Nordin, Ruth Ann - South Dakota Series 02 - Bid for a Bride (11 page)

Even the memory of all those years ago made Brian angry. He no longer cried over any of his past, but there were times when he felt anger over what happened because now he understood what his father had done to him and his mother and there was nothing he could do to change any of it. She was still buried in the cemetery in Wyoming, and his father had gotten rid of him without enough concern to even give him food or water.

Brian recalled there being three days of walking through tall grass, crying until he was dehydrated and weak. That was when John and Eliza found him in the fields. He was so grateful to find another human being that he didn’t wonder if it was safe or not. Fortunately, John and Eliza turned out to be the type of people an eight-year-old blind boy could trust.

Footsteps brought Brian’s attention back to the coffee pot in front of him. He lifted the lid and smelled it, assured it was ready and took out two cups from the shelf above the cook stove. Whatever got him thinking of the past? He rarely did it anymore. Then he recalled Lucy’s situation. It was the possibility of her having Adam’s child that brought the memories back. Another man treating a woman wrong and then running off to potentially abandon his child. Few things angered Brian more.

Pushing aside the unpleasant feelings, he called out a greeting to Lucy, hearing from her footsteps that she was still in the bedroom.

Grinning, he walked to the bedroom, and from the direction of the rustling skirt, he turned his head toward the dresser. "Good morning. This time I made you coffee."

"Morning, Brian."

He frowned when he detected the worried tone in her voice. "Is something wrong?" She didn’t answer, and from the way all sounds stopped, he gathered she stood perfectly still.

"Lucy?" He reached out toward where he’d heard the rustling of her skirt.

"I’m still here," she whispered and took his hand.

Caressing her cool hand in his warm one, he asked, "What’s wrong?" He heard her bare feet scuffing across the floor before her arms went around his waist and she rested her head on his chest.

Surprised, but pleased, he wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on the top of hers so he could better smell her lavender soap.

They stood there for a full minute, and he was beginning to wonder if she’d ever tell him what was on her mind when she softly said, "I’ll find out in a couple days if I’m expecting a child or not."

"You have nothing to fear with me. I’ll love the child."

"I know you will, but I’m afraid I won’t."

"Sure you will. A mother can’t help but love her child," he said, thinking of his real mother and how much she loved him.

She loved him to the point of taking the brunt of his real father’s anger. He didn’t doubt for a minute that Lucy would lay down her life for her child, regardless of who the father was.

"I didn’t love Adam," she confessed. "I was fond of him. I thought he’d make a good husband and father, but I never loved him."

He wondered if it was wrong for him to be happy to hear her say those words. Obviously, she didn’t love him when she married him. Theirs was a marriage borne out of necessity. But at least he didn’t have to worry about her mourning the loss of someone she loved.

"I would have been faithful to him," she continued. "I meant the vows when I spoke them. I would have done what I could to be a good wife for him."

"I know."

"I meant those vows with you too, Brian."

"And I meant them with you. For better or worse, Lucy. We’ll get through this."

He felt her body relax.

"You feel better?" he guessed.

"A little."

"Good. We’ll take it one day at a time."

She remained in his arms for another minute before she stepped back. "Are you hungry?"

"A bit, but I can wait until I get to Ma and Pa’s place if you don’t feel up to cooking."

"No. I want to cook. I like to keep busy so I don’t worry."

"Whatever you feel up to is fine, Lucy."

"I’ll go out for a minute to take care of personal business and then I’ll be back."

He listened to her leave the house before he returned to the kitchen to pour their cups of coffee.

Maybe it was wrong, but he couldn’t stop smiling. Whether or not she had Adam’s child didn’t matter.

Being a father was more than getting a woman pregnant. Any man could do that. He didn’t consider his real father his actual father. John was his father. That’s where his loyalty and heart were, and he knew that Lucy’s child, should there be one, would feel the same way.

What had him smiling in what was probably a most foolish manner was the fact that she never loved Adam. The reason she married Adam meant little to him. Whatever the circumstances were, they were hers to tell him or keep to herself as she saw fit.

The only thing that mattered to him was that one day — sooner better than later — she’d tell him that she loved him. And deep in his heart, he thought the beginning of love was already there.

When Monday came, Lucy spent a lot of time going to the outhouse where she could check her rags to see whether or not she was bleeding. On Tuesday morning, she woke earlier than usual and slipped out of the bedroom. This time she didn’t even bother going to the outhouse. She lifted her nightgown and checked her rags. Nothing.

Her hands shook as she pulled her nightgown back down. She went back to the calendar she’d hung on the kitchen wall and counted the usual days in her cycle. It could be anywhere from twenty-eight to thirty days, and right now she was on her twenty-ninth day. That meant if tomorrow passed and she wasn’t bleeding, she’d have no other conclusion to make than the one she didn’t want to admit.

Slipping out of the house, she closed the door behind her so Brian wouldn’t hear her crying. She hurried away from the house in case he woke up and searched for her. Up ahead was the creek where she sat. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she allowed her tears to come as they wanted.

It was hard to go about the daily chores with the continual sense of dread pushing down on her. She left Minnesota to get away from this feeling, but all she’d gotten from that attempt was another reason to worry about how the future would play out.

After the onslaught of tears subsided, she remained by the creek, paying close attention to the gentle flow of the water. It soothed her as much as the lake back home had. She liked the bit of familiarity in her new world.

When she knew she could return to Brian without crying, she stood and went back to the house, relieved to see he was still asleep. She quickly got dressed and set about the chores of the day, opting to stay in her new home instead of going to visit Eliza.

The day passed in agonizing slowness. She spent most of the morning in bed, hoping the cramping would start, signaling the start of her flow. At lunch, Brian came home, and she made him something to eat, only half-listening to what he was saying.

She picked at her food since her stomach kept twisting up into knots.

Then he returned to work and she was alone again. She spent most of the afternoon cleaning. As she did, her eyes fell to the empty bedroom. With a resigned sigh, she took the broom into the room and swept it out. Today she’d sweep the floors.

Maybe next week she could plan for making curtains. It had to be one thing at a time.

It was close to four when she noticed feeling more tired than usual. She figured it was because she woke up earlier than usual. Lying in bed, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the cool May wind as it blew through the open window. While she drifted off to sleep, a mild pain began in her lower back and slowly spread to her abdomen. Bringing herself awake, she stood up and quickly checked her rags.

She nearly collapsed with relief when she saw she finally started her flow. She wasn’t pregnant after all! Sitting on the bed, she cried again, this time thanking God her worries had been for naught. Now if she had a child, it would be Brian’s.

Shortly after this, she set about the task of making supper and planning on what color to use for the curtains and rug she’d like to put in the spare bedroom. It was nice to enter the room with hope and anticipation for a change.

When Brian came home, she greeted him with a hug.

"You’re in a better mood," he noted, smiling.

"Yes. While you were gone, I discovered I’m not expecting a child. Now when I get pregnant, we’ll know you’re the father. I really want to have your child, Brian." By the look on his face, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. "Did I say something wrong?"

He blinked and shook his head. "No. I just got used to thinking of having a child in this house, that’s all."

She laughed. "We’ll have a child, Brian. It’s only a matter of time. Now, come on in and have a seat.

Supper will be ready soon." She patted the chair and turned to the skillet on the cook stove.

He obeyed and she got everything ready for their meal while she chatted on about what she did during the day.

***

On Sunday, Lucy and Brian went to church with Eliza and John, and as Eliza did most of the talking, Lucy held Brian’s hand which had become her habit whenever they went to town. After having lunch at Frank and Addy’s, they returned home and stayed at Eliza and John’s house through supper.

Shortly before sunset, they said good-bye to Eliza and John.

Lucy held Brian’s hand on the way back to their house, noticing that he didn’t bother using his walking stick to feel out his path.

"Aren’t you worried there’s something you’ll trip on?" she asked him.

"You’d let me know if there was anything obstructing my path."

"You’re right," she admitted, realizing she’d been scanning the ground for anything she needed to warn him about. "You seem to know me pretty well."

He shrugged. "I just have a feeling you’d do that, that’s all."

They continued on in a comfortable silence, and when they reached the trees that marked where their home was, she said, "It’s been a good day, don’t you think?"

"Yes, it has."

She glanced at the trees with their green leaves. "So you love autumn when the leaves fall from the trees?"

"It’s the smell in the air and the sound of the leaves crunching under my feet when I walk that I love.

It’s a vibrant time of year. Spring is second to it. You can smell the change in seasons best during those two times of the year."

"I’ll have to pay better attention to things like that."

"I don’t really think about it. I did when I was a child, but now, it just comes naturally to me."

They passed under the trees and she stopped.

"What is it?" he asked. "Is there something in my path?"

"No. It’s…" She glanced at him and then turned to the fields where she saw the spectacular colors in the sky. "It’s the sunset." She wrapped her arms around his waist. Resting her head on his chest, she took in the beauty of the evening. It was a perfect ending to a perfect day, and it was a part she couldn’t share with him. "I wish you could see it."

"I get the idea," he whispered and brought his arms around her.

They remained silent for awhile. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine what this moment was like for him. The warm day had cooled a bit, but it was still comfortable to stay outside.

She thought she heard a squirrel run past and was tempted to open her eyes to verify this fact but refrained. A couple of birds chirped from where they nested in the trees, and if she was right, she heard the leaves rustling in the breeze.

Something brushed her cheek, and her eyes flew open. Brian was stroking her face with his fingers.

She looked up at him and waited to see what he’d do next. His fingers went from her cheek to her lips, slowly tracing them until he closed his eyes and leaned forward. She closed her eyes in anticipation of the kiss but it never came. One moment his fingers were on her lips and the next he pulled away from her. Surprised, she opened her eyes and saw that he was using the walking stick to help him on the way to the house.

"I’ll make the coffee," he called out over his shoulder.

Unable to think of a proper response, she stood there and tried to access what had just happened. He wanted to kiss her. So why didn’t he? Lifting her skirt, she headed for the house, determined to figure out why he stopped. When she reached the front door, she peered into the kitchen.

He was retrieving the coffee pot from the shelf. She stepped into the house and shut the door loud enough so he’d have to hear her. She waited to see if he’d respond, but he placed the coffee pot on the work table.

Deciding that she’d press the issue, she walked forward and asked, "Do you want to kiss me?" He didn’t respond. Instead, he filled the pot with water.

Walking up to him, she placed her hand on his. "I asked you a question. Do you want to kiss me?"

After a long moment, he turned his face in her direction. "Yes."

Her heart raced with unexpected excitement. Sounding braver than she felt, she said, "Then kiss me."

He hesitated but then brought his hand to her face, tracing her cheek and then her lips. She closed her eyes and waited for him to lean forward to kiss her. When he did, she was surprised by the gentleness of the action. It was a mere whisper on her lips.

She opened her eyes. Before she could ask him to kiss her again, he cupped the side of her face with his hand and brought his mouth to hers. A spark of excitement shot straight through her. She didn’t know why his kiss should be any different from the ones Adam had given her, but they were.

Adam, she now realized, had kissed other women before and seemed to rush the kisses to get to the bed, but Brian didn’t seem to be in any hurry. Brian turned to her and wrapped her in his arms. She brought her hands up to his face and focused on feeling his face the way he felt hers. The stubble from the day’s growth of beard was the first thing she noticed, but then she moved her fingers to his ears and then his hair, noting the silky texture.