Romancing the Bride

by Melissa Jagears

  She couldn’t help but grin at her friend’s truth dodge, but then, what reason did Leah have to cry? “What’s happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Tell me.”

  Walking past Annie, Leah headed toward the kitchen table. Once there, she pulled out a chair and slowly sat, as if a weight dragged her down.

  Something was wrong. “Can I make you some tea?” Annie moved to look at the tins behind the stove.

  “No, thank you.”

  Annie returned to Leah, who was sitting in a dejected slump, then sat in the chair beside her.

  “My problems are small compared to yours, and I’m ... fine. You just caught me at a bad time.” And all of a sudden, Leah pasted on a happy grin complete with a sparkle in her eye—the expression Annie was used to seeing.

  She wouldn’t let her off that easy. “Come now, I’ve burdened you with plenty. You’re entitled to have people pray for you too.”

  Leah’s smile faltered and she turned to stare out the back window.

  A moment of silence passed. Then two.

  Were things worse than she let on? Annie scooted closer. “I promise, even if it’s only an ache in your back, I want to hear about it.”

  “It’s Bryant.”

  Annie tried not to tense at his name. True, there was no reason to dislike him any more than there was reason to dislike Jacob for losing her ranch. But the way he’d acted on her wedding day and how he still held himself aloof made it hard to regard him highly. “What about him?”

  “I think...” She stood, grabbed a dishcloth, and started to wipe the table despite it being spotless. “All I have are suspicions, and if I’m wrong, he wouldn’t deserve what you’d think of him if I said anything.”

  Annie had never seen Leah like this. “Have you talked to him about what’s bothering you?”

  The kitchen door creaked open and Leah stiffened.

  Bryant walked in and immediately frowned at Annie. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He paused and assessed his wife for a moment before moving toward the sideboard. “I’m working late again. Do we have any bread left?”

  She smiled prettily and nodded, pointing to the towel-covered lump. “Half a loaf.”

  He slid into the pantry and reappeared with a jar of fruit and swept up the bread. “Ladies.” He tipped his head to Annie and gave Leah a wink before heading back out the door.

  Her friend slumped.

  “He didn’t kiss me,” Leah whispered just loud enough for Annie to hear.

  Perhaps he hadn’t because they’d had company, but then, Leah would know whether or not her presence would’ve kept him from kissing her.

  With a sharp inhale, Leah turned to frown at Annie. “This doesn’t go past us.”

  “Of course not.” She shot a glance toward the parlor, but Spencer was quiet and likely asleep in his chair.

  “I think he’s cheating on me.”

  Annie blinked a couple of times. Bryant, unfaithful?

  What could a man want other than Leah? The woman was a few years into her forties, yes, but she was as trim as a twenty-year-old, her few wrinkles caused by smiling. She kept a pristine house and somehow still found time to help others. Plus the woman absolutely doted on Bryant.

  “Why would a man ever cheat on you?” Though she’d not been the best wife to Jacob these past few months, she’d no worries about his faithfulness.

  Leah tried to smile. “Thank you for thinking that, but have you not noticed how distant he’s been lately?”

  She hadn’t, considering she didn’t know him well at all. Jacob had grumbled a time or two about Bryant’s behavior, but she’d assumed Bryant’s dislike of her had been the cause.

  “He only kisses me now when I kiss him first.” Leah continued in a hushed voice, as if she were reciting something she’d repeated over and over in her head. “He’s acting as if he’s being watched. Normally he tells me right away when something’s bothering him, but he’s been acting like this for months.”

  What advice would help? She had no experience with anything like this.

  “I can’t come up with any other reason, if not for a woman.” Leah stopped talking to swallow hard. “I’ve tried to get him to talk, but he’s always too busy or tired. Work, he says. And when I check on him, he really is at work. So maybe I’m just...”

  Annie squeezed her hand. “If he’s been working a lot lately, maybe he’s stressed. Could he take a few days off?”

  “He says McGill won’t let him. But I’m thinking he just doesn’t want to spend time with me.”

  “Or maybe he’s worried about losing his job?”

  “He certainly acts that way, but he hasn’t told me anything that makes me think so.” She shifted in her chair. “I thought to ask him if we could take a holiday to see Jennie. We haven’t visited since her birthday, but if he says no, I’ll wonder if it’s because of me.” She looked up at Annie with heavy-lidded eyes. “You haven’t heard any whisperings about him being with ... someone else?”

  “No. Definitely not. All the whisperings lately have been about me.” She tried to conjure up a self-deprecating smile, but her lips wouldn’t cooperate. “May I share your worries with Jacob? He could encourage Bryant to talk to you about what’s troubling him.”

  Leah shrugged and opened her mouth to say something, but Spencer entered the room.

  “May I borrow this?” He held out a book with a nondescript brown cover.

  Leah’s usual bright smile covered up her frown. “Of course, honey.”

  Spencer sat at the table and started reading.

  Leah quickly wiped at her face as if she could simply erase her worries.

  Annie squeezed Leah’s shoulder. “Can we do anything for you before we leave?”

  Spencer looked up as if to remind her why they’d come, but she cut him off with a shake of her head.

  With a heave of a sigh, Leah wrung her apron. “No, I don’t think so. Though I probably ought to go lie down and pray for a while.” She got up to leave, but swiveled back. “I’m sorry. I forgot to ask how the search for Celia was going.”

  “No need to apologize.” Annie stood. “But I’m afraid it doesn’t look promising.”

  “I’ll pray for her too.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  As Leah disappeared down the hallway, Annie put her arm around Spencer. “How about we go home and I cook us a good supper?”

  His eyes brightened a little, but his frown didn’t disappear. “You mean we aren’t going back out to search for Celia?”

  “No. You’re about to fall asleep on your feet, and I didn’t feed Jacob last night. I probably shouldn’t do that to him two nights in a row.” He’d carried her straight up to bed and had held on to her until her tears were spent and she’d fallen asleep. She hadn’t realized he’d skipped eating until he wolfed down his breakfast.

  Tonight there would be something warm and filling for him to eat.

  And hopefully he’d not be too tired to talk.

  For as much as she hadn’t wanted to worry him with her jumbled up emotions toward him, she didn’t want him believing she was keeping something truly worrisome to herself either, as Leah did Bryant.

  As much as her insides were twisting up over the thought of not searching for Celia, she couldn’t forget that Spencer and Jacob needed her too.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  After extinguishing the kitchen lamp, Annie frowned at the light glowing in the parlor. Hopefully Jacob hadn’t waited up for her. He’d stumbled in an hour after sunset and had eaten as if he’d not tasted food in days. And yet, he hadn’t finished his meal so heavy were his eyelids.

  She’d sent him to bed, insisting she could clean up on her own.

  In the parlor, she found him slumped against the sofa’s arm, his jaw slack, his Bible open on the cushion beside him.

  She picked up the Bible so she could sit, and then ran her thumb over his brow.

  He didn’t even flinc
h. The furrows crisscrossing his forehead refused to be smoothed away.

  “Jacob?” She scooted closer and rubbed his arm, hoping he wasn’t the kind to startle awake or she’d end up getting smacked upside the head. “Jacob?”

  His brow wrinkled even more, and he groaned as he shifted.

  “You’ll feel better in the morning if you don’t sleep on the sofa.”

  He shivered and his eyes opened a crack. “What?”

  “Let’s get you upstairs.”

  “Right, right.” He sat up and shook his head as if trying to awaken his brain. With a jaw-popping yawn, he stood and shuffled toward the stairs.

  With a hand over her heart, she watched him go. As much as she’d wanted to talk with him—to start making up for the times she’d chosen not to—the man had clearly exhausted himself by trying to bring her girl back.

  After extinguishing the parlor lamps, she felt her way toward the stairs and followed his slow footsteps upward. Though she didn’t feel ready for sleep—a problem that would likely plague her until Celia returned—it would be best if she tried. Though if all she ended up doing was praying, that wouldn’t be such a terrible thing either.

  Oh Lord, how will I live if you don’t bring her back? I know I can’t neglect these two to search for her, but trusting you is hard right now. I’m still not sure I agree with how you took Gregory from us, but you did provide for us, with a home and a man who loves us, so help me trust you to do the same for Celia as well.

  She pushed Spencer’s door open and smiled at his slack face illuminated by moonlight. Taking his dangling arm, she tucked it back beside him and kissed his forehead before returning to the hallway.

  The door to Jacob’s room creaked as she stepped through.

  “Anne?” Jacob was seated on his bed, halfway through pulling off his boot.

  She’d expected him to have draped himself over the mattress and fallen straight to sleep. “Yes, it’s me. Did you need something?”

  “Water maybe?”

  “It’s already there.” She pointed to his bedside table though he likely couldn’t see her in the shadows.

  “Thank you.”

  She nodded, though he likely couldn’t see that either. With his nightshirt beside him, it seemed he didn’t plan to sleep in his clothes as he had last night.

  She came over to sit on the bed, and he turned to look at her.

  He didn’t look sleepy now. Was it wrong of her to want to talk to him about something that might keep him awake?

  Though the longer she kept things to herself, the longer he wouldn’t know. “Do you mind if I tell you about something that’s bothering me?”

  A huge yawn overtook him, so he answered with the shake of his head.

  “I figured you might want to do something about it tomorrow.” She picked up the suspenders he’d taken off and rolled them up. “I talked to Leah today.”

  Jacob didn’t respond or move. Had he fallen asleep sitting up?

  But suddenly, he shook himself and started unbuttoning his shirt. “What’s worrying you about her?”

  “She says Bryant’s been acting distant lately and she’s thinking he may have another woman.” She handed Jacob his nightshirt. “I’ve never seen Leah so downhearted. Do you think her suspicions have merit?”

  He tugged the shirt over his head. “Not about another woman, no. At least I’m pretty sure anyway.”

  “But you do think there’s something wrong?”

  “Yes, but...” He stopped pulling off his socks and sat still for a moment. “I’ve only suspicions, somewhat confirmed by the fact he didn’t outright deny them.” He rolled his socks into a ball and threw them toward the door.

  Another day, she’d ask him to stop doing that.

  He put a hand to the back of his neck. “So I think it might be best to keep my suspicions to myself until I talk to Leah.” He dropped his hand to the mattress as if he might topple over if he didn’t. “I hope you don’t mind me waiting to share with you until I know for certain.”

  “Of course not.” She put her head on his shoulder in a sort of hug. His sleeping and peace of mind were more important than her hearing what he only thought he knew.

  His shoulders rose and fell on a yawn. “I know you might not want to hear this, but if I want to keep my job, tomorrow’s the last day I can spend every hour looking for Celia.”

  Though her heart sank, she nodded against the soft cotton of his nightshirt. With how McGill seemed peeved with him lately, she’d already figured it wouldn’t be wise for him to continue much longer.

  This day had to come. If only it hadn’t arrived so soon.

  “I wish I could—”

  “Shhh.” She patted his arm and sat up. “I knew it’d happen.” Thankfully her voice didn’t waver too much. “I understand we can’t stop our lives and ruin our health and finances when she might refuse to come back or run away again if we ever do find her. We have Spencer to think about.”

  He grabbed her hand. “I do intend to look for her every minute I can. After hours, corresponding with other counties—anything I can think of.”

  “As will I. While Spencer’s playing with his friends, I figured I could ride to nearby towns—”

  “Don’t put yourself in any danger.” His handhold tightened. “Don’t go into any saloons or—”

  “I won’t. If anyone points me in that direction, I’ll have you check.” She blinked against the tears creeping up at the thought of her daughter being found in such a place. “I promise.”

  “Good.” Jacob’s body relaxed and he let go of her hand. “Don’t give up, though. I’m not. She’s my girl, too.”

  A tear did fall then. If only Celia had realized that running away would likely ruin her more than any of Jacob’s attempts to rein in her willfulness.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “I’ll let you get some sleep.”

  She pushed herself off the bed and listened to the creak of the mattress as he lay down behind her.

  Thankfully the moonlight was just bright enough she wouldn’t need a lamp.

  She pushed Jacob’s door all the way shut, and as quietly as she could, felt her way back to his dresser, pulled the combs and pins from her hair, and laid them in the porcelain dish she’d brought in earlier. Once finished, she moved to the trunk. She opened the lid, thankful to find her white nightgown illuminated in a partial moonbeam. A minute later, she tried to shrug out of her calico top, but she must have missed a button.

  “What are you doing?” Jacob’s voice sounded gravely, though he couldn’t have been asleep more than a handful of minutes.

  Evidently she’d made more noise than she’d intended. “Getting ready for bed.”

  She didn’t know why she’d whispered other than she didn’t want to keep the poor man up any longer.

  He sat up and seemed to be staring at her trunk. “How’d that get in here?”

  “Don’t worry. Spencer helped me bring it in.” It’d been quite the feat for Jacob and Bryant to lug it upstairs, but she and Spencer hadn’t needed to pick it up, just shove it across the hallway.

  “You had Spencer...?” His voice seemed a bit incredulous.

  “We didn’t strain ourselves, I promise.”

  When the room went quiet, she figured he’d fallen back asleep, so she finished undressing, then padded toward the bed, careful not to stub her toes.

  Jacob was propped up against the headboard, his eyes only halfway shut and his breathing wasn’t the slow rhythm of slumber.

  “Why aren’t you sleeping?” She nestled down into the covers and let a yawn overtake her.

  “I was wondering, uh, what you were doing.”

  “Going to sleep. Like you should be.” He had to be almost delirious with exhaustion. She rolled over and frowned at him, his eyes now completely closed, his arms tightly crossed atop his chest.

  “Do you need me to get you something? Perhaps for pain?” She hadn’t thought to ask him about that earlier.

&n
bsp; “No, but...”

  The room quieted enough she could hear the ticks of the grandfather clock downstairs. Had he finally fallen asleep?

  “Do you...” his voice had turned rough. “Would you mind if I held you until you fell asleep again?”

  If it had been winter, the rush of heat warming her heart would’ve made a fire unnecessary. “Not at all.”

  He slid down and wrapped his arms around her, letting out a deep sigh.

  Gregory had never liked to cuddle when he was ready to sleep, so she wasn’t sure what to do with herself. She stayed as still as she could, hoping she’d not keep Jacob awake any longer.

  But the man’s breathing never slowed. His muscles never relaxed.

  Minutes ticked by. Finally, she let herself scooch around to look at him.

  His eyes were closed, but his mouth turned up a little. “Yes?” he whispered.

  “If you aren’t sleeping, would you mind if I kept talking?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t promise I won’t fall asleep in the middle of a sentence, though.”

  She rolled over farther to put a hand on his chest, hoping she’d be able to feel when he fell asleep. “It’s just, after talking to Leah, I wanted to apologize for how distant I’ve been.”

  He hummed, but said nothing.

  “Yesterday, I realized I’ve been anxious about things that don’t ultimately matter, that all God requires of me is to do whatever will bring Him glory and to trust Him with what I can’t control. And I want you to hold me accountable. All my fretting affects you now, and though I thank you for letting me process things alone when I asked, I’m thinking I’ve made things worse by doing so. I don’t want you to be worried about what’s going on inside my head, wondering if I’m keeping terrible secrets.”

  His breathing was shallow and even.

  “Are you asleep?”

  “No.” His voice barely registered, but he fluttered his eyes open to prove it.

  She swallowed and began playing with the frayed edge of his nightshirt’s collar. “I’ve been struggling with how to live with you when I’m still getting over Gregory. I made a vow on our wedding day to put him behind me, but I keep breaking it.”