Nordin, Ruth Ann - South Dakota Series 02 - Bid for a Bride (7 page)

"Lucy? What’s wrong?" It took her a moment to realize it was Brian who spoke to her.

"Nothing." She gasped and swallowed. "I was imagining things, and then I heard things that weren’t really there." Not there with them in the present, but she didn’t want to rehash the past.

"I should have insisted on coming out here with you," he said. "Ma says the darkness can be a frightening thing for a woman. Do you need to wash your hands?"

Taking a deep breath, she renewed her grip on the kerosene lamp. "Um… yes. I should." She held up the lamp. Where was the well? She remembered seeing it, but at the moment, she couldn’t remember its exact location.

He gently took her by the arm and led her to the well.

Glancing down, she noticed he didn’t have his walking stick with him, but she guessed when he was close to the house, he didn’t bother with it. That, or he was in a hurry to get to her.

Either way, she was glad he came out because the distance to the house seemed abnormally long in the dark.

When they reached the well, she quickly washed her hands, using the bar of soap close by and said,

"I’m ready to go back to the house."

She moved closer to him and was greatly comforted when he put his arm around her shoulders so that she could lean against him for support. When they got to the bedroom, she dropped her things in the corner of the room. Those clothes needed washing, which was something she’d deal with another day.

She doubted she’d be up to washing them tomorrow, but she would find a better place to store them until she was ready to do the laundry.

Brian settled into the bed and shut his eyes. Taking that as her cue that the day was officially over, she turned down the lamp until it was dark in the room and climbed in next to him. His body was nice and warm, and she suddenly realized how chilly she’d gotten outside.

"Brian?" she whispered, turning to him.

"Yes?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Will you hold me?" He drew her into his arms, and she snuggled up to him. She liked his solid strength and gentleness. After everything she’d been through, it was a much needed relief. Settling her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes and soon fell asleep.

***

Brian stirred in the bed and slowly inhaled. It took him amoment to figure out what was different. The enticing aroma of pancakes and coffee made his mouth water in anticipation.

Then he noticed that Lucy was humming to herself. He remained in bed and kept his eyes closed in case she peered in at him from the kitchen and knew he was listening to her.

The previous day’s events happened so fast that they seemed to blur into each other, but he was already in love with her. He didn’t think he’d love anyone after Annabelle told him she didn’t want him to court her. However, that was a good four years ago, and time had eased that heartache. Now he found old feelings stirring that he once thought he’d never experience again.

Lucy stopped humming, and the approaching sound of her footsteps alerted him to the fact that she entered the bedroom.

He felt the bed sink slightly as she sat next to him. "Brian?" she whispered. "Are you awake?"

Smiling, he opened his eyes. "Yes. You have a nice voice. I heard you humming."

"Why, you’ve been sneaky, being awake without telling me and all."

He noted the amusement in her tone and chuckled. "It’s not every day I get to wake up to such lovely company."

Her hand closed around his, and the bed shifted before he felt her lips on his cheek. "You’re a good man, Brian."

Touched, he squeezed her hand and then brought it to his heart.

"I’m glad you’re here." He hesitated but decided to ask the question he’d wanted to ask her ever since she agreed to be his wife. "May I touch your face? It’s how I get an impression of what people look like."

"Alright."

His heart pounded as he reached up. His fingers brushed hair first. Curious, he traced it to the nape of her neck where she had it pulled back into a bun. "How long is your hair?"

"It goes down to the middle of my back," she softly replied.

"It’s thick. Do you ever wear it down?"

"Mostly just to wash it. It tangles something awful if I don’t pull it back into a bun."

"I bet it looks nice though. It’s too bad I can’t see it."

Actually, it was too bad he couldn’t see her face either. There were a few times in his life when he wished he could see, and this was one of them. He’d heard she was beautiful, but he had no idea what that meant, except people enjoyed looking at her.

But then, Harvey said he thought Madeline was beautiful and to hear the townsfolk talk, you’d think the woman ought to put a bag over her head. Beauty, he had learned early on, was subjective. Still, he fancied that when people said Lucy was beautiful, she really was.

He brought his fingers to her cheeks and traced the curve of them upwards, making sure he didn’t poke her in the eye as he brushed her eyelashes and eyebrows. Her forehead was smooth.

Bringing his fingers back down, he traced the small arch of her nose and the curve of her lips, noting the lower lip wasn’t too much larger than the top one. Her chin jutted out only a little, and it didn’t have a cleft in it like Annabelle’s did. That was a good thing. He didn’t want to associate Lucy with Annabelle.

Then he brought his fingers back to her cheeks and decided she had high cheekbones.

Finished, he lowered his hands and settled them back on her hand which was still on his chest. "You’re skin is soft. You don’t spend a lot of time out in the sun, or you carry a parasol with you when you do."

"What would my face feel like if I did spend a lot of time in the sun?"

"Leathery. Rough. I spend some time in the sun without my hat. Do you feel the difference?" He took her hand and pressed it to his cheek and forehead before he pressed it to her own face.

"I don’t spend too much time in the sun, so it’s not too different."

"I feel it, but you’re right. The difference is subtle." She chuckled and touched his jaw. "Now, this stubble feels rough."

Grinning, he said, "I can take care of that with a razor."

"You shave yourself?"

"Yes. How did you think I did it?"

"To be honest, I thought your ma did it."

"No. I just feel where I need to shave. It’s easy."

She sighed. "I don’t know. You make it seem that way, but I bet if I closed my eyes, I’d have a terrible time shaving."

"You have a beard?" he teased.

"Oh, you!" She laughed and patted his hand. "All silliness aside, I came in to tell you that breakfast is ready."

"Then I shall dress and shave."

"Alright, but don’t take too long. Pancakes don’t stay warm for long."

He smiled as she stood up. Her footsteps retreated to the kitchen, and he got out of bed to get ready for the day.

After breakfast, Lucy walked with Brian to the work shed which had a table, a dresser, and the beginning of a bed frame. "These are for Harvey and Ingrid’s child. He turns three and will be moving out of the crib. It’s a good thing too since they’re about to have another one."

She nodded then remembered he couldn’t see her response.

"That’s good news for them."

He smiled and tapped his walking stick on the floor as he walked over to the table. "They had a hard time having the first one, so we’re all happy for them."

Sighing, she wondered what it would feel like to be excited over the impending birth of a child. She considered what she would feel if this was Brian’s child she might be carrying, and noted the difference in her mood. Her heart would be lighter.

"Lucy, what’s wrong?"

She turned to him, surprised he detected her change in mood so easily.

"Your sigh," he explained. "There was a hint of sorrow in it."

"You don’t miss anything, do you?" Tracing the unfinished dresser, she marveled at the precision in the cutting. "What part of the furniture work do you do? You don’t cut the design, do you?"

"You’re avoiding the topic," he gently said.

"Because I’d rather not talk about it." She looked at him, wondering if he’d press the issue.

After a moment of silence, he said, "I smooth the surface of the furniture, sometimes stain and paint them, and help deliver them."

She exhaled, glad he agreed to change the topic. Maybe in a few days she’d feel comfortable enough to discuss it, but she wasn’t up to it now. She cleared her throat. "Do you always have something to work on?"

"Pa and I do very well, but there are brief periods when there’s no work. Once in awhile, I assist him on a house repair in town, but for the most part, I stick with the furniture."

"Do you enjoy it?"

"Yes, I do. It’s soothing work, and I can feel the progress. I like knowing something is getting done."

"Well, it’s gorgeous work."

He smiled. "Thank you. Pa and I keep the stains, paints, and lumber in the other shed. Would you like to see it?"

"No, that’s alright. I was more interested in the furniture."

Someone knocked on the door, so she turned. John stood in the doorway and waved.

"Morning, Pa," Brian said and walked over to him.

She was about to ask Brian how he knew it was John but figured he probably picked up on some scent.

As if he read her mind, Brian turned in her direction and said, "Ma will start talking. Pa knocks."

"Oh." Well, so much for that guess. She was beginning to find how he picked up on so many things intriguing.

John placed his hand under Brian’s and made some more of those signs she saw him make the day before.

"Yes, we ate," Brian said. "Lucy’s a great cook."

Her cheeks grew warm from the compliment.

John smiled at her and used more signs.

Brian laughed. "I think so. Lucy, do you enjoy cooking?"

Looking at John, she nodded. "I like it well enough."

After John used a few more signs, Brian said, "Ma doesn’t care for it. She hoped that you liked it enough so that you’d help her improve her meals." He directed his face to John. "Ma doesn’t cook that badly."

John shook his head and did more signs.

"Oh, right. You said she doesn’t like it. I understand."

John continued to sign.

"Lucy, would you like to stop by their house for coffee and cookies? Ma actually enjoys making those."

"In that case, it would be wrong to miss it," Lucy replied.

John waved her toward the house and stepped aside.

Taking that as her cue, she walked passed him, said thank you, and left the small cabin. The two men joined her, and as soon as they reached the house, Eliza opened the door.

"Well, come on in," she said.

Lucy walked in first, followed by Brian who set his walking stick by the door.

"How are you feeling today, Lucy?" Eliza asked as she shut the door once John walked in.

Lucy glanced at Brian and smiled. "Much better. I like where you live. Nice and quiet. Peaceful."

Brian pulled out a chair. "Will you have a seat?" he asked Lucy.

"Thank you," she said.

"Don’t mind me," Eliza told the men. "I’m going to be jumping up and down getting the snack. Sit down and rest. We had a big day yesterday."

Brian sat to Lucy’s left and John sat next to him, leaving the seat to her right empty.

Eliza set out the cups and poured coffee into them. "Today John and I were planning to pick up your buggy. In fact, we were going to head out after this snack. Did you and Brian want to come along? You could pick up some items from the mercantile. I’m sure there are supplies you’ll want for your new home." She nudged Brian in the shoulder as she passed by.

"You might as well learn that once you married Lucy, that house became hers to do with as she wishes."

Brian laughed. "I don’t mind, Ma. At least she can see what’s in it."

John slipped his hand under Brian’s and signed to him.

Brian glanced in Lucy’s direction. "When Pa and Ma met, she insisted they paint all the rooms in the house."

Eliza set the coffee pot back on the cook stove and shook her head. "Really. I didn’t insist," she told John. "You wanted me to pretty the place up. Why else would you have planted those flowers all around the house?" She looked at Lucy as she picked up a plate of cookies. "He didn’t plant any flowers by that cabin I stayed in. His plan all along was to marry me and have me live in this house."

John shrugged, turned to Eliza, and raised his eyebrows.

"I know it worked," she told him before she put the plate on the table and sat down. "Lucy, would you like to paint your new home? That Willy has some paints on hand."

Lucy thought about the wood walls of Brian’s place. "Well, I wouldn’t mind something off-white. It’d lighten up the rooms."

John signed under Brian’s hand, and Brian said, "Pa says you have good taste."

"Oh, come on now," Eliza told John. "You didn’t mind it when I wanted to paint this kitchen yellow."

He winked at her.

She smiled and turned to Lucy. "What kind of curtains would you like?"

Lucy thought about it for a moment. "A light blue might be nice."

"There you go," Eliza told John. "She does want some color. You’d want white for everything."

Lucy hid her amusement and couldn’t help but wonder if she and Brian might one day share the easygoing relationship his parents did. She’d like to have that kind of closeness eventually. She glanced at him as he reached for a cookie.

To her surprise, he held it out to her. "Would you like one?"

She took it, thanked him, and bit into it. "It’s good," she told Eliza.

"It’s one of the few things I make without periodically burning it," Eliza said. "It’s not that I try to be a bad cook, but I don’t have whatever it is women are born with to be good cooks."