To Catch a Bride
Page 6
“Not yet.” There was a breathless quality to her voice.
Worried that there might be something wrong with her or the baby, he rushed downstairs and flung the curtain out of his way. “Marilyn? Where are you?”
“Here.”
He turned to his left and wound his way over to where she sat on the feather bed.
“I wanted to see what it felt like.” She appeared to be fine, although her skin was a bit pink.
The tempo of his heartbeat slowed. “And?”
She tilted her head to look up at him, laughter dancing in her blue eyes. “I either need my house finished in the next three hours, or I want this hauled to my rental.” She ran a loving hand over the mattress. “Now that I’m here, I’m never leaving.”
Humor bubbled inside his chest. “Is that because it’s comfortable? Or because you can’t get back up?”
She rested her hands atop her expanding belly and gave him a mischievous grin. “A little of both.”
David put his fist against his mouth to stop a chuckle from escaping, until Marilyn snickered. His laughter joined hers in a merry duet.
Oh, but she was a delight. How he wished he’d met her ten years ago before—
No. He refused to spoil the moment with thoughts of his late wife.
He extended his right hand. “Come on. Let’s get you up from there.” She put her hand in his, and warmth spread up his arm and through his torso. He inhaled in three, short bursts, but she didn’t seem to notice how her touch affected him.
She braced her left hand on the top of a barrel, pushed against it, and pulled against his hand until she could curl a leg beneath her and push all the way up to a standing position.
Right in front of him.
Her lips so close to his chin, all it would take to kiss her was the slightest bend of his neck.
The back door to the shop squeaked a moment before Jonas called, “David? Are you ready?”
David let go of Marilyn’s hand and took a step back. “Over here.”
She bent her head to tuck a loose curl into the net at the base of her neck. When Jonas came into view, she squared her shoulders. “Good afternoon, Mr. Forsythe.” She shot a quick look at David. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.” She hurried past Jonas, sweeping the curtain aside on her way out of the shop.
Jonas watched her leave, then turned, his eyebrows high, to pierce David with a questioning look. “Something I should know about?”
David shook his head, but Jonas’s eyebrows didn’t come down.
“Mm-hm.” Skepticism filled the two syllables.
Heat filled David’s neck and cheeks. “I’m never getting married again.”
The declaration brought Jonas’s eyebrows down. “Why not?”
Such a simple question, but not one David was prepared to answer despite the friendship that had grown between him and Jonas over shared meals, games of chess, and discussions ranging in topic from politics to religion during the past four weeks.
David cleared his throat. “God called me to Montana Territory. That call included giving up on any thought of marriage.”
It wasn’t the whole truth. God had made it clear that it was time to leave Bucyrus, Ohio, but David had chosen Montana because of how few women—none of them the marrying kind—occupied the territory.
Jonas took out his pocket watch and checked the time. “I don’t see what being here and remaining single have in common, but I hope you will still have dinner with me when I say I’m pleased to hear you have no designs on Mrs. Svenson.”
David’s stomach dropped a foot. “Are you interested in courting her?”
“Yes, but not until her year of mourning is over, of course.” Jonas tucked his watch back into his gold brocade vest. “We might be in a rough and rowdy town, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t observe social customs.”
It made sense for a lawyer to be something of a stickler for rules, but he didn’t know the object of his affection well if he thought Marilyn Svenson the type of woman to follow any custom which didn’t make sense to her. She’d given up wearing black because the only clothing she owned in that color was made of wool, which was too impractical for summer heat. Then, when she needed to make maternity clothing, she’d chosen calicos that hid a dirty hem better than black.
David swallowed down his misgivings. Marilyn had mentioned she would consider remarrying rather than going home to Minnesota once the baby was strong enough for travel. Jonas was a fine man, and the best marital prospect in Helena.
Except not for Marilyn.
David untied his shopkeeper’s apron. If he wasn’t going to marry Marilyn—and he wasn’t—then the most gentlemanly thing he could do was not stand in the way of Jonas’s courtship.
Chapter 5
October 15, 1865
Marilyn sat on the wood crate soaking in the crisp October sunshine. David had suggested the church congregation gather for a harvest celebration by way of a picnic. News had spread throughout the city, and a fair number of men who’d never darkened the door of The Repair and Resale Shop on a Sunday morning arrived in time to set up makeshift tables and chairs in the vacant lot south of David’s shop.
They’d come hungry, but many of them were considerate enough to bring a plate of biscuits or pot of beans to share.
Marilyn rubbed her expanding belly. She was twice as large as Ellen, who was just barely showing at four months along. Given the size difference, Marilyn suspected Dr. Tolbert’s assessment of when she conceived had been right all along. She’d carried this child for almost seven months, and she hadn’t experienced one symptom of miscarriage. Hope became harder and harder to suppress with each passing day.
Childish laughter drew her attention to where David was entertaining the Palmer children with a hand puppet he’d made from a sock. Geddes kept trying to pull the sock away, so David opened the puppet’s mouth and nibbled at the toddler’s fingers, making him squeal with delight.
“Good day, ladies.”
Marilyn put a hand over her eyes to block the sun behind Mr. Forsythe while she and Ellen returned his greeting.
He set his plate of food on the wood planks of the makeshift table. “Would you allow me to fetch you some more lemonade or a piece of cake?”
Ellen set her fork on the side of her tin plate. “Thank you. That would be lovely.”
Marilyn was about to say that she could fetch her own, but Mr. Forsythe bowed and headed off toward the dessert table. She lowered her hand and looked at Ellen. “I don’t think he realizes that we made those cakes and ate plenty while experimenting the past few days.”
“It was most gentlemanly of him to think of it, though, so let’s appreciate the gesture.” Ellen winced and pressed a hand against her side.
Marilyn eyed her friend for any signs of pallor. “Should I fetch Dr. Tolbert?”
Ellen shook her head. “Please don’t. I’m fine. Every pregnancy is different. Luanne was always kicking, and Geddes didn’t seem to want to come out.” She chuckled. “It’s funny to think of them that way, considering how calm Luanne is and how Geddes won’t sit still nowadays.”
Marilyn glanced over to where David continued to entertain the children. Luanne stood still while Geddes was jumping up and down trying to reach the puppet that David lifted high, then brought low in a game of keep-away.
“Mr. Forsythe is certainly a handsome man.”
Ellen’s observation swung Marilyn’s attention to the opposite end of the crowd of picnic goers, at least five of whom were wives who’d recently come to town. The scented soaps and candles were doing their job. It was time to talk to David about adding hand-cranked washing machines to his shop.
“He’ll make someone a fine husband one day.”
Ellen meant Jonas, of course, but Marilyn looked back at David and his obvious delight while playing with the children. “I agree.”
“I agree?” Ellen sounded affronted. “That’s all you have to say? Marilyn! Any man who has worked tire
lessly on your homestead claim issue would make you a fine husband.”
Pressure rose against the side of Marilyn’s belly. She rubbed what had to be her baby’s foot as she thought about Ellen’s statement.
The latest letter from the authorities in Bannack stated they had all the information they needed to process her request, and that she could expect legal confirmation of head-of-household status by the end of the month.
Jonas had worked a miracle.
He was intelligent, well mannered, and looking out for her best interests. He’d recommended that she hold on to her land as long as possible, which she agreed was wise but argued against for the fun of it. He’d entered into the debate, and they’d spent several hours disputing issues ranging from homesteading to territory politics. Marilyn reveled in their exchanges. She enjoyed being with him. He was most certainly an excellent choice as a husband.
He just wasn’t David.
Ellen gripped Marilyn’s hand. “Here he comes. Be nice.”
Marilyn opened her mouth to say she was always nice but closed it when she remembered how much Ellen hated any kind of discord—even the fun, debating kind.
Jonas strolled up to the table with three cake plates, one in his right hand and two in his left. “Ladies, your dessert.”
“Thank you.” Ellen rose from the table. “If you will excuse me, I think I’ll take mine to share with my husband.” After taking the plate in Jonas’s right hand, she left the table, casting a significant glance at the lawyer that only Marilyn could see.
Jonas set the remaining two plates on the table and then slid onto the chair Ellen had just vacated. “If word around the dessert table is to be believed, this is the best cake ever baked.” He pulled some forks from the inner pocket of his suit coat, handed one to Marilyn, then held his above the cake. “Shall we put it to the test?”
She smiled, surprised and pleased that he would unbend his adherence to rules enough to take a bite of dessert before eating his meal. “I doubt any of these men have tasted a cake in the time they’ve been here, so I’m sure the praise is exaggerated.”
Jonas took a bite, chewed with solemn concentration, held up his index finger as though needing another moment, and took another bite. “It’s quite delicious. Although, to be truthful, it’s not the best I’ve ever had.”
She wasn’t surprised. A man who’d attended Harvard Law School and described his home in light of the many dignitaries his family had entertained must be used to finer dining than anything two experimental cooks could make. “Your honesty is one of the things I appreciate most about you.”
His smile dimmed, replaced by a look of sincerity and maybe a bit of apprehension. “If I may be so bold, your companionship has been a delight over the past two months. There aren’t many who appreciate the pleasure of a good debate, and I despaired of finding someone like you when I chose to leave home for Montana.”
“I’ve enjoyed our conversations as well.”
He set his fork down and turned to face her. “I’m glad to hear it, because I think it’s time for you to make a decision about your future. Under normal circumstances, it would be quite reasonable for you to wait a full year to properly mourn your husband before considering remarriage. These, however, are not normal circumstances.” His gaze dropped to her waist for an instant. “I would like permission to begin courting you now, so when the time comes, you will have a husband and a father for your child.”
* * *
David looked over to where Jonas and Marilyn were sitting, fully expecting them to be engaged in conversation. Instead, she was staring at him. Those sun-brightened blue eyes of hers caused his stomach to flip upside down.
Just as it had over the past two months.
He’d not felt so out of sorts since—well—ever. Not even Klaudia had stirred his soul as much. But maybe that was because his spirit recognized his wife’s eventual betrayal and was trying to tell him what he refused to hear.
Geddes grabbed the sock puppet off David’s hand and ran away. Luanne chased him with cries of, “Bring him back!”
And still David couldn’t look away from Marilyn Svenson, not until Jonas turned to see what his companion was staring at.
David jumped up and ran after Geddes and Luanne.
Jonas was a man of both intelligence and integrity. And he’d been a champion to Marilyn since his arrival in town. He’d worked to secure her head-of-household status, hired someone to look after her homestead so she could either sell it or continue to live on it after the baby was born, and quietly convinced Sheriff Blanchard to investigate Gunder Svenson’s death when his hired man found fool’s gold in the creek near her house.
David turned his attention away from chasing the Palmer children in time to see what appeared to be a very serious conversation between Jonas and Marilyn.
She nodded. Jonas looked pleased. And David wanted to run to the opposite side of the country.
What kind of man told his friend how to court the woman who made his very own heart race and his stomach twist? A frightened one. A coward. And yet one who was doing what he thought best for two people about whom he cared a great deal.
* * *
The picnic ended around three in the afternoon. The men refused to let two pregnant women help with cleanup, so Marilyn returned to the little rental house David had found for her two months ago. She hadn’t realized how lonely life on the homestead was until spending her days either with the Palmers or at The Repair and Resale Shop.
It had been easier than she imagined to sell off her livestock and the few belongings she hadn’t wanted to keep for her new house in town. When it was time to move home to Minnesota, she’d miss Ellen. She didn’t find Marilyn’s interest in scientific study odd or unfeminine, nor did Ellen take offense when Marilyn spoke her mind. Instead, there was acceptance and delight. Ellen didn’t like debating much, though, which was probably why she’d admonished Marilyn to be nice to Jonas.
Jonas. Hm. What was she going to do about his proposal?
She pulled the strings of her bonnet and hung it on the peg beside the front door.
A knock sounded. “Mrs. Svenson?” Mr. Palmer’s voice was followed by another knock.
She opened the door. The pallor of his skin and wide eyes made her heart sink. “Something’s wrong with Ellen, isn’t there?”
He nodded. “I’m off to fetch Dr. Tolbert. Could you stay with her?”
“Of course.”
He dipped his chin in either acknowledgment or thanks—maybe a bit of both—then hurried down the street.
Marilyn forced herself not to run to the Palmers’ house. She stepped inside to see David sitting on the settee, staring at his folded hands. He stood the instant he saw her. She nodded but didn’t stop to say anything on her way past. Inside the Palmers’ bedroom, Luanne and Geddes were crowded around their mother, crying, while Ellen’s weak voice comforted them, assuring them she would be all right. But the wetness leaking through the quilt said otherwise. So did the look of panic on Ellen’s face.
Marilyn needed to get the little ones away from the house, but she also needed to remain close to Ellen. She returned to the parlor where David still stood. “We have to take Luanne and Geddes away. You are the only one with whom they will stay willingly.”
David nodded.
Together, they walked to Ellen’s bed.
“I’ll be right back,” Marilyn whispered as she squeezed Ellen’s hand.
In less than a minute, the children were snug in David’s arms, one on each hip.
Marilyn walked him to the door. “Take them to my house. I’ll come watch them with you after Wendell returns.” She opened the door. Before she could think better of it, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
Once again, he responded with nothing more than a nod.
Marilyn closed the door. With a heavy heart, she returned to Ellen’s bedside. She’d seen the same stain on her own bedding too many times to have any hope for the
baby. She knelt beside Ellen, gripped her hand, and prayed for her friend to survive.
Time passed slowly. Or at least too slow for Marilyn’s patience.
Wendell rushed into the house followed by Dr. Tolbert, who immediately moved to the side of the bed opposite Marilyn.
He put a hand on Ellen’s perspiring brow and placed his stethoscope on her chest.
Ellen squeezed Marilyn’s fingers. “Go take care of my babies.”
Did she mean now, or forever? Marilyn held on to her friend’s hand. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“Please,” Ellen said through clenched teeth.
Marilyn understood. Regardless of the deep and abiding friendship the two of them had built over the past two months, Ellen didn’t want anyone except her husband and the doctor at her side right now. Marilyn had felt the same way, barring even her mother from being in the room when she lost her first child.
She blinked at the tears blurring her vision. “I’ll keep them safe.”
Before she broke down, she dashed out of the house and down the street to her own home. She heard David’s voice the moment she opened the door. His deep voice, coming from her bedroom, coaxed Luanne and Geddes in song. She gently shut the front door.
As she settled in the doorway to her bedroom, she studied how he patted Geddes’s back. Luanne lay on her side, holding her brother’s hand. David looked Marilyn’s way. A frown settled on his angular face, and she knew he was not pleased to see her.
She glanced pointedly over her shoulder, indicating she’d tell him why she was here once he joined her in the parlor. He nodded.
Marilyn settled into her parlor and waited for David’s song to end.
He strolled slowly into the room. “Why are you here instead of with Ellen?”
“She asked me to leave.”
His brows rose.
“Not to leave her, per se, but to take care of Luanne and Geddes.”
“How do you feel about that?”
She curled her hands into fists. “I don’t know,” she said, looking down. “I can’t think straight. I’ve been where Ellen is too many times. There’s a part of her that will never be fine again. For as long as she lives, she will wonder what this child would have looked like, what its personality would have been like, and whether she did something to cause the loss.”