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Natasha's Dream

Page 22

by Heather Greenis


  “This couldn’t possibly be my Hope. Where is Hope Elizabeth Victoria Donovan?” he asked. “Is she hiding under all that dirt?”

  Hope giggled and squirmed until she was given a big hug. With his grandchild in his arms, Willard walked around the property, praising their accomplishment. Exhausted, Natasha was thankful to see his family depart as afternoon stretched into evening. Stewart bathed their daughter as she prepared the evening meal. After dinner was done and Hope was safely asleep, Natasha crawled into bed, struggling to keep her eyes open.

  Natasha woke the following morning, dressed, and hurried out to the vegetable garden. Disappointed filled her being. There was nothing but black earth and the markers from the previous day. She crouched, feeling around the dirt in search of life.

  “You must be patient,” Stewart informed her.

  She looked over her shoulder. Stewart was standing by the door with Hope in his arms, both in their sleeping attire.

  “It will take time before the sprouts appear.”

  “Tomorrow?” she asked hopefully.

  “Nay. At least a week. Perhaps longer.”

  “A week?” Natasha queried.

  “Be patient. They will grow,” he assured her before returning indoors.

  * * *

  Two days later, Natasha sat under the tree at the pond, with Hope by her side. Stewart sat on the dock with his feet dangling in the water.

  “Natasha, the water feels so refreshing. Join me for a swim.”

  “We cannot leave Hope now that she is crawling and attempting to walk.”

  “It is time for our daughter to be introduced to the pond. She shall learn to swim.”

  Natasha chuckled. “Hope is too young for the water. She doesn’t own clothing that is suitable.”

  “Our child shall enter the water as she entered this world, naked,” he replied.

  Natasha’s jaw dropped. Her book tumbled onto the ground. She glared at Stewart. “She shall not!”

  Stewart stood and walked into the cottage. He returned a few minutes later, dressed to enter the water. Approaching their daughter, he proceeded to remove her cream-coloured dress. Natasha watched in horror.

  “Stewart, no. It is not proper.”

  “Natasha, hush. You’ll upset Hope. Our daughter will not be seen. We are alone here,” he assured her.

  He removed the diaper. Natasha covered her face with her hands. Stewart had the audacity to chuckle. Mortified, she tilted her head toward the heavens. “Please do not allow Nanny or the twins to arrive and see this spectacle.”

  She peeked between her fingers. Stewart waded into the water with Hope in his arms. She heard Hope giggle as the water touched her toes. Natasha’s hands dropped to her sides. She couldn’t restrain a smile at the child’s obvious enjoyment.

  “Join us,” Stewart pleaded.

  Unable to argue the obvious fact that Hope was enjoying the experience, Natasha ran inside to change. Once in the water, she reached for Hope. Stewart immersed himself. He swam to the other end of the pond and then worked his way back. A few feet from them, Stewart dove under the surface. Hope began twitching and giggling just before he resurfaced.

  “I was tickling her toes,” he admitted to his wife.

  Natasha began bobbing Hope in and out of the water, going a little deeper each time. Her little facial expressions were priceless. When the water touched her chin, a shocked expression came over the child’s face. As the water touched her mouth, Hope whimpered. Stewart began making faces, and the whimpers turned to giggles. Her little mouth opened, and Hope received her first taste of pond water. The child frowned and wiped at her mouth with a tiny hand.

  “You must keep your mouth closed, Hope,” Natasha informed her.

  After spending more than an hour in the water, Hope struggled to keep her eyes open. Natasha handed their daughter to Stewart, reached for the towel and bundled their little girl.

  Hope was fed and put onto a blanket to sleep. Natasha and Stewart enjoyed a romantic picnic before returning to the water, always keeping an eye on their sleeping angel.

  Stewart was floating on his back, gazing at the moon and stars when Natasha swam up to him. She spoke softly in his ear as she unfastened the belt of his swimwear. Loosened, she yanked the pants down to his knees. Stewart’s butt sank below the surface. He kicked off the offending garment.

  “I have missed my spontaneous, spunky friend,” he admitted.

  “It is my hope you are willing to be more than a friend,” she teased, leaning toward him. “I wish to enjoy the company of my romantic, frisky husband.”

  “Now?” he asked, his eyes sparkling.

  “Hope is sleeping.”

  Stewart pulled her body to him, ripping her swimwear as he pulled it off.

  “Not in the water, Stewart,” she groaned. She pulled back from his touch. “We shall surely drown.”

  “With a smile upon our faces.”

  “They will locate our nude bodies at the bottom of the pond. Hope shall be orphaned, or die in her attempt to locate her momma and poppa.”

  “We shall move to the blanket,” he muttered, obviously disappointed.

  Scooping Natasha up in his arms, he carried her out of the pond and laid her on the blanket under the tree. The stars sparkled overhead as Stewart made love to her. Exhausted and fulfilled, she fell asleep wrapped in his arms.

  * * *

  Natasha woke with the full moon illuminating the night. The stars twinkled above her. With her back snuggled into Stewart’s chest and his arm snugly around her, she smiled recalling the intimacy of the night.

  Memories of Hope in the water filled her mind. She glanced toward the spot where their daughter was sleeping. Straining her eyes, she couldn’t see Hope or her blanket. Her heart stopped for a moment before pounding uncontrollably. Her chest tightened. She couldn’t breathe. How could we be so careless? Where is our child? Is Hope’s little body lying at the bottom of the pond? She sat up, searching for their daughter, scrambling with frantic hands over the grass.

  “Natasha?” Stewart rolled over. “What’s the matter?”

  Natasha turned her focus to the pond. There was a dark object floating on top. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! My baby is dead. “Hope! No!”

  “Hope is asleep,” Stewart mumbled, sitting up.

  He wasn’t looking at all. He assumed she was safe, but she wasn’t sleeping under the tree. She was gone. “No,” she cried, “My baby. She’s dead. Look!” She pointed. “She’s floating in the pond!”

  Stewart gripped her forearm.

  “Natasha, listen to me,” he begged. He pointed behind her. “Hope is right here.”

  Natasha turned and looked. Her daughter was lying adjacent to their heads, whimpering. Oh, thank God, she’s safe. She’s alive. Natasha sobbed in relief. Stewart reached over and rubbed the baby’s back.

  “Shh. Go to sleep, sweetheart,” he whispered to reassure the child. “We love you, Hope.”

  Releasing a big sigh, Hope’s breathing settled. She drifted back to sleep. Stewart embraced Natasha, holding her head against his bare chest.

  “I love you, and our daughter. I’d risk my life to ensure my family is safe,” he reminded her. “Even as we lay together, I glanced toward Hope to ensure she continued sleeping. Once you were asleep, I moved Hope closer.”

  “I saw something in the pond.”

  “Our swimwear is still in the water,” he reminded her. “I’ll retrieve the clothing in the morning.”

  Of course. Their lovemaking began in the pond. Natasha shook her head, furious with herself for overreacting. Stewart was such a caring, loving father, she should have known he would remain mindful of their child.

  “I was frightened. I love our little girl. I love you.”

  “As do I.” He yawned. “I need more sleep. We need sleep.”

  * * *

  Hours later, Natasha woke to Hope’s chattering. Opening her eyes, she saw the baby lying on her stomach looking at her.
>
  “Good morning, Hope.” She sighed, still exhausted from their late night. The chattering and gurgling continued. Natasha brought her finger to her lips.

  “Shh. We don’t want to wake Poppa.”

  Hope reached over and placed her fingers on her momma’s nose. Natasha pushed Stewart’s hand off her shoulder, covered herself, and sat upright. Leaving Stewart covered and sleeping, she picked up her daughter and walked into the cottage.

  A half hour later, Natasha, in her dressing gown and shawl, sat feeding Hope when Stewart entered the kitchen with a blanket wrapped around his body.

  “I’m exhausted,” he informed her.

  “As am I, but our child woke hungry.”

  “It is pleasing to know she is well-rested.”

  “I intend to rest when Hope has a nap,” Natasha responded. She covered her mouth, hiding her yawn.

  “Shall I put her down now?” he asked glancing toward their room. “Our bed looks inviting.”

  She smiled and continued feeding their daughter.

  Dear Diary,

  Stewart took Hope into the water….

  * * *

  Three days after their romantic escapade, Natasha and Stewart were in the parlour when Nanny and the twins arrived for a visit. Hope squirmed from Natasha’s lap as Stewart welcomed them into the room. Once her feet touched the floor, Hope took her first step before falling to the floor, speeding toward Marcus on her hands and knees.

  “Stewart, did you see?” Natasha asked.

  “Indeed.”

  Marcus lifted Hope and gave her a snuggle.

  “This child will be unstoppable,” Nanny proclaimed once Hope was congratulated.

  * * *

  That Sunday, after Hope was tucked in for a nap, Stewart and Natasha waved goodbye to Nanny, Marcus, and Joshua, and returned indoors to visit with the recently arrived Donovans. Stewart sat on the sofa beside Eliza.

  “If you would be so kind, I would appreciate if you would go shopping for an item for Natasha. She requires a new outfit for the water.”

  “Of course. But I’m not accustomed to shopping for personal items for Natasha. Nanny usually acquires those items.”

  Heat penetrated Natasha’s face. She hurried into the nursery to check on Hope. Neither she nor Stewart possessed the nerve to speak to Nanny about the ruined garment that had only been purchased the previous month. Having pulled the blinds in the nursery, the room was dark. Natasha stood by the bed and listened as the conversation continued in the other room.

  “I realize that,” Stewart admitted.

  “Natasha was with child when I shopped for her wedding gown. I require a size.”

  Stewart groaned and walked into the bedroom to retrieve the item in question. Returning to the parlour with the torn, barely worn suit, he handed it to Eliza. Natasha covered her eyes in shame. Willard chuckled.

  “If you were able to disguise those sparkling eyes, we would not be assuming the cause of the tear. I look forward to being informed I will be papa to another baby.”

  Stewart’s face turned bright red. He cleared his throat.

  “It would please me to become a poppa to another, but I wish for the ability to complete my education and gain employment so I can support my family.”

  “That is not an unreasonable goal,” Willard said.

  It was difficult hearing Stewart express those desires. She understood his need to support her and Hope. It was the expectation of the head of the household. Unfortunately, there was nothing normal about a life in hiding.

  * * *

  Natasha took Hope by the hand and wandered outside. A multitude of green sprouts were visible against the dark earth. She pulled up the skirt of her blue dress and squatted for a better look. Mimicking her, Hope squatted at her side.

  “Hope,” she said with excitement, “our vegetables are growing.”

  Hope reached out and grabbed a handful of dirt, taking two small sprouts into her fists. Aghast, after waiting so long to see signs of growth, the delicate plants were broken. She gasped. She covered her eyes with her hands. “Sweetheart,” she admonished her daughter. “No, you mustn’t do that.” She pried the tiny seedlings from the chubby fists and replanted them.

  Stewart appeared at her side and lifted Hope into his arms.

  “Come with Poppa, Hope. We shall give Momma an opportunity to admire her garden.”

  Natasha surveyed the tidy rows in search of more seedlings.

  Dear Diary,

  The seeds have begun to grow. I love my life….

  * * *

  Every morning, Natasha took Hope by the hand and walked around the garden to pick a fresh bouquet of flowers for their table. She always stopped to admire the growing plants.

  “Stewart, the plants have little flowers.”

  “That is a good sign. Eventually, those flowers will bear vegetables.”

  “What is happening to the plants without flowers?”

  “The vegetable is growing under the ground. Be patient.”

  Stewart was correct. Nature is amazing. The vegetables are growing from the flower.

  She watched the growth daily in amazement. Eventually, they would eat these items that began as small seeds.

  Once their harvest was ready, Stewart’s momma arrived to assist. It took a few days before the job was complete, but Natasha was thrilled with the results. “I have become a gardener,” she gloated to Stewart.

  “Indeed you have. A fine gardener.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Hope’s first birthday was celebrated at the cottage. The baby crawled among her family, happy to be the centre of attention. She played in the pond with Vicki, Marcus, Joshua, and Stewart as Nanny, Eliza, Willard, and Natasha watched. Hope loved playing with her Uncle Marcus. She giggled as he lifted her out of the water, holding her above his head.

  “My goodness, Hope. You’re flying like a bird!” Natasha laughed as she sat in the shade under the tree. “Marcus will make a good poppa,” she informed Nanny. “Hope loves his company.”

  After the meal, to Hope’s delight, her nana appeared with a chocolate cake. Hope was soon covered from head to toe. When it was time to leave, Nanny and the twins followed the Donovans away from the cottage. Looking at her daughter, it would be a challenge to transport her indoors without leaving a trail of cake along the way.

  “I shall bring her sleeping attire outside while you remove her clothing and take her into the water. I will assist to remove the cake from those long blonde curls.”

  “A swim in the nude?” Stewart asked. “I’m shocked, Momma, and proud of you for suggesting it.”

  With Hope settled for the evening, Stewart and Natasha sat on the love-seat and toasted their daughter’s first birthday with a glass of wine. Natasha held Stewart’s hand and pulled him to the centre of the floor.

  “Dance with me.”

  She hummed the beginning of a tune, encouraging Stewart to join her. They were only dancing a few minutes when Hope’s whimper stopped them. Stewart excused himself and went to investigate. He returned with their baby in his arms.

  “Our daughter would like to join us as we dance,” he said.

  “She’s jealous knowing Momma is in her poppa’s arms.”

  Soon, Hope fell asleep with her head resting against his chest. Stewart placed her into her bed and returned to the parlour.

  “I’m jealous,” Natasha whispered, looking into her husband’s eyes. “Are you willing to meet my demands as well?”

  “Indeed I am.”

  “Lie with me.”

  He lifted her into his arms.

  Dear Diary,

  We celebrated Hope’s birthday….

  * * *

  Stewart and Natasha stood at arm’s length in the pond, placing Hope on her belly between them. With the first kick, she splashed water, giggled, and began to sink. Both Stewart and Natasha reached to keep her head above the surface.

  “She’s her momma’s daughter,” Stewart chuckled when he h
eard the giggle. “I’m reminded of the game of tug-of-war at the orphanage. You were unable to concentrate when you laughed.”

  “Oh, but the goal to have your arms around me was successful,” she reminded him.

  “I shall spend eternity holding you.”

  Dear Diary,

  I cherish the thought of another child. Hope has brought such joy to our lives….

  * * *

  Friday afternoon, Willard and Eliza brought weekly supplies to the cottage and left Vicki and Goldie to spend the weekend with Stewart and Natasha. Saturday morning, Natasha and Stewart were at the pond with Hope when Vicki ran out of the cottage to join them.

  “Hope requires proper attire,” she declared. “She should not be naked for all to see. We were properly dressed as children when in the company of others.”

  “Your brother has refused to listen,” Natasha informed her sister-in-law. She stood by the edge of the pond, hands on her hips glaring at her husband. “If she becomes too accustomed to swimming in the nude, she will believe it is acceptable and continue the practice as an adult.”

  “Her husband shall be fortunate indeed,” Stewart responded with a grin and a wink.

  Both Natasha and Vicki glared at him. Stewart laughed, lowered Hope to the ground, and led her into the water.

  Eliza got busy sewing and arrived the following weekend with two swimwear garments suitable for the baby.

  “These should fit Hope,” Eliza said as she removed the clothes from the bag and showed them to Natasha. With Hope attired in her new outfit, Stewart led their daughter toward the water.

 

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