Rekindled

by Tamera Alexander

  When the conversation turned to her deceased husband, Kathryn deftly turned the topic of conversation back to Barton. To the man’s credit, he seemed sensitive to her move and didn’t push. Regardless, Larson kept looking for something to dislike in him.

  Hannah stood and started clearing the dishes. Kathryn did likewise.

  Lilly tugged on Larson’s sleeve. “Mr. Jacob, do you want to come see my pony out back? I named her Honey because she’s so sweet.” Lilly giggled.

  “Sure, I’d love to see her.”

  Michael Barton rose. “Mrs. Jennings,” he said a bit too quickly. He looked down at the table, then back to Kathryn. “Would you like to take a walk with me? I could show you my law offices just around the corner. It’s not too far.”

  An awkward silence followed. Larson read the expressions around the table. Sincere surprise lit the Carlsons’ faces, and Kathryn’s as well. Except he saw a hint of empathy in hers.

  Barton’s face reddened as the pause lengthened. “Perhaps another time would be better.”

  Kathryn gave him a genuine smile. “Actually, Mr. Barton, let me help Hannah with these dishes and then a walk would be nice. Perhaps Bobby could join us too?”

  Barton noticeably relaxed. “Yes, ma’am. That’d be fine.”

  Half an hour later, Larson leaned on the top rail of the fence outside the corral and watched the two of them walk side-by-side down the street, Bobby running on ahead. Admittedly, Kathryn and Michael Barton made a striking couple. He turned his attention to Lilly, who sat astride her new pony.

  Lilly had a natural rhythm as she rode, especially for one so young, except she tended to lean forward too much. “Keep your feet down,” he tried to call to her, but his voice wouldn’t sustain the effort. He’d made do without Abby’s tea over the last few weeks, but wished he’d asked her for the ingredients so he could make more.

  “I take it you haven’t told Kathryn your secret?”

  Larson’s heart misfired at the question. Patrick took a place at the fence beside him, but Larson didn’t dare look at the man.

  “As intuitive as they think they are”—Patrick waved at Lilly as she rode past—“sometimes women just don’t see what’s right in front of them.”

  Larson finally turned and stared at his friend, wondering how Patrick could approach this so casually. How had Patrick learned about him? Could Larson convince him to keep his secret? “Listen, Patrick, I don’t know how you found out, but I guarantee you I have my reasons for handling things like this. I beg you not to say anything to Kathryn. She’s better off this way. We both are.”

  Patrick shook his head, smiling. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, my friend. Have you ever noticed the way Kathryn looks at you? I don’t know if she’s even aware of it herself. I thought I saw something at the picnic but wasn’t sure, but I definitely saw her stealing glances at you during dinner today. I dare say Kathryn Jennings is far more interested in you than that successful young lawyer.”

  Realizing he’d misunderstood Patrick’s question, Larson’s pulse slowed. “So what you’re saying is that you think I’m interested in Kathryn and that she’s interested in . . . me.” Relief trickled through him. He coerced a laugh and leaned against the fence, thankful for the support. “Kathryn is just staring at the scars, that’s all.”

  Patrick huffed and shook his head. “And I thought you were a man of wisdom.” A smile softened the mild rebuke. “Only a fool denies the truth when it’s clearly set before him, Jacob.” He nodded toward the street. “I’m afraid Michael Barton is a man destined for disappointment.” He clapped Larson on the back. “And you, my friend, need to decide whether Mrs. Kathryn Jennings is worth the risk.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  AWARM AUGUST BREEZE rippled the curtains of the half-opened bedroom window, and Kathryn managed to reposition herself in bed, wishing she could go back to sleep. Her gaze fell on the shadowed contours of the cradle in the corner, an unexpected gift from Miss Maudie earlier that week. The baby blanket Kathryn had knitted was draped over the side, as were two sets of booties she’d finished recently. A sudden movement in her belly got Kathryn’s full attention. Apparently her little one didn’t know it wasn’t dawn yet. Kathryn pushed herself up, then slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed, glad for the convenience of the indoor water closet.

  Today was Friday, and the hours stretched before her unspoiled. Miss Maudie had decided she’d been working too hard and had insisted she take the entire day to rest and relax. Kathryn hadn’t argued. The weight she’d gained in the past month, along with the heat of late summer, made her uncomfortable, but she tried not to complain.

  She lit an oil lamp and sliced pieces of bread and cheese, then sat down at the small breakfast table. Kathryn picked up the letter she’d penned the evening before, fully expecting nothing to come of it. While her father had never openly rejected her, even after her marriage to Larson, his continued lack of initiative to be involved in her life had been deterrent enough. But Kathryn felt certain her mother would have wanted her to give the relationship with her father another try, especially now.

  She sealed and addressed the envelope and tucked it into her Bible. After dressing quickly, she snuffed out the oil lamp, grabbed the Bible and a blanket and left the cottage.

  While she still missed the seclusion of her cabin in the foothills and the beauty belonging to the mountains and the stream, she’d discovered a bluff a short distance beyond the corrals that afforded a semblance of privacy and a spectacular view of the sunrise. It was no more than half a mile away, and Kathryn easily found her way in the pink light of dawn.

  She spread the blanket, sank down, and placed her hands over her unborn child, cradling it as best she could. In little more than a month, she could actually be holding the precious gift. The doctor she’d seen all those months ago had said late September, but Kathryn hoped it would be a little early.

  Lying back on the blanket, she watched the fading smattering of stars gradually surrender their brilliance. Thank you for my relationship with you, Lord. For my child, for a safe home, even for MacGregor’s willingness to loan me the money so I can keep my land.

  She hadn’t spoken with MacGregor since signing the loan papers, and he’d been clear on the point that the agreement was to remain between the two of them—along with Kohlman, who would personally handle the transfer of funds. Kathryn had read through the thick document, but admittedly, some of the legal jargon had gone over her head. MacGregor encouraged her to have an attorney in town review it, and when the lawyer she met with gave his approval, she’d signed. Her child would have a legacy from his father after all.

  As the sun rose, Kathryn continued to count her blessings. But no matter how many times she counted, Jacob kept returning to the list.

  The man remained a mystery to her. Last Sunday on the way home from church, he’d been more talkative than she could remember, which surprised her because he’d been so quiet at the Carlsons’. Except with Lilly. That sweet girl could draw a laugh from him with hardly any effort, and Kathryn loved hearing Jacob laugh.

  A bird trilled a morning song nearby, and Kathryn turned onto her side to lessen the ache that had started in her lower back. Jacob was so different from Larson, yet there were similarities. She loved Jacob’s laugh, his gentleness with the stock, his quiet manner . . . and the way he looked at her. Two days ago she’d felt someone’s stare and had turned to see Jacob standing by the corral, watching her. Having been discovered, he’d smiled and waved before disappearing back inside.

  Somehow it felt wrong for her to think of Jacob and Larson in the same breath. She would give anything to have Larson back, but that would never happen. She would see him again some day, she held hope. But not in this life.

  Dawn gradually spilled over the prairie and turned the pewter sky a cloudless blue. Kathryn read for the next hour in the book of John. The words of Jesus drew her in. I am the good shepherd, and know my sheep, and am known of min
e. As the Father knoweth me, even so know I the Father: and I lay down my life for the sheep. “You know me perfectly, Lord. Help me to know you that well.”

  As she read on, she sensed a stirring inside her. My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me: And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand. She liked that thought especially—that no one could snatch her out of His hand. “No matter what happens to me, Lord, you are with me. I may lose everything else—like Larson and our life together—but I will always have you.” After reading a while longer, she decided to head back.

  She stood and bent to gather the blanket. A sudden tightening in her abdomen doubled her over. She sank to the ground, panting. The pain gradually receded but the next one hit seconds later. Gasping, she fisted the blanket in her hands until her knuckles turned white. The tightening eased, but she braced herself for another.

  Nothing came.

  Letting out the breath she’d been holding, she glanced over her shoulder. The roofline of the main house crested above the stables and bunkhouses in the distance. She called out but doubted anyone would hear. Putting a hand to her forehead, she felt the cool layer of perspiration.

  It took her twice as long to walk the short distance back, but at least the cramping didn’t return. She went directly to the stables and heard the sound of feed hitting a tin trough. She spotted him in the last stall, hefting a burlap bag to his shoulder.

  “Jacob?”

  He turned. “Kathryn!”

  The alarm in his voice made her stop. In the dim light, she could almost make out the outline of his eyes. He wasn’t wearing his glasses. She took a step, curiosity driving her forward, but he quickly turned away.

  Jacob dropped the bag and mumbled something Kathryn couldn’t hear. Seconds later he walked from the stall, feed bag in hand, glasses in place. “How are you this morning?” His brow creased as he came closer. “Are you all right? You look pale.”

  “I’m worried about . . . my baby.” Another pain, a small one this time, twinged her abdomen and fear overcame her awkwardness at speaking about such private things. “I went for a walk this morning and started having pains. They’re not as bad now, but I think something may be wrong. I was wondering if you could take me into town to see the doctor.”

  Jacob dropped the feedbag and looked up to the loft. “Gabe!”

  Seconds later, Gabe peered over the railing, smiling. “Morning, Miss Kathryn.”

  “I’m taking Mrs. Jennings into town. Can you take care of things here for a while?”

  “Sure, Jacob. No problem. You take care of Miss Kathryn.”

  Kathryn carefully eased back on the doctor’s table and slipped her hand down and around the full swell of her belly. She whispered a prayer in her heart, assuring her baby that all would be well, then tried to believe it herself.

  “You’ll feel a bit of pressure during the examination, Mrs. Jennings.” Dr. Frank Hadley’s voice heightened the quiet of the small room off of his office. “Try and relax. It’ll be over soon.”

  Kathryn blew out a shaky breath and in the same instant, wondered if he’d say the same thing if he were the one on the table. But at the sudden spasm in her loins, her humor fell away.

  Oh, God, I’m scared. Please don’t let anything happen to my baby.

  She clenched her eyes shut and forced herself to breathe slowly. In and out. In and out. Every muscle in her body seemed to constrict. Concentrate on something else. She thought of Jacob waiting on the other side of the door and felt unexpected comfort. They’d passed the cemetery moments ago on their way into town. If Jacob didn’t mind, she hoped to have some time to visit there before they headed back today. Larson, I wish you were here with me now. To watch our child grow inside me. Then to hold our son or daughter—

  “You may feel a slight twinge now, Mrs. Jennings,” Dr. Hadley said quietly from the end of the table.

  Kathryn winced at the momentary discomfort and felt a tear trail down the side of her temple and into her hairline. After all the years of praying and waiting for a child, this was not as she had dreamed it would be. Instead of her first child’s birth being filled with wonder and hopeful anticipation, fear had swiftly marched in and set up camp in every corner of her heart.

  Nothing can snatch you out of my hand.

  So real was the whisper, Kathryn almost felt the soft breath of it on her face. Her whole body trembled.

  Dr. Hadley’s hands stilled. “Are you all right, Mrs. Jennings?”

  “Yes,” she answered softly, still cherishing the hushed echo of the voice. Yes, I will trust you, Lord. I’m safe in your hands.

  Then a feeling swept through her, one not new to her. Kathryn knew the thought was ludicrous—she’d buried him months ago— but it still felt as though Larson were alive. With everything in her, she could still feel him, see his handsome face, his dark hair curling at the back of his neck, the strong line of his jaw, and those blue eyes that captured her so completely.

  “Please, Mrs. Jennings, you must relax.” The doctor’s voice intoned a firmness it hadn’t before.

  “Yes, sir.” And she tried to comply.

  Though Dr. Hadley’s manner was gentle enough, the necessary intimacies of soon-to-be-motherhood were unnerving and foreign. She’d come to marriage a virgin, and Larson’s touch had been her only experience. He’d been a patient lover, exquisitely gentle, even in the midst of passion.

  The doctor stood. “Have you noticed any bleeding, Mrs. Jennings?”

  Panic tightened Kathryn’s chest. Bleeding? “Is something wrong with my baby, Dr. Hadley?”

  “No, no, your baby is fine, I assure you.” He lightly touched her knee. “But you were right to come in and see me.” With kindness, he leveled his gaze. “Now, has there been any bleeding?”

  Seeing assurance in his eyes, Kathryn calmed. “No, there hasn’t.”

  “Good. I’ll check one more thing, and then we’ll be done.” He reached beneath the sheet and gently probed her upper abdomen.

  The child inside her protested, and Kathryn drew in a breath, marveling again at the miracle of life so quickly overtaking the space inside her. She wondered too, with a brush of fear, what it would be like when the child decided to push its way into the world.

  Finished with his examination, Dr. Hadley crossed the room and washed his hands in the basin. “Would you like me to call your husband in before we talk?”

  Kathryn sat and repositioned the sheet over herself for privacy. “Oh, Jacob’s not my husband,” she corrected. Then seeing the rise of the doctor’s brow, she quickly added, “My husband died earlier this year. Jacob is my friend.” She covered the unborn baby with a hand. “But that’s why this child . . . my husband’s child . . . is especially important to me.”

  Dr. Hadley nodded with understanding, a sad smile turning his mouth. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Jennings, but you needn’t worry about yourself or your child. The pains you experienced this morning are normal. They’re your body’s way of preparing for the baby’s birth. You’re a strong woman in excellent health, and the baby appears to be fine. A strong, healthy heartbeat, and right where he, or she, needs to be for almost eight months along.” He encouraged her to eat plenty to nourish the life inside her and to get ample rest. She could maintain her normal routine but was to rest immediately if fatigued.

  “Well, Mrs. Jennings, if you don’t have any other questions for me, I’ll leave you to dress. I’ll be happy to help deliver your child when the time comes. And if you need anything, please call on me.” He closed the door behind him when he left.

  Kathryn carefully stood and moved behind the screen to dress. Stepping back into her dress, she felt the bulge in her pocket and pulled out the music box. She gently rotated the key on the side and set it on the chair as she finished dressing.

  The fragile notes seemed especially slow, as though the very act of striking the chords inside presented a strain. The music
box wasn’t of the finest quality, but Kathryn hoped the parts weren’t already failing because she played it so often. As she buttoned her bodice, she listened to the tune. Somehow the slower, stuttered syncopation better matched the cadence of her mood today.

  When she emerged from the exam room, she found Jacob standing by the window, waiting for her.

  He stepped forward. “Are you all right? Is the baby . . . ?”

  She smiled. “I’m fine and the baby is too. The doctor said what I experienced was normal.” She looked down. “I’m a bit embarrassed to have made you bring me all the way into town for nothing.”

  “It wasn’t for nothing. We know you’re all right and that your baby is too.”

  Kathryn laid a hand to Jacob’s arm. What a gentle, thoughtful man. “Thank you, Jacob.” When he covered her hand with his, the tingle from his touch moved through her body. Surprised by her response to him, she gently withdrew her hand. “Well, we can head back now, if you’re ready.”

  He paused. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  Concern layered his soft, raspy voice, and Kathryn would have given much to see his eyes at that moment. “Yes, I’m fine, Jacob. Really.”

  He headed to the door, but the sound of one opening behind her drew Kathryn’s attention.

  Dr. Hadley appeared. “Ah, good, Mrs. Jennings, you’re still here. There was one more thing I wanted to tell you. Moderate walks are fine, even encouraged. But please ask someone to accompany you from now on. It wouldn’t do for you to be alone and have a recurrence of what happened this morning. Especially as your time approaches.”

  “Certainly, Doctor. Thank you.”

  Kathryn accepted Jacob’s help into the wagon and noticed a smile tilting the left side of his mouth as he climbed up beside her.