[2015] Cowboy for Christmas

by Christian Michael

  He wanted to wake her up, to demand an answer from her, but he couldn’t. She laid there, delicate and fragile, skin pale against the blankets, and all he could feel was helplessness and a deep well of love for her. If she hadn’t told him, she had her reasons. She also wouldn’t have been able to hide it much longer so she had to have some sort of plan.

  Stepping back, he let the blanket drop back into place. He’d let her rest for now, praying over their later conversation and his reaction to what she would say to him.

  Chapter 5

  Effie awoke with a start, wondering where she was and why she was lying in bed when the sun rode low on the horizon. Her hand rested against her stomach, feeling the slight bulge there, and she licked dry lips. She’d fainted. Then she’d awoken to a doctor poking and prodding her.

  Closing her eyes for a moment she fought down the panic that threatened her. Mack had to know about the baby now. The doctor had told her things seemed to be all right, but she knew the moment he walked out of her room that he would say something to Mack. She’d almost asked him not to, but his suspicions would have been roused.

  She raised and hand and ran it over her face. What would Mack think?

  She heard movement in the other room and decided it was better to face things head on now than to wait. Pushing herself up from the bed, she wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and walked into the other room. Mack stopped what he was doing, staring at her.

  “You’re up,” he finally said.

  She nodded, not trusting her voice just yet.

  “You…feeling all right?” he asked.

  It was just a courtesy, something to fill the space. Her courage faltered. “Yes.”

  “The doctor,” Mack took a step toward her, the pot of coffee he had been making now forgotten. “He—he told me…”

  “About the baby,” she supplied.

  Mack nodded, lips pursed.

  “I'm sorry.” She felt overwhelmed and near tears but this time she would stay. Even if they fell, she wouldn’t run away from him. “I should have told you. I was just…I was so scared and I didn’t know what to do and…I—I’m sorry.”

  He was shaking his head. “So you did know. Before you came.”

  The hurt in his eyes was almost her undoing. “I did.”

  “Why? Why didn’t you say something?”

  “How could I?” She looked at him in disbelief. “I was left at the alter by my fiancé. He—I…we spent one night together—a mistake—and then he left me standing there. All alone.” Her voice cracked. “I had to get out of Boston. My parents would have disowned me and I would have been left destitute.”

  Tears fell down her cheeks now, running in parallel lines and dripping onto her dress. She felt helpless and an edge of fear crept into her heart. Would Mack send her away? He could have grounds for divorce. The thought terrified her but not in a way she would have expected. She was scared for her child, this little life inside of her who hadn’t done anything wrong.

  “P-please,” she said, reverting to begging. “I know I’m not the wife you wanted. I…I’m not a lot of things you expected, but please don’t send us away.”

  He looked at her but she couldn’t decipher the emotion she saw on his face. She could tell her words surprised him though. Would he send them away?

  “I’m not going to send you away,” he said, his eyes staying focused on her. “But I want to talk. I want you to tell me about…well, everything.”

  She gasped, her hand absentmindedly resting on her abdomen. Then, her head began to nod slowly.

  “All right, I’ll start at the beginning.”

  Effie told Mack about everything—her life growing up in a well-off home, the pressure of her parents to marry a rich husband, Ronald and all of his seemingly good qualities that combined to create a selfish, awful man.

  “He didn't say anything when he left,” she finally admitted. “He let me go so far as to make it to the alter before I found out that he had left me.”

  “How could he do that?” Mack asked.

  His question made sense, but she still laughed, thinking now about all of the things she knew about Ronald. “I should have known, really. He got what he wanted…a night with me,” she said, blushing, “And then he was done with his commitment. For a time, I decided to look past his flaws. The selfishness with which he treated me and the arrogance that characterized him but it was just that—an illusion I created. I should have known better.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  Mack’s words drew her gaze to him, seeking out if he truly meant what he was saying.

  “It’s true. I think you blame yourself for his actions. He left you and that was his wrong choice. Not yours.”

  Mack’s words acted like a balm on her heart. This whole time she’d been angry—at Ronald, at her situation, at the world—and it had come out in anger against Mack, but now she could see that he didn’t deserve any of it. He was kind, generous, and understanding, likely to a fault.

  “I don’t know how you can say that.” She looked down.

  “You think that it was your fault, somehow. It’s not. Yes, you lied to me and I don’t like that fact, but I can also see the circumstances that led you to make that choice. And I—” he swallowed then drilled his gaze into hers, “I forgive you.”

  She filled with warmth at his words. She didn't deserve his forgiveness and yet he was bestowing it on her. “Thank you.”

  “Effie, I don’t just want you to live here with me. I don’t want us to be at odds like this—to fight and bicker and argue. I want us to discover what it’s like to be a family.” He looked at her abdomen before his eyes flickered back to hers. “I want to be a father to your child. If you’ll let me.”

  Her heart leapt in joy. This was what she wanted. Granted, Mack was nothing that she’d expected nor would she have picked him out of a crowd in Boston, but his patience and calm demeanor drew her to him. When he’d almost kissed her—before she passed out, likely from lack of breathing—she’d wanted to experience his lips on hers. She had wanted to be close to him.

  “I want that too,” she finally said.

  “Really?” he asked.

  Effie looked away, not wanting to be swayed by the look in his eyes or the feelings jumbling inside of her because of his nearness. She knew it would take time. They wouldn't become close overnight nor would they understand each other right off either, but she felt certain they could come to an understanding. That they could learn to maybe even love one another someday. That thought caused her to smile and she looked up at him.

  “Yes. Really. I want us to be a family.”

  ***

  Mack felt a surge of joy course though him. She wanted what he did—they just went about it in different ways. But the fact that she wanted to try was the important thing. It gave him hope and calmed some of the nerves at the thought of being a father to a child he hadn’t known existed. Together, if they both fought for the same things, they could accomplish much.

  “Good,” he finally said, stepping closer. On impulse he reached out and took her hands in his. They were delicate and soft, smooth without the wear and tear of everyday use for difficult tasks. They were different in every way from his.

  He looked into her eyes and saw openness in her. It was beautiful and drew him toward her. He wanted to be close to her.

  “Mack,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “I’m scared.”

  He frowned. “About what? Me?”

  “No,” she said, laughing, “About being a mother.”

  “Well good.” His words drew a sharp look from her. “I'm scared about being a father. We can learn to be parents together.”

  “But first, let’s learn to be friends.”

  Her words surprised him but he nodded slowly. “I think that’s a good idea.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes.” He lifted one of her hands up and kissed the knuckles. “I know we’re as different as night and day. I’ve grow
n up in the West. You in the East. And we are trying to merge together a lot of thoughts, feelings, and emotions, but I want you to know right off the bat that I'm determined to do my best by you,” he paused, “And the little one.”

  “I am sorry,” she said. Her voice was even softer this time. Filled with regret. He knew she was saying sorry not for just deceiving him but for everything—for how she had acted up until this point, for the anger she had sent his way, for it all.

  “All is forgiven,” he said, then leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

  He wanted to press his lips to hers, but he would wait. They were a long way from being comfortable with one another. Sure, they might get along now that the lies were out in the open and nothing else would be in the way, but it would take time before they fully trusted one another.

  “And we can look at it this way,” he added, “God has brought us together for a purpose.”

  She smiled, nodding her agreement.

  Then, standing next to his wife pregnant with what he would claim as his child, he thanked the Lord for His gracious provision. It wasn’t what he’d expected, but as Pastor Tobias had said, God had greater reasons than he, a mere man, could ever fathom.

  Chapter 6

  Several months later

  The pain came sharp and intense, shocking Effie. Her hand flew to her stomach as she stood at the stove mixing up hotcake batter for breakfast. Mack was out at the barn doing chores as she got ready for the day. It was a routine they had slipped into and she like the familiarity of it. The comfort of knowing how things would go each morning.

  She was still shy around him, but the months had taken away the fear and the difficulty of not knowing one another. Each and every day Mack proved to be kinder, more gracious, and more loving that any man Effie had ever known. In comparison to Ronald…well, she couldn’t compare the two because there was almost nothing similar about the men. Where Ronald had sought out what he wanted, Mack was more concerned with what she wanted.

  Doubling over in pain again, she let out a cry. The baby was coming and she wasn’t ready. Or maybe she was, but it was hard to know. She felt confident that Mack would be a good father, but would she be a good mother?

  The door flew open and Mack stood there looking shocked. “Effie, what’s wrong?”

  “The…baby—” she managed.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No, it’s coming!” she shouted out the last part as another contraction clenched her midsection.

  “I’ll send Hank for the doctor.” And he was gone.

  Part of her wished he hadn’t left, but there was nothing she could do, at least not immediately. Instead of sitting down and waiting for the pain to come she continued what she was doing. She felt foolish, but when she was cooking or cleaning or doing anything other than waiting for the excruciating pain, her mind was kept busy.

  Mack came back in soon and tried to get her to sit down but she wouldn’t listen. He stood, watching her, wringing his hands, and jumping to her side when the pains came, but then stepping back to let her be until she called for him again.

  It all flew by in a blur once the doctor showed up, his calm and confident manner making her feel assured. He sent Hank out to pump more water and they got down to the business of having a baby.

  ***

  Mack paced back and forth, the reality that his child was coming into the world sending jolts of excitement and terror though him in equal parts. It was amazing that, over the last several months, he had started to think of the child as his own.

  It didn’t matter that the father was someone else. It only mattered that he would love the baby as if it was his own and he would always think of the child as his. A scream came from inside and he ran a shaky hand through his hair. It felt like ages since Effie had gone into labor. Just how long would this take?

  In answer to his unspoken question the door flew open and the doctor motioned him inside, a grin on his face.

  “Congratulations.” His kind eyes sparkled up at Mack. “It’s a boy.”

  Mack’s entire body felt like it was on fire from exhaustion and excitement. A son? He had a son!

  He rushed to the back of the small home to see Effie propped up on pillows, a small bundled held in her arms. She looked up at him and, when their eyes met, he saw genuine happiness written there.

  “It’s a boy,” she said. She sounded tired, but happy. He couldn’t imagine the pain she’d gone through, but he was just happy to see her healthy and hear that their baby was all right too. “Come and see him.”

  Carefully, almost tiptoeing up in case he would wake the child up, he came forward and sat down on the bed next to her. She lowered her arms and the wrinkly head of the small baby came into view. His little eyes scrunched up then relaxed as if he’d struggled against unseen forces and then won the battle.

  “He’s beautiful,” Mack said, feeling the moisture of tears in his eyes.

  “He is isn’t he?” Effie said.

  One glance told Mack that she was just as enamored with the child as he was—probably more so.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  Her eyes met his. “Tired. But all right.”

  They held each other’s gaze for longer than necessary and he felt the pressure of words he needed to say. Things he had wanted to say for months now but that he’d held back. He hadn’t wanted her to think he was just saying them because he had to. But now was the perfect time, their son in her arms between them.

  “Effie,” he began, swallowing with the force of the emotions he was feeling, “I have to tell you something, and you need to know that I mean it with all of my heart.”

  “All right,” she said, a small smile lifting the corner of her mouth.

  Before he spoke, he reached up and tucked a stray curl of hair behind her ear. She was exhausted, pale, and her hair still held the remnants of sweat, but to him she was beautiful.

  “I want you to know that, no matter what, I will always love our son and,” he paused, making sure she could see the truth in his eyes, “And I love you. Very much.”

  Now she had tears in her eyes, but they were from joy, that much he could tell. This time she wasn’t going to run off in a torrent of emotions, she was going to sit there in front of him and let him see all of her.

  “I love you too, Mack.” She cupped his face with her hand. “You have been so kind to me—to us—and I can never repay you. I know I don’t need to. I hope that my love can be enough.”

  “It is more than enough. It’s all that I want.”

  Then he leaned forward, careful not to crush their son between them, and he kissed her with passion, showing her he meant everything he’d said and so much more.

  When they broke apart she was ginning. “There’s one very important thing left for you to do.”

  “What’s that?” he asked with a frown.

  “Name your son.”

  He felt the weight of responsibility at her words but knew it was an honor she wanted to give him. To show him her trust and the fact that they truly were a family.

  Looking down at the little on in her arms he thought back to how God had provided for them. Then it came to him and he knew exactly what he would name the boy.

  “Let’s call him Nathan. It means ‘gift of God’ and I think that is exactly what he is.”

  She smiled, the tiredness momentarily gone from her features as she nodded in agreement with him.

  “It’s perfect.”

  Mack shifted on the bed so he was sitting next to her and could warp his arm around his wife as she held their son. And they rested there, Mack thanking the Lord for his provision and of a family that he could not only provide for, but love as well.

  THE END.

  A Pregnant Bride

  Mail Order Bride

  By: Christian Michael

  Chapter One

  Lillian’s head was swimming in the hot, soupy summer heat. She, her two sisters and her mother were all crammed into the
tiny church reception room. Her nose filled with her mother’s warm perfume but it made her feel sick, so sick she could hardly bear to keep her eyes open

  ‘What do you mean Benson isn’t there?’ she said, her voice barely audible. Lillian’s head remained firmly down, her veil providing a tiny shelter from the outside world making everything look softer. She and her sister’s hair were filled with peach blossoms and tiny petals littered the floor, becoming creased and browning with little pink bursts at their edges.

  ‘No-one’s seen him since yesterday, my dear Lillian, I’m so sorry’ Margaret’s voice was gentle, lilting. Margaret was the youngest, barely fourteen. Her hair was wild and strawberry blonde, worked into careful braids for the occasion which looped round at the back of her head. She was wearing her best summer dress of pink linen which she had almost outgrown. Mother was terrified that she would end up as tall as her own sister Elizabeth. ‘Finding her a husband made your grandmother ill with nerves,’ she used to say. Margaret was optimistic and gentle almost to a fault. Clara, the middle daughter, was studious and had petite, elegant features. She was the opposite of Margaret though only a year older. Shy and thoughtful, she struggled with making conversation. She was happiest alone, rummaging through their father’s library or (to their Mother’s dismay) sitting in fields sketching flowers. Lillian worried for her, her quiet steadfastness and her searing intellect would surely make it difficult for her to survive married life. But here Lillian was, with no married life to speak of. Suddenly she was the failure, no longer the perfect eldest daughter but the embarrassment of the family.

  No-one spoke for a while. Each woman hovering in place, straining against the harsh lines of their corsets. The three sisters could barely meet each other’s eyes, none of them able to face the shame and fear that Lillian was feeling.

  ‘I suppose we should tell the guests’ Clara said, gesturing as if she wanted to conjure something more comforting out of the air.