Montana Wife (Historical) (14 page)

But as the lightning flashed, leading him around the
last bend of the road, home took on a whole new meaning. While he was no fool, he knew Rayna didn't love him. But they had respect and a mutual goal. That was enough in his mind. And what she'd said to him made all the difference.

He stopped the horses as close to the porch as he could before climbing down to help Rayna out. The ring he'd placed on her finger caught his eye. No small amount of feeling filled him. He had a
family.

His wife led the way through the cool house, her gait tired as she slipped out of his slicker and handed it back to him. “You'll need this, I imagine.”

He took it. “I noticed the wood boxes are low. I'll fill 'em before I go.”

“That would be a boon. I've got to get baking done today. I didn't want to stop at the bakery and pay for what I could do myself. Want me to put on a pot of coffee before you head out?”

“That would be mighty fine,” he answered on his way to the back door.

Politeness. It seemed a strange way for a newly married couple to act. Rayna supposed it would always be this way. For what warmth could a loveless marriage have?

She stoked the embers in the cookstove, adding kindling and the last of the cut wood in the box, and leaving it to burn while she hurried upstairs. As she unbuttoned her dress, she heard the back door open. The clatter of wood tumbling into the box rang through the floorboards.

Although she wore her undergarments and petticoats, she felt exposed. How was she going to face tonight, if this was how she felt in broad daylight with Daniel at the other end of the house? She tried to imagine what it
would be like to have him in this room while she wore nothing but a nightgown. She hurried into a calico work dress as the door closed downstairs and she was once more alone.

She pulled back the curtains. There he was, leading the horses to the barn. He handled them well, and the animals seemed to trust him. The big black Clydesdale rubbing his poll against Daniel's shoulder in affection.

She had work to do, and no time to dwell on regrets and losses. The ring on her hand felt uncomfortable, only because she wasn't used to that band. Or maybe it was her heart refusing to accept this new man in Kol's place. But duty was duty, and so she went downstairs to boil a fresh pot of coffee for the man who'd put his ring on her finger.

When she went to check the fire, she was surprised to see Daniel had added enough wood so that she wouldn't have to. The fire blazed merrily, but the heat couldn't chase the chill from her bones.

Careful of her wrist, she spooned coffee beans into the hand mill and ground them up fine. A knock at the back door startled her, and she was half expecting Betsy or Mariah, but it was Daniel, hefting the head-and footboards of a bedstead.

She opened the door, since his hands were full.

“I thought it was best to get my things moved,” he said on his way through the kitchen. “I mean to rent my cabin. Might as well. It'll help make ends meet.”

That answered her unspoken question. He would be sleeping here tonight. In her room. With her.

She returned to her putting the coffee on, hardly aware of what she was doing. Her entire awareness was focused on the sounds from overhead. Daniel's progress down the hall. The thud of the pieces of the bed being
lowered to the floor. Daniel's progress back down the stairs.

Rayna set the pot on the stove to boil and put away the mill. She was carrying the flour canister from the pantry when he strode into the kitchen, filling it with his presence. He said nothing on his way out the door. In truth, what was there to say?

She got to work, setting out the pans, the cooling racks, the rolling pin and batter bowls. Daniel returned, this time able to open the door himself, with a hank of rope and side rails made of rough wood.

By the time she'd greased and floured all six pans, Daniel had returned and she poured him a cup of coffee.

“I'll take this with me,” he said on his way to the door. The final click seemed to echo through the warm, yeasty-smelling room, and in the empty places in her heart.

Was this how it was to be? Endless silences and polite exchanges. Work and duty and that was all?

She didn't know what she expected. In truth, she hadn't thought too much about what followed the wedding.
Daniel is a fine man, you're lucky to have him.

Lucky, yes, but her heart just kept dying a little more.

The knock on the back door wasn't Daniel's this time. She recognized that happy rap even before she spotted Betsy's smiling face in the window and opened the door.

“I have your laundry!” Her dear friend burst into the room like a tornado, arms full of stuffed pillowcases, which she dropped on the window seat. “You were on my afternoon schedule, but I was driving the other way at the turn in the road and I thought, it's silly, I've been thinking about you and missing you. Oh! I've caught you in the middle of baking.”

“If you have time to stay, the coffee's fresh. As long as you don't mind me mixing dough while we talk.”

“Me? I'd take any chance I can to sit and visit with you. I'll get my own cup, you just go about with your baking.”

Like sunshine on this rainy day, Betsy seemed to light up the kitchen as she hung her coat on the back of a chair on her way to the pantry. “I saw a grandfather clock just like yours in Horner's front window and I had this horrible feeling it was yours. Tell me, whose wagon is out front?”

“You're not going to believe what I've done.” Rayna leveled a cup of flour and shook it into the bowl.

“Your wedding ring. It's gone. It's different.” Betsy stood slack-jawed with the china sugar dish clutched in both hands. “Rayna, what did you do?”

“It's best for the boys.” She took a steadying breath and set down the cup measure. “Daniel Lindsay and I were married this morning.”

“
Married? Why didn't you tell me before this?
I could have stood up with you. I could have planned a party. Does Mariah know? Of course she doesn't, or she would have told me when I stopped by this morning. What do you think you're doing, getting married without telling us?”

“It's an arrangement, that's all. It's so soon, I'm still walking into a room and part of me is expecting Kol to still be here. And now there's another man in his place.”

“Good. I can't tell you how worried I have been for you, my dear friend. Daniel Lindsay. I can't say I know him well at all, but my impressions of him are nice.” She rolled her eyes in womanly appreciation. “That's his table?”

“And his bedstead upstairs.”

“Oh. I have a bright side to this. Believe me, I know what grief is. I know what it takes to get over a man you love. But, Rayna, you will not have to go through this very lonely period of being unmarried and, well, there are certain benefits to having a husband in your bed.”

“Betsy Louise Hunter! I can't believe you said that!” Mortified, Rayna blushed and quickly went back to measuring cups of flour.

“What? You always laughed and joked with me about that.”

“I didn't have a stranger as a husband then. Mercy, what am I going to do? There's no way, I mean—”

“Daniel is your rightful husband. I know it has to be a burden being married to that fine specimen of a man, but one day you'll be comfortable enough with him to want, well,
you know.
” She waggled her brows suggestively. No one could be both serious and humorous quite the way that Betsy could.

“I'm
so
glad you came by.” Abandoning her work, Rayna wrapped her oldest friend in a hug. “How about you? Do you have your eye on any possible candidates?”

“For husband material? Well, there's the blacksmith, Zeke, but I don't know. He's nice, but he just doesn't make my blood warm. And since the storm, half the eligible men in town have gone bankrupt. Signed over their property to the bank or the land office and are packing up. Pickings are getting slim. Besides that, I've lost half my clients.”

“You were having a hard enough time as it was.”

“It's going to be a long winter, but I'm determined to remain optimistic. You can never tell when good for
tune is right around the corner. For both of us.” Betsy's look was one of empathy.

Just then the door flew open and there was Daniel, manhandling a chest currently missing the drawers. His mumbled, “'Scuse me,” was aimed in their general direction. He hauled the piece of furniture on past them and his labored gait knelled as he progressed upstairs.

“He's just darn handsome. I don't think I've ever gotten a good look at him.” Whispering as she went, Betsy closed the door against the wind-driven rain. “Those shoulders. I just love a man with wide, dependable shoulders.”

“Betsy, stop trying to cheer me up.”

“Honestly, look at this wonderful silver lining! Open your eyes. Gosh. Wait until I tell Mariah how bashful you've suddenly become!”

“Betsy!” It was a warning, for Daniel's steps were returning.

“He's that strong, silent type of man. I don't know, but I think it's the quiet ones that make the best lovers.”

“Betsy!” Rayna felt her cheeks flame as Daniel lumbered through the doorway, the tips of his ears pink. If he'd heard what Betsy said, then she'd make Betsy pay.

“You might want to go upstairs and see if that chest of drawers is where you want it.” He kept his gaze on the floor ahead of him as he went back out into the cold and rain.

“Yep, I stand by my assessment.” Looking far too pleased with herself, Betsy poured a cup of coffee. “And don't look so mortified. Goodness, if he did hear me, so what? I just gave him something to really think about.”

“Daniel and I don't need that kind of help.” Trying to stop blushing, Rayna wiped her floury hands on a
dish towel. “Come upstairs with me, if you can behave yourself. I think you're right. You've gone too long without a husband.”

“It's bad for a woman. It's like starvation. The longer you go, the better food looks.”

“I feel better now, you can stop trying to make me laugh.” In truth, she didn't think she could handle any more thoughts about the night to come.

Daniel hadn't told her what he expected from her, and she felt more as if she were walking in the dark, just feeling her way along.

D
aniel braced his feet, planted his fists on his hips and studied the drawers stacked on the barn floor. He wanted to get this furniture moved so he could bring over a load of hay and get it stacked before he ran out of daylight. He'd gotten a job in town shoveling coal at the depot.

He should be thinking about all he had yet to do to get squared away before starting work, but that woman in Rayna's kitchen had derailed him. He'd heard what she'd said about him.
He's that strong, silent type of man. I don't know, but I think it's the quiet ones that make the best lovers.

The worst part was that Rayna hadn't agreed. Otherwise, he might have liked being thought of as strong and silent. But it was the thought of being intimate that had made his wife scandalized.

There's my answer.
He figured a lady like Rayna would need time. He was no fool. He knew the only reason she married him had nothing at all to do with him. She didn't love him. Hell, she might not even like him. She would have married any decent man who had made her the same offer.

Since there was no point in standing around debating
about it, he grabbed the stacked drawers, pinching his thumb in the process, and carried them up to the house. As he started up the pathway across the back lawn, he could just make out Rayna in the bedroom window. The lustrous cloud of her hair piled up on her head. The graceful line of her profile, her perfect nose and dainty chin. The willowy way she moved.

That's my wife.
Daniel still couldn't believe it. As he made his way through his home, up the stairs to his woman, the tangle in his chest, which had been coiled and knotted up every time he looked at her, unraveled. Like a spool of fishing line with a fighting salmon hooked and playing out. He felt the tug on his heart like a hook sinking deep.

A practical marriage or not, she was his wife. His family.

This time when he came within hearing range, the women's talk was about some ladies' meeting in town. They fell silent as he entered the room, and he felt Rayna's steady presence the way the earth felt sunlight.

“Daniel, do you know Betsy Hunter?” Rayna asked as he lowered the stack of drawers to the floor.

“Howdy.” He began sliding the drawers in place.

“This is lovely wood.” Even though her friend was there, Rayna's attention turned to him. She stroked the pad of her forefinger along the beveled cover of the chest. “Thank you.”

The emotions in his chest kept on unraveling. It was her. She was making him feel this way.

Behind her was the bedstead he'd set up in the same place her other bed had been. He'd roped up the stays and set up the mattress. The dainty quilt on top, colorfully stitched circles interlocked looked strange. He was used to the army blanket on top, not something so frilly.

But it was something he could get used to.

He paused at the threshold. “I'll bring over a few more pieces tomorrow. I only use one of the drawers, so I guess that makes the rest of them yours.”

“And I have enough things to fill them, too.”

“Good.” With a brusque nod in Betsy's direction, he left without another word.

“He's not much of a talker, is he?” Betsy said after the downstairs door rattled shut.

“No. He's certainly a change around here.” Rayna's throat closed up. Why did the past feel so far away? The room was the same, the curtains and quilt the same, but she…she was different now, too.

She ran her fingers over the pink calico wedding ring, sewn so long ago. All her dreams for her life had been stitched along with the thread. Dreams that had come true.

She folded the quilt carefully in two. Then halved it again, until it was a small neat rectangle that she gathered up in her arms and held to her heart.

“Oh, Rayna.” Understanding broke in Betsy's voice. Her hand settled on Rayna's shoulder and stayed. “I have an extra quilt at home. I could lend it to you.”

“No, thanks. Maybe I'll piece another quilt. I've been wanting to start a new one.”

The bed looked better without the marriage quilt on it. A simple bed, made of white muslin sheets and a dark brown wool blanket. To match the plain headboard. Yes, that's what she'd do with the long winter evenings ahead. She'd piece a new covering for this marriage bed.

On the way down the hall, she stopped at the linen closet and hid the quilt away on the top shelf. It felt as if she were stowing what remained of her heart there, too.

 

The street that led past the feed store to the school was jammed full of wagons, buggies and surreys, and moving like molasses. Parents come to take their kids home. Cold rain splashed down by the buckets, and he shivered inside his rain slicker. He didn't like the feel of the wind. There'd be snow by morning. He had a lot of work to do before then.

The front doors of the two-story schoolhouse flew open. Hell, he was late. He'd spent more time at the sheriff's office than he figured. It had been his third visit, since Dayton's attack on Rayna, but the sheriff was new to Montana Territory and to the West. He wasn't bothered by a distraught widow's accusations. It didn't seem to count that Daniel had seen him trying to hurt Rayna.

Hell, it probably made it worse. The lawman only saw two men fighting over a beautiful widow with valuable land—and both men wanting the property
and
the woman. Rage licked at his soul as he took a deep breath to calm himself.

That was why Rayna wasn't fetching her sons from school. He didn't want her alone by herself. When he was hitching up and pulling over the cover, Nick Gray's wife, Mariah, had shown up with her little boy on her hip. It gave him some comfort that Rayna wasn't alone. He'd have to teach her how to protect herself, because he couldn't always be with her. And he suspected Dayton was plenty ticked off about missing the chance to get his hands on Rayna's piece of land. Mine now, he thought, with no small bit of satisfaction.

Well, it truly belonged to the bank, but he'd sit down with Rayna and have her cipher for him. They'd figure out a way to get that debt whittled down.

“Daniel!” It was Kirk who spotted him, with his
books slung over his shoulder, and leading his little brother by the hand.

Daniel could see that the stream of children rolling out the front door and down the steps was fanning out. Those that lived in town headed off in groups, walking home. The country kids climbed into their family wagons or carts or buggies. This was the side of life he'd never known when he was school age, and didn't really want to look at when he was grown, for it made the long span of years behind him feel desolate.

But that wasn't his future. He sure liked the feel of sitting here in line, the rain tapping off his hat brim. He would have hopped down to help the little one, but Hans was already climbing up on his own. He peered up at Daniel with those huge blue eyes.

“My Pa used to come get us.” His chin trembled and then he was gone, scrambling over the seat back and into the covered bed.

Kirk threw their books and slates in back. The empty lunch tin rattled as it rolled to a stop. “Don't mind him. Did you and Ma—?”

Daniel nodded as he took up the reins, but there was no going forward or back. Too many other horses and vehicles were in the way. Little kids were everywhere, and he made sure his wheels were clear before he followed the buggy ahead of him.

Kirk knocked water off the hood of his slicker. “I've been thinkin'. I know Pa left us in a lot of debt. He never could say no to Ma. Fact was, he couldn't say no to himself. He treated her real good.”

“Is that what you're worried about? That I won't?”

“Some. She's an awful nice ma. Some of my friends, well, they don't have a mother like mine.”

“I know she's nice. You don't have to worry.”

He thought of the lunch she'd brought him. Noon, on the dot, there she was, as pretty as any sunrise he'd ever seen, appearing out of the rain with a lunch pail and a steaming jug of coffee.

Inside the food tin he'd found two sandwiches thick with meat and good sourdough bread. Steaming baked beans, enough to warm him right up, and a couple cinnamon rolls, iced and topped with walnuts. The like of which he'd seen in bakery windows but had never tasted. There was no possibility that he'd ever do anything less than cherish this woman.

It was hard to form it into words so that Kirk could understand it. So he didn't even try. But to a man who'd known little kindness at all, who'd been useful for his blood, sweat and free labor, to have her treat him so fine…why, dedication melded hard in his soul. He was glad he'd married her. Glad he'd put up his land to secure Rayna's future. As she honored him, he intended to honor her in return. And more.

“Now that you're my stepfather, I don't figure you'll pay me for helpin' out in the afternoons. But I think I ought to get a job, maybe in town? To help out with taking care of everyone.”

“You're a good man, Kirk Ludgrin. It's a good idea, but the truth is that I need your help, if we're going to keep hold of both ranches. It's too much work for one man to do alone.”

“Then I'm your man.” Kirk straightened up a bit with his determination.

It was a strange feeling, this tug of warmth in his chest. His stepson. He'd always wondered what that would be like, if he ever had a son of his own. It must feel something like this, this softer, purer affection. Kirk
was his to protect, too. And so was the little guy tucked out of the rain in back, even if he was so quiet.

It was like being whole, as if his life had some worth, as he turned the horses toward home.

 

“My marriage began as a necessary thing,” Mariah said with assurance as she slipped on her coat in the small foyer. “For the sake of Nick's children. But love can grow in time. True love. The real thing.”

“That's what I had with Kol.” Rayna scooped toddling Jeremy up before he could help himself to the fireplace poker. “I know you mean well, but there is a time for everything in this life. I had the beautiful gift of Kol's love, and now that time is over.”

“You need to mourn him. He's part of your soul.”

“Exactly.” So, Mariah knew the depth of that real love, too. “It's a rare thing.”

“Yes. And deserves to always be honored. But that doesn't mean you are doomed to a life trapped in a cold marriage.” Looking troubled, Mariah stole her son and settled him on her hip. He cried out, still wanting the fireplace poker. Mariah kissed his brow and kept talking over his protests. “I don't want that sadness for you.”

“I've had my time to love. I am glad to say that I treasured every moment, and still do.” Rayna grabbed the umbrella from the stand in the corner and unwrapped it, concentrating on the task instead of the void in her soul. “Daniel is my life now. We don't have love, but we have respect. That is a great deal more than any marriages I've seen.”

“Respect isn't love. And I worry. He's a big man. A strong man. Betsy noticed, too, when she rushed over to tell me of your sudden wedding, that you conveniently never answered her question. You've done the same
with me. So, I'll ask it again and I want an honest answer. Please, my friend. How did you hurt your wrist?”

It was the look in Mariah's gaze, of concern, of protectiveness, that startled her. The umbrella slipped from her fingers and clattered on the floor, the sound was like cannon fire in the vacant room. “You think that Daniel did this? No, Mariah. No. I had a disagreement with old man Dayton.”

“What kind of disagreement?”

“The kind where he thought I was a widow with, um,
needs.
He never would have dared such a thing when Kol was alive. If Daniel hadn't come when he had…” She shook as she remembered. Ice settled in her veins.

“What about the sheriff? You did report it, right?”

“It's my word against a man's. This is not a fair world.”

“Then I'm grateful to your Daniel. If he kept you from harm, well, and because of him, you get to stay. Betsy and I didn't know what we'd do without you. We've known each other since we were six.”

She retrieved her umbrella instead of trusting her voice to answer. She'd always taken her life for granted. While she cherished her life and the people in it, she'd never stopped to realize how truly precious they were to her. Mariah's steadfast friendship, Betsy's sunny cheer—how they could talk about anything and often did.

And now, when she felt as if every part of her was eroding away, no one understood like her friends.

The season of her life was changing, but the hug Mariah gave her and the squeeze of her hand, said everything. It gave her strength to gather up the pieces of herself and to take a step forward. Then another.

The echo of the room behind her whispered of times
past. Of Kol reading by the fire, his newspaper crackling, the chair squeaking as he stood to steal a smoke on the porch. Kirk at his homework, the scratch of his stylus as he unraveled the mysteries of algebra. Hans's railroad cars clacking on the real steel tracks. The click of her knitting needles a background rhythm to the evening.

Like autumn, with all the leaves fallen from the trees, that's what the room reminded her of. But spring always eventually followed, right? Perhaps, in time, she could have some manner of happiness with Daniel.

“Keep the rag bag as long as you need to,” Mariah said on her way out the door. “Betsy said she'd drop hers by. So you can start on your new quilt.”

“Don't forget your rolls!” Rayna remembered at the last minute to grab the wrapped bundle on her way out the door, protecting Mariah and little Jeremy from the rain as they hopped into their covered buggy.

Once they were snug and settled behind the rain curtains and Mariah was gathering up the reins, Rayna hurried back to the porch. She waved off her friend, while shaking the wet from the umbrella. Mariah pulled her horses to a stop for Daniel's wagon to pass by.