Where the Heart Is Romance Collection

by Andrea Boeshaar

  Caleb lifted his eyes and glanced around at the others. “Aren’t you going to say grace?”

  “We did say it,” Matthew teased. “Thee is the only one who feels the need to have such a long conversation with the Lord.”

  Caleb’s furrowed eyebrows made it clear he was puzzled. “What?”

  Aunt Cynthia chided her firstborn. “Hush, Matthew. Perhaps Caleb doesn’t know our tradition of silent grace.”

  Leah felt obliged to stick up for her husband. “It’s perfectly all right.” She sent a menacing glare toward Matthew.

  Aunt Cynthia passed a platter of roasted chicken. “Perhaps we should let Mark get the first bite. I don’t want to hear anything else his stomach has to say.”

  Aunt Cynthia drew Leah into a tight embrace. “Thee will be a blessing to Caleb and his children, the same as thee has been to us.”

  Uncle Abram cleared his throat, a sound that signaled it was time for Leah and Caleb to leave. “If thee doesn’t get moving, it will be dark by the time thee gets to Caleb’s farm. Matthew will drive thee.”

  Caleb offered his hand to help Leah into the buggy. She moved to the seat’s far side, expecting Caleb to join her as he had on the trip from the church, but he swung onto his horse instead.

  It was natural, Leah thought. Of course he’d be more comfortable on his horse. He’d tethered the animal to the buggy after the ceremony at the church, but now he probably felt the desire to be mounted rather than squeeze his long legs into the cramped buggy.

  Matthew flicked the reins, and the buggy pulled away from the place she’d called home for the last seven years. She turned to give a last wave, but her eyes filled with tears at the sight of her dear aunt crying into her apron.

  Leah’s heart yearned to jump from the buggy and run to her aunt, but one thought stilled her: Perhaps Aunt Cynthia’s tears were tears of joy. She’d been excited about Leah’s marriage, extolling Caleb’s virtues, and already planning for a spring baby.

  A baby. Leah’s body grew warm at the thought. Tonight she’d finally discover the secret that bonded a man to a woman. Tonight would be the first of many nights she’d share a bed with her husband.

  She watched Caleb as his horse cantered beside the buggy. How wonderful he looked atop his chestnut stallion. With his dark features and straight back, he reminded her of a knight, bent on accomplishing some noble deed. He held the reins loosely, confident in his equestrian skills, and kept his gaze fixed to the roadway.

  How blessed she was to be married to Caleb. Uncle Abram had done her few favors since he’d grudgingly taken her in, but she’d find it easy to forget her uncle’s callous remarks, now that he’d arranged a union with such a beautiful man.

  Matthew turned the buggy onto a drive that bordered a small stream. How odd Leah had never come this way before. Since she’d come to live with her aunt and uncle, she’d only gone to First Day meetings and the general store.

  “Here’s thy new home, Leah,” Matthew called over his shoulder.

  Leah leaned forward to get her first look at Caleb’s house. Her hand flew to her open mouth as the building came into view. Two stories tall and painted a pristine white, the house sat among a cluster of towering oaks. It was double the size of other farmhouses and had one feature she’d never seen before—a wall full of windows. Glass was so expensive, no one built a house with more windows than were absolutely necessary. Caleb Whitaker certainly wasn’t a poor farmer, struggling to feed his family. Only a well-to-do family could afford such a luxury.

  The buggy crossed a wooden bridge over the stream and pulled to a stop in front of a wide porch. Caleb dismounted and walked to the buggy. “Welcome home, Leah. I hope you’ll find everything to your liking.”

  Leah looked into her husband’s kind eyes and smiled. “Thee has a beautiful home. How many families live here?”

  “Just my two children and Aunt Rose.”

  Leah turned to take in the scene again. What miracle had made her the mistress of such a lovely home? Had one brief ceremony changed her from poor relation to gentry?

  A dark-skinned man, dressed in work pants and a shirt, walked up to Caleb’s horse. “Afternoon, ma’am,” he said, tugging at the brim of his hat.

  “Oh Joseph,” Caleb said. “Allow me to introduce Leah Wall. She’ll be staying here and helping with the children while I’m gone.”

  Leah cut her gaze to Caleb. That was a strange way to introduce her. It made her sound more like a servant than a wife.

  “Leah, this is Joseph. He’s been working here for almost ten years and will continue to run the farm while I’m away.”

  Leah made her way out of the buggy. “It’s nice to meet thee,” she said, offering her hand to Joseph.

  Joseph removed his hat and took Leah’s hand. “Thank you, ma’am. Anything you need, anything at all, you just let me know.”

  Leah returned the man’s warm smile, wondering if Joseph was one of the many runaway slaves that had passed through Wayne County on their way to freedom. If Caleb was an abolitionist, it would sit well with the Friends who disapproved of her marrying outside the group.

  “Where is everyone?” Caleb asked.

  “Little Stephen’s in the barn worrying about the mare. I imagine Olivia’s inside with Miss Rose.”

  Caleb handed the reins of his horse to Joseph and motioned toward the barn. “Shall we check on my son?” he asked Leah.

  Leah looked up at her cousin. “Thank thee for driving me, Matthew.”

  “Will I see thee at First Day meeting?”

  “Of course.”

  Matthew waved farewell then drove the buggy down the drive. Leah fell into step beside Caleb. Ever since Uncle Abram had spoken to her about the Whitakers, she’d been anxious to meet Caleb’s children.

  The white barn stood out against the tall blue Indiana sky. The earthy smells of fresh hay and animals met Leah as she and Caleb stepped into the barn, and the chirps of swallows echoed in the rafters.

  “Some say swallows bring the farmer good luck,” she said, gesturing toward the roof.

  “I’ve never understood why some farmers chase them out of their barns. The mess they make is a small price to pay for the hundreds of insects they eat.”

  “Papa!” A dark-haired boy straddling a stall gate jumped off and ran toward Caleb. “I think Snowdrop is ready to foal. She’s been acting peculiar. Joseph says it’s almost time.”

  Caleb placed a hand on the boy’s back and squatted to his eye level. “Could be. Joseph knows more about horses than any man I know. Let’s have a look at her.”

  Stephen ran back to the stall. The dappled gray mare lay in the hay, nickering softly. Caleb unlatched the gate and went to the horse’s side. “Easy girl,” he said. “Everything’s going to be just fine.” He placed his hands on the horse’s side, pressing every few inches. “I believe Joseph’s right, son. We’ll have a foal by morning. But there’s no need for you to be out here bothering the mother. Snowdrop needs some peace and quiet.”

  Stephen’s shoulders slumped in obvious disappointment. “I don’t want to miss it, Papa. Joseph says he’s going to sleep out here tonight. May I stay with him?”

  “Let me talk to Joseph,” Caleb answered, “and I’ll let you know before bedtime.”

  Stephen’s glum expression changed to curiosity when he noticed Leah. “Who’s that, Papa?”

  “This is the lady I told you about, son. Leah’s going to be your new mother.”

  Stephen’s eyes, the same blue as his father’s, widened. “It’s today? Today’s the day my new momma comes?”

  “It’s today.”

  Stephen left his father’s side and approached Leah. “Hello.”

  Leah smiled. “Hello. Snowdrop is a beautiful mare. Is this her first baby?”

  “It sure is.” Stephen ran back to the stall. “See that white spot on her head? Olivia said it looked like the flowers that grow by the stream, so we call her Snowdrop. Do you have a horse?”

  “No,
but if I did, it could never be as beautiful as Snowdrop. What will thee call her foal?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. I like the name Star, but Olivia says we have to wait to see the foal before we name it. Have you ever seen a horse being born?”

  “I certainly have. Horses make great mothers.”

  Caleb put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Where is your sister, Stephen?”

  “In the house with Aunt Rose. She made a cherry pie. I begged her for a slice, but she said she put frog guts in it.” Stephen turned to Leah. “Don’t worry. She just said that so I wouldn’t sneak a piece.”

  Leah hid her smile behind her fingers. What an adorable child. So full of life and love and already wise to the scheming of big sisters.

  “I’m sure Olivia will share the pie now that we’re home,” Caleb assured him. He winked conspiratorially at Leah and walked toward the house.

  She’d already made an ally, Leah thought as she walked beside Caleb. Stephen had accepted her easily. But earlier that morning Caleb had warned her about Olivia. The girl had been eight years old when her mother died, old enough to remember her mother’s loving touch and old enough to feel the dreadful pain of loss.

  Stephen ran through an open doorway at the side of the house. “Olivia! Papa’s home, and he brought our new mother! Where are you, Olivia?”

  Leah followed the boy through the doorway and stepped into a spacious kitchen. A large wood-burning iron stove took up most of one wall, and cupboards lined another. Pink-tinted light from the setting sun streamed through the large windows.

  “Papa,” Stephen said, “don’t forget about the pie.”

  “I won’t forget. Run upstairs and clean up.”

  “And then we’ll have pie?”

  “Do what I said. Then we’ll talk about pie.”

  “If I’m going to spend the night in the barn, why should I clean up?”

  “No clean hands, no pie.”

  Stephen grinned at his father and ran upstairs.

  “Caleb, is that you?” A lady’s voice called from another room.

  “Yes, Aunt Rose.”

  “Come into the parlor.”

  Caleb turned to Leah. “My aunt is most anxious to meet you.”

  She nodded to Caleb and followed him into the parlor. A gray-haired woman, dressed in a dark blue skirt and white lacy blouse, sat on an upholstered settee. A wooden cane was propped against the edge of a nearby table.

  “Good evening.” The woman smiled warmly. “I am Rose Martin, Caleb’s aunt. Won’t you have a seat?”

  “Thank thee,” Leah answered as she moved to a matching chair near the fireplace.

  Caleb stood near Rose, his hands behind his back. “How are you feeling today, Rose?”

  “Fine, Caleb, just fine. Stop worrying.” Rose turned her gaze on Leah. “Rheumatism. It gets worse with each birthday, but I still get around.” She gestured to the cane. “Are you hungry? We’ve had our dinner, but I can prepare a plate for you.”

  “Please don’t go to the trouble,” Leah answered. “Caleb and I ate at my aunt and uncle’s house.”

  “How nice,” Rose replied. “Have you met the children?”

  “I met Stephen,” Leah answered.

  Rose’s smile widened. “I’m heartened to learn you met our whirlwind of a boy and lived to tell the tale. The only time that boy is quiet is when he’s sleeping. Caleb, Olivia’s in her room. Will you call her?”

  “Of course,” Caleb answered, but before he’d taken two steps a young girl appeared in the doorway.

  There was no rough-and-tumble play dress for this girl. Olivia sported a blue hooped skirt with red piping, a matching jacket, and a white blouse with a lacy collar. The girl’s glossy black shoes reflected the white lace around the hem of her drawers.

  “Good evening, Papa,” Olivia said and curtsied.

  The girl looked like a fine porcelain doll, her clothing fancier than anything Leah had ever owned. Was this normal dress for the Whitaker household? Leah looked at Rose, but when she caught the older woman’s gaze, Rose covered her lips with a handkerchief and looked out the window.

  Caleb stepped back, a frown on his face. “Why, Olivia. What’s this all about? Your Sunday best on a Friday?”

  “I simply wanted to look nice. Isn’t that all right?”

  Caleb tilted his head. “I suppose so.”

  Olivia moved closer to Leah’s chair, her hooped skirt swaying back and forth like the bell it was designed to imitate. “How do you do?”

  “I am pleased to meet thee,” Leah answered in the same formal tone Olivia had used. “Thee looks lovely.”

  “Thank you.” Olivia touched the long curls of her auburn hair. “Why do you wear a cap? Not even Aunt Rose still wears a cap.”

  “Olivia,” Caleb said in a warning tone.

  “It’s all right,” Leah said. “I don’t mind Olivia’s curiosity.” She turned her attention back to the child. “I am a member of the Society of Friends. Perhaps thee has heard our sect referred to as Quakers.”

  “Oh.” Olivia’s mouth turned down in a sullen frown. “I know some Quaker girls who attend my school. They’re awfully plain.”

  “They would be proud to hear thee describe them that way. We Friends believe plain dress is part of our testimony of equality. If we dress simply, all Friends can afford the clothing, and no one is tempted to be wasteful or self-seeking. We Friends focus on simplicity and the important things in life. Fashion isn’t nearly as important as seeking the Lord’s will in our life or giving our funds to worthy causes rather than for the latest fashions.”

  Olivia pursed her lips as though deep in thought and then pivoted to return to her father’s side. “I made a cherry pie all by myself. I used the preserves Aunt Rose and I made last spring. I know cherry is your favorite.”

  Caleb placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Thank you, Olivia. But I think you should go upstairs and get ready for bed. We’ll have the pie before you and Stephen go to sleep.”

  “But Papa—” Olivia glanced at Leah from the corner of her eye. “Very well, Papa. I’ll go and change now.”

  After another curtsy, the girl strode from the room. The grown-ups listened to her footsteps as she made her way upstairs and closed a door.

  Rose let out a noisy breath. “Oh my word, Caleb. I told you Olivia would be a problem.”

  Caleb rubbed the back of his neck. “Olivia never has adjusted well to change.”

  Rose shifted in her seat and addressed Leah. “You’ll have your hands full with that one, my dear. Olivia’s trying to show her father she’s old enough to be the lady of the house.”

  Leah’s heart went out to the girl. Of course she’d see a new mother as a threat to her place in the family. “A way will open.”

  Caleb studied her. “A way will open?”

  “It’s a saying we have in meeting when we’re faced with a problem,” Leah said. “The Lord’s way often starts with great difficulty but then eases as He shows us the right path.”

  Rose looked at Caleb, and Caleb returned her gaze. Leah smiled and relaxed in the chair. Of course the Lord would open a way. He wouldn’t have blessed her with a husband, a home, and children unless He had a plan.

  At last the pie was eaten and complimented, the dishes washed, and Stephen allowed to spend the night in the barn. Olivia bade them all a polite good night, and Rose retired to her room for the evening. Caleb and Leah were finally alone.

  A balmy summer breeze fluttered the white lace curtains in the parlor, and the night sounds of insects and a nearby bullfrog filled the awkward silence.

  Caleb cleared his throat. “It seems as though everyone has gone to bed except us and the crickets.”

  Leah’s chest was tight with nerves. Should she take the lead, indicating to her new husband she was ready for her wedding night, or should she wait for him to direct her? She tucked her hands under her legs. “It has been a long day,” she said, forcing the words out of her constr
icted throat.

  “You must be tired.” Caleb took an oil lamp from the table. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you the upstairs bedrooms.”

  Leah’s heart raced as she followed Caleb up the narrow steps to the second floor. It wasn’t fear that made her breaths shallow or panic that made her stomach tighten. It was excitement. In a few minutes, she would finally know the joy of a man’s lips on hers. Before morning, she would be joined to a man in the manner God intended.

  Caleb held the lamp higher to show her the layout of the upstairs rooms. “This is Stephen’s room,” he said, gesturing to a closed door in the middle of the hall. “Olivia’s is directly across. Because of her rheumatism, Aunt Rose’s room is on the ground floor. My room is at the end of the hall, and this will be your room.” He opened a door and set the lamp on a chest of drawers. “Feel free to make any changes. I’m leaving before sunup tomorrow. Rose will explain everything that needs to be done.”

  Leah’s mind raced to understand what Caleb was saying. Her room? His room? Leaving tomorrow?

  “Well,” Caleb said, “if that’s all, I’ll say good night.”

  He was halfway through the door before Leah found her voice. “Wait Caleb, wait.”

  He turned, his eyebrows raised in question.

  “What— Where— I don’t understand, Caleb. I thought…” Leah swallowed hard. “We were married today. Are we not to act as man and wife?”

  Leah knew the moment Caleb understood her question. His gaze dropped to the floor, and his weight shifted from one foot to another. “I thought your uncle… That is, I explained to him I wouldn’t take advantage of the situation. Didn’t either he or your aunt explain the arrangement?”

  “I was told thee needed a wife and that thee found me to be a suitable candidate. Was there more?”

  “No. Not exactly. But, Leah, I never intended to—to—”

  A cold hand of disappointment wrapped around Leah’s heart as she absorbed the reality of the situation. Traitorous tears filled her eyes, and she turned her back to him. “I understand. Thee never intended to make me a real wife. I’m to keep thy house and care for thy family, but I shouldn’t expect more. Is that what thee meant when thee asked me if I agreed to thy bargain?”