Sweet Annie

by Cheryl St. John

  Luke held open the screen and followed. Annie showed him where to hang his coat on the hall tree beside hers.

  "You're here!" Diana called from the dining room. "Just in time. I'll tell Glenda to serve."

  Mildred and Aunt Vera's table conversation ceased and Annie's mother gave no indication that she'd no­ticed their arrival—shockingly poor manners from a woman who prided herself on social graces.

  Vera, however, bridged the awkward moment by standing and hurrying forward to hug Annie. She in­cluded Luke in her warm welcome, and he seemed caught off guard, his tanned cheeks infused with color.

  Charmaine and Glenda came from the kitchen wear­ing smiles and aprons and greeted them. Before long the family was seated around the table. Glenda served and Eldon carved the beef. Annie caught Luke staring at his arrangement of silverware, and she deliberately picked up a fork, indicating he should select the same one.

  He raised a brow and widened his blue eyes comi­cally as he picked up the utensil she'd suggested. She giggled and covered her mouth with her napkin.

  Mort included Luke in the conversation, asking about feed prices and the completion of the house. Annie appreciated her uncle's kindness, but then he'd always liked Luke, so his behavior was natural.

  "I'd like to see it now that it's finished," Aunt Vera said, her expression animated.

  "Oh, me, too!" Charmaine added.

  "Well, I'm still making curtains," Annie said. "We need a few rugs, too, I was hoping to find a pattern."

  "I can show you how to braid rags," Vera said.

  "Don't buy fabric," Diana added. "I have boxes of scraps that were my mother's in the attic."

  "Thank you, both of you!" Annie said, pleased at their generosity.

  "Come see the place anytime," Luke said to Mort. "How about next Sunday afternoon? You're all wel­come," he said, including Annie's parents and brother.

  Charmaine met Annie's gaze, grinned and clapped her hands like a little girl. "I can't wait!"

  "I have to meet with one of the Simpson brothers," Burdell said. "And the only time he has to spare is on Sundays."

  "You've been putting that off for a month," Diana said. "Another week won't hurt anything." She turned to Luke. "We'll be there. After dinner?"

  Luke confirmed the time.

  "We don't have chairs yet, but when we do—and when I learn to cook—" Annie began and her words were met by chuckles "—then we'll have you to din­ner." She joined in their laughter good-naturedly.

  "Tell us where you've placed all your lovely gifts," Charmaine prodded.

  Annie eagerly shared her excitement over their wed­ding gifts, though her mother stood and carried a few dishes to the kitchen instead of listening.

  Annie watched her leave, her rejection a returning hurt. Beneath the edge of the linen tablecloth Luke took her hand and squeezed it comfortingly.

  Annie noticed Diana giving Burdell a compelling look, and he folded his napkin and placed it beside his plate, then leaned on his elbows and laced his fingers. "We have some exciting news ourselves."

  "What is it, Son?" Eldon asked.

  "In the spring there will be another Sweetwater in the family," Burdell announced proudly.

  Dark eyes bright and her cheeks pink, Diana sur­veyed the reactions of the family members.

  A chorus of congratulations went up around the ta­ble.

  "Will, you're going to have a baby brother or sis­ter," Annie said to her nephew, and he grinned, sim­ply because she was speaking to him animatedly.

  "This calls for a toast," Eldon said and hurried to­ward the root cellar where he kept a supply of wines for special occasions.

  Annie was happy for her brother and sister-in-law. They were wonderful parents and it would be good for Will to have a playmate. She'd always wished she'd had more siblings to keep her company. She tried to gauge her mother's reaction, but the woman seemed indifferent to everything these days.

  Sometime later, after the dishes were cleared away and the family members argued their plans for the af­ternoon, Annie overheard Mort say in a low tone to her father, "Give the boy a chance, Eldon. He's a fine young fella, and he makes your daughter happy. Even you can see that."

  Annie paused just inside the doorway to the hall and listened.

  "It's going to take some time," her father replied. "I have to live with Mildred the rest of my life, you realize, and she has a blind spot where Annie is con­cerned."

  "I don't understand it," Mort said. "Sometimes she doesn't seem like the same sister I grew up with. Back then she let her hair down once in a while."

  "Maybe you could speak with her." Her father's voice sounded hopeful.

  "When's the last time you remember her givin' me the time of day? I decided to be a rancher, remember? Not a banker or an attorney or a statesman. As far as she's concerned I threw our father's inheritance away buying land."

  "You didn't hesitate to say something to me."

  Mort was silent a moment. “You and I are different, Eldon, but we respect each other. Mildred doesn't re­spect me."

  "She loves you, in her own way."

  "Maybe."

  They moved toward the outer door, and Annie re­turned to the kitchen. That evening, she told Luke what she'd overheard.

  "I'm sorry," he told her. He'd built a fire against the chill wind sweeping down off the mountains and they snuggled on a pile of blankets. "I know you're hurt. But it doesn't bother me. Really."

  "It bothers me. Why can't she be happy for me?" she asked, aware of the tremor in her voice. "She just can't see me as a—a normal person—or as a grown­up for that matter."

  Her mother's treatment hurt, but as always, Luke's caring touch brought her comfort.

  The following Sunday, Annie prepared them a quick lunch after church, then baked two pies from dried fruit Aunt Vera had given her. When their company arrived, Annie scanned the Renlows' wagon and found her mother absent.

  "Your mother had a headache," Eldon said, apol­ogetically.

  Annie hugged him. "Thank you for coming."

  Luke had stoked a blazing fire, and Annie had pulled their few chairs as well as several crates around the hearth. She saw to it that Diana sat in her com­fortable chair, then made coffee on the stove and tea in the china pot she'd purchased. Proudly, she served her warm pies on their new blue-and-white china plates.

  "You made this?" Her father looked up from his dessert, obviously skeptical. He glanced at Luke.

  "Yes," Annie replied. "I can do a lot of things now, Daddy."

  "I worry about you being way out here alone while Luke is at the livery."

  "There are horses if I needed anything," she re­plied.

  "And you could ride one of them?" Burdell asked, glancing from Annie to Luke.

  "Luke's been teaching me how to saddle Wrangler and how to hook him up to the traces on the wagons."

  "Is that safe?" Eldon asked, addressing Luke.

  "Not knowin' how to do something right is what makes it dangerous," her husband replied. "Annie can do anything she sets her mind to."

  Charmaine glanced from Luke to Annie and sighed.

  Annie surveyed her father and brother and her hus­band all eating pie under the same roof and a tide of emotion overcame her. There had been a time when even this much had seemed impossible, and now it had come to pass. There was still hope for friendships to develop, for bonds to strengthen...and for her mother to come around.

  Over the weeks that followed Annie learned to ride and hitch teams and how to put the animals away properly, how to groom, feed and water them. She learned how much coffee to place in the pot and not to salt bacon gravy. She discovered that a handful of baking soda would put out a fire in a frying pan and that Luke had a fondness for dumplings.

  When she made a mistake, Luke laughed and en­couraged her to try again. She also learned innumer­able ways a man and woman could please each other. Wrapped in his arms each night, she gloried in his soft murmurs, found ways to make
him sigh and groan and shudder, as well as ways to elicit laughter.... Some­times they'd barely slept before morning came, crisp and cold, and Luke would start a fire and heat the stove.

  Most mornings she cooked him breakfast before he left, but a few times breakfast was forgotten when he returned to bed and snuggled against her beneath the covers, then had to grab his coat and a cold bite of food and ran to break the thin layer of ice on the stock tanks, feed the horses and leave for the livery.

  Annie sewed beside the fire, comfortably settled in her new upholstered chair, turning out shirtwaists and dresses and dressing gowns ordered by the women of Copper Creek and even several customers from sur­rounding towns as word spread of her expertise with a needle and thread.

  The following month she made enough on her own to pay the bank note and had never experienced such a sense of pride and worth. She rode to Fort Parker with Luke, and he insisted she be the one to enter the bank and present the payment. She returned to him on the boardwalk, the receipt clasped in her gloved hand.

  "Thank you, Luke," she choked, the frigid Decem­ber wind freezing tears on her lashes.

  "Don't thank me always," he said, pulling her against the thick wool of his coat. "We're a team, Annie."

  She nodded against his neck.

  "I have the list we made," he said, pulling a scrap of paper from his pocket. "Shall we make our pur­chases?"

  "I want something special for Diana's baby. And there's something else I want," she told him. "A gift I want to give my mother, and I think I remember where to find it."

  "Okay. Let's shop and then have a nice lunch at the hotel."

  Luke drove the wagon, laden with packages and supplies, home through swirling flakes of snow. A pristine white layer covered the ground around their house, the cottonwoods blanketed in the sound-absorbing fluff, the aspens still bright yellow in con­trast. "Isn't it beautiful?" Annie asked, in awe.

  The sound of the horses' hooves and the creak of the wagon seemed loud in the peaceful winter air. The horses blew great gusts of white through their nostrils as they trudged into the yard. "Can you get the fire going while I put up the horses and fork down some hay?"

  "Of course. Help me down and I'll carry pack­ages."

  She prepared a light supper since they'd eaten a big meal in town. Luke brought harnesses in to repair while they enjoyed the warmth of the fire. In the weeks that followed, Annie used her evenings to work on gifts for Christmas, and had completed something for nearly every member of the family, amazing Luke with her speed and skill.

  Something had begun to bother her, and it wasn't until she made a trip into town and called on Glenda while the girls were in school that the puzzle came into place in her mind.

  That evening Luke sat at the table with a cup of coffee and the ledger books that held his records of the stock while Annie finished the dishes and started a pot of beans soaking for the next day.

  Stomach fluttering, she studied Luke bent over the pages in concentration. She loved watching him, loved spending their evenings together, and appreciated that they didn't have to keep a constant flow of conver­sation going to be comfortable with each other's com­pany. Annie practiced the words in her mind.

  "Luke?" she began.

  "Hmm?"

  "I have something to tell you." "Okay."

  "You might want to look at me when I say it."

  He raised his head and set the pencil down, turning his full attention on her. "Okay."

  She brushed her hands over her skirt nervously. "I know we haven't been married very long, barely two months, and we enjoy our time alone together..."

  He raised a brow in curiosity.

  "I hope you're going to be happy about this..."

  "We won't know until you tell me."

  "Yes. Well." She cleared her throat. Thinking bet­ter of her position at the side of the table, she stepped closer, right up in front of him.

  "Annie, this is very mysterious," he said with a grin. “What is this secret?''

  "It's not a secret, really. It's something I only learned today."

  "In town? What is it?"

  She took a deep breath. "I'm going to have a baby."

  Chapter Fifteen

  There, she'd said it. Her ears hummed with the rush of nerves, waiting for his reaction.

  He stared at her, his blue eyes wide and unblinking.

  "I haven't had a monthly since we were married, and I talked to Glenda today, and she asked me a few questions. I went to Dr. Martin's office and he con­firmed that there's a baby inside me. Isn't that amaz­ing?"

  He laid down his pencil.

  "Are you happy?" she asked, hopefully.

  "My God, Annie," he said, rising from the chair. He placed his hands on her upper arms and stared into her eyes. A smile broke across his handsome features and he hugged her against him. "Of course, I'm happy!"

  He spun her around in a circle, then held her close to his heart. Annie clung to him and allowed her plea­sure to flow through her mind and fill her already bursting heart.

  Luke pushed her away far enough to gently kiss her lips. "I'm very happy, Annie. I love you. What more could a man ask for?"

  "I wonder—do you think I'll be able to take care of him the way he'll need to be taken care of? The doctor didn't seem to think I would have any problems physically. He said I'm healthy and everything's nor­mal. But I suppose I could see a doctor in Fort Par­ker."

  "I have no doubt that you're healthy and normal," Luke assured her firmly. "But if you want to see an­other doctor, I want you to do whatever you're com­fortable with. You'll be able to take care of a baby. Why wouldn't you? What have I told you a hundred times?"

  "I know, I know, but this is...well it's a little scary."

  He hugged her again. "There's nothing to be afraid of. We're together, you and I. It has never mattered to us what people said or thought or that they doubted. We found each other and we've made a marriage and a life together. This is part of that. A very wonderful part of that. Don't let doubts spoil it."

  "Oh, Luke, sometimes I don't know how I could be any happier or how my life could be any better, but it just keeps getting more and more full."

  "I know," he said, his voice low and husky with emotion. "I know, Annie." He touched her face with tenderness, gazing into her eyes as if she were the most precious thing on earth. He had so much love to give, and he was incredibly generous with himself. He would be a wonderful father. How had she been so fortunate?

  Still, she had so many doubts. "I've been remem­bering all the times I wasn't allowed to hold Will when he was a baby, as though they didn't trust me with him."

  "If I've learned anything about your father and brother," Luke said, "it's that you are their main con­cern. If they didn't allow you to hold him it was be­cause they worried for your sake, not the baby's. Just like they don't trust me to care for you properly. It's you they care about. Even if their thinkin' has been wrong in the past, they're coming around."

  "I've never even held a baby!"

  "You'll know how to hold our baby when he gets here. Annie, I'm so proud of you—of both of us." He chuckled. "But you. You are the perfect wife and you'll be a perfect mother."

  "I hope so," she said on a sigh. "Are we going to tell my family?"

  "About the baby?" He blinked. "Would you let them think you're bakin' too many apple pies? They'll notice eventually."

  She laughed. "I'm silly, aren't I?"

  "You're silly, but I love you just the way you are."

  Annie grew still and silent in his arms, thinking. "Do you suppose that's what's wrong with my mother? She loved me the way I was, and she can't accept me now?" She inspected his expression. “Would you still love me if I changed?''

  He stroked her shoulder through her shirtwaist. "You can't always figure everything out," he told her calmly. "Don't upset yourself tryin'."

  She knew he was right. She gave too much thought and concern to her mother's rejection. She couldn't go
back to being that girl, and if her mother couldn't ac­cept that, Annie would have to build a life without her. But it would hurt.

  In the days that followed, she concentrated on think­ing about the good things that were happening, loving her husband, planning for their baby.

  Annie anticipated Christmas like a little child. She finished two linen shirts for Luke, using his one good shirt as a pattern, and bought him a box of writing stationery and an ink pen. She hid those gifts in the bottom of one of her trunks and wondered if he had something hidden for her.

  On Christmas Eve she left a pot of savory stew bub­bling on the stove and bundled up, wearing a pair of his boots that she practically walked out of with every step in the foot-high snow, and accompanied him to select a tree from the hillside behind their house.

  The tree they selected was too big, because they didn't have any ornaments, but they both loved the size and the shape, so he set it up in the comer of the room and Annie popped popcorn and Strang it until her fingers were sore from threading the needle.

  They ate the stew and thick slices of buttered bread on the floor in front of the fire. Annie cleaned up the dishes and rejoined him.

  "It smells wonderful." She inhaled the heavy fra­grance of their first tree. "Next year we'll have or­naments."

  "Next year we'll have a baby," he replied softly.

  The wonder of it still amazed her. She leaned against him with a sigh. "What shall we name him? What was your father's name?"

  "John."

  "John's a good name."

  "What if it's a girl?"

  "Mmm. Johanna?"

  "People might call her Jo."

  They discussed names until they agreed they didn't know what they wanted to name their baby and laughed, because they had so much time to think about it.

  Annie went to her trunk and returned with her gifts for Luke which she'd wrapped in tissue paper and rib­bon. Luke retrieved a small package from his coat pocket and handed it to her. "Mine isn't as pretty," he said.

  Annie accepted the gift wrapped in brown paper and string and thought it was beautiful.

  Luke opened his shirts and ran his fingers over the delicate stitches in amazement. He got up, slipped out of his flannel shirt and shrugged into his new one. He stroked the sleeve. "I've never had shirts so nice. Thank you."