by Leigh, Nerys
“She already had the name when I bought her. No idea why they called her that.”
“Does her milk taste of peas?”
He laughed. “Not that I’ve noticed.”
She stared at the cow. “I don’t know how to milk a cow. There’s a lot I don’t know about farming.” She looked up at him, her expression uncertain as if she thought he’d be disappointed in her.
He wanted to kiss away the lines of worry from her forehead so badly he had to swallow before speaking. “That doesn’t matter, I can teach you everything you need to know. I’m looking forward to it.”
She smiled. “I am too.”
His heart shimmied around his chest. He wished he’d offered her his arm when they’d started walking so he could be as close to her now as he wanted to be.
“Lots of the advertisements from the men in the marriage service’s pamphlet said they wanted a woman with experience of farm work. Some of them even listed the skills they wanted her to have. They sounded like they were advertising for a farmhand rather than a wife.”
Daniel shook his head in disbelief. “Some men have their priorities badly wrong.”
He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than the love of a good woman, her soft touch to soothe away the work of a long day, to be wrapped in her love the way he would wrap her in his. He’d grown up seeing it with his parents and it was all he’d ever wanted for his own life.
“That’s why I answered you,” she said, her eyes ahead of her as they walked. “You sounded like you wanted a wife, someone to share your life with, to raise a family with.” She glanced at him quickly before looking to the front again. “To love.”
She understood. He’d known she would. “That’s exactly what I wanted.”
She flashed him another glance. “Me too.”
Now he really wanted to kiss her. He pushed his hands into his pockets.
As they walked a bee buzzed past, its flight catching Sara’s eye.
“That’s one of mine,” he said, for something to say other than begging her to let him wrap her in his arms.
She stared into the distance where the bee had flown, even though it was far out of sight now. “How can you tell?”
“It had my brand on it. It’s very difficult to see unless you know where to look. It’s a tiny DR. Takes me an age to brand them all.”
Her mouth opened and she gaped up at him in momentary astonishment before he could no longer keep his lips from twitching.
She pushed his arm. “You’re teasing me.”
He grinned and looked down at the path ahead of him. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
He raised his eyes and they gazed at each other until his heart was racing and she looked away again. Could this woman really be his wife? He felt as if he should pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming..
“How many hives do you have?” she said after they’d walked for a while in silence.
“Twelve at the moment. I’ve just begun harvesting this year’s honey, now the trees have been flowering for a while. The bees love the blossom. It makes the best tasting honey too.”
“Was that what I had this morning? Because it was delicious.”
“It was. I’m glad you like it.” Glad was an understatement. He was thrilled.
“Is it difficult, the harvesting?”
“Not really, not if you know what you’re doing and you’re careful. There’s a book by a man called Langstroth that’s been real useful helping me understand the bees. We get along a lot better now.”
“Don’t you get stung?”
He smiled ruefully. “I can’t tell you it’s never happened, but I’ve learned how to not rile them. The more relaxed they are, the less likely they’ll sting.”
They’d reached the farm’s extensive orchard and Sara came to a halt, turning in a slow circle to take in the trees in their various stages of flowering and fruiting. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed.
He always thought the same thing, although right now it was hard for him to look at anything other than his wife.
“Having this many mature fruit trees was another reason I bought this place. Took me an age to get them all pruned right, especially at the beginning when I didn’t really know what I was doing. Most of them were overgrown and weren’t producing as much as all the books said they should have been. But the year after I moved in I had so much fruit I could barely keep up with picking it all. I lived on peaches and cherries and plums and oranges and apples for months. Now I sell more than I eat.”
“Mrs Gibson, our cook, made the most delicious cherry pie. I begged her to teach me how to make it. May I have some cherries when they’re ready?”
“They’re just about ready now.” He pointed to a heavily laden cherry tree with its fruit beginning to darken. “We’ll have to start picking in about a week. You can have anything you want. And make as many pies as you want. I’m serious, there can never be too many pies.”
Her laughter made him feel like his feet had left the ground. He tried to think of something else funny to say.
“It smells wonderful.” She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “And I can hear humming.”
When she opened her eyes again, he pointed up into the branches of a nearby peach tree that was flowering. “Just keep looking.”
She stared at where he’d pointed and after a few seconds her eyes widened. “I see them. They’re everywhere!”
He forced his eyes from her face and looked up at the thousands of bees stripping the flowers of their nectar. The whole canopy was awash with movement. “They go elsewhere too, but they can’t get enough of the fruit trees. That’s why I have the hives nearby.”
Her expression of delight helped ease some of the worry he’d been carrying with him for weeks; that she wouldn’t be happy on his little farm. She’d lived in a large, fancy house in New York, with servants and everything taken care of for her. In comparison, the life he could offer her was nothing but hard work.
The truth was, he’d been astounded she’d had any interest at all in him, and he still wasn’t entirely sure why she had chosen this life over the privilege she’d enjoyed at home. He wasn’t sure why she had chosen him. For weeks, the joy of knowing she was coming had been tainted by the fear that she would be disappointed once she arrived.
And yet, here she was. She’d married him. And so far she seemed to be happy.
No one was more surprised than he was.
“I have wheat and barley and corn fields, a fairly big vegetable plot, and you know about Peapod and the chickens for eggs,” he said as they carried on past the orchard. “It’s really just a smallholding to give me some extra to sell so I can buy whatever else we need.”
“You don’t keep any animals for meat?”
He winced internally at her question. He’d hoped it wouldn’t occur to her to wonder about the relative lack of animals on the farm, but he should have known she was too smart for that. “Uh... no. We buy all our meat from the other farms or Mr Walker, the butcher in town.” Daniel cleared his throat and looked at the ground, but he couldn’t help noticing her scrutiny.
“I get the feeling there’s more to this.”
He glanced at her and smiled. Definitely far too smart to miss anything. “Well, the truth is there were fields on the farm when I bought it that had been used for grazing. When I moved in I bought a pregnant sow and a ewe with a couple of lambs, thinking I would be able to breed them and use the meat.”
“And...?” she prompted when he didn’t elaborate.
“And the pig had her piglets and they and the lambs grew up and eventually it came time that they were ready to be slaughtered. And...” he cleared his throat again, stalling for the right words to come, “it became apparent that I had a problem with becoming emotionally attached to my animals. I couldn’t kill them. I couldn’t even sell them to someone who would.”
Her hand went to her mouth, covering a smile. Was she laughing a
t him?
“What happened to them?”
“I gave them to my parents and told them not to tell me what they did with them. You may have noticed I have a lot of chickens. They weren’t all meant to be for laying. Couldn’t kill them either.” Might as well get all the embarrassing details out there. “I bet you didn’t think you’d be marrying a farmer who doesn’t even have the guts to kill his own food.”
Expecting disappointment when he looked up, he was surprised to see her gazing at him with what looked very much like admiration.
“It doesn’t take guts to kill something,” she said, “but I think it does take guts to care. And, well, when I looked at the chickens this morning I was hoping I wouldn’t have to learn how to kill any of them.”
“So you don’t think your husband is a poor excuse for a supposedly tough frontier man?” He had to know.
She smiled again, her cheeks colouring a little. “I think my husband is exactly what I hoped for.”
He breathed out, relieved. And thrilled. But mostly relieved.
“Are those them?”
He had to look around him to find out what she was talking about. He’d momentarily forgotten why they were there.
“Oh, the beehives. Yes, that’s them.”
The twelve hives were spaced around a grassy area surrounded by shrubs, where they would get enough sun without overheating. He’d made them all himself, based on Langstroth’s plans but with some tweaks and simplifications, and he was proud of them. The bees seemed to like them. He was hoping Sara would too.
“They’re wonderful!” Her face lit up in excitement. “Could I see inside one day?”
“You sure can. We’ll come back in a few days to check the combs, see if any of them are ready to harvest.”
She stared at the hives in silence for a while. “I want to learn everything. I know it must seem strange that someone like me, with my upbringing, would want to do this, but I promise I’m not expecting to have everything done for me. I want to be a real farmer’s wife and be a help to you. If you’ll teach me.”
Daniel fought the huge smile struggling to burst onto his face. “It would be my pleasure.”
God had brought him the perfect wife. That’s all there was to it.
Chapter 6
When Daniel walked into the kitchen through the back door the next morning, Sara was tying on her apron. She smiled as he entered sending a thrill through him that was becoming wonderfully familiar.
He leaned against the doorframe, attempting to look casual. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”
She grimaced prettily. “Too well. I was going to make biscuits for breakfast, but I don’t think I’ll have time before we leave. Will eggs and bacon and bread be OK?”
“Don’t bother with cooking. We can have bread and honey.”
“I have time to cook, just not to bake.”
“Well, actually, there’s something outside I want to show you.” He endeavoured to be the picture of nonchalance.
She stared at him, a small smile creeping onto her face. “What’s going on?”
Apparently, he was failing. “Come with me and you’ll find out.”
Looking uncertain but intrigued, she took off her apron and laid it over the back of a chair.
He led the way from the house, a little nervous and more than a little excited about what he was about to do. He’d been waiting a month for this moment, right from when he received Sara’s letter accepting his proposal.
A palomino mare he’d bought from his parents and got up extra early to fetch stood patiently tethered outside the barn.
“Her name’s Rosie,” he said as Sara approached. “I bought her from my pa. My niece named her, kind of. She was only two at the time so it came out more like Wosie, but my brother got the gist.”
“She’s beautiful,” Sara breathed, touching her hand to the mare’s golden neck. She laughed as Rosie turned her head to nudge her shoulder.
“She’s yours,” Daniel said.
Sara’s hand stilled against the horse’s creamy-white mane. “Mine?”
“You said you love to ride and what better place is there to ride than out here?” He swept one hand to encompass the mountains with their blue peaks touching the sky in the distance beyond the paddock. “And I thought you’d be missing your own horse.”
He watched as she gazed up at the palomino, hoping he’d made the right choice. Should he say he could get her another if she’d prefer?
“She’s the most beautiful horse I’ve ever seen,” she said, her voice tinged with awe. “You really got her for me?”
He breathed out in relief. Personally, the colour of a horse didn’t make any difference at all to him, but he knew these things were important to a woman. “I thought you’d want to ride. I don’t mind at all if you ride River and I know Will wouldn’t mind you using Ginger, but I hoped we could go riding together. Rosie’s a good, strong, calm horse.”
To his shock, Sara turned from Rosie and wound her arms around his waist, laying her head against his chest and murmuring, “Thank you. She’s wonderful.”
His heart racing, Daniel gently placed his palm against the top of her back. “I’m real glad you like her.”
Too soon she stepped back, and he immediately missed the feel of her against him.
Wiping her fingers beneath her eyes, she gave him a tremulous smile. “I’m sorry I keep getting emotional. It’s just, I do miss my horse and this is the nicest thing you could have done for me.”
He could have laughed for joy. He’d got it right, and even better, it had got him a hug. Today was shaping up to be one of the best days of his life and he hadn’t even had breakfast yet.
~ ~ ~
Sara walked out into the sunshine, tucking a stray strand of hair into her bonnet. In front of the barn Daniel was hitching River and Rosie to the wagon.
He’d given her a horse, simply because he knew she would miss her own. She still couldn’t get over it. An animal like Rosie would have been no small expense, not to mention the extra she would cost in feed. But he’d done it anyway, to make her happy. Just when she thought he couldn’t be any more amazing, he proved her wrong.
Thank you for Daniel, Lord, she prayed silently as she watched him. Thank you for bringing us together. I know I began to doubt after Henry that I would ever find a man I could love, but Daniel is perfect.
She looked at the bunkhouse as she walked across the yard. There was no sign of movement and Will hadn’t been at breakfast.
Daniel looked up as she approached, his eyes flicking down to her blue silk dress and back up again. She’d changed after breakfast, not wanting to risk spilling anything on her best Sunday clothes.
“That’s a real pretty colour,” he said, returning his attention to buckling River’s trace but darting glances at her. “It suits you.”
She looked down at herself. “Thank you. This has always been my favourite dress to wear to church.”
He finished what he was doing and straightened, pushing his hands into his pockets and leaning against the side of the wagon. He was wearing black trousers instead of his usual denim, with a white shirt and light brown waistcoat. Dressing up looked exceptionally good on him. Although she had to admit, everything looked exceptionally good on him.
“Well,” he said, “I probably shouldn’t be thinking about this, it being a church service and all, but you’ll definitely be the prettiest girl there.”
She hoped she wasn’t blushing again, but she suspected she was. “Thank you.” Was it her imagination, or did she sound slightly breathless?
He pushed away from the buggy and held out his hand to her. “May I assist you into your carriage, my lady?”
She bobbed a curtsey. “Why, thank you, my lord.”
If she hadn’t been breathless before, she certainly was by the time he’d helped her up into the wagon, which seemed to involve a little more contact than was strictly necessary. Not that she was complaining at all.
&n
bsp; Bess trotted up to them and Daniel rubbed her head before ordering her to stay and climbing onto the wagon. He picked up the reins from the seat between them.
Sara glanced at the bunkhouse. “Isn’t Will coming?”
Daniel’s smile faded. “He isn’t home yet.”
“Isn’t home yet?” she said, confused. “Where is he?”
He heaved a sigh as they pulled around the house and onto the road that would take them into town. “I guess this is as good a time as any to tell you. You were going to find out soon enough anyway. My brother is a good man and there’s no one I’d rather have working with me on the farm, but he isn’t exactly what you’d call respectable.” He paused as if reluctant to speak his next sentence. “He’s a regular at Green Hill Creek’s saloon.”
Sara tried to keep the shock from her face, but she wasn’t at all sure she succeeded. “The saloon? You mean...”
“Gambling, to start with.”
“He gambles his money away?”
“Oh no, he’s actually very good at that part. Always could beat me at poker. He plays a few games, wins a lot of money,” he glanced at Sara and then back at the road, “and then spends the rest of the night losing it on drink and women.”
This time Sara gasped. “You mean...” She tried to think of a polite way to say it and couldn’t. “Prostitutes?”
“Yeah.” He sighed again. “Please don’t think less of him. I meant it when I said he’s a good man. You’d have to go a long way to find one better. He’ll do anything for anyone. It’s just that he’s lost himself. I’ve been praying for him for a long time.”
“Doesn’t he believe in God?”
Daniel shrugged. “Used to. Gave his life to Jesus and everything when he was young, even before I did. But when he reached seventeen or so he got in with the wrong crowd, started doing the wrong things, and fell away. I think he still believes, he’s just stopped following Him right now.”
Sara was quiet for a while, trying to reconcile the kind, funny, hardworking brother-in-law she knew with the man Daniel had just described to her. It wasn’t easy. “I think I’ll be praying for him too.”
