by Jillian Hart
“Have you always liked standing in the rain?”
“You say that as if now you think I don’t have a lick of sense. What about you? You are out here, too.”
“Well, I’m going in.” The haystacks were more than fine, and that was a compliment to her. There was a real knack to it, and he knew plenty of men who couldn’t do as well. “Clyde’s waiting for me to bed him down.”
Rain drummed between them, a thousand drops pinging and pounding all around like a symphony. Funny how he hadn’t noticed all the rich notes of the winds in a long time. He hiked into the barn, glad for the shelter. “I’m sorry about this afternoon. I didn’t know Ma and Noelle would want to come visit and bring gifts. I can’t imagine how fast the two of them had to crochet to get all that made.”
“I suspect they already had a start on the project and finished it for me instead of, perhaps, for one of their bedrooms. Noelle told me her house is only a few months old.”
“Yes, they got married in late spring.” Aiden remembered the hope in his ma’s voice. It is my wish for you both that one day, along with great happiness, you will find great love.
He grimaced. His ma was a dreamer, always had been and would always be. “I had meant to move you and the kids into the house this afternoon.”
“If the mud stays in the field, tomorrow will work out fine. We can move without interfering with your haying.” She swiped the rain off her face. “I thought the children and I could share the room at the top of the stairs. It’s big and roomy, with plenty of sunshine.”
“It’s a sensible solution.” He held his heart still. “I’ve decided to move to the downstairs room. It was meant to be something else, but it would serve as a bedroom well enough.”
“You had intended it to be a children’s playroom for the winter,” she guessed.
He nodded, swallowed hard and stripped off Clyde’s bridle. “That way you have the upstairs all to yourselves. I won’t wake you all when I get up at four-thirty to start the chores.”
“You know I get up to start mine.”
He knew. There were more reasons, which he couldn’t see fit to tell her. “Good night, Joanna. Thank you for all you did for me and my family today.”
“They are my family now, Aiden.” She padded past him in her bare feet, a perfect picture of a country woman in calico and grace. “You are my family, too. Good night.”
What felt like ashes within him, in his heart, in his soul, stirred toward life. He wished he could feel something for her. He wished he had something left inside of him besides the ashes of his heart and the pieces of his soul.
He planned to avoid her in this big house of his, Joanna had guessed, so she wasn’t surprised that his chores were done and he was out in the fields before dawn. While the children played on the doorstep, she whipped up a batch of pancakes, fried eggs and bacon. Because he didn’t come to the table, she packed up the meal with a small jug of tea, and with James and Daisy trailing with her, headed out to the wheat fields.
The earth was moist and muddy in spots, the air fresh from the storm. A flawless sapphire sky glinted overhead, so blue it hurt the eye. She followed the trail along the fence line until she found Aiden in the middle of a field of wheat, chopping down fallen stalks. The stalks of wheat were tall and nearly ripe this time of year. Most waved softly golden in the temperate breezes. There were acres upon acres lost to wind damage. She saw great swaths of downed stalks, stretching from south to north. A grim sight, to be sure. She was thankful for the crop that still stood.
“We’ll stay here,” she told the children, who were ready to walk into the field. “We don’t want to disturb the wheat.”
“Oh.” James hitched his arms over a rail and watched Aiden in the field, the man who was his stepfather now. “He looks awful busy.”
“You know right before harvest is one of the busiest times for a farmer.” She settled the basket on the ground.
“Yep. I know.” He sighed anyway.
Aiden must have spotted her. He set aside his scythe, straightened his hat and began heading her way through the knee-high grain. The gentle sunshine seemed to follow him, making him bigger and brighter than she had ever seen him. Maybe, she realized, that was because she was looking at him with her heart. With a new love that had not been there before.
She lowered her gaze, as if that could lessen her feelings for him, and fumbled with the basket lid. Why her fingers were so clumsy, she couldn’t say. She had to grab the tin cup twice and suddenly Aiden was there, his deep voice rumbling.
“Let me.”
Her heart plummeted to the earth. This was a mistake, she told herself, as she uncapped the pitcher and poured a shaky stream of tea into the cup. She knew too much to fall in love again. But with this man, how could she help it? It was as natural as breathing.
“You are a welcome sight,” he said simply as he took a long sip. “That’s good after an early start.”
“How long have you been out here?”
“It was still dark. I didn’t look at the clock. Worrying about the crop, I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep. So I got up and made myself useful.”
He was tired. She could see the bruises beneath his eyes and the worry etched into his forehead. She unwrapped the clean cloth she’d folded around the food. “We are lucky half the crop was spared.”
“I like to think it was more than luck.” He took off his hat and hung it on the fence post.
She was beginning to think that, too. It was easier to believe when she was with Aiden, rock-solid in his faith. It made what she was beginning to see much clearer. “Do you think Thad and Noelle’s ranch has this damage, too?”
“Hard to say. I’ve done almost all I can until the fields dry up some, so later on, I’ll ride over and see.” He took the plate she offered and bowed his head for a quick blessing.
There was a cowlick at the crown of his head. Why she noticed that, she couldn’t rightly say. There was so much she didn’t know about this man, so many things that she wanted to know and to cherish.
“This looks mighty good,” he said when he was done. “Thank you, Joanna.”
“You’re more than welcome. Is there anything I can do here to help you?”
“No. You come out here and you’ll likely get as muddy as me.” She was a great cook; he had to give her that. The pancakes melted on his tongue. “This hits the spot.”
“I’m glad.” She was already packing up, ready to leave him with that gentle smile she always had on her face these days. “I don’t suppose you had a chance to check the orchard?”
“Nope. I can only hope there’s plenty of fruit left on the trees, as I’m looking forward to fresh pies later this summer.”
“Only if you’re good.” There it was, that flash of mischief in her eyes.
“What does that mean?”
“Just wait. You’ll see.” She settled the basket on her arm, and with the breeze teasing the golden wisps of her hair and the brim of her pink sunbonnet, she could have been a wild summer rose come into bloom. So vibrant, fragile and alive, she pulled at the shadows within him. Made him feel every emptiness and every broken place.
“The three of us will have the upstairs room clean and waiting, whenever you’re ready.” She gave her bonnet brim a tug against the low rays of the rising sun. “I plan to go to Noelle’s this afternoon.”
“We’ll do it before you leave then.” He winced a little. “And I’ll ride over with you.”
“It’s a good plan.” She held out her free hand to Daisy. “I’ll come for the dishes later.”
“Not to bother. I’ll bring them in with me in a bit. I can’t do much more out here.”
“All right.” She wanted to stay and keep him company, but she could see that he was having a hard time. She hated that. She wished she knew what to do for him. “We don’t have to move in with you, Aiden.”
“My wife won’t be living in a shanty if I can provide better.” He pinned her with a firm gaze.<
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He meant it in the best possible way. Joanna could see that plain as day. That still didn’t mean it was easy for him. What a blessed woman his Kate was, to have been loved like that. What an exceptional man Aiden was, to have loved with all he had, down to his soul. Joanna could see the pieces of what was left in him. Her heart swelled even more with affection best kept hidden.
“All right,” she said quietly, ready to go. Her son hadn’t moved an inch. He watched Aiden with more than interest, for surely the boy was old enough to have figured out what yesterday’s ceremony had meant. “Come, James. We need to go.”
There was a question in his eyes. Such a sweet boy he was. She knew what he was too shy to ask. He wanted to stay in the fields and help Aiden, although he was much too little for that. Aiden would have been the kind of father who would take his son with him just to spend time with him, and teach him by his example and kindness.
If only, she thought wistfully. She had no notion if Aiden would ever come to the place where he could be close to his stepson, so she held out her other hand. “Come, James.”
“All right.” He hopped down and ran her way, all little-boy energy. He waited until they were a ways off before he leaned close to whisper, “He’s our pa now, right?”
“He’s your stepfather. Remember I said he and I were married now.” She had explained that when she’d tucked them into bed last night.
Daisy seemed unconcerned, but James pursed his lips, thinking hard. “That’s like a pa.”
“Yes. He’s like having a second father.”
James seemed satisfied. “Then are we going to stay in his house and not leave?”
“Yes, that’s why I married him. So we have a home we never have to leave.”
“That’s sure good. Cuz I don’t want to go back to the wagon.”
“I know, pumpkin.” She didn’t want that for her little ones, either. “We’re here to stay.”
“I like Grandma,” Daisy said, as if that settled it. “She gave me one of her buttons.”
Joanna felt an odd tingle at the back of her neck. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw nothing but a meadowlark hopping onto the fence rail near where Aiden had been standing. She searched the meadow, to find him heading back to work, taking his plate and tea with him.
Even surrounded by the bright fields sprinkled with sunshine, and framed by the vivid blue sky, he somehow looked lost. The sunlight on her face was like a gentle touch, like reassurance, helping her to understand. For so long she had been sure that the Lord had forgotten her. Hardships had wedged their way into her faith, creating rifts that grew larger with every difficulty.
Looking back, maybe she could see the purpose behind every trial that had brought her to stay at her pa’s house, and then the loss of that, too. God had been there all along, gently guiding her here. To Aiden.
Because he needed her.
Chapter Fourteen
“Where do you want this?” Aiden’s voice boomed behind her. He stood in the doorway with the rocking chair hefted easily over his shoulder.
“By the window, please.” She was fully aware that she was a sight. Her skirts were damp and strands of hair had come out of her braid, curling every which way.
She stepped aside to make room, but was hemmed in by the bedstead that had already been in the room, which she and Daisy would share. Then there was the smaller bed Aiden had moved in from one of the spare rooms, left over from when he and his brothers were young.
“Sure thing.” Aiden passed by, brushing against the hem of her skirts as he went.
What a good husband he is, she thought wistfully, watching him as he carefully swung the chair down. He had a perfect profile, with the spill of his dark hair over his high, intelligent forehead, and a straight nose. His chin and jaw were a strong balance to his other chiseled features. Handsome, yes—she surely thought him so—but he was more. He was built of character, and she ached with admiration. With love.
What was she going to do about that? She could no longer hide from it. Love for him filled her as surely as light coming in the window filled the room.
“You could take one of the other rooms.”
“I could,” she agreed. It wasn’t easy trying to hide how she felt. It wasn’t easy knowing her abiding affection for him would cause both of them nothing but grief. She took a step toward the rocking chair, glad that it stood between them like a barrier, creating distance she desperately needed.
She forced herself to look out the window at her little ones playing in the shade of the house, James with his horses and Daisy with her doll.
“You don’t have to all be cooped up in one room.” He sounded gruff, but there were notes of concern there, too, and, as always, his rugged kindness. “That makes it about the same as the shanty.”
“Trust me, this is not the same.” Not with the light yellow wallpaper sprinkled with tiny cornflowers, a fireplace in the corner to warm the space on a cold winter’s night, the polished wood floor and two big windows. “Was this your mother’s room?”
“It was.” Aiden faced the window, too, and seemed to be watching the children at play, although it was hard to tell. He was so distant, as if he were looking in and not out. “Maybe after you settle some and feel comfortable here, you’ll want your children to have rooms of their own. There’s enough for that. Finn won’t be coming back.”
“Maybe he’ll realize the way he’s living his life isn’t right and won’t bring him happiness. Then he will change. It could happen.”
“It could, but I’ve been disappointed hoping in that before. I wish I could have him back. It’s not that I don’t want to.”
“I know.” Even a stranger, someone who didn’t know Aiden at all, could see the anguish on his face. Love and life were such fragile things and could be lost in a blink. Aiden had lost Finn as surely as if he had buried him, too. She could see it plainly. “Maybe there’s still hope for him.”
“Maybe. Pastor Hadly is checking on him as much as he can, and Thad is, as well. Finn is still talking with Thad. That’s something at least. Not that Finn wants to stop having fun, as he calls it.”
Joanna could feel Aiden’s pain. She longed to reach out and lay her hand on his shoulder and somehow absorb some of it. “I don’t think even Finn thinks he’s having fun. He’s escaping from more than the responsibility of working and making a living on this land. He’s escaping life.”
“I won’t argue with you.” Aiden winced. “I know you’re right.”
“You’ve done so much for him. I wish he could see what I do.”
“What’s that?”
“How you want to make things right for him.”
“Now, how do you know that?” He moved away from the window, away from her.
“It’s what I know of you. What I see in you.”
“You seem to know a lot about me.” There were those tangled up feelings again, coiling tight in every empty space. “I guess I’m not so hard to figure out.”
“No, not at all.” There was a smile in her voice and a softness that made him want to turn toward her.
How he wished he could. He fisted his hands, sticking to what was safe, to what was right. “I’m trying to do all I can for him. It’s my duty. It’s what’s right.”
“You always do the right thing.”
“I sure try. Heaven knows I’ve made my share of mistakes.” He wished he could give Finn another chance, but he knew it wouldn’t work. He had to stand firm. He had to let Finn figure out the consequences of his choices, the same as any man. It was the way the Lord intended. A man might have free will, but choosing the easy path was not easy at all. The harder road at first was the easier one in the long run. A man made a lot of mistakes on either path. There seemed to be no help for that other than faith and prayer.
One mistake he hadn’t made was bringing Joanna here. At least he felt good about that. She was wearing her green calico dress today, and he was close enough to see all the careful patch
ing she had done to the garment. Matching the pattern of the sprigged calico took great care. He knew, because his ma had done the same to all of their clothes once, when they were young and times were lean.
“You said you’re doing piecework for Miss Sims?” he asked, his voice coming out more gruffly than he’d meant.
“I will stop by her shop on my way to Noelle’s today, whether you object to my working or not.”
He took in the flash of Joanna’s grin and shook his head. No one had ever before disagreed with him so cheerfully. Or gotten around him quite so easily. He had no notion of how to keep her in check. He had a feeling he never would be able to. Joanna had spirit, one that hardship had not dimmed.
He headed to the door, smiling to himself. “Now, I never said I would object. I only meant to say you will get yourself some new clothes, and for your little ones, too. I won’t be married to a woman with patched dresses.”
“Oh, you won’t?”
His smile stretched a little wider, surprising him. He hadn’t smiled like this in more years than he could count. “I’m putting my foot down. I don’t want to hear any arguments.”
“What if I have plenty of arguments?”
“Too bad. You’ll just have to suffer in silence.” He reached the hall and glanced over his shoulder to make sure she understood what he could not say. “I mean it, Joanna. You’ll do what I say.”
“Oh, you have a lot to learn.” She flipped her braid over her shoulder, as if trying to figure out what to do with a man like him. “Perhaps I’ll do as you ask this once. The children are growing so fast.”
It was a victory of sorts, and he was pleased with that. “There’s something else. There ought to be a few boxes up in the attic. If you want to take the time later on, some of our old toys are crated up. Wooden horses and a barn my grandfather made. Your boy might like ’em.”
“I’m sure he would.”
He turned before he could see her sympathy, but he felt it while he hiked down the hall to his room. Here, he was alone, but no longer safe. He no longer felt as hollow. Without hesitation, he hefted the feather mattress off the bedstead and carried it down the hallway.
