Where was that coming from? He almost looked as if he actually cared for her. Too bad it wasn’t true.
“Yes, I know they will. After all, they’ve been so helpful to me ever since I came to live with you.” But would they want to if they knew it was just a sham marriage? Her heart lurched within her chest, fearing she would never know love again. She hoped her son’s love would be enough to last a lifetime.
“Franklin... ” Mrs. Oleson’s brows drew together as if she were entertaining deep thoughts. “I’m not sure why you’re waiting until September to get married. It’s not unusual for a man or woman who has been widowed to marry quickly. Besides, it’s been plenty long since Mike’s death. Why wait?”
Deep red seeped up from Franklin’s collar, almost reaching his strong chin. Lorinda wondered why. Did he feel as flustered as she did?
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought...women needed time to plan...all those things a woman does for her wedding. Miriam did–” He stopped speaking, and his Adam’s apple bobbed convulsively.
Who is Miriam? Lorinda had never heard anyone mention her before. She didn’t know if she should ask or not. The air in the room filled with tension, and she didn’t know why.
Mrs. Oleson shook her head, surprise gleaming from her eyes. “This is a totally different situation.”
Franklin shoved his hands into the back pockets of his denim trousers. “You’re right. We don’t really have to wait. Maybe getting married soon would be much better.”
“What do you think, Lorinda?” Mrs. Oleson rose and stood beside her. “We could put together a nice wedding in a week or two.”
A week or two? Suddenly, that was far too soon. The muscles in her stomach tightened, and the meal she had eaten began to jump around as if it might try to escape. She crossed her arms over her abdomen, trying to settle everything. Lorinda could not disagree without having to tell her friend why.
“We could get married in July.” She didn’t know where that idea came from. “I would like to do that.” This time her voice sounded more forceful.
Franklin glanced toward the calendar on the wall. Lorinda wondered if he was looking at the portrait of the pretty woman at the top or at the months below. What a silly thing to think about when my life is hanging in the balance.
“You should have the ceremony after the church service on a Sunday. That way anyone who wants to can stay for the festivities, and they wouldn’t need to make another trip into town for the wedding.” Mrs. Oleson gave a satisfied smile. “People are very busy in the summer...with their cattle and crops and all.”
Franklin tapped his finger on the months lined up below the picture, stopping on July. “There are five Sundays in July. Should we have the wedding on the 8th or 15th?”
Lorinda shrugged. Everything was moving too fast. Even the 22nd seemed far too soon. But if the wedding was going to happen, they might as well go ahead and have it as soon as possible. The dreading, or the anticipation, would then be over, and life could return to normal...or as normal as it would ever be again. Whatever that would look like after the wedding.
“Let’s do it on the 15th. That’s plenty of time to put together a really nice wedding.” Mrs. Oleson started gathering the dishes from the table. “Who knows. Maybe you’ll have a little brother or sister for Michael before long.”
Red rushed up under Franklin’s tan all the way to his hairline. At the same time, Lorinda felt the heat build in her own cheeks. A little brother or sister? Not even a possibility.
Franklin was amazed at the way Mrs. Oleson gathered all the women together and started planning the wedding. Every time he came home, someone else was in the parlor with Lorinda and Mrs. Oleson. Today was no exception.
“We really need to decide on what you will wear, Dear.” His housekeeper patted his intended bride on her knee.
Lorinda hadn’t seemed like herself since Tuesday when she finally agreed to become his wife. He could tell something was wrong. He wished he knew what. Like any man, he’d do anything he could to make her comfortable and happy. He wasn’t used to this feeling of helplessness that consumed him whenever he entered his own home.
“Can you tell us what your favorite color is, Lorinda?” Pastor Nelson’s wife, Mary, smiled at his intended.
He knew he was an intruder, sitting there on the porch listening to the conversation inside, glad he had a good line of sight to what was happening. He wanted to see if he could find out what was affecting Lorinda. Maybe in the conversation between the women, she’d let a hint slip out. He just didn’t know how to go about it any other way.
“I like lots of colors.” Lorinda’s voice didn’t carry quite as well as the others. He had to strain to hear her. “Maybe I should wear blue.”
He could picture her in a soft blue dress that would match the color of her eyes, with her blonde curls shining in the sunlight. She was a real beauty. At first after she came to stay with them, she kept that hidden. But as she felt more comfortable, she relaxed and revealed her inner and her outer beauty.
“I’m so glad the Fuller sisters came to town last year to open their side-by-side businesses. Millie is such a good seamstress.” Mary Nelson took a handkerchief from her handbag and dabbed at the moisture on her forehead. July was really hot this year. “I heard she received a new shipment of watered silk last week. Perhaps we should take you into town, Lorinda, so you could pick out what fabric you like from her stock.”
“Oh, I couldn’t do that.”
Mrs. Oleson nodded emphatically. “Of course, you can.”
Maybe that’s what was bothering Lorinda. She didn’t have enough money to pay for her trousseau. Franklin stood and ambled toward the front door, making plenty of noise so the women would know he was coming.
The voices stilled as he opened the front screen door and let it fall shut behind him.
He stopped in the doorway to the parlor. “Mrs. Oleson, could I have a word with you in my study?”
“Of course.” She quickly arose and followed him.
The two women left in the parlor started talking softly, but he couldn’t understand a word they said.
“What can I do for you, Franklin?” His housekeeper waited for him to speak.
“I have to make a confession. I was on the porch and heard some of your conversation.”
Her eyebrows rose before she gave a slight nod.
“I want to give you enough money to pay for Lorinda’s dress...and maybe one of those hats the women like to wear. But I’m not sure I want my bride in one as elaborate as some of the women wear to church.”
She chuckled. “I’m sure you don’t. I know Flora could make a very becoming bonnet that won’t overpower Lorinda’s beauty.”
He joined her laughter. “Wouldn’t want that. Now how much do you think you need? And be generous about it.”
“I don’t want you to do this.”
Mrs. Oleson had never countermanded any of the things he asked before.
“Why not? Lorinda deserves a lovely wedding day.”
“Of course, she does.” His longtime friend rubbed her hands down her skirt, as if her palms were perspiring.
He’d never seen her do that before. Something must be bothering her as well.
“Lorinda feels like the daughter I never had, Franklin. I want to buy her dress and hat. It will give me great pleasure to make her lovely for your wedding.” A smile spread across her face, lighting up the room.
“I can understand that. I’ll give you that privilege.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “We’ll want you to fill a void in Michael’s life...as his grandmother.”
Tears glistened in her eyes. “I will love that. He already feels like my grandchild.”
Franklin watched her walk back toward the parlor, and an idea slipped into his mind. Mrs. Oleson was going to outfit Lorinda for the wedding, but he wanted to have a part in the wedding, too. Tomorrow, he would go into town and visit all three jewelry stores. He wanted something special to
give her, besides his mother’s pearls.
Excitement and anticipation filled him. More than anything had since Miriam had broken his heart. Funny how he could think about his old fiancée’s name now without the deep hurt crashing through him.
When had his pain started to ease?
Chapter 14
July 15, 1894
Lorinda lay in bed waiting for her infant son to awaken. She loved watching everything he did, even sleep. The way his long eyelashes fanned across his cheeks. His tiny hands were a marvel to her, every detail etched by the hand of God. His mouth worked as if he were nursing, but still he slept. His every breath felt like the beat of her heart, because he was now the love of her life. Her son needed a father, someone to teach him how to be a man. If Mike had come home, he would do that, and he would love her at the same time.
Now Franklin would be the man, but she would not be included in the love between her son and the man she would wed today. At least, she and Michael would have their own loving connection. Her stomach twisted and turned with that thought, but her future was already planned, whether she wanted it or not.
Today is my wedding day.
When Mike rescued her from her abusive father in the dark of the night and whisked her to the home of the preacher in the next small town in Missouri, she didn’t really know what a wedding was. She knew most of the people in their small town were married, but she’d never been to, or even heard of, a wedding.
Mike told her he wanted to marry her before they spent their first night together. They caught the preacher just before he was going to bed. He quickly read words from a small black book and asked the required questions. “To have and to hold...to love and to cherish...” She didn’t know what that meant. Her mother had loved her until she died, but since then... Lorinda didn’t even want to think about the horrible things her father and uncle did to her.
Lorinda wasn’t even sure what all the preacher had said. But when he pronounced them “man and wife,” Mike had kissed her in a deeper way than ever before, and her body and lips responded to him. For the first time, she had a glimpse of love she’d never known. Later that night, he “made her a woman,” as he said. She hadn’t known what to expect, and though in the beginning she felt pain, the ending was wonderful.
Now she was finally having a normal wedding. This time, with all the correct pageantry she’d never heard about in that preacher’s small parlor with only one candle burning and his wife as witness in her nightgown and robe. But the new marriage would be a farce. Emptiness gnawed at her stomach and her heart at the bleak prospect.
The last two weeks, Ingrid, Stella Morgan, and Mary Nelson had helped gather and create clothing they called her trousseau–even silky and lacy unmentionables–chemises, drawers, night dresses, a robe, and a corset. She had never seen anything like them, and no one would ever know she wore them, so why bother? Of course, the women didn’t know the circumstances of the relationship.
One of the books Mrs. Oleson had shared with her was The Scarlet Letter. She wanted to blurt out that they should embroider a scarlet letter on the unmentionables, because she would be living a lie. But she held her tongue to protect Franklin from gossip. Her feelings, and his lack of them, really couldn’t matter.
After her first wedding, Mike had kept her warm, inside and out. She knew these new clothes and the sturdy roof over her head Franklin had offered would protect her from the Colorado cold, but they wouldn’t do anything for her heart. Tears slowly trickled down her cheeks before she swiped them away.
While Franklin mucked out the stalls, his thoughts drifted to the day ahead. He had chosen to go along with the wedding hoping to make Lorinda happy, but over the last two weeks, she had become more and more distant. When he asked her what was wrong, she always answered, “Nothing.”
He should have learned from the mess with Miriam that he did not understand women at all. He couldn’t imagine any woman not being excited about all the clothes and doodads Mrs. Oleson and the other women created for her.
Lorinda was a very beautiful woman who didn’t need doodads. For all the time he’d known her, he hadn’t let himself think about that. Even though he wasn’t going to allow himself to become emotionally involved with her, his body reacted to the picture in his mind. His sweaty palms almost slid off the pitchfork.
The barn door opened.
“Hey, Boss.” Rusty stalked across the dirt floor. “What’re you doin’ out here on your wedding day?”
“Mrs. Oleson doesn’t want me to come into the house before they leave for town.”
“Why ever not?” His ranch hand took off his hat and scratched his scalp before settling it on his head once again.
“Something about it being bad luck to see the bride before the wedding or some such female nonsense.” He heaved the last pitchfork of sodden hay into the wheelbarrow.
“Won’t we be sittin’ together in church?” Rusty stuck his thumbs into his front trouser pockets. “Everyone on the ranch always does.”
Franklin hung the pitchfork on the hook by the other tools. “I believe Mrs. Su—Lorinda and Mrs. Oleson will be in one of the adjoining Sunday School rooms, listening to the service from there.”
Rusty huffed out a deep breath. “That’s some crazy idea.”
“You know women. It’s best to go along with their plans.” Franklin chuckled. “At least, I’m going to in this instance.”
“So I guess they’re taking the buggy, and we’ll ride in later?”
Apprehension twisted Franklin’s gut. Bad idea. “I really don’t like the idea of them driving to town without an escort. We haven’t caught that arsonist...or Mike Sullivan’s murderer. Maybe you and a couple of the other hands can ride with them. Pick out whoever you want to ride with you.”
“Whatever you say, Boss.”
That was twice Rusty had called him Boss without him saying anything, but he had too much on his mind to make a fuss about it. “Would you please go up to the house and ask Mrs. Oleson if I could come to the back door and talk to her?”
“Sure.” Rusty headed out and returned before Franklin had a chance to start a new chore. “She says it’s safe if you’ll come right now.”
Franklin headed to the mudroom and quickly used the iron boot scraper to remove the gunk from the bottom of his boots. He stepped into the kitchen and found Mrs. Oleson slicing bread while she hummed a happy tune.
She turned toward him. “What can I do for you?”
“I’ve been thinking about something.” He took off his Stetson and hung it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “Would it be bad to give Lorinda something that I had planned to give Miriam?”
She stared at him a moment. “What?”
“Well, I have my mother’s pearl necklace and eardrops. My dad gave them to her on their wedding day.”
A grin spread across her face. “That would be wonderful. Since you never really gave them to Miriam, and you wanted your wife to have them, it would be most appropriate.”
“They’re in my bedroom. Will it be all right for me to go get them? You can give them to her to wear in the wedding.” He had never felt so awkward in his whole adult life. Like a little boy that didn’t know what was expected of him… Maybe because he didn’t.
“Go right ahead. Lorinda won’t be coming out of her room for quite a while.”
He headed down the hallway wondering how she could know that. Before he reached his room, he heard soft splashing and humming, and an enticing flowery fragrance teased his nostrils. Lorinda is taking a bath! His stomach quivered, and he took a deep breath, trying to settle his nerves. Try as he might, he couldn’t keep pictures that hinted at what she might look like in the copper bathtub from flitting across his thoughts. This was not supposed to happen. All he wanted was an heir, not a woman invading his mind. After grabbing the velvet box that held the pearls, he hurried to the kitchen as if the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels.
“Here they are.” With a thunk,
he dropped the case on the table without looking at Mrs. Oleson.
Just before he went through the door, he turned back. “I’m leaving a couple of the hands to ride along with the buggy into town.”
He was out the door and halfway across the back yard before he slowed down. He needed to stay in the barn and pray until the women left. Maybe then he could control his base instincts. Why hadn’t he even considered this kind of repercussion? He could not let his thoughts of Lorinda get out of hand. He would never, ever give his heart to another woman.
Dressed in a dark blue summer frock with tiny white flowers scattered across it, Lorinda sat beside Mrs. Oleson in the buggy. Rusty was in the driver’s seat, and he kept his face forward, giving them privacy. He had tied his horse to the back of the buggy and two of the other ranch hands rode on either side of his steed. For some reason, this added to Lorinda’s feeling of being protected since she’d been taken into Franklin’s home. If only she could convince her stomach everything was all right. She had barely forced down a few bites of scrambled eggs and biscuits before they left the ranch house.
A whole flock of flying barn swallows were building themselves a home in her innards, creating a feeling she’d never experienced before. Although the sun shone with a cheery brightness, and a soft breeze caressed her face, all she could do was think about what was to come. Could she really go through with the ceremony? Of course, she knew she wouldn’t embarrass Franklin by backing out. Her doom was sealed, and it would be wrapped up in fancy, colorful clothing that should make any woman happy. But she felt as out of place in the sham marriage as she did in the fancy unmentionables.
Rusty stopped the buggy outside the parsonage, then helped both her and Mrs. Oleson down to the boardwalk that led from the front door to the church on the next lot.
A Heart's Gift Page 11
