She was his woman, his wife, and he felt a thrill of ownership at the thought. Not that her body was his property, but that her very life was committed to him. It was a commitment he had no doubt she would keep. And he would be the better for it.
She was a contentious woman sometimes, quarrelsome and stubborn. She scolded him for the least little thing, caused him to lose his temper more than he’d ever done before, with her standing toe-to-toe with him the way she did.
And now she’d gone and done something that took his very breath from his body..
She had washed his feet.
“You have a letter, Leah,” Eva Landers called from her desk where the morning mail was in the process of being organized. Boxes behind her bore the names of all the townsfolk, and as she spoke, Eva sorted letters, circulars and postcards into the various cubicles.
“All right,” Leah answered, her fingers fumbling at the coins in her small purse. Suddenly numb, her fingertips refused to function as they ought, and she bit at her lip as she shook the money into the palm of her hand.
“I must have the correct change here, Bonnie,” she said, her mind going blank as she attempted to recall the amount the storekeeper had asked for in payment for her groceries.
Bonnie leaned over the counter and picked at the assortment. “Got it!” she announced, dropping the coins into her cash drawer.
“Thanks,” Leah said, tucking her purse away. “I’ll just step over and get my letter.”
“You’re really getting popular, Leah,” Eva teased. “Two letters in one year.” The envelope was simply addressed to Leah Gunderson, in care of General Delivery, with no return address. She folded it once and stuffed it deeply into her pocket, thanking Eva politely.
“Someone from the city?” Eva asked.
“Probably.” Leah searched for a smile, settling for a twitch of her lips. “I think Gar is about done at the mill, Eva. I’d better get my things together. Thanks, again.”
Dropping her bundles on the edge of the sidewalk, Leah peered down the street toward the sawmill. Saturday morning in town was always busy. Today seemed even more so, with buggies and wagons coming in from four different directions.
“Morning, Miss Leah.” Brian Havelock tipped his hat and paused a respectful distance from his former laundry lady. “I heard tell you paid a visit to Mr. Magnor last week. Got him back on his feet right soon, I understand.”
Leah nodded. “I was glad to be of service, Mr. Havelock.” Surely Gar was on his way by now. The red wagon was not hard to spy, and she stepped into the street to look from a different angle.
“I’ll bet he paid you a pretty penny for making a house call on Sunday, didn’t he?” Brian asked, pushing his hat back and chewing on a toothpick.
“I beg your pardon?” Leah was shocked at the crude remark, and disappointed in the man she’d thought was a friend.
“You know what I mean. Everybody knows he’s loaded to the gills with money. I’ll bet it was worth a bundle to him for you to get him back on his feet so quick-like.”
“You overstep, Mr. Havelock,” Leah said coldly. “I fear we have nothing to speak about.”
He moved a few inches closer, and his hand snaked out to clasp her wrist. “I’ve been wondering what the big farmer man has that persuaded you to marry him, Leah. He’s pretty well set, out there on that spread of . his, ain’t he? Bet you’re gonna be fixed for life.”
Leah tugged for freedom, but Brian tightened his grip. “Is it worth it to sleep with the big lummox?” His chuckle was low and mocking. “I offered you a good time and a nice place in town, not to mention a healthy specimen of manhood to keep you happy. You never even came to the dance that time, when you promised me you would.” His laugh was low and filled with bitterness as he mocked her. “You missed your best chance, ma’am.”
“I find nothing attractive about you or the proposal you offered me, Mr. Havelock,” Leah said tightly, fearing that their conduct was becoming a spectacle for the passersby’s entertainment. “As for the dance you speak of, I had other things on my mind the night of that dance, as you well know. Furthermore, I think my husband would be more than angry if he were to hear of your remarks.”
“Well, I doubt you’re gonna tell him, are you? Just remember, when you get tired of the old farm boy, come see me. We’ll have a good time, honey.”
Leah broke the grip of strong fingers and backed away from the man. She felt a trembling overtake her that had nothing to do with fear but much to do with a furor she could barely contain.
“Don’t ever put your hands on me again,” she said in a low, controlled voice. “I have access to several firearms, and I’m sure I can figure out how to shoot them without too much trouble.”
Brian teetered back on his heels. “Are you threatening me, honey?”
Just beyond the man’s shoulder, a red wagon came into view and Leah turned her back on her erstwhile suitor, hailing Gar with an uplifted hand. When she glanced at her bundles and then back at the street, Brian had moved from sight, and she heaved a sigh of relief.
Gar Lundstrom would more than wipe up the dust of the street with the young man if he had heard just one remark that had fallen from Brian’s mouth. Becoming a public spectacle was far from Leah’s aim in life, and she whispered a prayer of thanks for Gar’s appearance.
“You about ready, Leah?” Gar asked, jumping down from the wagon.
“Yes, my things are there,” she said, pointing to the bundles. “It took me two trips.”
“You about bought the store out, didn’t you?” His muscles flexed as he lifted two packages at a time, holding them by the string that was wound firmly and tied on top of each bundle.
Leah watched as he loaded them all then looked expectantly at her. “We ready?” he asked.
“Yes, just about. Do you still have to stop at the blacksmith’s?”
“I’ll only be ten minutes or so,” he said, holding her arm as she climbed inside the wagon box.
“I’ll wait outside, if you’ll park in the shade,” she offered. “It’ll be time enough for me to check over my lists again.”
The horse chestnut tree stood just beyond the big double doors of the blacksmith’s shop. Glowing coals marked the forge Sten Pringle worked, and his muscular arms glistened in the sun, his shirtsleeves torn off at the shoulder. The various instruments of his trade hung on an iron rack, and Sten handled them with ease. His body was honed by the hours he spent swinging a heavy hammer, forming the horseshoes and metal fittings. He was an awesome sight to behold.
Leah sat atop the red wagon, idly waving a folding fan she’d found in her reticule. A souvenir of George Thorwald’s funeral three years ago, it was but one of many to be seen on this hot afternoon. It was a lazy day, dust motes floating in the air, and even the blacksmith’s dog was too warm to investigate the visitors to his domain.
Leah’s gaze admired Gar, her thoughts taken with the man she’d married, watching him as he spoke, his hair gleaming in the sun.
Although a tall, strong man in his own right, he was almost swallowed up in the figure of Sten Pringle as he conducted horse business Leah hoped would not take too long. She swatted at a fly buzzing near her ear. They gathered in this area, probably due to the number of horses here and at the livery stable next door.
It was to that establishment Eric Magnor rode his black horse, a stallion if Leah knew anything about it. Her eyes flitted to the animal’s obvious male structure and away, a feeling of awe overcoming her reluctance to view such a physical trait.
Eric looked to be fit and capable, especially for a man his age, Leah thought. Her gaze touched upon him as he dismounted from his horse and led it to a hitching post available there.
“Mr. Magnor!” Sten called out, waving the heavy hammer he held. “I’ll be with you in a few minutes, soon as I finish up with Mr. Lundstrom here.”
“No hurry,” Eric said, waving in return, tugging at his reins to reinforce the knot he’d formed. He glanced aro
und and saw Leah. He lifted two fingers in a salute and walked in her direction.
“Mrs. Lundstrom!” His greeting was jovial and his eyes scanned her rapidly as she sat primly on the wagon seat. “Would you like to descend and wait for your husband on that bench over there?”
Leah shook her head. “No, thank you, sir. He won’t be long.” His eyes were clear, the circles beneath them almost too faint to notice, and his skin color was healthy. “You look as though your illness has left you with no permanent effect,” she said, relieved to see that he appeared to have completed a full recovery.
“I’m fine, Leah,” he answered, using her given name as he stepped closer to the wagon. “I can’t thank you enough for the care you gave me. My housekeeper and Thomas are still singing your praises. I fear they’ve spread the word. I only hope you’re not inundated by folks seeking your help. I doubt Mr. Lundstrom would appreciate your absence from home on a regular basis.”
Leah smiled, pleased by his words of praise, sensing a strength and vitality in the man that drew her interest. Almost as if he spoke to a part of her that hungered for words of friendship and admiration, she felt herself liking him more and more.
“How is the little girl?” he asked. “My housemaid was quite taken with her, and the boy, too. I expect they keep you busy, don’t they?”
She nodded. “They’re at home today with the wife of one of Mr. Lundstrom’s farmhands. And, yes, they do keep me hopping. It’s almost as if they were really my own, Mr. Magnor. I’ve had the care of Karen almost since the day she was born, and Kristofer has spent a lot of time with me.”
“Lundstrom is a lucky man to have found you, and an even smarter man to have married you, Leah. I hope you are happy with him.”
The statement sounded almost like a question and Leah met his gaze for a moment before answering. A look of expectancy lit his eyes and he watched her soberly. “Leah? Am I being too bold, asking such a thing?”
She shook her head. “Oh, no! Not at all. Gar Lundstrom is a fine man—you’re right. A good husband, and a wonderful father.”
His brow drew down and he tapped his fingers against the rim of the wagon bed. “If there is ever anything I can do for you, I want you to know that my door is open to you. Anytime, Leah. Anytime at all. I owe you a great debt,” he added quietly.
Leah felt a flush cover her cheeks and she whispered her thanks. “You don’t owe me anything, Mr. Magnor, but I appreciate your kind words.”
“Leah?” Gar’s voice was stern, and Leah lifted her gaze to meet his, noting his downturned mouth and narrowed eyes.
“Are you ready to leave now, Gar?” she asked, folding her fan and making a great show of replacing it in her reticule.
“I was just telling your wife how much I appreciated her help last Sunday,” Eric told Gar, turning to him with an outstretched hand.
Gar clasped it, shook it once and murmured his thanks. “She was pleased to help you, I’m sure,” he said with barely a trace of civility in his tone.
“I’ll tend to my business now.” Eric turned to the blacksmith. “Good day to you both.” He tipped his hat in Leah’s direction, and she was again struck by the depth of his scrutiny, the firm line of his mouth and chin.
Gar climbed aboard the wagon and turned it about beneath the tree, cutting a sharp curve back onto the road toward home. “What was all that about?” he asked Leah after a few minutes.
“All what?” she asked, knowing what he wanted but unwilling to repeat the words she’d shared with the mill owner.
Gar’s eyes struck sparks as he looked at her. His hands were clenched tightly upon the reins, his anger in evidence. “What did Eric have to say to you, Leah? His business with you was finished last Tuesday. He had no reason to approach you today.”
She turned her head away, looking out across the fields that held wheat in abundance. A rabbit ran across the ditch and headed for the wagon’s path, halting just as it reached the side of the road. Eyes bulging and whiskers twitching, the small creature looked like prey for any hungry hawk, not to mention the half-wild barn cats that roamed the hedges.
Leah looked back over her shoulder, feeling a strange kinship with the gray bunny, watching as it hopped across the road to safety. So might she seek the security of her room once she got back to the farm, she decided. Gar seemed determined to have a fuss over Eric Magnor. And she was equally set against the idea.
“Leah,” Gar said, his tone softening a bit. “I don’t think it’s proper for you to spend time with a man like Magnor.”
“How about spending time with Brian Havelock, then? He had quite a bit to say to me today, and you didn’t raise a fuss over that, Mr. Lundstrom.”
“Well then, what did he say to you?” Gar asked, as if he must humor her.
“I don’t believe I’ll tell you,” she answered after a moment’s silence.
“Are we going to have an argument, Leah?”
“I think you’d do well to leave it alone for now, Mr. Lundstrom. I’m willing to ride with you in silence. I am not willing to hear you fuss at me all the way home.”
He snapped the reins in the air over the backs of his horses and the team set out at a rapid clip, the wagon rolling easily behind. Wood bounced in the back, wide boards and square posts and bags of what Leah supposed were nails and fittings.
“The blacksmith will be out tomorrow to shoe several of the horses,” Gar said. “I have invited him to have the noon meal with us. Will that be all right with you?” He looked straight ahead, and Leah was forced to answer aloud, knowing he would ignore a nod of her head.
“Yes, certainly. It is your house, after all—all but the kitchen, since I am the one who works there. You have the right to invite anyone you choose to share the table with you.”
The growl issuing from his throat was interspersed with words Leah could not decipher—nor did she want to. In fact, if she was not mistaken, her irate husband was swearing up a storm, and she could only look aside, unwilling to allow him access to the smile that threatened to turn to laughter.
Anger brewed slowly in Gar Lundstrom, and she suspected she was in for a period of silence that would only be shattered by heated words and more of Gar’s rigid notions of the proper behavior for his wife.
She had been Leah Gunderson for too many years to bow to a man’s whims at this stage of her life. Gar was in for a battle royal, and she hoped fervently that she was sturdy enough to hold her own.
Chapter Nine
“Mama!” As clear as a bell, the word burst forth from Karen’s lips as Leah entered the kitchen door. From behind her, she heard the indrawn breath of the man who followed her.
“Mama,” the baby chortled, her plump arms waving as she sat in the middle of the kitchen floor.
“I told her that Mama would be home soon, and she picked up one word from my whole long lingo,” Ruth said cheerfully from where she stood, stirring a kettle on the stove. “She’s been calling for you ever since.”
Leah’s heart beat rapidly as she bent to pick up the child, wrapping her in her arms and dropping numerous kisses against the pale curls. “Did you miss me, sweetkins?” she crooned.
“Will you help carry in the rest of your packages, Leah?” Gar asked from the doorway, where he had just eased his two parcels to the floor.
She swung her head to look at him. Gar was glaring at the child she held, as if she were foreign to him, and Karen, totally oblivious to the tension that strung tightly between Gar and Leah, waved in his direction.
“Papapa…” Her lips smacked on each syllable, and she squirmed in Leah’s arms, reaching for her father.
“Whoa, now!” Leah admonished, shifting her grip lest the wriggling child cause her to lose her hold.
Gar stepped closer, lifting Karen into his arms. “Did you behave for Ruth, little girl?” He turned his back on Leah, speaking next to the woman who had spent half the day with his children.
“Thank you for watching her, Ruth. We did not mean to b
e so long.”
“Saturday in town is always busy,” Ruth answered. “It always takes extra time with so many folks around and about.” She gave the contents of the kettle a final stir and placed the spoon on the edge of the stove. “I thought you’d be hungry, Leah, being gone from home so long. I made you some soup with that ham bone you had in the cooler.”
“Thank you, Ruth.” For a moment, Leah felt almost a stranger in her own house. Anyone could cook a pot of soup. Gar was proficient at handling his daughter, and it seemed the only thing left for her to do was carry in the last two bundles of supplies she had purchased at the store.
She walked past Gar and across the porch. Her feet felt heavy as she trod the stairs to the yard and shuffled through the grass to where the wagon stood. The parcels were heavy and she lifted them from the wagon, only to lower them to the ground in order to get a better grip.
“I should not have spoken harshly. I’ll take them.” His voice was gruff. “Take the baby from me, Leah.”
She shook her head. “You asked me to bring in the rest. I can do it, thank you.” With barely a glance in his direction, she slipped her fingers under the string and hoisted the bundles, walking back toward the house.
From the barn, Kristofer’s clear voice rang out a greeting, and she turned her head. “Miss Leah, wait up! I’ll help you!” He was a blur of blue shirt and dark trousers as he ran toward her, his smile eager and welcoming.
“Pa! We got all the frame built and the stalls are ready for the boards,” he said to his father. “I been workin’ hard all day with Benny.”
His warm, agile fingers slid in to lift the weight of Leah’s burden from her left hand and he laughed as they carried the package between them. “Wow, you musta had a long list today, Miss Leah. Did we get any candy?” His blue eyes were hopeful as he reached for the screen door, his fingers closing around the spool that served as a handle.
The Midwife Page 12
