Matty turned pink, and her three sisters laughed aloud at the memory of Matty’s ungraceful introduction to Jim. When she could make herself heard, Matty spoke. “I’m thankful for Corrie’s continued good health.”
Corrie thought she heard a quiet, masculine-sounding “amen” from Luke’s place beside her. “I’m grateful that God has given Matty the joy of marriage and the four of us a place to live,” she said.
Bess spoke next. “I’m thankful the four of us are able to continue to be together and that we’ve come to a place where women’s opinions matter.”
There was a pause until Luke prompted gently, “Bertie?”
Bertie looked at her hands in confusion then at each of her sisters before speaking. “I’m glad, too, that we’re together and that Corrie is okay.”
“I think we’re all in agreement on that, Bertie,” Luke replied. “I’m also grateful God sent the four of you to share our home for as long as He leaves you with us. I know I’m stuck with Matty for the rest of her life, but I hope the other three of you never feel you have to be in a hurry to leave here. Our home is your home for as long as you like.” His words addressed the three of them, but his gaze never left Corrie’s.
“Thank you, Luke,” Bess responded, saving Corrie the trouble of forming a reply that wouldn’t embarrass her. “Now, Jim, if you wouldn’t mind asking the blessing so we can eat before the food gets cold.”
Corrie grinned to herself. Emotion would never get out of hand with Bess around to remind them all of practicalities. Jim’s prayer was short, as usual, and then the serving dishes began to make their way around the table. Corrie felt she couldn’t possibly do justice to all the wonderful food. She took just a dab of this and a bit of that, hoping to be able to sample everything. Still, she felt uncomfortably full by the time the meal ended. The babies had grown so big that her stomach didn’t have room for much more than a snack. In a couple of hours, she’d be hungry again.
Luke carried her back to the parlor, and Matty followed them. “How are you feeling, Corrie? Not too tired?”
“I think I’m ready for a rest,” Corrie admitted, “but, no, not too tired. It’s been wonderful being back with the family.”
“It’s been wonderful having you back,” Matty assured her with a hug. “Now just don’t overdo so we can keep you here.”
By the time Luke carried her upstairs that evening, Corrie felt ready for the quiet of her room. It had been a day full of fun, laughter, and family togetherness, but her very bones felt tired. Her back ached. Her stomach still felt overstretched from lunch. She let Matty help her into a sleeping gown; then she settled gratefully into bed. But sleep didn’t come easily or linger long. She kept feeling Luke’s arms around her. Had she ever felt such safety in Brian’s embrace? She tried to recall a time Brian had carried her, but no such memory surfaced to banish the memory of Luke’s arms. Was she falling in love with the gentle-eyed rancher? Had she loved Brian as truly as she ought if she could replace him so quickly?
It took Matty only a single glance the next morning to declare Corrie bedridden for another day. “We must have worn you out, dear one,” she said. “Your eyes look like burnt holes in a blanket.”
Corrie didn’t object. While she doubted how much sleep she’d get, she needed time alone to get her emotional bearings again. After a restless nap, she turned once more to John’s Gospel and to the verses that had first caught her attention. “Let not your heart be troubled … I will not leave you comfortless….” The words brought peace, if not physical comfort.
It seemed no matter how she lay on the bed, her back ached. When Matty brought lunch, Corrie refused it. “I feel like if I eat anything, I’ll throw up.”
Matty’s eyebrows knit with what Corrie termed her “doctor frown.”
“Any cramps?”
“No, but my back aches miserably.”
Matty helped Corrie turn onto her side, facing the wall, then rubbed the lower part of her spine. “Right here?”
“Ahhh, yes,” Corrie breathed. But the relief didn’t last long. “Oooh, now that hurts worse.”
Matty instantly stopped rubbing Corrie’s back, moving her hands to Corrie’s arm instead, where she stroked gently. “How about if I get a hot pack?”
Luke was just finishing his second cinnamon roll after lunch when Matty came back downstairs from taking lunch to Corrie. A single look at her face put knots of tension in his shoulders. “She’s having trouble again?”
Matty nodded. “Bess, we need some tea towels dipped in water as hot as you can stand, then wrung out. Luke and Jim, we need the water reservoir on the stove filled, as well as a large potful to heat on the stove.” She studied Bertie for a moment, as if deep in thought. “Bertie, I need you to go through what’s left of the flour sacks. We’re going to need lots of cloths, so I’ll need you to take the seams out. Choose patterns that we can’t do much with. That purple one would be a good start.”
Through the haze of his concern, Luke was glad to see Bertie’s eyes brighten. Apparently, all she needed was to feel useful. He pushed back from the table, pocketing the remnant of his cinnamon bun. He’d lost interest in eating it, but Ramon usually enjoyed the table scraps he sneaked out of the house for him. On the way to the pump, he tossed the bun to the dog, who gobbled it. With energy brought on by worry, Luke had two buckets filled with water before Jim joined him. No words were exchanged as the brothers passed one another. Luke read in his brother’s eyes the same concern he felt.
Once inside the kitchen, though, he found Matty waiting for him. “I need you upstairs.”
Undeniable fear gripped him. “What’s wrong?”
A skeleton of a smile crossed her face. “Corrie’s asking for you. It may not be socially acceptable, but if your being there will help keep her calm, I won’t stand in the way.”
Luke stayed by Corrie’s side throughout the afternoon and long after night fell. He lent his support when she insisted on pacing the hallway and helped Matty keep fresh hot packs against Corrie’s back when she lay down. As the hours passed, Corrie’s discomfort increased. It tore at his heart to hear her moans. When she squeezed his hand until it went numb, he willed the gesture to impart some of her pain to him.
Just as dawn was beginning to lighten the sky, he helped Corrie to her feet once more. She draped her arms over his shoulders and leaned against him as another spasm gripped her. Without warning, a gush of water poured over their feet. Matty instantly banished him from the room. “Go get Bess.”
“Luke!” Corrie’s voice was hoarse.
“He can’t stay, dear one,” Matty informed her tenderly. Though exhaustion ringed her eyes, not a trace of it showed in her tone.
Corrie looked up into Luke’s face as she still clung to him. He marveled that she seemed to draw strength from his presence. He felt the bond between them, even though propriety didn’t yet allow them to acknowledge it aloud. “Corrie,” he whispered, “I’ll stay right outside your room, okay? I won’t stop praying until this is all over.”
She nodded and allowed him to loosen her grip on his shoulders. He and Matty eased her onto the bed, and he left the room quickly before another spasm could take her. If he heard her pain-filled cry, not even his respect for Matty would keep him from fighting to stay by Corrie’s side.
Bess responded instantly to his call. It seemed forever before she came out of the room again, her arms full of sodden-looking clothing. “Matty says it shouldn’t be long now,” she whispered. In moments, she reappeared, this time carrying a chair. Without comment, she positioned the chair outside Corrie’s doorway then vanished back downstairs.
Luke couldn’t have said whether minutes or hours passed. The chair stood watch as he paced the length of the hallway, sending wordless appeals from his heart to his heavenly Father. All at once, his absorption was broken by a small cry, hardly louder than Rhubarb’s kittens. Then Matty appeared in the doorway, bearing a hastily wrapped bundle. “Take her, quick, and call Bess to c
ome clean her up.” She vanished back into the bedroom and closed the door.
He peered down at the squalling infant barely filling his two hands together. What could he possibly know about how to hold a baby? The thought had only a moment to register before the tiny eyes fluttered open. They gazed at him without recognition or focus, but Luke fell instantly in love. “So you’re a girl, Matty said,” he murmured, tucking the little one closer to his chest. “Welcome to the Rough Cs. You’re most welcome here, little princess.”
Before he reached the head of the stairs, Bess came barreling up, taking them two at a time. He wanted to grin at the uncharacteristic behavior, then at the joy of what he held in his hands, then at anything at all. “Matty say she’s a girl and to get you to clean her up.”
Bess reached for the baby. “Where’s Matty? Is Corrie okay?”
Luke suddenly recalled Matty’s haste in returning to the bedroom. Fear seared him once again. “I don’t know. She seemed—”
The squalling of the infant Bess held suddenly became amplified. It took him a moment to realize a second cry had joined the first. Bess understood first. “Twins?” she asked, her voice cracking with amazement. “It’s obviously a family thing.” She headed down the stairs with her little bundle while Luke hurried to respond to Matty’s second appearance in the doorway.
“Twin girls,” she announced, surrendering the second bundle to Luke. “Ask Bess to get her cleaned up, too, then bring them back for Corrie to see right away.”
“Is Corrie okay?” This time Luke’s attention wasn’t going to be stolen by feminine wiles, no matter how tiny or inexperienced.
Matty smiled broadly. “She is. She’s tired but in good shape.”
Relief flowed through him so strongly he felt his legs tremble. Matty placed her hands beneath his as he held the baby. “Careful, don’t drop her. When you bring the babies back, I’ll let you see Corrie for yourself.”
It seemed to take forever for Bess to get the little ones cleaned up and wrapped in blankets. He held the first as she took care of the second. Then she placed the second little one in his other arm. He relished the armful. “Go ahead,” Bess said, her eyes shining. “You deserve the honor of delivering them both to their mama.”
He’d never taken the stairs so carefully yet so joyously. The longer he held these little ones, the more he felt his heart being overtaken by them. He’d witnessed birth many times in the barn, but nothing could compare to the wonder of the human life he held.
Matty held the door open for him as he approached. Then he was beside Corrie’s bed, where somehow he managed to kneel in spite of his cherished burden. Her face was still lined with the agony and effort of the night, but she’d never looked more beautiful to him. “Corrie, I’d like you to meet your daughters,” Matty said as she helped him lay first one, then the other, on Corrie’s chest. She looked down at the babies, radiance replacing the night’s imprint on her features. “They’re beautiful,” she whispered. “Twins, just like us, Tilde. Thank you.” She looked first at her sister then held Luke’s gaze for a long moment. “Thank you, too.” Her attention returned to her daughters. Luke slipped out of the room and made his way quickly outside to the barn. He needed privacy before the tears of relief, joy, and love escaped.
Chapter 9
Corrie floated for days on the euphoria of love for her babies, whom she named Brianne and Madeline, after their father and their aunt. Though her body was sore and unbroken sleep seemed but a distant memory, she couldn’t get enough of watching them, touching them, feeding them, caring for them. She had no idea how she would have managed without the ready assistance of her sisters. They kept the never-ending pile of laundry from taking over her room, brought her meals, and cuddled one fussy baby while she nursed the other.
In the evenings, she ventured downstairs. There she found both Jim and Luke eager to take their turns with the babies. She turned to mush inside every time she saw one of the big ranchers so tenderly cradling one of her daughters. One night she caught tears in Matty’s eyes as Jim cooed to Madeline. Though Matty had a tender heart, she was rarely moved to tears. Was something amiss? Corrie studied her twin and decided the little ones had turned them all to mush.
Almost before she could catch a breath, Christmas arrived. The celebration wasn’t the rollicking noisy time she remembered from her childhood, but the quietness of it suited her mood this year. She was surprised to find that each of her sisters had made gifts for her daughters as well as for her. Matty and Bess had sewn her loose, front-opening dresses. Each garment came with a belt, which would pull in some of the fullness as she regained her figure. They’d also sewn a pile of baby nightgowns, which they presented, wrapped in two soft blankets.
“Wherever did you get such soft fabric?” Corrie asked as she fingered the edges. Matty and Bess exchanged smiles. “We bought it before we left Rhode Island,” Matty explained, “knowing you’d need baby-type Christmas presents. There’s enough fabric left for two larger blankets for when they’re older.”
Bertie had carved a lovely wooden plaque with the babies’ names and birth dates. “That’s all I had time to do,” she explained. “I hope you don’t mind having them share it.”
Corrie embraced her younger sister, touched by the uncertainty in her eyes. “It’s a perfect gift, Bertie. I’ll treasure it always.”
She hadn’t noticed Luke leave the room, but now he appeared, lugging a large, burlap-wrapped object. “My present is mostly for the babies, but I hope you’ll like it, too.” He set it in front of her.
Corrie slowly pulled the burlap away. “Ohhhh,” she breathed in wonder, running her fingers over an intricately carved wooden cradle. “It’s even wide enough for both of them.”
He grinned. “I did have to expand it after they arrived. Now that winter is here, I plan to make another so they can each have their own bed when they’re too big to share this one. For now, though, I thought they’d be happier sleeping together.”
Her eyes filled with the tears that never seemed far away. She’d noticed the girls did prefer to sleep not only together, but touching one another. That he’d so accurately perceived her children’s needs touched her more deeply than his ever-present concern for her. As she blinked away the tears, she noticed a cutout carving at one end of the cradle. Four intertwined hearts. She counted them again to be sure the tears hadn’t warped her vision. Four.
She looked into his eyes. His steady gaze held hers, and she knew. As always, he wouldn’t press his suit. The cradle was his declaration just the same. If she wanted his heart, he was ready to give it. Not just to her, but to all three of them. She smiled her thanks then held out her arms for her babies, who were being cuddled by Bess and Bertie. “Time for mama and babies to have a rest.” Her emotions had suddenly become too much for her, strangling her thoughts. She needed to get away to collect herself.
“May I bring the cradle up?” Luke asked softly.
She nodded and then made her way upstairs. It took a bit of shifting around to get the furniture arranged in such a way that she wouldn’t bang her legs on something every time she moved, but eventually they found a solution. She settled the sleeping little ones in their new bed and nudged the rocker with her foot to set it in motion. “It’s beautiful, Luke. Thank you.”
“I enjoyed making it,” he answered softly, one large finger tracing the hearts as the cradle rocked.
When the door thumped closed behind him, somehow his gentle presence lingered behind.
As the New Year unfolded, the babies grew and Corrie regained her strength. She delighted in returning to the routine of the family life the six of them had established. Her life still centered around the babies, but there was always an extra pair of arms ready to cuddle them while she finished kneading a batch of bread or baking a panful of cookies.
Her connection with her twin didn’t suffer either. Though no one else commented on it, she noticed Matty’s pallor in the mornings. Sensing what might be the trouble,
Corrie did her best to make sure coffee was ready before Matty came downstairs so she wouldn’t have to smell it being prepared. If there were meats to fry or other strong-smelling foods to prepare, she did what she could to relieve Matty of the chore. She wondered when Matty would be ready to announce her happy news to the rest of the family.
In addition, there was always an undercurrent of awareness shimmering between her and Luke. Their gazes often locked over the supper table or across the room. She no longer wore her mourning brooch because it tended to get in the way while she was feeding the little ones. Somehow she didn’t miss its weight.
One evening in early February, Corrie stood at the sink washing supper dishes. The chatter of the family swirled around her, and she reveled in it. She just was happy tonight, and it felt good after so many months of mourning and uncertainty. Bess sat at the end of the table with Brianne in her arms. Luke sat beside her, holding Madeline.
“Aren’t you just the prettiest girls,” Bess cooed. “You look just like your daddy, but you’re still pretty, pretty, pretty. Your hair is curly like his, and you have his twinkly eyes.”
Embarrassment and shame sliced into Corrie like twin knives. She hadn’t noticed the resemblance, but now that Bess mentioned it, how could she have missed it? She hadn’t been looking for their similarity to Brian. She’d been so caught up in the pink haze of her attraction to Luke, she’d not even considered her daughters’ father, the one whose love had helped bring them into being. Hot tears filled her eyes as she rinsed the last few dishes and placed them on the counter to dry. Then, still blinking back the tears, she gathered Madeline and Brianne into her arms and carried them to her room. Tears dripped on their little heads as she nursed them and on their bellies as she changed their diapers. When she settled them into the cradle, she reached for her brooch on the bureau, and her weeping began in earnest.
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