by Leah Atwood
Her confession made him inexplicably pleased, and he was beginning to understand, or so he thought. “What happened to Tom?”
“His heart was bad; one day he just collapsed in the barn and died. Looking back, the signs were there but he never wanted to worry me. With him gone, I was left in a very similar situation as several years before, except by this time, I had discovered by Aunt Louise from Boston.”
“I’m sorry you’ve had so much loss,” Lyle offered.
“Losing Tom was hard enough, but leaving the ranch behind ripped my heart out twice over. I loved Tom, though. He said I was too young to really know what love was, but I know I loved him.”
“Can you love again?” His voice dropped to a low hush.
Winnie’s palms slammed the table and she jumped up. “Don’t you get it? Tom didn’t want me—I offered myself to him as a wife in all ways, but he constantly refused me. His rejection was a humiliation I never again want to suffer.” She blinked furiously, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Why? What is so wrong with me that he didn’t want to be my true husband?” she sobbed.
Everything made sense now. Lyle could see the answers so clearly. He rose, gathering Winnie in his arms. “Shhhh,” he whispered into her ear, until the crying subsided. When she was calmed, he placed a hand of each of her shoulders. “There is nothing wrong with you. You are a beautiful, intelligent woman. Don’t ever think less of yourself.”
“Have you ever been rejected to such an extreme? Do you know the mortification, shame, it causes?”
There was a response he debated giving but decided she needed to hear the truth. “You’ve been rejecting me since the day we were married.”
“That’s different. I was only rejecting you because I was afraid of having an unrequited love again. I didn't deny you, necessarily.”
Feeling lighter, Lyle’s hope that they could build a foundation for their marriage grew, but first he needed Winnie to realize there was nothing wrong with her. “Did you ever consider that Tom had reasons for keeping it a marriage in name only?”
“Other than not loving me as I loved him?”
“Yes. Maybe he did love you, but in a different way. You said yourself you were very young. Speaking as a man, in that scenario I would have made the same choice he did.”
“What do you mean?” Winnie asked, looking up from red-ringed eyes. It broke his heart to see her so vulnerable and unsure, so unlike the tough woman he’d seen so far.
“He knew if he didn’t marry you, that it was highly likely you’d end up a compromised woman. He sacrificed life as he knew it to provide a home for you, asking and expecting nothing in return. But by taking you as a true wife, at your young age, he would have been taking advantage of an innocent young girl, looking at him through hero tinted spectacles. He knew that and made a decision to honor you instead. His rejection shouldn’t have embarrassed you, rather made you feel worthy and respected that he cared that much. Maybe now, looking at the situation with the wisdom of added years, you’ll be able to see that.”
The blood drained from her face and her skin turned pale, as her hand flew to her mouth. Clearly, she’d never before looked at her marriage from that angle. “Do you really believe that?”
“Yes, I do. And Winnie….” He trailed off, letting the sentence hang.
“Yes,” she said after several moments.
“I’m only two years older than you and there would be nothing inappropriate about us having a true marriage. When the time comes for you to hopefully love me, I want you to know it won’t be unrequited.”
A slow smile started to turn her lips; a serenity settled in her gaze as she accepted his words. “I don’t think that time’s too far away.”
“Take your time, sweetheart. We have the rest of our lives.” He leaned down, pressing his lips to hers, sealing their newly formed understanding with a kiss.
They broke apart and Winnie stepped back, dazed. “Keep that up and my brain won’t be good for anything.”
Lyle laughed, appreciating her candid humor and was glad to see her returning to her normal disposition. “I just have one question.”
“What is it?”
“Do you really have a fancy dress to wear to the Radcliffe’s party?”
Winnie’s eyes danced with mischief. “Three to choose from as a matter-of-fact. Aunt Louise was very adamant that I wear that latest fashion.”
“You’ll be a vision of beauty.”
“Don’t get too used to it. I never was one for frilly things,” Winnie retorted.
“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“My trousers really don’t bother you?” Winnie asked, curious.
Lyle shrugged. “Nah, I’ve always been one to appreciate sensibleness. And your confidence in wearing them is part of your draw,” he added.
Chapter Six
Humming along, Winnie swept the floors, ridding the planks of dust and dirt. Today was Hazel’s day off and she’d went into town to visit with a few friends so Winnie was doing the household chores. Since falling in love, the tasks didn’t seem as mundane as before. While she cleaned, she’d daydream about Lyle and their future. Sometimes she’d even picture them with a baby or two. Love did funny things to a woman. As her love for Lyle grew, she came to understand her love for Tom had been of a different variety. It had never made her feel as she did now.
She was trying her best to allow affection and intimacy. A hug or embrace from Lyle wasn’t always shunned as before, but she never initiated contact. Their conversations expanded to topics deeper than the daily tasks needing to be accomplished. The closeness they were developing both appealed to and inspired her.
The noise of a wagon approaching interrupted Winnie’s thoughts. No one was expected, and it was too soon for Hazel to be returning. Keeping the broom in hand, she walked out to the porch and groaned. Leave it to Nancy Radcliffe to bring a dark cloud into her beautiful day. With everyone out riding today, Winnie would have no escape or rescue. Only when they were closer, did she realize that Evan, Nancy’s four-year-old son, was with her today, causing Winnie to smile. Evan was a sweet, if not precocious, a boy who brought a smile to everyone around him.
“Good morning, darling,” Nancy called out in her chipper voice.
“Good morning.” Winnie grimaced. Why the woman still came to visit, Winnie had no idea. Their encounters rarely ended well, despite her determination to be polite, but then Nancy would still come as though nothing had happened on the previous trip.
“I had to bring Evan with me today; I hope you don’t mind.” Nancy stepped off the wagon, bringing her son down, never missing a beat in her speech. “His nursemaid just up and ran off two days ago, leaving no notice. Can you imagine such thoughtlessness?”
Focusing on the young boy, Winnie smiled. “It’s always good to see you, Evan. Mrs. Hazel baked some cookies yesterday and there are a few with your name on them.”
“Yippee! Do they really have my name on them?” Evan asked, innocently.
Winnie laughed softly. “No,, but I would love to share them with you. Come inside,” she instructed, gesturing to the door. Evan ran inside, followed by his mother. Once inside, Winnie uncovered the cookies, setting a few on a plate then pouring some milk into a cup for Evan. “Here you go,” she said, placing them on the table.
“Shall we go to the parlor for our discussion?” Nancy gestured an arm.
“Of course,” Winnie responded with false enthusiasm. “Would you like anything to drink first?”
“No,, thank you.” In the parlor, they took seats, Winnie placing herself at the farthest seat away from Nancy. “Our annual Independence Day celebration will soon be here. I would like you to help me organize the festivities.”
“Me?” Winnie questioned in surprise.
“Yes. As a prominent citizen’s wife, you are expected to partake in civic responsibility. The people of Pine Prairie have accepted you, men’s clothing and all and have voted to make you the head of t
he celebration committee.”
Biting her tongue, Winnie clenched her fists. Nancy never missed an opportunity to criticize and degrade her, along with reminding her that Lyle was a “prominent citizen” of Pine Prairie. And when did this vote take place and by whom? Knowing Nancy, there was no such vote and she’d decided on her own. However, Winnie did love Independence Day and planning a celebration sounded like a lot of work, but work she’d enjoy, if not for the consumption of time it would take.
“While it sounds like an honor, I’m not sure I can devote the time needed,” she objected. “Perhaps a minor role in the planning would be better,” she offered as a compromise.
“Nonsense,” Nancy balked. “I already have most of the day planned out; you’ll just need to see to its execution.”
Sometimes there was nothing to do but admit defeat. She wasn’t up for an argument with Nancy today, so she conceded since it appeared Nancy had already completed the bulk of the work. “What do you have so far?”
“We’ll begin with our annual parade. Anyone who wants to participate can sign up at the telegraph office. After the parade, we’ll have a boxed lunch auction, but don’t worry darling, I don’t expect you to prepare anything. All proceeds from that will go into the town’s funds for future celebrations. In the afternoon, our local children will be performing a pageant, led by Lillian Dwyer, the schoolteacher.”
Nancy droned on, going into detail about each event and the decorations she wished to have for the event. When she heard Hazel returning from town, it was a welcome diversion. Until she came running into the house screaming.
“Come quick! Hurry, hurry.” Hazel’s cried were frantic.
“What’s wrong?” Winnie jumped up and ran to meet Hazel.
“Evan’s in the pen with Butch. There’s no time. We need to get him out.”
Time seemed to stand still. Butch was the meanest bull on Bar G, having caused injuries to even the best cowboy.
“My baby.” Nancy’s face paled and panic was evident.
All three woman ran outside. Evan was inside the pen, paralyzed with fear. Butch was growling and pawing the earth with his hooves. He snorted and tucked his chin.
“Help!” Nancy screamed, but Winnie was already running to the pen.
She saw Butch begin to charge and fear she’d never experienced took over. Her legs moved faster than they’d ever moved, and her heart raced. Eyeing the bull, she came to the pen, climbed up the bottom rung and reached over to grab Evan. Swinging him over the pen to safety, she continued holding her breath until the bull came to a stop, snorting and pawing more.
Stepping down, she gathered Evan more securely in her arms. He wrapped his tiny arms tightly around her neck as she walked back to the house. A weeping Nancy took her son, squeezing him with all her might.
“I’m sorry, mama,” Evan cried.
“Shh, she. We’ll talk about that later,” Nancy told her son in soothing tones.
In the moments of fear and relief, Winnie saw Nancy as a different woman, as a mother who cared deeply about her son. Maybe she had some goodness buried in her after all.
Wiping her tears, Nancy remained holding her son. “I don’t know how to thank you,” she told Winnie. “You saved his life. I owe you an apology for how I’ve treated you. You are a better person than I will ever be, and I am sorry for judging you.”
“I’m just glad Evan is safe,” Winnie answered.
“If you don’t mind, I think we will leave now. I feel suddenly drained.”
Winnie felt weary herself. The fear that came with seeing Evan in harm’s immediate way took quite a toll. “I’ll be in town next week. I’ll stop by so we can discuss the celebration more,” she offered, her way of accepting Nancy’s apology.
“Yes, yes. That will work.” She went to her wagon, struggling to climb up with Evan still firmly attached to her. She drove away, still pale from the event.
“Are you okay, dear?” Hazel asked, putting a comforting arm around her.
“Yes. I’ve just never been so scared in my life. If something had happened to him, I’d never have forgiven myself. We should have paid closer attention to him.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself. Accidents happen, and hopefully this will teach him a valuable lesson that will prevent him from getting hurt in the future.”
“Life is so fragile.” As much as Winnie tried not to, she couldn’t help picturing Lyle in the pen, being charged by Butch. What if something happened to him? Would he know that she loved him? She hadn’t told him yet, but she knew. The harrowing incident with Evan was making her face some truths.
That afternoon, she sat on the porch, waiting for Lyle to return. She’d taken a huge step, spending the afternoon moving all her belongings into the main bedroom. A small measure of apprehension remained in her at making herself vulnerable, but she knew it was the right thing to do. She needed to give Lyle her all, just like she did with the ranch.
Lyle rode in, alone, for which Winnie was grateful as she didn’t want an audience. He didn’t see her as he rode into the barn. Pacing on the porch, Winnie waited impatiently for him to exit. After what seemed an eternity, he came out, walking toward the house and she could wait no longer.
She ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck in unbridled emotion. “I love you,” she professed. “I was stubborn and pig-headed about it, but I need you to know that I love you.” The words came spilling out in zeal.
Lyle returned her embrace, repeating the words back to her. “I love you, Winnie. I always will.”
The return of the other men caused them to break apart, and Lyle looked pleasantly puzzled. “I’m glad you came to your senses,” he teased, “but what caused the sudden change?”
Replaying the events of the day, Winnie told him everything from Evan being in the pen, to Nancy’s apology, to the aftermath fear of losing Lyle and the stark reminder that life can end in a second. “Everything came together and jolted me into awareness. I need you in my life, not just as someone I work with, but as a friend and husband.”
“There are no two roles I’d rather fill. I’m sorry for the circumstances that brought this on, but I’m sure pleased with the result.” He smiled broadly at her, assuring her all was well. Beyond well.
Epilogue
Independence Day- Six years later
“I’m not going to allow it,” Nancy Radcliffe insisted. “It’s preposterous. No five-year-old has business riding a horse.”
“It’s a pony, and you said yourself that you wanted the children more involved.” Winnie shifted her seven-month-old daughter, Leslie, in her arms. “Luke wants to be in the parade, and his father and I think it’s a good idea. If Evan hadn’t mentioned riding, Luke never would have gotten the idea.”
“Can’t we let him walk in front of everyone, simply waving a flag?”
“He’s my son. I know what he’s capable of doing and he can ride the old pony just fine.”
“I know, I know, but I think of him as one of my own. I couldn’t bear anything happening to him.”
Winnie smiled. Once they’d agreed to disagree on certain issues, Nancy, and she had become close friends over the years. “Where’s his flag?”
Grudgingly, Nancy handed over a small flag. “I’ll place him beside Evan. He’ll know what to do if the pony doesn’t cooperate.”
The pony was probably the most docile creature to ever exist, but Winnie kept her mouth shut. She took the flag and ambled over to the livery where everyone participating in the parade was lining up in order.
“I see you won her over again,” Lyle stated with a chuckle.
“Did you have any doubt?”
“None at all.”
“Luke will ride beside Evan near the front,” she relayed.
“He’s already there,” Lyle admitted. When Winnie gave him a quick glare, he simply shrugged and said, “What can I say, he’s our child.”
“By inheriting your arrogance and my stubbornness, we have our hands
full with him.” Winnie sighed contentedly. Luke did keep her constantly on her toes, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.
Lyle took Leslie from her. “Maybe this one will be a bit calmer and less adventurous.”
As if on cue, Leslie let out a loud squeal and started flapping her chubby arms with glee when she saw a horse pass.
“Or not,” Lyle and Winnie said simultaneously.
Calm, wild, quiet or loud, their love had multiplied into a life of blessings.
Dear Reader,
Over the last decade, I’ve had the opportunity to live in various places, from the shores of the Atlantic to the desert of California. Several weeks ago, I returned to my childhood home for a family wedding. As I traveled north from the Deep South, the landscape gradually changed from flat plains to wonderful rolling hills, cities into farmland. There is a turn on the road that is always my “marker.” When I come around that bend, I can see the tiny town I spent all of my childhood in and I know I am home. Though I’ve been gone for some time, there will always be a large part of me rooted to that land, no matter where I live. Do you have a special place that gives you that feeling? I’d love to hear your answers,
Until next time,
Leah
Find Leah online at:
www.leahatwood.com
Twitter: @LeahAWrites
Facebook: www.facebook.com/LeahAtwoodAuthor
Email: [email protected]
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“I’m at a loss. I don’t know what to do about you.” George West glared at his son in obvious disappointment.
