strong boy to help with the workload.”

“So that’s why you wanted this baby so bad.” His face sported a lopsided grin. “Needed
someone to take over chores so you could be lazy.”

Her head moved back and forth across the pillow. “You said I’d be a fool to think
we could do the farm work alone. The Lord knows I tried.”

He covered a laugh with a cough before letting his fingers slip into her hair. “Glad
you worked so hard making our home ready for my son.”

Laughing, Rachel placed a freshly washed bundle of baby in the crook of his arm. “I’m
afraid you’ve added to your workload with this tiny thing. Doubled if not tripled.
A long, roundabout process to scale down your responsibilities.”

Julia sat up against the headboard and caressed her son’s velvety cheek. He turned
toward her fingers, and Rachel gave
her a few minutes of instruction on feeding the baby before she left the room.

Feeling no fatigue, she placed her thumb in the babe’s grasp.

“He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Everett’s voice broke.

She raised her eyebrows. “You once said that about me.” Their son’s big blue eyes
stared up at her as if she were the most marvelous thing in the world. She caressed
his folded velvety ear. “He’s usurped me already.”

Everett’s hands planted themselves on each side of her lap, forcing her gaze off the
perfection in her arms.

“I suppose I’ve looked better.” She took in his dark, vivid blue eyes.

“No.” Everett’s voice was rough and low. “No you haven’t.”