Sweet Annie (13 page)

"Would you like some
potatoes, Will?" Diana asked her son.

He nodded and she served
him. He sat on a stack of books across from Annie, a dish towel tied around his
neck to protect his clothing.

Annie loved watching his animated expressions as he
sampled the food on his plate. Everything he did was an adventure. The sliced
potatoes kept slipping off his fork, so using Will's fork, Burdy patiently
stabbed a slice at a time for the boy to get them to his mouth himself.

"You're a good daddy," she told her
brother softly.

He shrugged modestly and
took a bite of his own meal. He'd been a good brother, too, if a bit
over-zealous in protecting her.

"He's a very good
daddy," Diana agreed. "He even reads Will a bedtime story every
night."

The scenario sounded so
normal. Annie couldn't have been happier for her nephew, having a kind mother
and an attentive father...enjoying his health and a typical childhood.

All the things she'd longed
for. All the things that had never been hers. Her thoughts kept straying to
Luke's intent, as they had every day since the night he'd expressed his
interest in her. Charmaine had been right—about the courting part.

Could something so ordinary
and so wonderful truly be happening to her? Should she allow her dreams to
include a family of her own—a husband—children like Will?

For the first time she'd
begun to think that those things were possible for her. Happiness bubbled up
inside without a means of expression.

After coffee and dessert,
which Mildred served herself, the family headed back outside. Annie remained
in the kitchen to help Glenda finish. "Will you take this note for
me?" she asked. She'd prepared it that morning.

"Glad
to help a budding romance," Glenda said with a sly grin and took the
paper, tucking it into her pocket.

"Go on now, I'll dry
that pan," Annie told her.

Glenda
thanked her, hung her apron on a peg in the pantry and wished her a good
afternoon.

"You,
too." Annie dried the pan, put it away and took herself out back.

The
three adults were engaged in a game of croquet, and Will was getting in trouble
trying to play with the wooden balls.

"Here,
Will!" she called. "There's a rubber ball on the porch right
there." She got the message across to him and he ran up the ramp, got the
ball and carried it back to her.

"Let's move over here
and throw it."

Of course Will's pitches
landed on all sides of her, rarely reaching her unless they caught her in the
head or the chest. It would have been so easy for her to get out of her chair
and simply walk to the ball each time. Her arms grew tired of pushing the
wheels over the grass, and her frustration became a coppery taste in her mouth.

The
ball sailed six feet to her right and the temptation to stand grew so strong,
she drew a deep breath.

Standing,
she limped to retrieve it and tossed it back.

Wide-eyed,
Will grinned and picked it up, only to toss it in the other direction. Annie
went after it. This was so much easier—and so much fun! Will was delighted,
too, crying, "Nannie! Nannie!"

"Annie!"
Her mother's shriek broke into their joyful game. Burdell was at her side in
an instant, pushing her chair up behind her.

"What
are you doing, child?" her mother cried in horror. “Thank goodness there
was no one here to see this!"

Annie
sat and stared up at her, a sick feeling sinking in her chest. "What do
you mean?"

"I
mean—you could have hurt yourself! You could have fallen! You may already have
been hurt." She turned to Eldon. "Do you think we should send for the
doctor?"

"I'm fine,
Mother," Annie said with disgust.

"Are
you certain?" her father asked. "Does anything hurt?"

They
had no idea, no idea whatsoever. "Yes, my arms, from pushing this damned
chair across the grass."

"Annie!"
Mildred's hand flattened on her breast in offense. "Such language is
inappropriate for a lady!"

"It's
my fault," Burdell said. "I wasn't paying attention and Will wore
her out."

"Will
didn't wear me out," Annie disagreed with a disgusted flick of her hand. “All
this invalid stuff is wearing me out."

Her
mother's pale face took on a positively stricken expression. She grabbed her
husband's arm. "That tea that the Philadelphia hospital suggested. That
will relax her. I'll go prepare it immediately."

"I
don't need to be 'relaxed', Mother!" Annie called to her back. She studied
her father's helpless expression, Burdell's smothering look of concern, and
noted that Diana was giving the two men curious looks.

She
met Annie's gaze.

"Diana,
will you push me to my room?"

Diana stepped behind her.
"Of course."

She wheeled Annie past her
mother, who was fanning the fire in the stove, and got her to her room.

"You
are all right, aren't you?" Diana said, more of a statement than a
question.

"I'm
perfectly fine except for wanting to tear my hair out and scream."

"Don't do that. Your
hair is too pretty to tear out."

Annie
couldn't suppress a smile. "I'm just so tired of being treated as though
I'm worthless," she said wearily. "I can do things! I can
walk!
They just won't let me." She got out of her chair and demonstrated,
walking first to the window and then to the wardrobe. The enormous room allowed
her space to walk in a circle and she did so, as she'd done every day for weeks
and weeks. "Is this so awful? Is my limping so hideous that I should be
ashamed and hide myself away? Is it? Do I embarrass you?"

“Not
in the least! I'm thrilled you can walk so well. I had no idea."

"Because
they don't allow it." Her temper had cooled and she stepped to the
overstuffed chair near the window seat and sat, cradling this new injury to her
pride and confidence.

Her sister-in-law took a
seat on the padded window bench. "Maybe they just need some time,"
she said.

"How
much time? Nineteen years, would that be long enough?" She hated the catch
in her voice that gave away her hurt feelings.

Diana's
glance at the ceiling and bob of her head said she'd gotten the point. Nineteen
years hadn't been enough to show them she was capable of anything more than the
slim allowances they'd permitted.

"I'll
speak to Burdell," she promised. "Maybe that'll make a
difference."

Annie
didn't hold much hope that it would, but she was grateful that Diana understood
and cared. "Thanks."

Mildred
tapped on the door and opened it, a tray balanced between her hip and forearm.
"Annie?"

Annie
rolled her eyes at Diana. “Come in, Mother. You'll notice I'm not foaming at
the mouth."

"I've made you
tea."

"I'm not going to
drink it."

"Of
course you will. The doctors warned us you might become agitated from time to
time."

"Yes,
I get agitated. So would anyone in my situation. But I don't want to be
drugged."

"Don't be difficult,
dear—"

"Mother,
please. I'm not a child. I'm not being difficult. Please stop treating me as
if I were six years old."

Her
mother sat the tray on a cherry wood table and wrung her hands, her dismay
evident. "I don't know where this attitude has come from. Diana, talk some
sense into her."

Startled,
Diana glanced up. "She makes perfect sense to me. I can't imagine anything
I'd have to say. She has some valid points if anyone cared long enough to
listen."

Mildred
stiffened and clasped her hands together. "I might have expected as much
from you."

She
turned and quit the room in a huff.

Diana
shrugged.

"I
have something to show you." Annie got up and walked over to her wardrobe.
She withdrew the green dress and held it for her sister-in-law to see.

"That's
a pretty dress."

"Isn't
it positively
normal?"
She
held it against herself and gazed down fondly. "I sewed most of it myself,
too. Aunt Vera showed me how and helped when I made a mistake, but I pretty
much did it on my own."

"That's
impressive. I've never sewn a dress for myself."

"Really?
Well then I guess I'm impressed, too." She grinned. "But you can do
so many things. You're independent and smart and politically savvy."

"Not
exactly sterling qualities in your mother's book, are they?" Diana asked
with a wry tone.

“And
you have a beautiful little boy, who is bright and happy."

"He is, isn't
he?" Pride shone in her dark eyes.

"And
you obviously make my brother very happy. He adores you."

"He
adores you, too, Annie. But he treats me completely different than he treats
you."

"Because he looks at
you as an adult," Annie said. "An equal."

"He's overprotective
because he loves you."

"I know that. But it's
smothering."

"I promised you I
would talk to him, and I will."

Annie
nodded her understanding. "I know. Thank you."

After
a few more minutes, Diana left to join her husband and son. Annie stayed in her
room, pacing for a time, then lying on the bed and allowing her thoughts to
roam.

She
opened her eyes and discovered she'd fallen asleep. Darkness shrouded her room.
She sat, finding her arms and legs achy from excessive use that day. Flexing
the muscles, she brushed the wrinkles from her clothing and wheeled herself to
the kitchen for water to wash and clean her teeth.

The
house sat dark and silent; her parents had been upstairs for quite some time.
After washing, she checked the Seth Thomas clock on the mantel, then silently
unlocked the back door and wheeled down the ramp and along the hard-packed path
to the gate. By the time she reached the end of her street, her arms were
trembling, but the pain was forgotten as soon as she saw the dark horse and the
tall man beneath the glow of the silvery moon.

Chapter Seven

“You got
the
note. I'm sorry I'm late," she said. "I fell asleep."

"I
didn't mind the wait." The nearest house here at the edge of town was
several hundred yards away, and a dozen pine trees plus a blooming hedge of spiraea
prevented anyone from seeing where Luke waited.

"It's
been so long," she said, hearing the breath-lessness in her own voice.

"I'm
glad you sent the note." He glanced down the lane. "We probably
shouldn't stay here."

"Let's
go somewhere, then," she suggested, even though her suggestion was a risky
idea. She really didn't worry about her parents waking and checking on her;
they never did any more. But someone might see them together.

"All
right." He appeared to think for a moment. "Stand up."

Willing to take the risk,
she did.

He
pushed her chair into the spiraea bushes where it couldn't be seen. "You
up to a ride?"

She
glanced at the horse. "You brought Wrangler."

"He
wanted to see you."

Annie laughed softly. "Yes, I'm up to
it."

He moved the animal closer
to where an abandoned cart sat at the comer of the neighbor's property. June
flowers bloomed in the back. Luke dipped to sweep her up and carry her to the
cart, where he placed her on the top of the wheel and held her hand for
balance. "Can you reach his back from there?"