Montana Wife (Historical)

by Jillian Hart

  Hans’s eyes flashed and he opened his mouth, but then he spotted her. Perhaps deciding against whatever it was he wanted to say, he ran. The door slammed so hard, the windows rattled in their panes.

  Daniel rose, pain etched on his chiseled features.

  “Daniel, I’m sorry. He should not speak to you like that. I’ll—”

  “No.” He caught her by the wrist. His hold was not angry. Nor was his voice as he took the slate from her. “Hans is hurting enough. All he sees is me trying to take his father’s place.”

  “He was h-horrible to you. My son. I don’t know what to say.”

  Daniel supposed she couldn’t understand. On one hand, she was right. The little fellow had behaved badly. But Daniel knew something about being that young with a shattered heart. “You stay in here where it’s warm. I’ll give this to your son.”

  It was an odd thing, feeling her regard for him. It filled him up, so that the wicked north wind had no bite to it. It was as if a part of her soul was his now. Wasn’t it a fine thing, for he wasn’t alone anymore.

  He grabbed Hans, who struggled to climb onto the waiting horse, and deposited him handily onto the gelding’s back behind his brother. Hans rewarded him with a hard glare.

  It’s okay, little guy. You get this hurt out, so it’s good and done with. Daniel buckled the slate into place with the other school things. Then you and I will get along just fine.

  “Daniel?” It was Kirk, who’d pulled down his muffler to speak, and both muffler and boy were already covered with thick snow. “You figure another blizzard is heading this way?”

  “No, the wind’s blowing straight as could be. There’s no mean in it. If it gets worse by afternoon, you boys come over to the rail station.”

  With a nod, Kirk pulled his scarf back over his face. Hans kept right on scowling over his shoulder, Rayna’s little boy, who looked so much like her.

  “Daniel? I’ve got your lunch.” It was Rayna come out on the porch, the affection in her voice the best part. He had someone who cared about him. Who worried if he was cold or hungry or troubled. “I’m sorry—”

  “It’s all right.” He kissed her, and the satin-soft heat brought back the memories of last night. Of loving her. Of the privilege of being loved in return. She probably didn’t know all that it meant to him. “You have a good day.”

  “You, too.”

  With two steps away, the thick gray-white curtain of snow closed around him, stealing her from his sight. But not from his heart.

  He took up the reins of his mare, wiped the snow off the seat and hunkered down into the saddle. Snow beat at him as he joined the boys by the gate, holding it open for them. Hans was still glaring at him.

  One day that would change, too.

  For now, Daniel was content to ride, his bigger horse breaking a trail for the smaller one the boys rode. He was truly happy for the first time in his life. It wasn’t something he was comfortable with. Happiness, and the hope for more of it. Things looked pretty good from where he sat.

  Yep, it sure made a man, even one as skeptical as him, dare to dream—just a bit.

  Rayna knew her stack of work was waiting, for Betsy would be by before noon for pickup, but she lingered at the window. Foolish it was, because the thick snowfall hid all sight of Daniel and the boys. The shadows made her think she saw the flank of a horse.

  No, it was merely shadows. Even if it hadn’t been snowing, she couldn’t have seen them anyway. They were down the driveway and on the main road to town. Even so, she rose and locked the door.

  It was the image of Daniel, kneeling before Hans, that had her staring out into the shroud of tumbling snowflakes. Daniel, who’d let Hans’s cruel words slide right off him. Daniel, with the scars on his back. He’d been Hans’s age. His words came back to her. If I can keep you and your sons from the kind of hardship I’ve known, then I guess that makes my life mean something.

  Rayna sank into the cushions on the window seat. How could a man who’d known such cruelty have such a flawless heart?

  She had no notion how she was going to stop from falling in love with him. Just when she couldn’t take any more feeling, any more risk, he went and made it impossible for her not to care.

  He’d breathed life back into her when it wasn’t what she was ready for. She didn’t know if she would ever be able to risk so much of herself again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Daniel!” Milton Danzig’s bellow sliced through the afternoon’s chill. “Put down the shovel and come in!”

  Daniel wiped the snow out of his eyes, his breath rising in great clouds. What could that be all about? He jammed the shovel into the coal and tried to see the back door, but Danzig had already gone inside.

  Maybe that wasn’t a good sign. Daniel loped through the rail yard, the cars lined up in need of unloading. There looked to be enough work. He wasn’t about to get fired, right? He was the last man hired, and no doubt would be the first to go when the work was caught up.

  Just another couple weeks, he prayed as he stomped coal dust and snow chunks off his boots. A few more paydays and he’d have that November first payment made. And if not… Hell, I can’t think about that.

  Danzig looked up from his desk. “You got someone to see you.”

  There, by the red-hot potbellied stove, sat two boys. Kirk, who hopped to his feet. Hans sat with his head down and face hidden, not moving.

  Daniel was across the room in three strides. Something had to be wrong to take them away from school. “What is it?”

  “Hans is sick.” Kirk lowered his voice. “I asked the teacher if I could take him over to Doc Haskins’s, but the doc’s out on house calls.”

  “Take the little feller home,” Danzig called from the corner. “Go on. I know you’ll work late to make up the lost time.”

  “I appreciate it.” Daniel got down to take a look at the little boy, who was apparently acting as if he wasn’t there. The little tyke did look flushed. His breathing came louder than it should. Daniel stripped off a glove to feel the boy’s brow.

  Hans jerked away, but not quick enough.

  Yep, the boy was burning up. “You did right, Kirk. You head back to school now. I’ll make sure he gets home.”

  “What about the doctor?”

  “I’ll go fetch him. Don’t you worry.”

  It was hard, getting used to a stepfather, Daniel figured. Kirk was nearly grown. It was a good thing he felt a responsibility for his brother.

  When he saw Kirk nod, he understood. Trust took a long time coming, even under the best of circumstances. But it was something Kirk was learning to do.

  Daniel reached for Hans’s mittened hand, to help him stand, but the boy went to his brother instead. The little boy clung to the oldest as they headed outside.

  The wind had a howl to it, and Daniel didn’t like the sound. A whiteout wasn’t far away. Since he had no time to waste, Daniel swung up on his mare, without bothering to saddle her. Then he held out his arms.

  Kirk lifted Hans up, and the little fellow struggled at first, but he was too ill to do much more than make a show of it. Daniel tucked the boy against his chest, beneath his coat to keep him as warm as possible.

  It was a new feeling, as he headed out, nosing the mare toward home, leaning low to urge her to go all-out. There was a new spot of tenderness twinkling to life in his chest. Hans held him so tight.

  You just hold on to me, little one. Daniel felt his responsibilities weighing on him mightily.

  Rayna recognized the bright blue cap, snow-dappled though it was, and the riot of bouncy brown curls. She opened the door. “Hurry, before a gust blows you away!”

  “I hope you don’t mind, I just helped myself to your barn. I didn’t have the heart to leave poor Bernie standing out in this.” Betsy tumbled in with the driven snow. “Oh, whatever you have in your oven smells divine.”

  “Baked beans and a venison roast.” Rayna shut the door with her foot, reaching to help unwrap her fr
iend from layers of wool. “Are you hungry? You arrived just in time.”

  “Oh, I shouldn’t. With this weather, I wanted to try to get done with my route early, but you know I have a weakness for your cooking.”

  “As if you aren’t the better cook!” She shook the ice from Betsy’s pretty coat and hat and hung them near the stove to dry. “The pot of coffee isn’t fresh, but it’s hot.”

  “That sounds heavenly. Hot is all I care about right now.” Betsy helped herself to a cup from the drainer. “Tell me you got Mrs. Mendelson’s mending done. Please?”

  “It’s done. I just have one button to fix. It’s coming loose, and if I leave it, it’ll be something I’m replacing for you next week.”

  “This is such a help!” Betsy brought the pot with her to fill Rayna’s mug on the table. “Let me get a good look at you. You look…content. No, that’s not the right word. Something put the color back in your cheeks. Could it possibly be that fine new husband of yours?”

  “Betsy!” Rayna nearly dropped the bean pot. Had she heard her friend right? “What goes on between a husband and wife in the privacy of their home is none of your concern, Betsy Hunter, but—”

  “Ha! I’m right. You’ve made the marriage official, right?” Betsy reached for the sugar bowl, looking as happy as a cat in a creamery. “As if you weren’t going to tell me anyway. Was I right?”

  “I’m not going to dignify that with a response.” But Rayna was laughing as she searched through the drawer for a ladle.

  “This is the only romance I get, hearing about my girlfriends’ wonderful love lives.”

  Rayna loaded two plates with steaming molasses flavored beans and crisp strips of salt pork. “You were right. Daniel is a wonderful lover. And wanting him that way feels like a weakness.”

  “How can that be? He’s your husband now.”

  “He’s a man deserving of all the love I can give him. But after all these years of being married to a man I loved more than my life and giving birth to our children, my heart is gone. And so holding on to Daniel that way is just…holding on.”

  Ashamed, she laid the plates on the counter. In the long seconds between the ticking of the clock and the snap of the fire and the agony she felt between one breath and the next, she heard Betsy’s chair scrape on the floor as she stood.

  Betsy’s hand landed on her shoulder. Betsy’s voice rich with empathy. “There are many kinds of love. There is certainly no greater love than that of two people working together to protect children. What a special man your Daniel must be, to take on so much responsibility.”

  “You understand.” Rayna twisted the slim gold band on her hand, reminding her of her promise to honor Daniel. Not that she needed reminding. “It feels like a betrayal to Kol.”

  “Not a betrayal. He would want you to find happiness.” It was in Betsy’s eyes, her special understanding. For her marriage had been one of great love, too. “You and I both married our first loves. It’s a rare thing, to have the gift of a love so pure and wonderful and passionate. I wish that this new marriage of yours grows into a love that is rich and rewarding, my dear friend.”

  That is my wish, too. “Have you ever found your heart again?”

  “No. But I have hope.”

  Hope. Was it enough? Maybe it was for now, she thought as she and Betsy placed the food on the table. Bringing fresh butter and thick slices of sourdough bread, Rayna settled across the table from her friend.

  Already Daniel had added to the memories in this room. Of how he’d come the morning after she’d found all the bank notes. How he’d looked through the papers he obviously couldn’t have read, but understood what they meant.

  Surely happier times were ahead for all of them, right?

  “I don’t have the knack for baking that you do. Oh, this bread is delicious.” Betsy, always effusive with her compliments, reached for another slice. “It always surprised me that more men weren’t lining up to marry you. Daniel must be the envy of a lot of men in these parts. Marrying you and getting the best section of wheat land in the county. Of course, we all know you are the greater prize.”

  “Prize? Oh, I think providence was looking out for me in sending Daniel into my life. He’s…wonderful.” One hundred percent. Everything that was good and true. But she couldn’t love him.

  Then why did it feel as if a part of her innermost being missed him? Yearned to be in his arms again? “Oh, I’ve started sewing my squares together.”

  “Oh, your quilt. Let me see!”

  Rayna put aside her spoon and rose to fetch her sewing basket when a shadow outside the window snagged her attention. That was definitely not her imagination! The shadow became a man pounding up the porch steps. Daniel, and in his arms was—

  “Hans?” She had the door unlocked and open before Daniel could knock. He blew in, carrying her son safe against his wide chest. Hans coughed, a horrible rasping sound, and Rayna wiped the snow off his dear face.

  “Ma.” Hans’s eyes filled. Oh, he was so ill. Why hadn’t she noticed this morning? This time when she brushed a kiss to his brow, his skin was overheated.

  Rayna’s knees went weak. “It is your throat, baby?”

  Hans could only nod and reached for her. She lifted him out of Daniel’s strong arms and cradled him against her, the big boy that he was.

  “He’ll be all right.” Daniel said the words as if they were a promise he could keep.

  “Want me to carry him upstairs?” As if he were made of mountain, unshakable and commanding, Daniel stood before her.

  “No, I can do it. Just, please, get the doctor. Get him now.” Rayna leaned her cheek against the top of Hans’s sweaty brow, fighting to keep calm even as the little boy began to quake with chills.

  “I’ll bring him as soon as I can.” His hand settled on the back of her neck, meant to comfort her.

  And, amazingly, she felt the current of his strength filling her. It would be easy to lean on this man. To let herself need more than his comfort. More than his passion in the night. His broad chest was right here for her to lean on.

  All she had to do was take a step forward.

  She took one back, away from all that he offered her. Wishing, just wishing she was naive enough to make a different choice.

  Home. There it was, lit windows blazing bright through the darkness. Daniel shut the barn door good and tight before drawing down his hat to keep the flakes out of his eyes as he trudged through the accumulation of snow. A good six inches had fallen since Kirk had been this way to do the evening chores.

  His home. Where he belonged. Where he was loved, and in the case of Hans, if not even liked, then at least needed. That was, all around, a pretty fine feeling, to know that when he opened that door, his loving wife would welcome him. Just being with her, why that alone was more than enough to make him happy.

  It gave a man a sense of satisfaction, yes it did. Filled up a part of him he didn’t even know was empty. All day he’d been feeling as if a chunk of him was missing. And now, as he broke through the heavy snow toward the back porch, that gnawing pain plaguing him the evening through stopped.

  Hell, he’d never been like this before, all bent up inside from missing her and the boys. He’d been thinking of nothing else but this house and the people in it. Hoping that Hans was feeling better. That Kirk wouldn’t be next to fall ill. Wondering about Rayna. He’d bet money that he would find her up and attending to her little boy, even though it was well past her bedtime.

  Yeah, being with her was what he’d been daydreaming about. What had made him desperate all afternoon and the evening through, just to look upon her lovely face. Just to hear the alto sweetness of her voice. Simply to pull her to his chest and know that he was loved. That he mattered. Him. And not because of what he did for her, but for who he was.

  It was amazing how one event that hadn’t taken five minutes in front of the preacher had changed his life. Suddenly he was a husband, a stepfather and an extensive landowner. All in one f
ell swoop. His chest twisted all up inside. He’d never had so much before.

  He’d never had so much to lose.

  As he hopped up the back steps, there she was, wrapped up in a huge gray shawl, opening the door for him.

  “Come in out of the cold, stranger.” Her welcoming smile made him fall in love with her all over again.

  It was something to see he’d been missed, too. So he swaggered in and shucked off his snow-driven layers. Getting her clean floor all messy. She didn’t seem to notice as she hung his things up to dry, efficient as always.

  “I had the chance to work late making a few deliveries. Teaming pays better, so Saturday’s paycheck ought to give us a little breathing room.” He ignored the growl of his stomach and the half-frozen stiffness of his body. What he couldn’t push aside was the craving for holding her in his arms.

  Love was an odd thing, not the companionable link he’d imagined of two people getting along. It was scary, that’s what it was. To feel his heart stripped bare and his soul exposed.

  But it was awe-inspiring, too. Grateful for this gift, for the chance to be loved, he gathered her against him tenderly, although she had her back to him and was shaking out his muffler. Ice tinkled to the floor and her lean muscles bunched and pulled beneath his hands and he hugged her tight.

  Lilacs. He loved the smell of her, spring flowers and warm woman and home. He’d do anything for her, anything, because of the way she surrendered to him with a strangled moan.

  It was hard for her, too, this unveiling of the self. But feeling her against him, not just body but soul, brought a gratitude so powerful, it made his throat ache and he closed his eyes against the brightness.

  The time between one heartbeat and the next froze, and he treasured it. Kissed the delicate dip of her neck, right behind her ear, and felt. Simply felt love spilling through him. A perfect moment.

  A perfect love.

  Then his heart beat again and Rayna stiffened. She broke away from him as if she’d felt nothing at all. Back straight, shoulders tensed, head up, she grabbed a hot pad and fetched his supper plate from the warmer.