by Davis, Mary
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, her voice full of emotion now. After a pause and a breath, she asked, “How much farther to your farm?”
Lucas looked down at her. “Our.” He had to get her thinking of the place as hers, that she belonged there with him.
Cinda smiled shyly. “All right. How much farther to our farm?”
Lucas smiled. “I suspect just after lunch tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” She halted. “But I thought we were going to get there today. No more traveling unpredictabilities. You said there was nothing more about the trip I needed to know.”
“We aren’t traveling at the same reckless speed as the stage coach. I thought you would appreciate the slower pace.” Also he could use the extra day to get her used to the idea of belonging on the farm with him. He didn’t want this peaceful time with her to be over so soon.
“I do.” Cinda’s gaze dropped to the dry prairie grass. “I just thought the trip would finally be over.”
“Well hop in, little lady,” he said in an old-timer drawl, thumbing his hand back to the wagon, “and I’ll see if we can make it home before the moon is high in the sky. You’ll have to hold on tight. I can’t promise we’ll stay upright, but I’ll do my best.”
Cinda laughed at his antics. “No, thank you. I think I’ll walk.”
❧
Cinda knew Lucas was a man with whom she could and would fall in love and they could build a life together. She found she was comfortable around him. He made her laugh and feel at ease, never pushy, always letting her make her own decisions, like where to sit in the stage. It was a small thing, but it was the type of thing her aunt wouldn’t have let her do—end of discussion.
She couldn’t remember the last time she walked with someone who could match her own natural stride. It was her father, she supposed, but then he had generally altered his gait to match hers as she normally did for others. Her new husband was probably doing the same for her. His long legs glided along smoothly. He didn’t seem to mind slowing down for her. In fact, he stopped for breaks before she needed them. For a man who was in an all fire hurry to leave town, he wasn’t in much of a hurry now.
Lucas gave her the option of going a little out of their way to a town to stay the night in another hotel or cutting across the countryside and sleeping in the wagon. She opted for the shortcut. Lucas wouldn’t have suggested it if it weren’t safe, and he had a feather mattress in the wagon that would be as comfortable as any hotel. She felt rather adventuresome and seemed to surprise her husband.
They stopped by a babbling creek among the trees and ate beans, potatoes, and biscuits Lucas amazingly cooked over the open fire. She caught him staring at her again. While he was doing every little chore, whether building the fire or tending the horses, he stole glances at her. What was on his mind? She felt her cheeks warm as he came closer.
“If you’re tired, you can go to bed.” He pointed to the back of the wagon. “I know the traveling has been hard on you.”
“I’m not tired. I slept well last night, and today’s travel was pleasant as you promised.”
His mouth curved up slightly, seemingly pleased at the fact she noticed he had tried to make today more enjoyable. “Montana is a might prettier place now that you’re here.”
She smiled at his compliment.
His gaze softened. “You’re very beautiful.”
“Me?”
“Yes, Ma’am. You are the only one here. Hasn’t anyone told you that before?”
Her uncle and friends had, but she didn’t think that counted. “I didn’t think you thought so. I mean you never—I mean, you don’t exactly get to choose a mail-order bride on looks. It’s a sight unseen deal.”
“Oh, I noticed,” he said with a grin. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve wanted to make this marriage real. It’s just that you have been so overwrought and tired from the journey. I thought it best to wait; but I don’t want you to think I don’t want you, because I do.”
She diverted her gaze to her husband’s chin, his shirt front, the trees in the distance behind him. “I’m not tired tonight.”
He stepped closer and caressed her upper arms. “Are you sure?”
She looked up at his tender face and nodded.
He kissed her tenderly before taking her in his arms.
ten
Lucas pointed to the horizon. “There it is. Our farm.” He wrapped his arm lovingly around her shoulder and drew her close. “We’re home.”
Home. That sounded nice. Her very own home. A place for the two of them to build their lives together. She looked up at her new husband and straightened herself. For the first time in years she didn’t feel tall. In fact, next to Lucas she felt short. . . almost.
As they got closer, Cinda could see the house was quite large. The other homes they had passed on their journey were considerably smaller. “It’s so much larger than I expected.”
“My father built it for my mother. Most of what my father did was for my mother.” He gave her shoulder a little squeeze. “She said when they were first married, she was afraid my father would go broke. He would get her everything she said she liked. She quickly learned to keep quiet except for her deepest heart’s desires. This was her deepest of all desires—a home in which to raise a family.”
He looked down at her, warmth in his bright blue eyes. “Now it’s our turn.” He paused then said, “How many children do you want?”
“A whole house full,” she said shyly and looked away. “I was an only child. I always wanted brothers and sisters. I was very lonely when my parents died. I would dream about belonging to a big family. That probably sounds silly to you.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
He sounded so sincere she was drawn to look back up at him. His smile consumed his entire face, even his eyes were smiling. She couldn’t help but smile back.
“A big family sounds real nice.” His soft tone caressed her.
As they pulled into the quiet farmyard, Cinda took in the full view at once. She could see the weathered two-story house was missing curtains in the windows and probably a woman’s touch on the inside as well. Across the yard stood a great barn with a chicken coop nestled next to it. There were several chickens wandering free around the yard pecking at the ground. On the other side of the barn was a corral with two horses at the water trough. When the wagon rolled in the yard, the two corralled horses raised their heads and nickered a greeting. The team hitched to the wagon snorted in response and bobbed their heads.
They recognize each other. How cute.
Lucas pulled the wagon to a halt with a “whoa.” He seemed anxious, looking around for something. He jumped down and turned, lifting Cinda to the ground. She noticed he had a strange look on his face, like he was nervous, expectant.
He probably wondered what she thought of the place. She wouldn’t keep him waiting any longer. “It’s wonderful, Lucas.”
He gave her half a smile before the barn doors burst open. Two identical, carrot-topped, ragamuffin girls ran across the yard squealing, scattering squawking chickens. Their worn dresses were too small for them and so dirty you could hardly tell the dresses were once yellow. At least Cinda thought they were yellow.
Lucas took a few steps forward and knelt down on one knee with open arms. They plowed into him, but he remained solid and scooped them up.
“We missed you soooo much,” they said in unison, then smothered his cheeks with kisses.
“I missed you both soooo much.” His voice thick with adoration.
A young man exited the barn and came toward them. He was built a little more slender than Lucas. In his Levi’s and tan shirt he could pass for Lucas’s twin at a distance. As he reached Lucas, Cinda could tell he was a couple of inches shorter and didn’t have quite the same pronounced features as Lucas. He was a younger version.
“We expected you back two days ago,” the young man said. She realized he must be Lucas’s brother.
“It looks like y
ou were expecting us,” Lucas said, letting his gaze run up and down his dirt-covered brother. “We ran into a few snags.”
The brother looked past Lucas and eyed Cinda. “She’s a pretty one. Didn’t expect that. Tall too. Have you sampled her cooking? I can almost taste a good home-cooked meal.”
He was in for a surprise the first time he came visiting for supper and found out she couldn’t cook. What Cinda really wanted to know about was the two dirty five-year-old girls in Lucas’s arms. He said he had no children, but these two greeted him with a great deal of fondness, and he returned the feelings. Were they the brother’s girls?
Cinda was rooted in place next to the wagon. She wanted to know who these people were, but she couldn’t get herself to move forward. Lucas turned around with his arms still brimming with the two wiggly little girls and led his brother over to her. She took a deep breath.
“Trev, this is Cinda.”
“Howdy,” he said, touching his thumb and finger to his hat.
“Cinda, this is my brother, Trevor.” Lucas looked at Cinda, waiting.
“It’s nice to meet you, Trevor.” Why hadn’t she thought to ask if he had any siblings? “Are these your girls?” she asked Trevor. It would set her mind at ease when he said yes.
“Nope,” was his simple reply.
No! Then who did they belong to? She wasn’t sure what to say to the unexpected brother, but she wanted to be polite. “Do you live near here?”
Trevor looked to Lucas, then back to Cinda. “Not near. Here.” He said it so matter-of-factly, like Cinda should have known already.
Cinda looked up at Lucas. He had a look that Cinda could only interpret as surprise.
Lucas seemed uncomfortable and couldn’t hold her stare. He jiggled the two girls in his arms and asked, “Who is who?” He looked from one redheaded little girl to the other and back again.
The girls giggled and said together, “You know.”
Lucas moved each girl up and down as if weighing them and said to the one in his left arm, “You feel like you weigh just enough to be Davey.”
The little girl giggled a yes.
Lucas turned to the girl in his right arm and said, “That must make you Dani.”
“Yes,” the girl chuckled.
He looked hesitantly back at Cinda and said, “These are my nieces.”
Cinda was relieved. They weren’t his.
Lucas raised the girl on the right a little higher and introduced her. “This is Daniella.” Then he raised the other girl a little. “And this is Daphne.”
“Hello, Daniella. Hello, Daphne. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She curtsied slightly to the girls. “And where are your mommy and daddy?”
“They died,” Daniella said.
“Bofe of them,” Daphne said sadly.
She noticed Lucas eyeing her cautiously.
Cinda’s insides tightened. “The girls live here, too?” It was more a statement of recognition than a question.
Lucas nodded.
Surprise!
Two bachelors trying to raise a pair of little girls must be hard. She could understand why they wanted a woman around. She just wished her husband had forewarned her.
At that moment a horse and rider came racing across the pasture. Everyone turned to watch the rapid approach. The pair entered the farmyard at full speed. When they were almost upon the group, the rider pulled up the horse. Cinda let out a little yelp as the horse skidded to a halt, spraying her dress with dirt. The boy jumped down off his mount before it came to a complete stop. Horse and rider panted. He slapped the dirt from his denim pants.
“Marty, this is Cinda,” Trevor offered with an eager grin.
“Howdy,” Marty greeted gruffly.
Another brother. Surprise.
“Marty, take off your hat,” Lucas reprimanded. The boy did as he was told. “Cinda, this is my sister, Martha.”
Sister! There was absolutely nothing about her that would give anyone reason to believe she was a girl. She was dressed like her brothers, including the hat. Her curly, dark hair was cropped just below her ears and tucked behind them. She walked like a boy. She behaved like a boy. And she looked like a boy.
“Hello, M–Martha,” Cinda stammered out.
“Marty,” the girl spat back.
“Aunt Marty, can we ride Flash?” Daniella asked.
Marty looked to Lucas for approval.
“Please?” Daphne begged, lacing her hands together.
Lucas nodded and raised each of the girls up onto Flash. “You go slow with them. No trotting.”
Lucas gave Cinda a quick, shy glance as he went to the back of the wagon and carried her trunks and the other supplies to the porch. Trevor offered to take care of the horses and led them off to the barn.
Lucas took Cinda inside the house to show her around. There was a sitting room with a couple straight-backed chairs, a worn settee, and a wooden rocker. The dining area had a large wooden plank table with a bench along each side and a chair at each end.
Next to the dining area was the kitchen. It was obvious this was not a room they cared much for. The small worktable was dirty like the rest of the room and piled with semi-clean dishes. The sink had the really dirty dishes. The few shelves were either broken or looked unstable. The whole house looked like all traces of a woman’s care had been erased over time.
Lucas looked ashamed at the house, like he was seeing it for the dump it had become. He probably had been so busy in the fields, with other farm chores and his nieces, that the inside of the house never mattered as long as the roof didn’t leak.
As Cinda looked around the kitchen dumbfounded, Lucas’s brother came in through the kitchen door. He certainly made short work of caring for the horses. He came skidding to a halt and hollered, “Yahoo, home cookin’.”
He surely had a one-track mind.
“Did you leave your manners in the barn?” Lucas glared at his brother.
He removed his hat and held it to his chest. “Howdy, Ma’am. It’s nice to meet you.”
Cinda looked at him, confused. Had he forgotten they had already met in the yard?
“Cinda.” The tentativeness in his voice caught her attention. “This is my brother Travis.”
Cinda looked up at Lucas. “I thought his name was Trevor?”
“No. I’m Trevor,” came a voice from behind them in the din-ing area.
Cinda whirled around to face Trevor smiling back at her. Then she looked to the smiling face of Travis. Twins!
Surprise!
“Most people cain’t tell us apart, so we’ll answer to either name,” Travis offered.
Cinda looked one more time at the smiling brothers and didn’t know how she would ever tell them apart. She looked up at Lucas, who gave her a half-hearted smile, as if to say, please don’t be mad.
Mad? How could she be mad? She was too overwhelmed.
eleven
Lucas showed Cinda the upstairs. There were four bedrooms; the largest one was theirs. He left her with her trunks so she could rest awhile before getting supper ready.
Rest!
She plopped down on the bed. She would never rest again. She put her hands to her cheeks. Oh, what had she done? What had she gotten herself into? Too much was expected of her. Mother to a pair of dirty little girls she couldn’t tell one from the other. She was sure they would have fun fooling her. A tomboy for a sister-in-law. Her hands dropped into her lap. She assumed she was supposed to make a lady of her. A pair of indistinguishable brothers with a single mind—home cooking. Cooking! She couldn’t cook. She had hoped to start out slowly cooking for just one man and hope she didn’t make a mess of it. Instead, she had a whole family that expected her to cook edible meals. Besides the washing and mending, there was the cleaning. This house needed a good scrubbing from top to bottom. She noticed Lucas seemed to realize how bad it was.
It was too much. How could he do this to her? She balled up her hands. Hate and anger vied for dominanc
e which was unlike her, but she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to go home and leave this place far behind. But that was out of the question; she was married now, and this was her home, like it or not. Her aunt’s words came back at her and slapped her in the face. “I hope you don’t regret your hasty decision.” She did regret it. Had her aunt known something she didn’t?
So much was expected of her. It would be hard enough to learn to care for and keep house for one man, but now, there was suddenly a house full. She ran a hand over the threadbare quilt. No doubt they all needed new quilts and clothes, and she was expected to make them. She had no experience. She couldn’t do it. Anger rose in her as she contemplated all there was to do. She wouldn’t do it. She would go down right this minute and inform her new husband that they must live in their own house. His family could stay here, but she would not. She would demand it.
She got up, straightening her dress, and smoothed her hair. Drawing in a deep breath of courage, she glanced in the mirror on the dresser to give herself a quick nod of encouragement. Horrified by what she saw, she stumbled back to the bed and sat down. Her face now had the same scornful look her aunt had worn for years. The pinched lips. The knitted brow. The cold squinty, disapproving eyes.
She was turning into her aunt!
Still able to see herself from where she sat, she stared for several minutes at her reflection in the mirror. She opened her eyes wide, raised her eyebrows, and rubbed at the corners of her mouth. She refused to turn into her aunt.
Her aunt’s words came crashing back to her. “Put hard work in front of you and you will crumble. Mark my words.” Was her aunt right? Was she crumbling at the work put before her?
And whatever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto man, the calm voice of the Lord whispered to her soul.
That was in Colossians. She had memorized it years ago. But could she really do all this family expected and needed her to do? Lord, what have I gotten myself into? What am I to do?
