After the Rain (4 page)

“And did he?” Rand asked, drawn into the story.

“No. Worse yet, he began inviting an associate home for dinner quite often, trying to push the man’s affections on me.”

“Maxwell Donahue?”

“Yes.” She shuddered. “A more vile man I’ve never met. To my mother and father, he acted, charming, but the moment he had me alone, he would attempt to force me into things I didn’t wish. When I resisted, he would strike me. By the grace of God, he never succeeded fully in what he wanted.”

Rand’s fist clenched. Some people shouldn’t even have the right to breathe. “I’m so sorry for what you went through.”

“That was a scary time, but otherwise I might never have had the opportunity to marry Daniel. When my father told me I must marry Maxwell, I knew that was something I could never do. I broke down and told Daniel what had been happening. I was so ashamed, I hadn’t told anyone to that point except my mother.” She paused for a second. “Daniel was so angry, he threatened to kill Maxwell with his bare hands.”

That was a sentiment Rand understood very well. He was feeling the same thing at this exact moment. “What happened?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“I calmed Daniel down by explaining if he did that, it would ruin any chance of a future for us. Reluctantly, he agreed not to go after Maxwell. The next day, he sent me a message via a courier to meet him that evening.” Brushing absently at her dress, she continued. “Intuitively, I knew what he was going to propose when we met. I packed a bag and had a trusted maid slip it out of the house. That night, Daniel and I went to the next county over and eloped.”

“I do believe you have a spirit of adventure in you,” Rand commented, trying to break the heaviness hanging in the air.

“Not really. I did what I had to do as did Daniel. He was my best friend, my protector. Eloping was the only way we could be together and keep me out of Maxwell’s reach.”

“And your parents?”

“They all but disowned me. My father never spoke to me again. Other than a chance meeting a year into my marriage, my mother didn’t contact me again until just after Daniel’s death. That’s when Maxwell and she began pushing me into marriage again.”

“You are safe here, Lettie. You are my wife now and I won’t let anything happen to you.” He reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “Our children will only know love.”

Had he used the plural purposely or was it an honest slip? He couldn’t honestly say he didn’t want multiple children. He’d have an entire houseful if Lettie were willing. And he would never treat them poorly as Lettie’s parents had to her. A sadness encased him for what she’d gone through. It just wasn’t right.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her face pale. Sharing her story had visibly taken a lot from her. “Tell me about Mellie.”

He released her hand and rubbed the back of his neck. Since she’d shared her story, telling her about Mellie was only fair. The pain wasn’t as fervent as it once had been. “I moved to Wyoming from Kansas a year after Mellie’s death. My parents settled in Kansas several years before I was born. Around that time, families were flooding the area claiming the free land offered. Mellie’s parents were one such family and established a farm neighboring my parents. Unfortunately, Mellie’s mother was very frail and not suited to farm life. When Mellie was twelve, her mother passed away. Her father never recovered from losing his wife and two years later, up and disappeared.”

“He abandoned his daughter?” Lettie eyes widened.

“Yes. Mellie, bless her heart, never uttered a bad word about him and continually defended him. She was an exceptionally generous and forgiving woman. However, she was left alone, no family to whom she could turn. There seemed to be no question that my parents would take her in.” He sighed. “Our lives were moving along fine until five years later, my parents were killed in a buggy accident. By that time, my sister, Eliza, had married and moved to Texas with her new husband, leaving Mellie and me alone in the house. The arrangement was not appropriate, so we decided marriage was our best option.”

“Had you courted each other?”

“No,” he admitted honestly. “She was a friend, delicate like her mother, and I had never thought of her as a potential wife.”

A cloud of emotion he couldn’t recognize darkened her eyes. “You didn’t love her?”

“At first, I only loved her as I would a dear friend. Our first year of marriage was rather strained, but soon we both opened ourselves to the possibility of love. When it finally struck me, it hit hard. We had five wonderful, love-filled years of marriage before her heart gave out on her.”

“We’ve had so much sadness in our lives,” Lettie uttered.

“Yes, but that doesn’t have to define us. If anything, the trials of our lives should teach us to live each day with joy and never take a person for granted.”

“That is true.” Lettie nodded her head in agreement. “Also, to treat people with kindness, regardless of their station in life. Sometimes I wonder if I wasn’t adopted because I am so different from my parents. Social status and money have never meant much to me but meant everything to them. My mother was content to live in a life of leisure, but that lifestyle bored me. Not until Daniel and I had our own small farm near his family’s place, did I really feel alive.”

Several times, she’d mentioned Daniel’s family with an implication they were close and he couldn’t help wondering why she hadn’t gone to them, why they hadn’t taken her in. Moving from his seat, he went to stoke the fire. He decided to go ahead and pose the question. “Why didn’t you turn to Daniel’s family after his death?”

For a long time, she remained quiet. A tear formed at the corner of her eye. “I couldn’t. Maxwell’s family owns the bank. Helping me could have put Daniel’s family at risk. As it was, they already faced financial troubles when I married Daniel because Maxwell created problems for them at the bank. I couldn’t put them in that situation again. They don’t even know where I am,” she said through a sniffle.

Rand rubbed his chin. He hadn’t realized the extent of danger Lettie had faced in Maryland. A surge of protectiveness overwhelmed him. “You can write them now if you’d like. I’ve said it before and I mean it—you are safe, here in Weatherton. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I would like to write to them. I hated the idea of leaving without a word.” Her hand covered her mouth as a yawn escaped.

His heart went out to her. He knew she was exhausted but reluctant to go to bed, and he tried to make the situation easier. “I’m going to stay out here by the fire for a while. Don’t feel you have to keep me company.”

Lettie emitted a relieved sigh. “If you don’t mind then, I think I will retire for the night.” She stood from her chair and smoothed out her dress.

“Good night.” He brushed her arm in a quick caress.

“Good night, Rand,” she replied, and then walked in the direction of the bedroom they’d be sharing for the night.

His eyes remained trained on her until she disappeared out of sight. Returning to a chair, he sat down and reflected on the day. Needless to say, events had not gone as planned, but he didn’t regret how the day had played out. If Lettie hadn’t almost fallen, they wouldn’t have ended up at the Foster’s house, Lettie wouldn’t have made an instant friend and they may have not had a chance for the intimate conversation they’d shared just now.

Continuing to watch the fire until it died down to small embers, he felt further confidence that the Lord had brought him and Lettie together. He prayed for a contented marriage that would be blessed with many years of happiness. As he said amen, he opened his eyes and gave a final look around the room. He went to the fireplace and banked the ashes over the hot coals. Sliding a finger through the ring of the candle holder, he picked it up for a light to find his way through the darkened home.

Entering the bedroom, he heard soft and steady snores coming from Lettie, which elicited an amused smile. He would never tell her she snored, but the sound itself was comforting because it meant she was sleeping soundly, getting the rest she desperately needed.

Despite the inconveniences the winter weather caused, he was glad for this season. The coldest months of the year were a slower time for working and allowed for more leisure time, something that was rare during the spring and summer months. Silently he added another vow to those he’d made earlier—he would spend the next weeks taking care of Lettie so she could recover from her fatigue.

February slid into March. Snow that covered the plains slowly melted away, exposing patches of brown grass and dirt. The air was still cold, but had lost its frigidness. On this particular day, the sun was out in full glory, sending rays of warmth to the earth below. In need of fresh air, Lettie placed her cape over her shoulders, her midsection was too expanded for her coat, and left the house after grabbing a basket to hold the eggs she was going to gather.

Walking in the direction of the barn, she took her time, soaking in the heat of the sun and breathing in the fresh air. Since arriving in Weatherton three weeks ago she’d, maybe, spent a total of fifteen minutes outdoors. Rand had watched over her like a mother hen, going out of his way to keep her off her feet. She had to admit, for the first few days, she’d indulged and enjoyed the break. Her body felt like it had been beaten and bruised, and she hadn’t realized how drained she’d been, both physically and spiritually.

At the end of the first week, she’d become restless. Her energy was returning, and guilt niggled at her for not participating in chores. Finally, she had to confront Rand and tell him she appreciated what he was doing, but she had to start doing some things on her own. Yesterday morning he agreed to hand over all cooking tasks. Personally, Lettie thought his concession had more to do with his own lack of cooking skills than relinquishing responsibility.

Their meal two nights ago had consisted of dried biscuits, greasy bacon and soggy eggs. By far, it had been the worst tasting meal she’d ever eaten, but she’d consumed every last bite of it. Rand had been so kind and thoughtful, she didn’t want to risk offending him and she had been hungry. Lately, it seemed she wanted to eat everything in sight. This morning she’d eaten half a loaf of bread with butter spread over the soft sides. Thinking back, she was embarrassed by how much she’d eaten, but at the time her stomach kept wanting more. If this continued until the baby arrived, she’d be as large as a cow.

Continuing to watch her steps carefully as to not find an icy patch or a slick mud puddle, she finished her short trek to the barn. She looked for Rand, but didn’t see him, so she walked through the barn and to the other end where the chicken coop was. The latch was rusty, and she had to jiggle the handle to open the gated-off area.

Many of the hens were subdued today, sitting in their nests. She went from one to the next, carefully lifting the hens while holding back their wings and quickly grabbing the eggs from under them. If only the task of collecting eggs were this easy every day. Back in Maryland, she’d had plenty of experience being pecked through her clothing. Those were the times she was grateful for the layers of clothing a woman was destined to wear.

Her basket was half full and there were no more eggs to collect. She’d check again later that evening before supper. Beginning her walk back to the house, she spotted Rand digging a posthole. At her feet was a large pile of snow that he’d shoveled aside to clear a path to the barn and because of its size, the heap was taking longer to melt. An idea formed, bringing a mischievous grin to her face. She and Daniel used to love snowball fights.

Would Rand also or would he be upset should she throw one his way? Taking a chance since she’d learned he had a sense of humor, she set the basket on the ground, carefully stooped down and gathered snow in her hands. Patting it in her palms and smoothing it until it was a perfect circle, she tried to stand back up—only, she’d forgotten the limitations her swollen body placed on her.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stand back up and her ankles teetered precariously.

“Drat, drat, drat,” she muttered. So much for impulsive behavior, to have a little fun. On second thought, she still had to get his attention somehow and quickly before she ended up a muddy mess. She arched her arm back then swung it forward, releasing the ball of snow with a precise aim. It hit its target square in the back.

“What was that?” Rand jumped from his hunched position.

“Over here,” she called out, torn between wanting to laugh at his expression or cry at her predicament.

“Whatever are you doing?” He strode her way.

“I’m stuck,” she laughed, giving him a coquettish smile. “I had to get your attention somehow.”

Extending his arms, he slipped them under her shoulders and pulled her to an upright position. With a stern voice but twinkling eyes, he questioned, “And how did you come to be in that position?”

Pink tinted her cheeks. “I, uh, dropped the basket of eggs.”

“And they all miraculously survived?” Eyeing the perfect basket of eggs, his lips twitched with laughter. “Tsk, tsk. And to think I admired you for your honesty.”

Lettie let go of her laughter, feeling almost giddy at the playful banter. How long had it been since she’d felt free to have a little fun? “Would a fresh batch of sugar cookies redeem my reputation?”

He cocked his head to one side and crooked a finger to his chin, deliberating. “Hmm. It would go a long way in restoring my opinion. But I think for the full redemption, a hot cup of coffee will also be in order.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

“In all seriousness, please be careful. I told you I’d be happy to continue collecting the eggs. You need to rest and take care of the baby.”

Heaving an exasperated sigh, she looked him straight in the eye. “Women have been having babies for all of time without becoming lazy. I feel great now, honest.”

He wrung his hands and Lettie could see the internal battle playing out through his eyes. “I suppose you’re right, but none of those women have been carrying my child.”

All of her frustration at his overprotective nature swept away when he referred to the baby as his child. Daniel could never be replaced, but she and this baby were fortunate to have Rand step in and take full responsibility. She couldn’t fault him for caring about this new life inside of her.

“I’ll make sure to take several breaks throughout the day to rest. And no more crouching into positions I can’t get myself up from.” She cast a wink toward him. “Is that a fair compromise?”

“Yes. I can’t promise I won’t still worry, but I’ll try my best not to be domineering in my concern. Now, about those sugar cookies, do I have to wait for them or are they ready now?”

“Give me an hour, and I’ll have some ready with your noon meal.”

“If they’re not already made, you don’t have to add to your workload.”

She sent him a warning glance.

“Unless you want to make them,” he amended.

“Baking is relaxing for me. I enjoy the work.”

“An hour you say?”

“Give or take a few minutes.”

“I’ll finish up this segment and then come in to wash up. The new corral should be finished by tomorrow.” He bent over and picked up the basket of eggs, then held out his other arm, its elbow bent. “First, I’ll walk you inside.”

Lettie slipped her arm through his, enjoying the brief contact. Their friendship was deepening every day, catalyzed by being stuck indoors together for extended periods of time. The strong bond between them had come as a surprise, but a serendipitous one. They reached the house, and he released her arm to open the door.

“I’ll be back shortly,” he told her, handing over the basket of eggs. He bent over and placed a quick kiss on her cheek.

Taken off-guard, Lettie scurried into the kitchen. She set the eggs down and placed her palm against her cheek in the spot Rand had kissed. It was a brief and innocent contact, but her skin burned and heart raced. What was happening to her? Must be the silly pregnancy emotions, she thought, remembering that Daniel’s two sisters had become overly emotional while with child.

She opened the icebox and pulled out a bowl of dough she had mixed yesterday afternoon. After flouring the surface of her work space, she broke the dough in half and rolled each lump into a cylindrical shape before slicing them into individual cookie sizes. She placed the cookies onto a tin sheet then put them in the oven. 

On top of the stove, she had a chicken stew simmering. Lifting the lid, she checked on its progress and deciding it was too watery still, tossed in a pinch of flour. She’d have preferred cornstarch, but supplies were limited. They hadn’t been to town since her arrival, and a trip was overdue. There were certain staples she liked to keep in her pantry, and while Rand had done a good job of stocking basics, she’d like to supplement it. Not much as she knew money was a concern but enough to make the meals have a little more flavor and variety.

When Rand came in to eat, she broached the subject. “Do you plan on making a trip to town soon?”

“Actually, I was planning one for Saturday if the weather holds up. Was there something in particular you wished for?”

“I’d like a few things to add to the pantry if there’s money for that.” She only wished to be respectful of his finances, but he blanched, as though the words hurt him.

“Make a list of everything you need and want. There’s not money to spend on frivolities, but I can give my wife a stocked pantry,” he said in a clipped voice.

Upset at his tone, she silently served him his meal. She didn’t understand how a simple question had upset him so badly, especially when they’d shared such a lively, but tender, moment outside earlier. Rand also appeared to lose any desire for conversation. He ate his meal and left the house, not even waiting for one of the coveted cookies.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Lettie tried to keep her emotions in check. What had she done wrong? Was it so wrong to be respectful and ask before making a purchase from the mercantile? She looked out the window and watched grab a post from his stack and pound it into the ground. A lump formed in her throat and she turned away. Watching him only upset her further.

To keep busy, she cleaned up the dishes from their meal. Her food remained barely touched and not because the bread she’d eaten that morning had sustained her nutritional needs until then. She grabbed a broom from the corner and vigorously swept the entire house, downstairs and the two bedrooms upstairs. Next she fixed a pail of hot soapy water and got down on her hands and knees to scrub the floor clean, forgetting her troubles in standing back up.

An aching back prompted her to stop before she was finished, but she couldn’t make herself continue. Trying to stand, she found herself stuck for the second time that day. A grimace marred her face as she crawled several feet to the kitchen table. Using a chair to support her weight, she struggled against her hindered balance to stand upright. Finally, she managed to partially stand, enough to slide into a chair. Worn out from her efforts, she laid her head down on the table and closed her eyes.

“I’ll just rest for a few minutes before continuing on.”
But nothing that requires stooping down¸
she added silently. Drifting into a light sleep, her head and body jerked when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

“Shh, it’s just me,” she heard Rand say.

Shifting in the chair, she turned to look at him. Tired and cranky, she shot him a glare for his attitude earlier. Under normal circumstances, she would have behaved more properly, but her back smarted with a dull pain, her feet were swollen and her feelings were hurt. Not a combination conducive to positive interaction.

“What do you want,” she snapped, instantly appalled at the acrimonious tone she used, but not enough to apologize immediately

Rand faltered. “I guess I deserved that.”

She looked at him, still scowling, trying to fight the tears brimming in her eyes. Until losing Daniel, she’d never been given to fits of crying and the more frequent crying episodes only fed her agitation.

“I came in to apologize for my behavior earlier.” He sat down next to her, his eyes crinkled with remorse.

“Oh,” she whispered, feeling ashamed of her outburst when he’d come back to make things right.

“My pride got the better of me. Every man wants to provide the best for his family. Although we’re not destitute by any means, I wish I could give you your pick of anything you want at the mercantile, but it’s not possible right now. When you asked if there was money for pantry items, I was unjustly offended that you thought I couldn’t even provide those.”

“I only wanted to be respectful by not assuming I could purchase the items,” she told him, trying to keep the tears from falling. “The people in my life are what make me happy and content, not material things.”

“I know that, but it doesn’t stop a man from wanting to give his family the best. Will you accept my humble apology?”

She nodded. “And I am sorry I snapped at you just now.”

His gaze traveled to the pail of water, now murky, still on the floor with a rag hanging over the edge. He narrowed his eye, opened his mouth to speak, apparently thought better of it and clamped his lips together.

“Would you like those cookies and cup of coffee now?” she asked, eager to fill the air with anything other than silence before he decided to chide her for mopping.

“Sit still. I’ll get them. Would you like some, too?”

“Yes, please. Thank you.” Her body was too weary to argue with his offer of assistance.