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The Wrong Bride: A Christmas Mail Order Bride Romance (Brides and Twins Book 3)

Page 9

by Natalie Dean


  “It’s not that simple,” Bonnie repeated. How could she explain to her easy-going, live-and-let-live husband that the rules of faith were forged in Pittsburgh steel and they were, to the people who obeyed and believed in them, unbreakable?

  “Sure it is,” Z answered with a grin. “God forgives me all the time. He’s had lots of practice forgiving me.”

  He put his arm around Bonnie and held her close to him. “She can’t keep thinking that way,” he said. “That’s crazy, just plumb crazy. If I thought God really acted that way, I might as well start worshiping a cactus for all the comfort I’d get out of it.”

  “You can’t undo those kinds of beliefs, Z.”

  “You don’t believe that way.”

  “I’m married. Our baby won’t be a bastard child.”

  Z winced at her choice of word. “It’s just going to be a baby. It’ll be our nephew or niece, and our baby’s cousin.”

  “I love you,” she answered.

  She didn’t often express her emotions, but she couldn’t refrain from telling him how she felt about him. Z took people as they were and accepted them. He’d accepted Kasia as his sister-in-law without hesitation. He teased her, joked with her, praised her cooking when she prepared something, and amused everyone when he tried to pronounce one of the Polish dishes that she prepared. Grandmother disapproved of foreign food, but she’d developed a fondness for several of the recipes that Kasia had shared, although she was quick to point out that everyone cooked with potatoes and cheese, and so it wasn’t really foreign at all.

  Cabot meandered along, his pace no impediment for the couple who started passionately kissing in the front seat of the wagon. Bonnie knew that Grandmother would think the two of them scandalous for kissing like a courting couple in the wagon on the way back from town, but Z didn’t believe in letting the fires of love turn lukewarm.

  But Bonnie’s comments stayed in Z’s mind throughout the night and through to the next morning. As he and Will Henry rode out to the pasture, Z decided it was worth bringing up.

  “You noticed Kasia’s been on edge lately?”

  Will Henry had noticed, but had so far managed to avoid revealing to anyone that he noticed Kasia a lot more than he should be. He’d gotten used to her humming as she went about the rooms. The songs she hummed stayed in his head all day long. After the night they’d cut down the holly branches, he’d found himself noticing her when she wasn’t aware that anyone was watching.

  Even as big as she was in pregnancy, she was still a petite little thing. She didn’t have the slow, encumbered movements of the Texas women he knew who were expecting children. She somehow was able to move about with the same gliding motion that reminded him of the songs she sang, lively and quick. He didn’t understand the words to any of them, but they were full of joy. Now, though, as her time came nearer, she was quiet and subdued. He didn’t know much about the ways of pregnant women and it wasn’t a subject he could discuss with anyone, but he had noticed what Z was talking about.

  “Bonnie says it’s because she’s afraid she’s going to hell and her baby is going to be sentenced to eternal flames.”

  “Where’d she get a fool notion like that?”

  “Her mother, I guess. I don’t know. I guess they must have different ways of thinking back in Poland.”

  “Can’t Bonnie tell her different?”

  “What can Bonnie tell her? Bonnie and me are married.”

  “Can’t you tell her that no one’s going to hell?”

  Z grinned. “Jury’s out on me, I reckon. But I think the baby is safe.”

  He didn’t bring the subject up again. For one thing, he knew he didn’t have to. Will Henry, once a thought was planted in his head, would nurture it all on his own. For another, Bonnie’s pains started that night and Z was out of bed and out the door to fetch Elsie as soon as he had pulled on his trousers.

  Kasia, hearing the commotion, hastily donned her dress, and hurried into Bonnie’s bedroom. If they were home in Pittsburgh, every woman on the block would have been part of the birthing, but it was different here. She was glad, all the same, that when her time came, as it soon would, that she would bring her baby into a world where people would not think of the infant as a mark of shame. Babies were prized in Texas and her baby would be a Texan, just as Bonnie’s baby would be a Texan.

  “They’re not bad yet,” Bonnie assured her. “It’s just starting, but as soon as I told Z, he rushed off. I think he thinks the baby is going to come any minute.”

  “I should start getting the hot water ready,” Kasia said. “Elsie and I already have the cloths torn up.”

  Bonnie shook her head. Another pain gripped her and she bit her lip, bracing herself in the bed as the pain twisted her.

  “It’s not bad yet,” she said again. “Remember, Mama always said that a woman knows when it’s real.”

  Elsie came into the room then. She must have dressed as quickly as Kasia to arrive so fast.

  “It’s not coming yet,” Bonnie said.

  “No,” Elsie agreed with a smile, “but the men, they’re in a rush for those babies, aren’t they?”

  “Should I let Mrs. Kennesaw know?” Kasia asked.

  “I ‘spect you better,” Elsie agreed as she took a pillow from Z’s side of the bed and placed it under Bonnie’s back. “She’ll fuss something awful if she don’t know this baby is getting ready and on his way to coming out into the world.”

  Kasia walked down the corridor and knocked on Mrs. Kennesaw’s door. At any other time, she would have been hesitant, but this was not any other time.

  “Come in,” the older woman answered immediately, as if she hadn’t been sleeping.

  “Mrs. Kennesaw, Bonnie’s pains have started,” Kasia said as she entered the room. Then she stifled a gasp. Mrs. Kennesaw was on the floor, having fallen when she’d tried to get out of bed without assistance.

  “I heard the noise,” Mrs. Kennesaw said by way of explanation. “I wanted to help. As if there’s anything I can do,” she finished bitterly, gesturing at her legs. “My first great-grandchild is about to be born and I’m well-nigh useless.”

  Kasia had never heard Mrs. Kennesaw refer to her handicap before. “Everyone helps when a baby is coming,” Kasia said. “Let me help you up.”

  “You can’t help me,” Mrs. Kennesaw said. “You’re about ready to go yourself.”

  “I’ll get help.”

  “No! I don’t want anyone seeing me like this.”

  “Do you want to help or not?” Kasia asked her firmly. “There’s plenty to do and you can’t do it sitting on the floor. I’m going to get your grandson and he’ll help you up. Then you can help with the baby. Everyone works when a baby is coming.”

  Mrs. Kennesaw was still protesting when Kasia slipped out of the room. She was standing in front of the door to Will Henry’s bedroom, knocking, before she had time to realize that she was the last person who should be intruding upon him this way. If Elzbieta had come to Texas, this would be the room she would have shared with her Texas husband.

  The door opened. Will Henry, his blond-brown hair disheveled and his eyes heavy with sleep, stood there, looking at her as if he didn’t quite know why she was standing at his bedroom door. He was wearing long underwear and a shirt for decency, no trousers or boots. “What’s the matter? The baby?”

  Kasia shook her head, then nodded. “But that’s not the matter. Your grandmother fell when she heard your brother going to fetch Elsie. She needs someone to help her—"

  Will Henry tore off in the direction of his grandmother’s room, an unlikely figure in his gadzki, his plaid shirt, unbuttoned, flapping around him as he ran. Kasia, despite herself, smiled and followed him to Mrs. Kennesaw’s room. He always seemed so dignified that it was funny for him to appear in such a manner.

  He easily lifted his grandmother up. “Now what the Sam Hill were you trying to do?” he asked her gently as he steadied her into her chair.

  “It should be
obvious. I was trying to get out of bed. This lil’ gal came to tell me that the baby’s starting. She seems to think that I can do something useful.”

  In her wheeled chair, composed once more, Mrs. Kennesaw cast a critical eye at her grandson. “Are you going to stay dressed like a cornfield scarecrow or are you going to put some clothes on? It’s not fitting for you to be showing up dressed like that in front of a young lady. I declare, I don’t know what the Yankovich girls must think of you both. Z meets his bride for the first time and he doesn’t even have a shirt on, and now here you are without your britches.”

  Will Henry started to apologize to Kasia, the color high in his tanned cheeks. Kasia shook her head. “I’m going to start water boiling, even though Bonnie says it’s too early,” she told them, ignoring Will Henry’s embarrassment and his attire. “Mrs. Kennesaw, I’ll push you into the bedroom so that you can see what’s going on and then you and I need to go to the kitchen and get to work.”

  “How do you know so much about babies?”

  “Women are always having babies on Polish Hill,” Kasia said as she stepped in front of Will Henry to steer Mrs. Kennesaw out of the room.

  “Big families?”

  “Very big.”

  “I wanted a big family,” Mrs. Kennesaw said. “But I couldn’t.”

  “Maybe two is enough sometimes,” Kasia said, navigating the chair into the bedroom.

  The pains had increased. Bonnie was pulling at the edges of the blankets. Z, looking more anxious than his grandmother had ever seen him, was standing at her side, his expression revealing a man’s utter helplessness to alleviate what he had helped to cause. Bonnie moaned, and Z moved toward her.

  “Zachary Taylor Kennesaw,” Mrs. Kennesaw called out, “a birthing room is no place for a man. You go out and chop some firewood.”

  “We’ve got plenty of firewood,” he said.

  “Go chop some more,” she ordered. “You’re just going to get in the way in here.”

  Kasia went over to him. “In a few minutes, Bonnie is going to start using bad words,” she explained earnestly. “She doesn’t want you to hear her saying what a terrible man you are and what a horrid thing you have done in making a baby. So, you must leave the room, as all fathers do, so that their feelings are not hurt.”

  Elsie’s big, hearty laugh filled the room and even Bonnie started to smile through her grimace of pain.

  “She will curse in Polish,” Kasia told him gravely, “so that you do not hear what a wicked mouth she has. But such words she will say . . . you would be shocked if you knew how to speak Polish. You must leave the room before you are . . . what is the word in English?” She said something in Polish to Bonnie.

  “Corrupted,” Bonnie muttered, biting her lip. She was irritated that Kasia was finding humor in the circumstances and that others were laughing. There was nothing to laugh about. She murmured a word in Polish and Kasia whirled around.

  “See! Didn’t I tell you? She’s already starting!”

  Z shook his head, laughing. “Bonnie corrupt me? That’ll be the day! Kasia,” he said, “we’ll make a Texan of you yet.”

  “I suspect you’re right,” said Mrs. Kennesaw in a voice that carried throughout the room. “In fact, I think she’s already a Texan.”

  Chapter 13

  It really was a miracle, Will Henry thought. A few hours ago, there was just a lot of noise and bustle as everyone did their part: Grandmother in the bedroom, calmly sitting in her chair, handing Elsie what she needed; Kasia was in the kitchen, keeping the hot water boiling; Z was outside, chopping firewood; and Will Henry went in and out, delivering buckets of water for Kasia so that she didn’t have too much to carry as she brought hot water to the bedroom. Coming from the bedroom were the sounds of Bonnie as she moaned, or cried out. Z looked stricken.

  The two brothers were outside. Z had tried to go to the bedroom, but his grandmother had ordered him out.

  “It’s worse than when she wouldn’t let me get involved in the plans for the wedding,” Z grumbled.

  “You’ll just be in the way,” Will Henry said.

  “In the way? That’s my baby being born!” Then Z stopped himself and looked at his brother. “I shouldn’t have said that, should I?”

  Z knew. Of course he knew. He was a twin, and he knew what no one else did and saw what was invisible to others. “You can say it. I still don’t know what to do about it.”

  “Only one thing you can do,” Z said, relieved to be distracted from the pain and drama of birth. “You’ll have to marry her. She’s a pretty little thing and if you don’t, someone else will. You know it. You don’t want that.”

  “No.” He didn’t want to lose her. “None of this makes any sense, does it?”

  Z shrugged. “It didn’t make sense that Bonnie sashaying into the saloon to horn in on a poker game would have made me fall in love with her, but it did. Sometimes, I guess you just see a woman the way she is inside and after that, you can’t be without her.”

  Could he be without Kasia? He didn’t want to find out. She had made an imprint on the routine of the ranch house. The lightness of her spirit had invaded into his dark corners and he knew that since that night when she’d helped him cut the holly branches, he’d felt the shadows within himself surrender to her sunlight. He hadn’t known what to do when she’d seemed to be the one succumbing to dark thoughts; after Z explained her religious beliefs, Will Henry had wondered how he could make her realize that God had bigger matters to fix than to punish a young Polish girl who’d been deceived by a spoiled rich man’s son.

  All of a sudden, as the brothers stood on the porch, there was a frail, weak cry and Kasia, who had helped with the birth at the end, came running out of the room and opened the front door. “Z!” she cried. “Your baby is here!”

  Z dropped the axe he was holding in his hand and flew from the yard into the house as if he had winged feet. Will Henry, walking, carried the bucket and dumped the water into the big pot over the fire.

  “They’re okay?” he asked. “They’re both okay? Bonnie and the baby?”

  She nodded. Her clothes bore the evidence of the birthing. Her hair had come out of its pins and strands were loose around her face. Her face was flushed from the heat and steam of the water boiling over the fire. “The women back home would say it was an easy birth, but they always like to brag about how bad their time was. The women tell birthing stories like soldiers tell war stories. Bonnie was very strong. She is glad it’s over now, but she doesn’t remember the pain. The women always forget when they hold their babies.”

  “You okay?” he asked guardedly.

  Will Henry was alarmed to see great tears fill her eyes. “A baby is a wonderful thing,” she said, her lip trembling. “How can it be so bad?”

  “Who says it’s bad?”

  Kasia rubbed her belly, swelling out beneath the stained apron that she wore. “My baby won’t be like little Daniel,” she said.

  Daniel. “It’s a boy?”

  Kasia nodded. “A beautiful boy.”

  “He won’t thank his Aunt Kasia for calling him beautiful.”

  “Babies are all beautiful.”

  “Yours will be too,” he told her.

  She shook her head. “My baby is a sin,” she answered. “I did a wrong thing and my baby will suffer for it.”

  “No,” Will Henry said. “Your baby won’t suffer. Didn’t Jesus say, ‘Let the children come unto me’?”

  “They were born the right way. They had a mother and a father.”

  “Kasia . . . every baby has a mother and a father,” he reminded her.

  “A married mother and father.”

  “You don’t know that, and Jesus didn’t ask. There’s nothing in the Bible that says that Jesus told only the young’uns whose parents were married to come unto him. I don’t think people in Bible times acted so holy. If they were so all-fired pure, how come Jesus spent so much time preaching to them?”

  Kasia looked at
him with curiosity. “How can you say such a thing?”

  “Because I’ve read it and I’ve heard it preached and I know in my heart that God loves babies. He expects us to love them too. Didn’t he come to earth as a baby? He didn’t have to, did he? He could have just shown up, all grown into a man. But he started out like we do. He’s going to love little Daniel William Henry Kennesaw and he’s going to love this little boy or girl Kennesaw, too.”

  The words just came out. Will Henry didn’t know until he said it that his decision had been made for him the night when Kasia had helped him cut branches for the Christmas decorating. Kasia didn’t know that he already knew, from Z, of her torment about her baby being born without a father’s name.

  But Kasia was gazing at him with a horrified look on her face. “I won’t give my baby away! This baby is mine! No one else wants this baby but me. The father doesn’t want his baby. And I don’t want any man who doesn’t want my baby!” she cried out. “No one can take her. Not even my sister! Unless I die, then you must make sure that the baby is hers. But as long as I’m alive—"

  “Shhh, shhh,” he said, taking a clean edge of her apron to dab at her tears as he held her in an awkward embrace. “No one said anything about passing off your baby to someone else, even your sister.”

  “You said Kennesaw,” she said as she began to cry. “You want me to give the baby to Bonnie, so the baby will have a name.”

  “I’m a Kennesaw, Kasia. The baby will have my name.”

  It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t anything like what he’d thought his first kiss with his bride-to-be was going to be, but he held her in his arms and she fit just right inside his hug and he kissed her. Gently at first, just on the cheek, but when his lips sought hers, she didn’t turn away.

  “I guess now that the other baby’s born, you’ve got time for courtin’,” said Clem, entering through the front door. “Guess I’ll be fetching the preacher right soon.”

  Will Henry grinned. “I guess you will,” he said, his arm encircling Kasia in a declaration of the decision he had made and her acquiescence. She continued to stare up at him as if she were not quite sure what had happened.

 

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