by Mills, DiAnn
She’d rather plow her land without a horse.
❧
Gabe twiddled his thumbs while he awaited Lena’s return. He felt certain his heart would leap from his chest. What a fool he’d been to think he might belong here. Would she simply order him off her farm or tell him sweetly to take his fancy words and books back to Philadelphia? Not that he considered either request in poor taste. All his life he’d been labeled a failure, and circumstances were not about to change overnight. Learning new things and fitting into a family would take weeks, even months. Today, he’d ruined every opportune second he’d been given.
What now? Lord, I wanted this to work. I could have learned how to farm and help Lena with those boys. I know she’s not what I envisioned, but I don’t think I’m what she expected either. I could have put my despicable past behind me and found confidence in being a husband and father. Oh, I know my confidence is in You, but is it a sin to desire a loving family?
Turnip growled. Another member of the family against him. “You want to send me back on the next train too?” he whispered. He stared at the dog, trying to initiate some semblance of friendship with the mongrel.
The dog turned its mammoth head as though attempting to understand the man creature before him.
“We could have pleasant times together,” Gabe continued, momentarily shoving aside his current disturbing situation with the members of this household. “Why don’t you sniff at me a bit? I need a faithful companion.”
Turnip focused his attention on the fire. Perhaps he contemplated Gabe’s dismal mood. At least the dog wasn’t growling.
“Gabe?” Lena asked quietly, interrupting his thoughts. “Would you like another cup of coffee while we talk?” She wrung her hands and offered a shaky smile.
“I’d like that very much.”
“With milk?”
“I believe milk is just fine.”
She felt her insides flutter while she poured the hot brew into a tin cup. “I guess we have much to talk about.”
Gabe raised his hand. “Lena, I know I’ve failed miserably today, and I surely understand your aversion to me. I’m riddled with compunction. Let me simplify the matter. I’ll leave in the morning, but I need to trouble you for a ride into Archerville.”
“What is compunction?”
“It means I feel guilty and ashamed for building up your hopes, then disappointing you.”
She inhaled sharply. “No. . .I’d rather you stay. . .and we follow through with our original plan.”
“To marry? After I deceived you?”
She handed the coffee to him and slipped into the chair beside him. “I’m sure I have disappointed you.”
Only that you are lovely. “You are exactly what God intended for me. God does not issue unfitting gifts.”
His reply must have moved her, for her eyes moistened. “What sweet words. I must admit I had my doubts until you read from the Bible, but now I am sure we should marry as God put into both of our hearts—unless you have changed your mind.”
He leaned forward in the rocking chair. “No, Ma’am. I came here to marry and help you, and that is what I still need to do.”
She stared into the fire, and he turned his attention to the flames devouring a cow chip. Silence invaded the empty space between them.
“The preacher is expecting us day after tomorrow,” Lena said quietly.
“I’ll be ready.”
Silence once again reigned around them.
“Caleb and Simon want to know what to call you,” she finally said.
Gabe had pondered this ever since he boarded the train in Philadelphia. “I believe for now, I’d like them to call me Gabe. When and if they ever feel comfortable, they can call me something more endearing.”
“Like Pa or Papa,” she finished for him.
He smiled. “Yes. Our arrangement is not unusual, but I want Caleb and Simon to feel some sort of affection before choosing a fatherly title.”
Again, Lena appeared moved as she brushed a tear from each cheek. “I’m pleased, Gabe.”
He felt his heart lifting from his chest. “Now, I must seal our relationship properly.” He slid to the front of the rocker and dropped to one knee in front of her. The effort caused him to take a deep breath. “Lena Walker, would you do me the honor of accepting my proposal of marriage? I promise to cherish you for as long as I live and to always consider Caleb and Simon as my sons.” His heart softened as tears flowed more freely from her eyes. He prayed they were not shed in sadness, but in hope for a blessed future together. “I have much to learn, and I will always do my best.”
Lena bit into her lower lip and smiled. “Yes, I will marry you.”
five
Gabe slowly moved toward the barn, or rather the dugout, dreading the night before him. The thought gave a whole new perspective on cave dwellers. He carried a kerosene lantern in one hand and two quilts in the other, but the darkness didn’t bother him, just the smell permeating the air.
“Why don’t you let me make a pallet by the fire?” Lena had suggested just before he stepped out into the night. “I hate for you to sleep in the barn. The odor gags me, and I’m used to it.”
“No. It simply wouldn’t be appropriate. I refuse to cast any doubt upon your name. The barn will suit me until we’re married.”
Glancing up at a clear, star-studded night, he shoved away the unpleasantness of the sleeping arrangements by focusing on the various star formations. As a child, he’d studied them while he waited for his mother to come home. Usually he fell asleep before she stumbled in.
“Gabe,” Lena called.
He turned to see her slight frame silhouetted in the doorway. The fire behind her filled his senses with a picturesque scene. An unexpected exhilaration raced up his spine. This woman would soon be his wife, and she’d been given the opportunity to negate the agreement. Maybe not all lovely women were the same. Maybe he’d been given another chance to make his life amount to something worthwhile.
“Gabe?” she called again. “No one will ever know you slept by the fire.”
“I’ll know,” he replied, then waved. “Good night, Lena. Tomorrow I’ll help the boys clean out the barn.”
He whirled around, feeling a bit giddy. For one night, he could endure most anything. Then the smell violated his nostrils like a hot furnace. What manner of insects crawled in the hay? Would the animals bother him? It would be a long night.
❧
“All right, boys,” Gabe said the following morning at breakfast. “We have a full day of work ahead of us, but I understand you have milk to deliver first.”
“Yes, Sir,” Caleb replied, reaching for a piece of cornbread.
“We share our milk with Mr. Shafer and his six children,” Lena added. “He doesn’t own a cow, and I promised his wife before she died that I would keep an eye on the children.”
How commendable. “All right,” Gabe said, turning back to the boys. “I’ll go with you if your mother doesn’t mind.”
He glanced at Lena, whose pallor had turned ghastly white. “You might not want to go to the Shafers. Dagget is not the sociable type.”
“Mama threw him off our land ’cause he got mad when she wouldn’t marry him,” Simon said. “He don’t like us much, but the others are friendly.”
“Simon,” she uttered, her face reflecting the humiliation she must have felt. “Son, can’t you ever leave well enough alone?” She stared into Gabe’s face. “I feel sorry for his children since their mother died. The oldest girl, Amanda, has her hands full taking care of her brothers and sisters and dealing with her father. Caleb and Simon take the extra milk, but I don’t ride along, and I don’t think you would want to either.”
Gabe had seen the surly type before; he’d go another day. “I’ll take your advice and get started on the barn while they’re gone.”
Lena sighed. “I’ll help until they get back. It’s a nasty job.” She gave the boys a stern look. “And it will never get this dir
ty again. Right, boys?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” they chorused.
Gabe hadn’t slept a wink last night, but he’d never admit it. Every time he moved, the broken ends of what little fresh hay he’d found jabbed his body like tiny needles. Before daybreak he’d nearly jumped through the roof when a rooster crowed his morning call right beside him. Then he’d discovered some sort of bites all over him. He didn’t want to think what might have caused them. Although the manure smell curdled his stomach, the unaccustomed sounds of the animals—both inside and out—had also kept him awake. He’d have to ask the boys about the birds and animals in the area and how to recognize their calls. The possibility that the animals were predators flashed as a warning across his mind, not that he believed himself a fearful man, merely cautious.
In the morning light, he’d seen the structure housing the animals not only needed repairs but also existed in an overall sad state of disarray. How did they locate anything without designated areas set aside for tools, feed, harnesses, and such? This project would take more than one day, but he wouldn’t be working on it tomorrow. That was his wedding day.
He glanced down at his newly purchased working clothes, thinking he should have obtained another set in Philadelphia. By tonight he’d be emitting the same stench as those animal droppings. With a shrug, Gabe headed outside, eager to begin his first day as a Nebraska farmer.
❧
Lena took extra pains to prepare a hearty meal the morning of her and Gabe’s wedding day. She hadn’t slept the night before due to the anxiety about the day swirling around in her head.
“I don’t believe I’ve had such a delectable breakfast,” Gabe said.
His clothes were wet. Surely he had not tried to wash them last night.
“Lena, your cooking certainly pleases the palate. Thank you. I apologize for not complimenting you sooner.”
Simon eyed Gabe curiously. “How can a pallet please you? I’d rather sleep in my bed.”
Lena turned her head to keep from laughing.
“Palate, p-a-l-a-t-e,” Gabe said slowly, giving the boy his utmost attention. “It means your mother’s food tastes good. A pallet on the floor is p-a-l-l-e-t. It’s a common mistake, because the words sound the same but are spelled differently.”
Simon shook his head. “Sure can stir up strange things in a person’s head. Whoever came up with words should have thought about what he was doing.”
Gabe smiled. “I believe you have a valid point.” He turned to Lena. “Caleb said he and Simon haven’t attended school since last spring.” He scooped a forkful of eggs and bacon into his mouth, then bit into a hot piece of cornbread oozing with butter.
“The schoolteacher quit after the spring session, and Archer-ville hasn’t been able to find another,” Lena replied. “I try to teach them reading, writing, and some arithmetic, but they really need someone more educated than I. I know we were lucky to have a teacher when other farms farther out have nothing.”
He reached for his mug of coffee. “I’d be honored to assist in Caleb and Simon’s fundamental studies.”
Lena recalled Gabe had been too tired to eat supper the night before after working all day in the barn. He’d barely made it through the Scripture reading before heading to bed. How would he find time to teach the boys?
“You’re welcome to do whatever you can,” she said.
“Perhaps in the evenings after our meal and before Scripture reading.”
“Are you sure that won’t be too much trouble?” Lena asked. “I’m thinking with you here, I should have more time to devote to their book learning.”
Gabe rested his fork across his plate. “Their schooling is as important as food and shelter. I’ll not neglect their education. The future of this country belongs to those who aspire to higher learning. How rewarding to someday see Caleb and Simon attending a fine university.”
I’d never considered them going to college. Gabe is good for them. Thank You, Lord.
An hour later, alone in the house while the boys delivered milk and Gabe prepared for the ride into Archerville, Lena pondered the day ahead, her wedding day. She wiggled her fingers into a pair of ivory-colored gloves. At least they would hide her work-worn hands. She stared at her left hand and remembered not so long ago when her ring finger was encircled by a wedding band. Only when Gabe had informed her of his arrival date in Archerville had she removed it.
Mixed emotions still battled within her. Today she planned to marry a man she did not know or love. At least she knew James before they wed. A lacing of fear caused her to tremble. Although she believed God’s hand was in this marriage, she still felt like a scared rabbit.
Smoothing her Sunday, cornflower blue dress, she examined her appearance in the small mirror above her dresser. She pulled on a few wispy curls around her face, then pinched her cheeks. Inside her pocket, she’d already placed a few mint leaves to chew before the ceremony so her breath would be sweet for her wedding kiss.
A slow blush crept up her neck and face, and a chill caused her to massage her arms. She felt sordid, as though remarrying meant she no longer valued her vows to James. But that wasn’t true. He would have wanted her to remarry a good man. James had been so handsome—tall, darkly tanned, muscular, and he always made her laugh. An image of Gabe flashed across her mind: his fleshy stature, the wiry straw-colored hair, and his pale skin. How could she ever learn to love and respect him? He knew nothing about living on a farm, and she questioned if he knew anything about marriage.
Yesterday, with the boys, he’d cleaned out the entire barn and organized tools and equipment, which hadn’t been done since before James’s illness and not ever to the extent of Gabe’s high standards. He’d planned on Friday, the day after their wedding, to build another milk stool and make roof repairs to the barn. The stool would have to wait, since lumber was too dear. Gabe had looked happy, satisfied with what he’d accomplished. She felt relieved about this part of him. Goodness knows what she’d have done if he’d been a lazy sort.
“We want to call Mr. Hunters, Gabe,” Caleb had announced. “I’m not so sure he knows how to be a father. Why, Mama, I had to tell him what some of the tools were used for.”
Oh, Lord, I know You are in this. Help me to be a good wife and not compare Gabe to James. Hold onto my tongue and help me to be sweet-tempered.
Lena heard the door to the soddy open. “Mama,” Caleb called. “It’s time to go.”
six
“Kindly take the bride’s right hand,” the Reverend Jason Mercer instructed. He towered over Gabe as he cleared his throat and continued with the wedding ceremony. “Repeat after me.”
Although he shook with thoughts of the future, Gabe repeated the vows word for word. “I, Gabriel Hunters, take thee, Lena Walker, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.” Nervousness tore at his whole heart and mind—to say nothing for what it was doing to his body. He stared into Lena’s incredible green eyes and saw the same trepidation.
Poor lady, she’d said little on the ride here, and now her hand trembled like a fall leaf shaking loose from a mighty tree. How arduous this must be for her.
Standing alone in the church except for his soon-to-be family, the reverend, and a friend of Lena’s, Nettie Franklin, Gabe appreciated that no one else gawked at them. He desperately needed solace.
“Repeat after me, Lena,” the reverend said.
“I, Lena Walker, take thee, Gabriel Hunters, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.” Her voice quivered. Gabe held her hand firmly, understanding her fears for the day and tomorrow because he had just as many if not
more. Only God could ease their uncertainty.
“Do you have a token of love?” Reverend Mercer asked.
“Yes, Sir,” Gabe replied in a voice not his own. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his mother’s ring, a striking red ruby set in gold, not gaudy but dainty and elegant. It had been the only thing he’d kept of her possessions, because it once belonged to his great-grandmother.
As they joined their right hands, Gabe held his breath until he slipped the heirloom onto her left ring finger. Thank You, Lord, for allowing Mother’s ring to fit. She’d left him something of value after all.
Behind Lena, Caleb and Simon stood solemn. No doubt Caleb, acting on behalf of the family, had misgivings about Gabe’s qualifications as a provider. These first two days had been such a disappointment, and Gabe had to ask the boys about everything. He looked like a simpleton.
The two youngsters stared at him in a mixture of disbelief and confusion. From the looks of them—thick, mottled brown hair and wide, dark eyes—Lena’s deceased husband must have been a dandy. Now, she had a man who held the same shape as a pot-bellied stove—painted white.
“By the power vested in me, I pronounce you Man and Wife. What God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.” The kindly young reverend paused and smiled. “You may now kiss your bride.”
I’ve never kissed a woman before. How am I supposed to do this? Should I have rehearsed or found a book?
Gabe stepped closer, his bulging midsection brushing against Lena’s waist. He lightly grasped her thin shoulders and bent ever so slightly. She quivered with his touch, and he prayed it was not from aversion. Her lovely features settled on him in a most pleasing manner, reminding him of an angel depicted in a stain-glassed window at his church in Philadelphia. To him, Lena had given beauty its name. Maybe God had given him a woman he could trust after all.
“Thank you, Lena, for giving this lowly man your hand,” he whispered.
