[2016] A Widow's Love

by Christian Michael

  Chapter Seven

  The months in the small town passed slowly. Lillian gradually moved from over eager attempts to draw Doc’s attention to cold indifference. It was autumn now and there was noticeable drop in the temperature, which was a relief for Lillian who was now so big she was struggling to get around. Between her husband’s complete lack of interest in her and being uncomfortable all the time, Lillian’s patience was wearing severely thin. She had even got in an argument with Edie simply because she couldn’t bear being told again that Doc would come round, that Lillian just had to try harder or wait longer and suddenly everything would be perfect. Although she had tried to be gracious, she found sitting alone in the house most days while Doc was out in the fields terribly lonely. She was terrified of giving birth. It was the only thing she hadn’t mentioned in her letters to her sisters because she was still unsure whether or not they had even known she was pregnant when she left. They were both so young, she hadn’t wanted to be seen to be corrupting them with her bad influence. Edie’s horror stories of death during child birth or terrible injuries or that something would be wrong with her baby filled her dreams and she woke up often in a cold sweat, Doc sleeping soundly beside her. Between that and her baby kicking and turning seemingly the moment she lay down to go to sleep, Lillian felt huge and exhausted. She spent much of her time at the local church, praying and helping with the flower arrangements. A kind old lady who played organ regularly sent her home laden with little cakes and special teas which she said were good for the baby. Lillian couldn’t be quite sure what was in them, but the heat of the ginger settled her stomach. Her study was piled high with tiny knitted cardigans and crocheted blankets as well as some toys which one of the neighbour women whose children were grown had given her. In spite of its reputation as home to nothing but criminals and men out to get rich quick, the people in the town had been incredibly welcoming to her. Their kindness made her feel even worse about wanting to leave. Staying here with Doc, she could surely build a life that didn’t need romance that could be quite happy with a relationship that was purely practical. Going home with a new-born meant bringing shame on her family and depriving herself of any chance at a marriage of any kind. She spent her restless nights laying listening to Doc’s breathing and feeling her baby kick, wondering which life would be best for them both.

  One Saturday Lillian found herself cooking eggs over the stove, the oil splattering and leaving prickling burns on her hands. She had never had to cook in her old life, they had servants for that. Suddenly having to learn an entire repertoire of basics had been stressful, but she found cooking meditative, watching the eggs slowly turn white. Doc had a whole flock of hens behind the house which made happy clucking noises whenever she approached. She wondered what Benson (who had always accused her of being terribly prim and impractical) would think if he saw her now happily throwing them seed and collecting eggs each day. Doc sat at the large wooden table behind her, scribbling away at what Lillian assumed to be the ranches accounts. Lillian placed the eggs on a rose patterned plate with some toast and brought them to him. As she placed it down she bent down to kiss his cheek, only for him to jerk away as if she had just burnt him.

  ‘Can’t you see I’m working?!’ he hissed, slamming his hand on the papers. Lillian reeled back, frightened and angered by this unexpected outburst

  ‘I’m your wife! You brought me all the way out here and you treat me like the hired help! I deserve better than this!’

  ‘What, don’t I give you clothes and a place to live and food? Did you have a line of other suitors I was not aware of?’

  His snide tone felt like a slap in the face. Her eyes brimmed over with tears and she turned to run up the stairs, the silk skirts of her dress catching as she walked. How could she possibly bear living her life with this man? How could she possibly subject a child to living with a father who was so completely cold and indifferent and a mother who would surely be miserable? The options spilled out before her like the rice she had hoped would greet her at her first wedding. They were all bad options, but she relished them as choices nonetheless. She searched the large green chest she had first arrived with and found in the lining, a small sum of money she had kept there in case of emergency. It was just enough to buy her a ticket home. Her mother and father might be ashamed of her, but they wouldn’t send her away if she arrived at their door. The letters she received were now often signed by her mother as well as Clara and Margaret. Lillian took this as a sign she was missed, if not yet entirely forgiven. She marched to the village, heaving under the weight of her stomach and placed a telegram to her home to tell them that she would be home within the week. As she gave the telegram operator her message, he seemed shocked that someone so heavily pregnant would be embarking on such a journey, but Lillian made no effort to smile or assuage his concerns. Lillian had got this far by herself, she would get back again too.

  Chapter Eight

  ‘You can’t just leave Lillian!’ Doc shouted. The entire station was gathered around watching them. Lillian, her petite frame incongruent with her swollen belly, standing defiantly before him. In the distance, the smoke from the train could be seen rising and the beginnings of the vibrations tickled the soles of Lillian’s feet.

  ‘I tried to make this work and it just didn’t. I’m not going to spend the rest of my life with a man who will barely speak to me!’

  Lillian’s eyes were hard and narrow, her jaw clenched making her face look angular. She had become drawn and thin over the last few months, her skin looking red and translucent. She felt as if her whole body was held up by pure rage. The betrayal by Benson, by her family who had turned on her so easily and then by Doc. She couldn’t bear the thought of becoming one of those women in a completely loveless marriage, each day making her more and more bitter. Maybe she was young and naïve, but she was also the same Lillian she had always been. The same Lillian who was defiant, intelligent and ambitious. There was more for her in the world than becoming this old, sad version of herself, even if she was a single mother. She would love her child with more heart than Doc could ever provide.

  ‘Lillian, wait, let me explain. This isn’t me and I’m so sorry I’ve left you feeling alone and rejected’

  Lillian rolled her eyes at him and sighed. Doc drew closer to her, as if he was about to pull her back from the edge of a cliff and was worried about tipping her over.

  ‘I just couldn’t face it again. Couldn’t face caring about someone and then losing them again.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I never told you this, but I was married before to a wonderful woman named Alma. She died in childbirth, as did our son’ he looked away and tried to regain his composure ‘It took me years to even consider being with someone again and then you came here and you’re just like her. In every way. It’s not that I don’t care about you it’s that I’m afraid I might care about you too much and then I’ll lose you.’

  Doc had probably said more in that one burst than he had in the entire time Lillian had known him. His face was creased with pain and his broad shoulders rose and fell with his laboured breathing

  ‘If you still want to leave, then leave, but please don’t do it because you think I didn’t care.’

  Lillian met his eyes, warm and glinting gold in the sun. The grief and love in them told her that he wasn’t lying, that he really did care for her. Though she couldn’t possibly understand the sadness that would accompany a partner dying, she did know how it had felt to lose Benson and to feel as if she would never be able to care for anyone again. Looking at Doc, she knew that the anger she had felt was an expression of that frustrated love that had nowhere to go. She threw herself into Doc’s open arms and they kissed for what felt like the first time since their wedding day. His strong arms wrapped round her and she felt as if nothing in the world could ever come to harm her again. She didn’t know what life with Doc would bring, but in that moment she knew that she had to trust him. Had to trust that in spi
te of it all, he was the man that Benson had never been, and perhaps they could save each other from the loneliness they had been struggling to outrun.

  THE END.

  A Wanting Bride

  Mail Order Bride

  CHRISTIAN MICHAEL

  Chapter 1

  Harvey Jenkins surveyed the land before him. The couple hundred head of cattle that grazed in the valley below him spoke of his position. He had done well for himself, he wouldn’t deny that, but there was always more to be sought. Better deals, mergers, and the promise of greater notoriety. It wasn’t that he wanted to accumulate wealth for no reason, but there was something about the feeling of success that was addictive.

  “What are you thinking about Harvey?”

  He looked over at his friend and business partner Eli Austin. “I’m considering this next deal we’ve been discussing.”

  “You look like you want to take on the world—or at least Texas.”

  Harvey smirked. “Something like that.”

  “But really, what plans do you have brewing in that brilliant mind of yours?”

  “I’ve been reconsidering the offer from Max Dean.”

  “The rodeo guy?”

  “Yup,” Harvey said, adjusting the brim of his Stetson lower to keep the sun from his eyes.”

  “I thought that was a no-go.” Eli observed him from atop his Palomino while Harvey sat on his Buckskin horse. They would head back to the ranch soon but Harvey had wanted to see the land he lived on. It was something he insisted on almost weekly.

  “I’ve reconsidered.”

  “What else are you reconsidering?” Eli said with a laugh.

  “Getting married.”

  He could feel Eli’s gaze like it was a hot poker. “What? You said you would never get married.”

  “I did, but a man can change his mind, can’t he?”

  “All right, come clean, what business deal will a marriage help you with?” Eli sounded weary, not exactly disapproving.

  Harvey grimaced, was it that obvious that he wanted his business to succeed? “I’ve been thinking and it’s not so much one deal that would benefit but maybe several.”

  “Go on…” Eli said, his look communicating his doubt that this was true.

  “Remember when I met with Max last year?”

  “Yes.”

  “I spent one night out on the porch with him—you know how he likes to talk—and he started spouting off all of benefits of marriage to me. Then he said something that stuck with me.” Harvey gazed off into the distance remembering the night.

  “Are you going to make me guess?” Eli prompted.

  “No,” Harvey said with a chuckle, “He said that a man is settled when he’s married. He proves that he can take care of a household. It was almost as if he was saying a man is more trustworthy if he’s a family man.”

  “So you’re going to what…find a wife and have some kids to make yourself appear more trustworthy?”

  “I didn’t mean that,” Harvey sent a sharp glance toward Eli. “It’s just an idea I’ve been toying with.”

  “Where would you even find a woman willing to marry you?” Eli laughed at his own joke.

  “The Matrimonial Journal. I’d get a mail order bride.”

  Eli sobered quickly. “Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”

  Harvey rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Hold on a moment. I’ve been gone for nearly a month but—no, don’t tell me you’ve already found a wife!?”

  “I haven’t proposed yet.”

  Eli gasped and Harvey looked over to see his mouth hanging open. “I never thought I’d see the day that Harvey Jenkins settled down.”

  Harvey turned his attention back out to the valley below. He’d been corresponding with a woman for a little over a month now and, though he didn’t feel any sense of love toward her, she seemed to have a solid head on her shoulders and, from her photo, she was good looking. What more could he ask for?

  Glancing at his friend who still looked shocked, he turned his horse back toward the ranch house. “Come on, let’s head back. Maybe by the time we make it back your mouth will have found its way closed.”

  “I doubt that,” Eli said under his breath.

  ***

  May Gibson leaned all of her weight on the top of the trunk. “Can—you—get—it?” she panted.

  “Almost, miss,” the scullery maid said, pulling down on the clasp with a grimace.

  With one last slump downward the trunk lid closed and the maid flung her hands up.

  “Hurray!” the girl said, her cheeks pink with exertion.

  “Thank you for your help Mary.”

  “’Course miss,” the young girl said. She recovered quickly and ducked her head as she went about the rest of her chores.

  May stood up smoothing her hand over her crisp, clean apron and then her hair to make sure everything was in place. She was overseeing the final packing for her mistress but it was no small feat. Genevieve Stanton had accumulated more dresses and trinkets than should be allowed one woman of young years.

  May herself had less than half a trunk to fill, though she would try and fit as many books in the extra space as she could before all was said and done—though she wondered if she would be forced to pack Genevieve’s items she would no doubt pick up along the way.

  Sighing, she looked once more about the room then left for the sitting room. “Miss, we’re nearly finished.”

  Looking up from where she lazed on the couch, Genevieve nodded. “Fine. I expect to see you at the station no later than nine o’clock tomorrow. And did you return that last letter?”

  “Yes ma’am,” May said, pursing her lips as Genevieve looked back down to her book before receiving May’s response. “Good evening.”

  May left the room and, after hanging up her apron in the maids closet, she left the house for the last time. The fresh air felt freeing and glorious on her warm skin after being inside all day. She wanted to take a long, exhilarating walk, but tonight was her last night to finalize her moving arrangements and to say her goodbyes.

  Tears threatened her eyes but she forced them back. She was going on an adventure—that’s the only way she could look at it. She’d read stories upon stories of adventures and wonderful things and this was simply the only way she could leave the next day with any sense of peace.

  “May!” Looking up she saw Jeff making his way down the street toward her.

  “Hello Jeff,” she said with a forced smile.

  “You’re still leaving tomorrow, aren’t you?”

  She looked away, not willing to meet his gaze. “Yes.”

  “Why don’t you tell that fancy lady to forget it and let you go about your own life? Marry me, we’d have a grand time.”

  She laughed and looked up into his pale blue eyes. Something in them caused her breath to catch. Was he serious?

  “I—I can’t. You don't want to be stuck with someone like me. I’m not fun—I just like to read all the time and organize things.”

  He laughed but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m serious May. I’d make a good husband.”

  Something twisted inside of her. She thought of Jeff like a brother, nothing more. That’s how she knew she had to go. Even given the chance at an opportunity to stay and she didn’t feel peace about it. It was as if the Lord was directing her to pick up her whole life and move, even if she couldn’t see how or why.

  She placed a hand on his arm and looked him in the eye. “Thank you, but I have to do this. It’s the Lord’s direction.”

  He nodded slowly. “I understand. Write to us.”

  “You know I will,” she said. He left, but his mention of writing caused her stomach to clench. She had finished the letter for her mistress but she still needed to mail it. It looked like a stop by the post office was in order before she got home.

  One last letter to Mr. Harvey Jenkins—written by her but with her mistress’s sentiments. Soon Genevieve would n
o longer need her as a go-between. Then what would happen to May? She had to believe that the Lord had a plan better than one May could make, though sometimes—foolishly—May didn’t think that was possible.

  Chapter 2

  Harvey stood at the train station, the warm Texas wind blowing over him and reminding him of day spent out in the wild. He wished he were out there at that very moment, but instead he was in town to pick up his bride to be. Or, at least that's what he hoped she would be.

  He rubbed the back of his neck as the train approached. He hadn’t actually asked her to marry him yet, but she’d seemed all too happy to come out West to court him for a month or so before they made things official. She’d said she was bringing a maid along with her and that she expected to be put up in a style she was accustomed to.