[2016] A Widow's Love

by Christian Michael

  She clutched the pillow closer, wrinkling her nose at the smell. The man, this place—everything—wasn’t anything like she’d imagined. Then again, she hadn’t known what to expect. When an unmarried, pregnant woman sought marriage, she had little choosing power and Effie had realized that immediately.

  The fact was…Mack had been the nicest man she’d written to. She’d sent out introductory letters to five different gentlemen and, of the three that had replied, she had enjoyed Mack’s letter the most. Even seeing him as she stepped from the train she’d been pleasantly surprised.

  He was a tall man with sandy blonde hair and vibrant blue eyes. He looked strong, stood tall, and from what she’d observed, treated others well and with respect. She should be happy, but right now all she could see was the fact that she was in some shack that reminded her of a hovel, in some town that looked nothing like the city she had grown up in.

  She thought of her parents. They still thought she’d chosen to marry because she’d been so distraught over what Ronald had done that she’d needed to leave Boston. Little did they know she had a much bigger secret.

  They would have completely disowned her—

  The thought stopped her cold. They didn't matter so much now while in reality it was Mack that truly mattered.

  She sat up, the sudden motion making her head spin. Mack’s opinion did matter. What he thought about her—especially the child—actually mattered a great deal. The moment she could no longer hide the fact that she was pregnant was the moment she would have to rely on his good graces to keep her as his wife.

  Would he throw her out if he knew?

  She shuddered, thinking he’d be justified in doing so out here in this heathen town.

  And what had she done? She’d secluded herself in his bedroom and left him with no explanation to her feelings. Panic threatened to take over. She had to convince him that she was a benefit to him.

  But how?

  She thought of Mary’s funny sayings, one coming to mind for this very occasion. The way to the love of a man is through a good meal. Effie pushed herself off the bed, straightening her dress and taking a fortifying breath. This was exactly why Mary had taught her how to cook simple things before she left. Effie needed to make herself indispensable to Mack. She had to gain his trust and maybe even his heart so that, when she told the truth, he would someday learn to forgive her.

  Forcing herself to move into the kitchen area, she could even call it that, she assessed what was on hand and began pulling something together. Part of her hated the fact that she would be lying to Mack—making him think that she actually liked being here in the middle of nowhere in the West…but the other part of her was desperate.

  She had no other options. Mack was it.

  She thought of his handsome face and wondered if she could ever learn to truly care for him. Then again, they were worlds apart. He had no idea just how far, but she did. There was no way they had anything in common. Nothing at all.

  Letting out a gigantic sigh she thought of her friends back in Boston. They no doubt were still whispering about her failed engagement to Ronald and her hasty departure to the West. What would they think if they saw her now?

  Tears flooded her vision and she slumped over the table, burying her face in her arms. This was to be her life—there was no escaping it now.

  Chapter 3

  Mack lifted the saddle off of his horse, hauling it over the side rail and grabbing his currycomb. He began rubbing circles on the horse’s sweaty back, easing out the matted hair while he crooned to the animal. Horses were delicate creatures that required time, patience, and attention.

  Apparently horses were a lot like women.

  He smiled at that, thinking back on his encounter with Effie over dinner the night before. She had gone from a sobbing mess to a dutiful housewife in the span of an hour, making his head spin, but by the end of the night he could tell her nerves were wearing thin. He was afraid of saying the wrong thing so, rather than say anything, he’d left her with his thanks over the meal and a wish for a good night of sleep and come out to the barn to bed down.

  She hadn’t been awake when he came in for breakfast that morning, and he hadn’t wanted to wake her anyway. He wasn’t sure what was worse, knowing that he’d have to face her soon or wondering what her mood would be like when he did finally see her.

  He cringed. That made it sound like he wasn’t interested in her—which was the exact opposite of his feelings. But he couldn’t get a firm grasp on her. He knew he needed to be patient, realizing that she had picked up her entire life to come out West to marry some stranger, but he’d hoped the woman he married would have some interest in being…well, married.

  Maybe it was too soon to tell. Maybe he just needed to wait. Yes, that was likely it. He was rushing into things and expecting too much. He needed to love her just like the Good Book said.

  Finishing up with the horse, his stomach grumbled in response to his hunger. Despite his earlier hesitation with seeing Effie he knew one thing for certain, he was looking forward to her cooking! That had been the biggest surprise for him the day before—to walk back into his home and have her cooking supper for them both. He hadn’t expected a high society lady like her to know how to cook, let alone for it to be good, but it had been.

  He grinned now just thinking about it. Would she have made something tonight as well? As he drew nearer to the house he was certain she had. He could smell the spices of…was that chili?

  With a deep, fortifying breath for what state he would find his wife in tonight, he pushed open the door.

  Effie looked up at him and smiled. “Welcome home.”

  He forced a smile, taken aback by her cheerful attitude, and came inside. “Thanks. That sure smells good.”

  “It’s chili. I hope you like it.”

  “I’m sure I will,” he said, licking his lips.

  “Make sure you wash up first.”

  He halted, his hand on the back of his chair. Wash up? What was he? A child. “I'm not that dirty.”

  She turned toward him, giving him a hard stare. “You are.”

  He opened his mouth to argue with her but his earlier thought broke through his frustration. Love. He needed to love her.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said through gritted teeth.

  She hid a smile and turned back to the stove.

  This was going to be harder than he thought. Mack washed up at the water pump, grimacing at the dirt that came off of his hands. So maybe he had needed to clean up a bit. But still, it was the principle. Was she his wife or his mother?

  “Hope this’ll do,” he said, holding out his clean hands.

  It was partly a joke and partly meant as a jab, but she either ignored it or didn’t notice because all she said was, “Much better.”

  He sat down, about ready to dig into the meal when he felt her gaze on him. “Aren’t you going to pray over the meal?”

  Of course, he thought. He’d gotten so used to digging into his grub, having lived on his own for so long, that he’d almost forgot about the habit of blessing the food. It wasn’t that he wasn’t thankful, but he didn’t stop to do it.

  “Sure,” he said, closing his eyes. And, as he offered up thanks to the Lord for the meal and the hands that had prepared it, he also silently prayed for patience.

  ***

  Effie felt bad—but only slightly—for giving Mack a hard time. She couldn’t believe him though. His hands had been soiled with dirt, his clothes were wracked with dust, and she doubted he’d bathed in…well, she couldn’t guess when the last time was.

  They ate in silence for a while as she thought through something that she could bring up to talk with him about. Each time she thought of a topic she dismissed it, thinking surely he wouldn’t be interested.

  She didn't know how to relate to him. Didn’t know things that he would talk about, let alone things that he would understand.

  She blushed, dropping her gaze to her bowl of chil
i. She was being awful.

  “So,” he said, breaking into her mean thoughts, “What did you do today?”

  Swallowing, she looked up at him and then back at the chili. She had slept in much too late today and hardly done anything helpful. She’d mostly felt sick in the morning and had been unable to move, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

  “Oh, you know, woman things.” She bit her lip, looking away. It was the most ridiculous answer.

  “Um, right,” he said. Obviously he had no idea what those things were—then again, neither did she.

  “You wouldn’t happen to have any books, would you?” She looked up and immediately felt foolish for asking. Of course he wouldn’t have any books. Did she see whom she was married to?

  “Sure,” he said, nodding slowly as he took a bite of the cornbread she’d made to accompany the chili. “What do you like to read?”

  She gaped at him. “Um, really?”

  He frowned. “What?”

  How could she put this delicately? Maybe she shouldn’t even try. “Never mind. I enjoy all sorts of things.”

  When he didn’t respond she looked up and caught his hard gaze. “I’m curious to know what you actually think about me.”

  “W-what do you mean?” His blunt words surprised her.

  “Clearly you think me uneducated and possibly childish for not washing before meals. What else have you decided about me without asking?”

  Heat flooded her cheeks. He had certainly called her out, and now she felt completely foolish for forcing him to wash up before the meal. But he’d been so dirty…

  “I—” she fought to find the right words. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just your hands were dirty and…”

  “Look,” he said, putting down his fork and resting his elbows on the table in front of him. “We hardly know one another—I understand that—but let’s decide not to make up our minds about one another without the benefit of experience. I’m sure there are lot of things we haven’t told one another that will come out over time. We’ll just need to wait for that, but until then let’s treat each other with grace.”

  She licked dry lips, feeling the pressure of tears again. If only he knew what she was hiding. But no, she couldn’t tell him, not yet, and she also couldn’t dissolve into a fit of tears again. “I agree.” Her voice cracked and she took in a breath.

  “I’m sorry I—”

  “No, it’s all right. I…” she chocked on emotion and pushed back from the table. “I’m sorry.” Then she ran back into the bedroom, trying to cover the sound of her tears. She felt so foolish but her emotions had been unpredictable, likely from the baby, and she couldn't explain that to him either.

  Lying down on the bed once again, she squeezed her eyes shut, tears flooding out, and tried to calm down. Eventually she’d have to have a full conversation with the man she’d married. Tears couldn’t always be her escape, no matter what happened.

  Chapter 4

  Mack kicked his horse into a trot, anxious to get back home. It had been a week of marriage but it had felt more like a year and not in a good way. He hated that that was the truth, but it felt as if he was fighting every day not to set Effie off.

  In the mornings she looked sick, in the afternoons she was exhausted, and by suppertime she was irritable. There was really no good time, but he’d continued to feel the tug from the Lord to love her—no matter what. That’s why he was rushing back today. He had a gift for her that he hoped would make her happy.

  Skidding to a stop outside, he smoothed down the shirt she had mended for him, happy to see that he hadn’t gotten to dirty on the ride back. He’d tried to be more careful with bathing and he’d noticed the appreciative glances he’d caught from her when she thought he wasn’t looking.

  He smiled, knowing that, despite her frustrations about living in the West and a myriad of other things she’d mentioned, she was attracted to him, just as he was attracted to her. The frustrating part was everything else that stood in their way. Like the fact that it seemed she couldn’t stand him sometimes. He let out a sigh.

  Gingerly, he opened the door and pushed it inside. Maybe he should play to the attraction? The thoughts halted him momentarily and he stood in the doorway. Could he do that?

  Unsure of what that would look like he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Effie looked up from her seat near the window to the side and offered him a small smile.

  “Morning,” he said.

  “Good morning,” she said, putting down the mending she’d been working on.

  “I brought you something.”

  Her eyebrows rose in surprise, and she offered a small expectant smile. He crossed the room and handed her a package wrapped in brown paper. The wrinkles on her brow hinted at her curiosity and she quickly tore into the package, gasping when she got through the paper.

  “Oh my goodness!”

  He grinned, happy to see she was pleased. “I though you may like that.”

  “It’s a copy of Little Women, my favorite book.”

  His smile grew. “You’d mentioned it in one of our letters and I didn’t think you’d brought it with you. I ordered it from the general store which is why it took a while to get here.”

  She rose from the chair coming to stand in front of him. “Thank you,” she said. This was the first spark of true gratitude he’d seen from her.

  “You’re welcome,” he replied, noticing how close she stood to him. Maybe this was his opportunity. “If you ever want anything—let me know.” He reached out, slowly so as not to shock her, and rested his hand on her arm. “I want to provide for you. To make you happy.”

  He willed her to see the truth in his eyes.

  She took in a breath. “T-thank you.”

  They stood there for a moment, staring into one another’s eyes, then so slowly even he had trouble believing he was moving, his head bent down toward her. He felt hyper-aware, knowing at any moment she could pull back and he would step away immediately. He wasn’t going to force himself on her, but if he read her correctly, she wanted to feel his kiss as much as he wanted to bestow it on her.

  The world slowed as her eyes closed. Her upturned lips beckoning him. His pulse hammered in his ears but he willed himself to focus on the moment. On the woman in front of him. He barely understood her, but he was drawn to her and—

  The book dropped from her hands and she slumped forward. Shocked, he caught her, easing her to the ground.

  “Effie?” he shouted, “Effie what’s wrong?”

  But she didn’t move.

  The doctor had been in with her for too long now. Mack wanted to know what was wrong. What had caused her to faint? He’d been so shocked but, after resting her in his bed, he’d run out and sent a hand off to fetch the doctor. He wasn’t willing to risk her heath and would spare nothing to help her.

  Now he paced outside as the doctor examined her. He ran a hand through his hair for the thousandth time and fought back the urge to curse out loud. This wasn’t like him, but he was worried.

  The door to the house opened and he nearly jumped on the doctor as the man emerged.

  “How is she?”

  “Oh she’s fine,” the older man said with a sparkle in his eye. “I’d say she isn’t used to the exertion life in the West has proved to be. But not to worry, the baby is fine.”

  Mack opened his mouth to reply but closed it again. Had the doctor just said baby?

  “Uh,” the doctor’s eyes narrowed. “You did know about the baby?”

  A hundred thoughts ran through Mack’s mind at once. Effie was pregnant. His mind repeated this over and over again on a loop for a few seconds before the truth sunk in. The second was the reality that the child was most certainly not his. The third thing was the fact that she had to have known when she came out West. He couldn’t be certain until he talked with her, but it seemed unlikely she hadn’t known.

  Lastly, if not most importantly, he realized that if he admi
tted to the fact he didn’t know about the baby it was possible the doctor would think ill of his wife. Maybe, just maybe, he would think she hadn’t told him yet, but Mack didn’t want to risk that.

  “Yes, of course. Good.” He turned away on the pretense of going back inside. “Thanks again, Doc,” he tossed over his shoulder.

  “Make sure she rests, and when her time comes, come and fetch me. It looks to be several more months away though.”

  Mack tossed up a hand and pushed through the door, unwilling to meet the gaze of the doctor. Sock didn't come close to describing how he felt. Effie was pregnant. Pregnant. She was going to have a baby and—he gulped down air. She was going to have a baby in a few months!

  He wasn’t ready for this. He hadn’t even kissed his wife yet, let alone thought about having children. What was more, she had lied to him.

  Turning toward the back of the house he strode forward, determined. Yanking back the blanket that separated the rooms, he opened his mouth to have it out with her when he saw her lying on the bed, eyes closed in sleep. Her hand lay across her abdomen and, now that he knew what to look for, he could see the roundness there.

  How had he missed it all this time?

  He wanted to wake her up, to demand an answer from her, but he couldn’t. She laid there, delicate and fragile, skin pale against the blankets, and all he could feel was helplessness and a deep well of love for her. If she hadn’t told him, she had her reasons. She also wouldn’t have been able to hide it much longer so she had to have some sort of plan.

  Stepping back, he let the blanket drop back into place. He’d let her rest for now, praying over their later conversation and his reaction to what she would say to him.

  Chapter 5

  Effie awoke with a start, wondering where she was and why she was lying in bed when the sun rode low on the horizon. Her hand rested against her stomach, feeling the slight bulge there, and she licked dry lips. She’d fainted. Then she’d awoken to a doctor poking and prodding her.