Fire and Ice

by Leah Atwood

  Over the course of the last three weeks, Maeve grew fond of Candace. Strangely, considering their circumstance of acquaintance, she could see them becoming friends one day. She was quiet, but when she spoke, it was always meaningful. The more they talked and friendlier they became, Maeve felt guilty for the deception. She’d always believed a lie was a lie whether outright or by not telling pertinent information. In this case, it felt like a lie of omission that no one had told Candace of the original reason for Maeve’s presence.

  One day, hopefully soon, Maeve planned to rectify that, but in the meantime, she was always afraid of slipping with the truth, especially at supper time when everyone fell into more casual conversation. Patrick had made no attempts to speak with her, not even to offer an apology. It took a few days to accept what had happened, but ultimately, she decided that was for the best. The less contact with him the better. Besides, she was grateful in a roundabout way. Sam was the better brother, with whom she felt much more compatible.

  I could easily love him, she thought, not for the first time. She suspected she already did, but she hesitated to call it that. Why was it so hard to let go of her inhibitions and fully accept that she loved him? She shook her head. It’s too early in the morning for such thoughts.

  A small cupboard was on the left side of the small kitchen area. In it was a small stack of stationery she had placed there two days ago when she’d been preparing for the move-in. She walked over to it, opened its door and retrieved a sheet of paper along with a pencil. She was overdue to write her father and give him an update on her new life.

  October 12, 1893

  Dear Pa,

  First, let me apologize for my delay in writing to you. Please know that I am in Weatherton—safe, sound and happy. However, upon my arrival, things did not go as planned, which is why I have waited so long to send you news.

  Patrick Holden did not come to the train to meet me, rather, he sent one of his brothers. More than two weeks passed before I finally met him. In that time, I discovered he was not the man he portrayed himself to be, and I knew that I could not, in good conscience, still marry him. Much to my surprise, I didn’t even have a choice, as when Patrick finally made an appearance, he brought with him a wife!

  I’ve never suffered such humiliation in my life. My stomach was queasy with embarrassment that I had traveled all that way to be passed over so easily. I later learned that Patrick was forced to marry the girl because they’d been caught in a compromising situation. In an odd way, that knowledge lessened the blow to my pride, but that could also be because something wonderful happened.

  All other members of the Holden family are amazing people, but especially Sam. He is Patrick’s brother, twin actually, though they are nothing alike. Sam is gentle, compassionate, patient and hard-working. He is one of the few people I’ve ever met that has a genuine kindness to him for no other reason than being thoughtful. The same day that Patrick returned with a wife, Sam proposed. At first I didn’t think he was serious. Once I realized that he was, I fought saying “yes,” not because I didn’t care for him, but because I did care for him.

  I realize that sounds completely silly. Perhaps it was, but only days before I had promised myself not to make a decision based on emotions, but logic and reasoning. Ever patient, Sam wouldn’t allow me to give in to my emotions. Instead, he presented the case for marriage from a practical point as well. He was most endearing in his efforts—you would like him, Pa.

  Yesterday was the date we’d set for our wedding and we were married in the town’s church. His entire family was there and his ma signed as a witness. My feelings for Sam are strong, unlike anything I’d felt for Patrick, whom I foolishly believed I loved. Please pray for me, that I can accept Sam’s love, and give mine freely in return. I’m ashamed to admit, but after Patrick’s deception, I am still struggling to trust in love.

  My life in the west hasn’t been anything like I expected, but I do believe that it will be far greater than I had ever imagined. I do hope you will be able to visit sometime. The Holden family is not well-off as Patrick had said, so wouldn’t be able to provide for travel, but if the Lord wants you here, then a way shall be found.

  How are the other children? I miss them dearly. Have they resumed their studies since the school break? Has Emily’s arithmetic improved? What does Shane think of his job at the factory? Please give them my love.

  I will be eagerly awaiting word from you. If I haven’t said it enough, thank you for being a kind and understanding father. You and the others are always in my thoughts and prayers.

  Sincerely,

  Your blessed daughter,

  Maeve Holden.

  Finished with the letter, Maeve folded the thin sheet of paper and tucked it inside an envelope. She adjusted the wick of a kerosene lamp and stood from the table. Already, she felt better for having written to her father. Guilt had kept nudging her, but she hadn’t wanted to write until the marriage was final. She was loath to admit how much Patrick’s deception had affected her, but leading up to her and Sam’s wedding day, a small part of her doubted that the wedding would actually occur. No matter how often she reminded herself that Sam was different and despite all Sam’s insistence that he wanted to marry her, she’d struggled to release that doubt.

  She walked to the window and looked outside. Hundreds, thousands, of brilliant stars twinkled overhead. They were so much brighter in the Wyoming than in Chicago. Were the stars she saw now really more vivid or was it an illusion? Were they even the same stars? She knew nothing of astronomy, but she did appreciate the masterpiece the Lord had created.

  Warm arms slipped around her midsection while she was still at the window. Sam’s earthy scent filled her nostrils, and she turned her head a slight degree to see him.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Holden.” The corners of his mouth were raised in a lazy smile, his eyes were still droopy from sleep.

  “Good morning to you as well. Did I wake you?” She’d taken care to be quiet in her movements.

  “No, I’m usually up when it’s still dark. Are you okay? You looked deep in thought.”

  Staring back out the window, she leaned back, giving in to the impulse to be closer to him. “I was just looking at the stars, thinking how much brighter they seem here than back home.”

  “I’ve never been east, but many people have said the same thing.” One of his hands left her stomach so he could run his fingers through her unbraided hair. “Do you have anything planned first thing this morning?”

  “No.” Warmth filled her cheeks. “Your ma said she didn’t want to see me until noon.”

  “Let’s go for a ride. There’s a place I’d like to show you.”

  He sounded so earnest, but her stomach rolled. The mere thought of riding a horse sent her into a panicked state. The large creatures were beautiful, and she respected them, but getting on the back of one and giving it her complete trust was a different story.

  Sam must have sensed her hesitation. “We can walk if you would prefer.”

  A sigh of relief. “I’d like that. Are you hungry? I can make us breakfast before we go.”

  “If we’re walking we should leave now. Is there anything we can take with us and eat there?”

  “There is half a loaf of bread left over and fresh butter. I can pack that and some apples." She was grateful she’d accepted the food Ma Holden had given her yesterday afternoon.

  “That sounds fine. Let’s hurry, or we’ll lose the effect.”

  Her curiosity was sufficiently piqued. She hastily gathered up the food and placed it in a pail. Then she returned to the side of the cabin where their sleeping quarters were. She grabbed a simple wool dress and stepped into it before reaching behind her with nimble fingers to fasten the buttons.

  “Are you ready?” Sam asked, coming to her while holding another lantern.

  “Yes.” She grabbed her shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  Sam took her lantern and extinguished the flame. “
I noticed it was low on kerosene, so I grabbed this one. I’ll refill them both when we return.”

  His attention and thought to everything, even the small details, pleased her and gave her confidence that he’d always see to her needs. “Thank you. Are you going to tell me where we’re going in the dark?”

  “No.” Half his mouth turned into a smile. “But you won’t be disappointed.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  Sam walked to her right, their free hands joined with laced fingers as they strolled. The early morning air was brisk, but Maeve only felt warmth. Between the moon’s light and the lantern, she could decipher the landscape of their path. The best she could tell, they were in one of the pastures that had been empty since she’d arrived.

  About twenty minutes had passed when Sam came to a sudden stop. “This is it.” He released her hand and spread an arm wide.

  “Where are we?” The location didn’t matter as long as she was with Sam, but she was curious why he’d brought her here.

  He took the pail from her hand, bent down to set it on the ground, and patted the earth before standing back up. “There’s not much dew. Let’s sit down and watch the sun rise. Then I’ll tell you.”

  “I should have brought a quilt,” she thought out loud, but when she sat down, she realized the faded grass was drier than she’d expected.

  Sitting beside her, Sam tucked her into the nook of his arm and she rested her head on his chest. Together, they watched the eastern sky. As far as the eye could see was flat land, peppered with an occasional tree and brush. The level landscape lent itself to a spectacular view as the sun peeked above the horizon and began its ascent. Streams of gold shot out from the source of day’s first light and as the sun rose higher, the sky became a myriad of pink, yellow, and orange hues.

  Maeve watched the sunrise as if she’d never seen it before. Truly, she’d never seen it in such a magnificent fashion. Even the times she’d watched it from the porch of the Holden house, it had never reached the glory of this morning. Watching it with a husband she was falling in love with only augmented its beauty.

  Once the sunrise was over, Sam stood and helped her to her feet. He gestured in a sweeping motion to the land all around them. “This is it.” A large grin spanned his lower face.

  Dumbfounded, Maeve looked around, trying to muster enthusiasm for something she didn’t understand, but was obviously important to him. “What is it?”

  “The site of our new home.” Excitement laced his voice, and he came alive with energy.

  “I think our little place is quaint and cozy,” she said, not wanting him to think she was dissatisfied with their current home.

  The intensity in his eyes grew and his pupils darkened. He held both of her hands and looked her square in the eyes. “One day, I will get this ranch back to what it once was. And when I do, I’m going to build you the nicest home anyone in Weatherton has ever seen.”

  “I wouldn’t know what to do with such a grand home.” How nice it would be though, she added silently.

  “Think about it—we could sit on our front porch, right in this spot, every morning and watch the sunrise like we did just now.”

  His enthusiasm was contagious and her breath came quickly as she saw his vision. She pointed to a tree not too far in the distance. “And on warm summer days, we can have picnics under the shade of that cottonwood.”

  “That’s the spirit. It’s going to happen, Maeve, I give you my word.”

  She removed a hand from his and placed it over his heart. “If you say it’s so, then I trust you.”

  That was the moment, years from now, she would look back and know that she did trust him and intrinsically so.

  Chapter 11

  “When do you expect to be done with the roof?” Maeve refilled his cup then returned the percolator pitcher to the stove.

  “Not sure. If my brother were around to help for once, I could have been done by now.” He didn’t mean to be grumpy with Maeve, but he was frustrated.

  “Can’t Lucas or Benjamin help?” Back at the table now, she sat down beside him. Her slim fingers grasped the handle of her own cup and she took a sip.

  “Ma’s adamant that Lucas and Benjamin are not to be on the roof, although I think she is overly cautious. When I was younger than them, I was already helping Pa with everything.”

  “Your Ma has been through a lot—she’s only trying to protect her children.”

  Setting his cup down with more force than required, Sam scowled. “I hope you don’t think our children will be coddled like Ma has the younger children.”

  Maeve flinched with surprise and her shoulders raised. “I hardly think Lucas, Benjamin, and Jeanette are being coddled. The boys work hard around here, and Jeanette is still so young.” She stood and pushed her chair. “And I would hope that when we have children, as their father, you will have compassion and consideration of their safety when assigning their chores.”

  Her bristly reaction was all he needed to know that he’d messed up and took his irritation out on her. Thinking back, he’d been grumpy throughout the entire meal. It was a wonder she’d stayed patient with him for as long as she had. Reaching out, he grabbed her arm before she could walk away. “I’m sorry.”

  Hurt flashed in her eyes. She jerked her arm away. “Sometimes ‘sorry’ isn’t good enough. For a week now, since two days after our wedding, all you’ve done is griped about Patrick. Well, you know what? I’m up to here with it.” She put her hand level with the crown of her head. “You want to restore this place to what it once was? Then stop wasting so much time with negative feelings toward your brother. Nothing you can do will change him—it has to be his own decision. In the meantime, your negative attitude is affecting everyone around you.”

  Knowing she was right bristled his defenses. He knew what he should say, but somewhere between his brain and his bruised pride, a different set of words altogether came out. “If I’m so unpleasant to be around then I will just leave.” Grabbing his hat, he jumped up from the table and stormed out of the little cabin, not bothering to look behind at Maeve’s reaction.

  His outburst only made his mood surlier. He stomped back to the barn to finish the repairs. The ladder was on the opposite side of the barn. After retrieving it, he repositioned it to the place it was needed. He began to climb. One foot remained on the top rung of the ladder. Hunched over, he lifted the other leg, his knee making contact with the barn’s roof. In a crawling position, he moved his other leg up. Breathing deeply, he made his way to the next spot in need of repair. Help would be nice, but there was no one.

  He made the mistake of looking down, and dizziness made his head swirl. Rubbing the bridge of his nose with this thumb and index finger, he sought to bring back his focus. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he hated heights. If he had his way, he’d never be atop another roof again in his life. Because of it, he’d drawn out the task of repairs longer than necessary, by stopping to have his noon meal with Maeve. Some idea that turned out to be.

  Several of the roof planks were rotting, allowing the rain to seep through. Just last week he’d had to toss a batch of moldy hay. They couldn’t afford to waste any, money was too tight, but the horses’ welfare had to take priority. No matter what, Sam wouldn’t compromise their health. Fortunately, the weather had stayed dry the past week, so no more hay would be ruined due to a leaky roof.

  He was about to remove the bad timber when there was movement down below. Looking down, he saw Patrick with his neck craned.

  “You up there, Sam?”

  Wasn’t that obvious? Who else would be on top of the barn roof? He bit his tongue until he knew he could speak without crossness. “Yes, Patrick. What do you want?”

  “Do you have a minute?”

  “I’m kind of in the middle of something,” he answered, exasperation edging into his tone. He was trying so hard to follow what Ma had told him, but it was a difficult process. Patrick was changing, Sam would grant him that, but he
had a long way to go.

  And when Sam had spent the entire morning on a task he could have used Patrick’s help with, well, it didn’t leave him feeling very gracious. Not to mention Patrick was the source of contention between Maeve and him. That wasn’t exactly true. It was his poor attitude brought on by Patrick that had caused the argument, but it still circled back to his brother.

  “Can it wait? I want to talk to you about something.” Patrick walked to the ladder and stepped on the bottom rung.

  “No, it can’t. I’d be willing to bet rain will be coming in the next day or two and we can’t afford to have more leaks.”

  Patrick blew out a breath and began climbing the ladder. “Fine. I’ll help you finish and we’ll talk while we work.”

  “Where were you five hours ago?” Sam muttered under his breath but loudly enough for his brother to hear.

  Standing on the next to the top step, Patrick threw his arms up in the air. “Can you please give me a break? I’m trying here, but it seems the harder I try, the worse of a time you give me.”

  “Really, Patrick?” he asked with eyebrows raised in skepticism. “If you’re making such an effort then why have I been fixing the roof alone all morning?”

  “I didn’t know that’s what you had planned, and I was taking care of other things. Had you asked, I would have helped once I finished what I was doing.”

  Sam paused in his righteous indignation. It was true he hadn’t asked for Patrick’s help, nor told him what he’d intended to do today. Since Patrick had stepped up his efforts and workload, there was a good chance he would have helped if asked. Had his resentment built that much that he couldn’t see the truth in front of him? Who was he to harbor such a grudge? The full weight of his supercilious behavior pressed heavily upon him.

  The disastrous meal with Maeve replayed in his mind and Ma’s words from his wedding day echoed in his memory. Barely a week into it, he’d already allowed Patrick to interfere with his marriage, and he had no one to blame but himself.