by Mills, DiAnn
“Excellent sermon this morning,” Gabe called to him.
The reverend turned and waved enthusiastically. “Thank you. Mighty glad to have you with us. See you next week?”
“We’ll be here,” Gabe assured him.
“Has someone invited you to dinner?” Lena asked the reverend.
Are you not wanting to be alone with me. . .because of Riley?
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “We’d love to have you come next Sunday.”
The reverend smiled and thanked her politely before handing the bashful child back to Amanda Shafer.
Seeming to ignore Gabe and Lena, Caleb and Simon chattered in the wagon, caught up in their own world of trapping animals and teasing each other.
“Are you displeased with me?” Gabe asked softly. He held both reins firmly as had been his instructions.
She gasped. “Oh, no.” Shaking her head, she adjusted her sunbonnet. “I’m so sorry about what happened.”
“You mean the saturated infant I was asked to hold?” He didn’t want to upset her if she truly felt badly about Riley.
Her gaze flew to his, and she blinked back a tear.
Now, I’ve truly upset her.
“Riley O’Connor,” she uttered, as though his name were a curse. “I’m so sorry for the things he said to you.”
“To me? Ma’am, he insulted you.”
She shrugged and stared up at the sky “He insulted both of us, Gabe. I want you to know that I never courted him. Not ever. I wouldn’t allow him near me, which is probably why he was so mean today.”
“You don’t have to explain it to me—”
“But I want to! He asked me to marry him, and I refused. He’s been like that ever since.”
Another thought needled at Gabe. “Should I have challenged him outside? Did you expect me to engage him in a fistfight?”
“Goodness, no. You handled him much better than I could ever have.”
When she sniffed, he yearned to extend consolation to her. “The situation is over and done. Perhaps he won’t trouble you again now that we’re married.”
“I hope not.” She forced a laugh. “I nearly blacked his eyes. Oh, I wanted to, Gabe.”
Gabe laughed heartily. “I saw. I’ll be sure to avoid making you angry.”
And she joined him, laughing until the boys begged to know what was so funny.
eight
Lena rocked gently in front of the fireplace, enjoying its familiar creaking like an old friend. She loved these moments: quiet, peaceful times while she tended to mending. The only sounds around her came from the mantle clock’s steady rhythm and the comfortable rocker. Usually Gabe taught the boys their lessons during this time and then treated them all to a chapter in some magnificent book. Nightly he read from the Scriptures and led in prayer.
Tonight, the men in her family had hurried from supper to make sure the animals were all secure. The temperature outside had dropped considerably during the afternoon, and the wind whistled about their soddy like a demon seeking entrance. Snow clouds hovered over them all day, and she knew without a doubt that the sky planned to dump several inches of snow—possibly several feet—before morning.
Inserting her needle into Caleb’s torn drawers, she worked quickly to patch the knees. He’d most likely need the clothing tonight. Fall had passed with no hint of Indian summer; suddenly the warm days of early September changed to a chilling cold in October and now November. The dropping temperatures alarmed her, and she prayed the winter would be easy. Usually the frigid weather waited to besiege them until at least December, with the coldest days landing in January and February.
Lena paused and stared into the crackling fire. A smile tugged at her lips. This past month as Mrs. Gabriel Hunters had been good and ofttimes humorous. Gabe was indeed a fine husband—maybe not exactly what she wanted or envisioned—but God knew best. Such a tenderhearted, compassionate man, but he had his unique moments. When he decided to complete a task, he refused to give in to the cold, time of day, mealtime, or lack of knowledge. Tenacious, he called it, but she knew better. Gabe had a stubborn streak as clear as she knew her name.
My, how she appreciated having her husband around. Praise God, Gabe hadn’t mentioned the unfortunate incident with Riley again. Riley hadn’t been back to church—for which Lena was grateful, especially given that hearing God’s Word had done nothing to improve the man’s disposition.
The sound of Gabe’s hearty laughter and the giggles of her sons caressed her ears as if she’d been graced by the sweetest music ever sung this side of heaven.
“Mama, we’re ready for a winter storm,” Caleb said, once all three had made their way inside.
“I’m glad,” she called from the rocking chair, smiling at her sons, then meeting a sparkle in Gabe’s merry gaze. He enjoys this work. Seems to thrive on it.
“If you don’t mind, Lena,” he said, “we went over our arithmetic in the barn. So I’d like to work on our reading tonight.”
“A story?” Simon asked. “When we’re all done with our lessons?”
Gabe chuckled. “I imagine so, providing your reading expertise surpasses my expectations.”
Caleb placed his coat on a peg by the door and turned to his younger brother. “That means we do well.”
Simon crinkled his forehead. “I know what it means. I study my vocaberry words.”
“Vocabulary,” Caleb corrected. “The correct pronunciation of the English language is a declaration of our appreciation for education.” He nodded at Gabe as though reciting before a schoolmaster.
Lena stifled a laugh. Caleb, who had not shown much interest in schooling before, had blossomed under Gabe’s instructions. He actually looked forward to his schoolwork.
“I don’t need to know how to say words as proper as you,” Simon said between clenched teeth. “I’m just going to be president of the United States, and you’re going to be a doctor.”
“Both are worthy callings,” Gabe said. “No point in brothers becoming adversaries. Neither profession is above the other or requires less expertise. Education is vital to any man’s vocation.”
“Even a farmer?” Caleb asked.
“Absolutely. A farmer needs to know how and when to till the soil, take care of the animals, how to make repairs, and a host of other necessities too numerous for me to mention.”
Simon shrugged and sighed heavily. “Sounds like I will be tending to my lessons until I’m an old man.”
“Precisely,” Gabe replied and ruffled his hair. “We never stop learning; that’s why God gave us eager minds. Now, gather your slate, so you can inscribe any words for which you do not comprehend the meaning while I read.”
Thank You, Lord, for directing this man to my sons. I’ve never heard such wisdom.
“And what will you be reading this night, providing the boys master their work?” Lena asked, not wanting Gabe to see her enthusiasm at the prospect of another exciting tale.
Gabe thrust his hands behind his back and teetered on his heels. “I think a new book, David Copperfield, by Charles Dickens. I believe the boys will enjoy the tale of a young boy in England and his adventures. There is much to learn about life and England in this novel.”
Lena caught his gaze and a faint shimmer of something she had not felt in years swept through her. Lord, what a blessing if I learn to love this man.
Gabe settled in beside her on a rag rug. He’d begun teaching the boys in this manner, stating they learned more when they shared eye contact. Obviously, he was right.
“Are you weary tonight?” he asked her quietly.
Her heart hammered. Why did Gabe ask her this? “No. Is there something that needs to be done?”
“Only my hair needs to be cut before church tomorrow. It reminds me of straw, and the longer it grows, the more unruly it becomes until I look like an overstuffed scarecrow.”
She calmed her rapid pulse. Oh my. I nearly had a fright. They still remained as fri
ends, with Gabe sleeping in the barn. For a moment, she wondered if he’d decided to claim his rights as her husband. “I’d be glad to. Perhaps I can help you since it wants to go its own way.”
“I’d be much obliging,” he replied. “I’ve never been able to comb my hair so it would lay smoothly.”
Once Caleb and Simon finished their lessons and they all heard the first chapter of David Copperfield, the boys scurried off to bed amidst the rising howl of the wind outside.
“I’ll bring in some more chips from the porch and a few corn cobs for the cookstove,” Gabe said, reaching for his coat. “You know better than I do how much snow may fall, and I want to be prepared.”
“Maybe a few inches, but most likely a few feet.” Lena pressed her lips together. Snow always frightened her, more so than the other threats of nature. James had become ill in this kind of weather, then died of pneumonia. “I can cut your hair when you come back inside.”
A short while later, she pulled a chair beside the fire, where Turnip rested with his face in his paws. Pulling her scissors from her apron pocket and securing a comb from the bedroom, she waited for Gabe to dump an armload of chips near the dog.
Once seated, he shook his head. “Only a miracle or losing all of my hair could help.”
Lena laughed lightly. “I don’t think you will go bald any time soon.” She dragged a comb through his thick hair, all the while pondering its wildness and his wiry eyebrows. “Have you ever tried combing it in the direction it grows?”
“You mean straight up?”
She joined him in another laugh. “Not exactly, but do you mind if I try something?”
“Whatever you can do will be an improvement.”
She touched his shoulders and felt him shudder. For certain, she hadn’t been this close to him since he’d kissed her on their wedding day. “I’ll do my best,” she managed, remembering the shiver she’d felt with his gaze earlier. “Do you mind if I wet it a little?”
“Uh. . .well. . .certainly.”
Odd, he’s never been at a loss for words. Makes me wonder if something is happening between us. Lena shook her head. Of course not, we’ve barely known each other a month.
All the while she dampened Gabe’s hair, she saw chill bumps rise on his neck. “I’m sorry this is cold. I used warm water.”
“You’re. . .you’re fine,” he said.
She glanced at his face—red, too red even for their position in front of the fire. I can’t stop now. What will he think? Swallowing hard, she continued combing his hair, easing the coarse strands in the direction they wanted to go—straight back rather than to the side. The change amazed her. His face looked thinner, and his eyes seemed larger—like huge copper pennies.
“Have you not combed your hair back before? Why, it looks wonderful,” she said. “I can trim it a little, but Gabe, you look positively dashing.”
His face now resembled a summer’s tomato. She hadn’t meant to embarrass him, but he did look. . .well, striking. With a snip here and there, his hair rested evenly over his head. She couldn’t help but run her fingers through the thick, blond mass. Instantly, she realized what she was doing and trembled. Whatever had she been thinking?
“Do. . .do you mind if I cut a bit of your eyebrows since they tend to stick up too?” she asked.
He shook his head and moistened his lips. This is hard for both of us!
Once completed, she excused herself long enough to fetch her handled mirror from her bedroom. “Just look, Gabe.”
He took the mirror and their fingertips met—a gentle touch, but it seared her as though she’d stuck her hand in the midst of a hot flame.
Shakily placing the mirror in front of his face, he leaned closer. “You’ve worked wonders,” he mumbled.
“No, I haven’t. You have beautiful hair; it simply has a mind of its own.”
He examined his image more closely, turning the mirror from side to side to catch every angle. “Even without a hat, it will not stick out like a porcupine.”
She laughed and moved to face him. “Your hair looks good, and your face is pleasing too.” Now, why did I say that?
“Uh, thank you, but I believe you’ve been isolated on this farm too long. It’s affecting your judgment.” He avoided her gaze, and she too felt terribly uncomfortable at her brash statements. “I think it’s time I ventured to the barn.”
Lena nodded, but another whistle of the wind alarmed her. “Gabe, the barn is simply too cold for you to sleep out there. Why, you’ll freeze to death.”
This time his ears reddened. “Nonsense. I will be snug and warm.”
“I refuse for my husband to sleep in a barn when this soddy is where you belong.”
He stood and strode across the room for his coat. “And I say, the barn suits me fine.” He reached for the latch. “I have two warm quilts out there.”
“Would you like a comforter?”
Gabe stared at her incredulously, and she grasped his interpretation in horror. “I mean a third blanket.”
He hesitated. “If it will not inconvenience you.”
On unsteady legs, Lena made her way to the blanket chest in her bedroom and brought him a thick new quilt. He thanked her and opened the door. An icy gust of wind hurled its fury at them.
“Please, Gabe, stay inside tonight.”
“No, this is what I committed to do until we are ready to live as man and wife.”
Your stubbornness will make you ill. She grabbed her coat and muffler. “Then I’m going with you.”
nine
“Most certainly not!” Gabe replied, a little louder than he intended.
“If you insist upon freezing to death, I will most certainly join you,” Lena replied, shrugging into her coat.
Completely frustrated, Gabe toyed with the proper words to convince her of her absurdity. He’d tried so hard to refrain from using the vocabulary that confused those around him, but his mind spun with the terms familiar to him.
“See, you cannot even argue against me.” She swung her muffler around her neck and face.
“What must I do to convince you of this foolishness?” he asked with an exasperated sigh.
“Be sensible and sleep inside by the fire.”
I’ll agree until you fall asleep. “All right. I concede to your pleas, but I must get my quilts from the barn.”
“If you aren’t back in ten minutes, I’m coming out there.”
Gabe nodded, speechless. He knew Lena meant every word. He lifted the chain deep inside his overalls pocket holding his pocket watch. From what he’d seen of his wife with Caleb and Simon, he dared not proceed a moment past her ultimatum.
Odd, he used to have to tug on that chain to retrieve his pocket watch. Glancing at the small clock on the fireplace mantle, he double-checked the time.
“I’ll be waiting,” she said, folding her hands at her waist.
He’d seen that menacing look on her face before. The lightning stare didn’t occur often, but he understood the flash occurred before the thunder. Truth of the matter was, he enjoyed Lena’s feisty moments. She’d told him right from the start about her temper, but he’d yet to see it vex him. The few times she lashed out at the boys, they needed an upper hand.
The frigid air nearly took his breath away—a raw-bone cold that sought to solidify his blood. Gabe buttoned his coat tighter around him. Used to be the outer garment didn’t fasten. Another oddity.
Loyal Turnip braved the cold with him. “Thanks,” he said to the dog. “I believe we men need to form lasting bonds.” Moments later he returned with his quilts, after giving himself enough time to check on the livestock.
Once he glanced at the roaring fire, he saw she’d made a soft pallet before the burning embers. All those less than comfortable nights in the barn plodded across his mind. The smells there were still offensive, but he’d grown accustomed to them, and the sounds of animals—both inside and out—no longer jolted him from his sleep. With the cold came the likelihood of fe
wer insect bites.
Then he saw Lena. She’d removed her outer garments, but she’d been busy.
“What are you doing?” he asked at the sight of her constructing a second pallet beside his.
“I’m staying here beside you until you go to sleep,” she replied, not once looking his way. “Gabe, you’re a determined man, and as soon as you hear my even breathing in the next room, you’ll be out the door and to the barn. Won’t happen if I’m here. I sleep like a cat.”
Have I met my match? We’ll see who falls asleep first.
“And why are you so insistent about my sleeping arrangements?” He chuckled.
She wrapped her shawl about her shoulders. “The boys’ father stepped out into a blizzard and caught pneumonia. Before two months passed, he’d died.”
Gabe frowned. “I’m sorry, Lena, but I’m overly healthy. Just take a look at my portly size.”
“If you haven’t noticed, you’re losing weight.” Her features softened. “I don’t want to lose another husband.”
With elegant grace, Lena slowly descended to the floor, sitting on the rag rug where he’d taught the boys their lessons. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around the faded blue dress she wore every day but Sunday. An intense desire to draw her to him and kiss her soundly inched across his mind—just as it had earlier when she’d touched him. He couldn’t have this. Gabe Hunters had made a commitment. He’d feign sleep, then creep to the barn.
“Shall we talk?” he asked. “I’m not ready to retire.”
“I’d like that,” she replied quietly. “Is there anything you need? The pillow is nice and soft.”
“No, I’m fairly comfortable, thank you.”
Gabe studied her, this enigma before him. This puzzling, confusing, perplexing woman who bore his name. So unlike his mother, Lena’s spirit heightened with compassion and tenderness, even when angered. He didn’t want to learn to love her, not really. A part of him didn’t trust or rather refused to trust a woman as lovely as Lena Hunters. But. . .in quiet moments like these, he allowed himself to dream of this genteel woman loving him.
