Those same lips he had enjoyed kissing earlier.
Seeing how easily she and Jake carried on a conversation, he wondered if he could ever enjoy talking to her like that. If he could ever love her.
Jesse said love was a choice. Michael had willingly made that choice once and look where it had gotten him. He had married a woman he thought he knew extremely well. A woman he loved and had given his heart to. Yet, here he was married to a complete stranger he did not love. Just like Haydon had done.
Thoughts of the horror of his older brother’s first marriage stormed over him. The image of Haydon carrying Melanie back to the ranch that last, fateful day when she had fallen to her death, memories of his brother—silent, sorrowful, angry, inconsolable.
There were rumors afterward. Michael had heard Melanie was unfaithful, that Haydon blamed himself for not being attentive enough, for keeping her here when she so wanted to leave. And now she was dead.
But those were only ghosts in his memory now, the bits and pieces a young man gathers as his family struggles to live through a crisis. Try as he may, he couldn’t shake any of them as he listened to Selina talk to Jake. Was he stepping right into the trap he had sworn he would never go near?
All he knew was his heart was in his throat and his mind was spinning around so fast he couldn’t catch it. Everywhere he looked was the possibility of ending up just like his brother, and he had no idea how to avoid the fate that seemed to lie in wait to swallow him whole.
Selina dried the dishes and put them away. Over and over she pondered Michael’s kiss. She wanted more. But until she was certain it was her he was thinking of and not Aimee or some woman who didn’t exist, she wouldn’t share his bed no matter how much she wanted to. It was a good thing Jake showed up when he did. She wasn’t sure what would’ve happened if he hadn’t. And that would not have been good.
Tomorrow she’d get busy and make herself a few more dresses and she’d wear her hair down more often, just because Michael liked it that way.
She still couldn’t believe she was wearing a dress just to please a man. But Michael was worth it, so she would do whatever it took to win his heart and to hold on to him. She wasn’t going to let Aimee steal her man.
Finished with cleaning up the kitchen, she wiped her hands on the towel and hung it on the peg above the sink, then headed over to where Michael was sitting in the living room with his Bible.
She sat down.
“Why didn’t you tell me you could draw?”
Selina yanked her head toward him.
“The first I heard of it was when you told Jake. What else should I know about you?”
“Ain’t much else to tell.”
“Where did you learn to doctor people?”
“Doc taught me.” Selina chuckled. “With six brothers who always had cuts and broken bones, Doc said it would save him a heap of trouble iffen I learned. When the boys got older, every free chance I got I went with either Doc or Josephine, the midwife back home, to learn not only how to doctor, but how to birth babies. I just wished I would have learned before it was too late.”
“Too late for what?”
“My cousin Lou Ellen. She died givin’ birth. Wouldn’t have happened iffen there had been someone there to help her.”
“Earlier you said you miss your home. What do you miss about it?”
“My family mostly.”
“Would you mind drawing me something?”
“Now?”
“Yes. Now.”
“I ain’t got no paper or pencil.”
“I do.” Michael walked over to his desk, and when he came back, he handed her a thin square board with a stack of papers on it and two sharpened pencils.
“What do you want me to draw?”
“Something about Kentucky that means something to you.”
She nodded.
Michael read his Bible while she drew.
The picture in her mind slowly came to life on the paper. When it was just the way she wanted it, she smiled, then looked over at Michael. “I’m done.”
Michael stood behind her. “Selina, it’s beautiful.”
“That’s the house I grew up in. On the porch are the rockers my pa made before my ma died. Hangin’ from the tree over yonder is a swing he’d made for all of us. It’s ratty now, but I drew it as I recollected it when it was new. All them trees—” she pointed to the ones in the drawing “—they’re hickory nut trees. And that’s the river we drew water from and caught fish from. It’s a whole lot bigger than the ones y’all have here.”
She continued to describe the boulders nearby, the different kinds of bushes and flowers. “Well, that’s it. That’s my home. Old home, anyways.”
“It’s very pretty. You are one talented, gifted lady.”
“Gifted? I ain’t gifted. Talents and gifts come from the Lord. The Holy Spirit does the drawin’. I just sit down and let Him use my fingers. Speakin’ of gifts and the Holy Spirit, would you read to me outta the Good Book? It’s been a long time since anyone has.”
“Of course. I’d love to. What would you like to hear?”
“Didn’t get much Bible readin’ back home, so I’d be mighty thankful for anythin’ you read.” She set her drawing, the rest of the paper and her pencils on the coffee table.
Paper rustled as he turned the Bible pages. “I’ll start in the book of James. ‘James, a servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ, to the twelve tribes which are scattered abroad, greeting. My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into diverse temptations, knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience.’”
“What’s that mean? Diverse?”
“It means a great deal of variety. Or in this verse, many temptations.”
She nodded. “I see.”
“‘But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.’”
“I sure do struggle with patience sometimes.”
“Me, too. Actually, I think we all do—otherwise the Lord wouldn’t have bothered putting it in His Word.”
“So what’s it say we’re to do when we’re tempted?”
“Well…” The pages rustled as he turned them some more. He ran his finger down the page. “Here it is. It says here in James 4:7, ‘Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil and he will flee.’”
“Submit? What does that mean?”
“Well, the way I understand it is, when we’re tempted, we’re supposed to turn to God. In doing that, we set ourselves up to receive His transforming, saving power. If we simply try to resist the devil without turning to God, then we’re depending on our own strength and our own willpower. And our strength and willpower are in no way sufficient.”
She frowned and tilted her head.
“Not sufficient means it isn’t enough.”
He must be getting to know the look she gave because he’d explained that word without her even asking.
“We need God’s grace and His mercy to help us resist the devil and flee temptation.”
“I see. I’ll have to ponder on that. Thank you, Michael.”
“You’re welcome.” He covered his mouth when he yawned.
“It’s gettin’ late. You’d better get to bed.”
“Yes. I’d better. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow. Actually, for the next few weeks, too. I want to warn you, you won’t be seeing much of me during that time. We’ll be doing our best to get the wheat in.”
“I understand. Iffen there’s anything I can do to help, let me know, okay?”
“The best thing you can do to help is to take care of things around here. Laundry, mending, meals, stuff like that. If I don’t have to deal with any of that, it makes a huge difference.”
“I can do that. I’m gonna do of heap a sewin’, too. And I’ll make sure you have plenty of vittles and water to take with you.”
“Sounds good.” He rose, then looked down at her. “Just don’t send me any crawdad tails or frog legs, ok
ay?” His eyes had a twinkle when he said it.
She giggled. “I won’t.” She stood. “Michael? Could we pray together before you go to bed?”
“Sure.” He reached for her hands and bowed his head. He started to pray and when he got to the part about thanking God for her wearing a dress, she couldn’t help but laugh.
Michael opened his eyes and looked at her, his expression serious.
“Sorry. I just found it funny.”
“I mean it, Selina. You wearing a dress means a lot to me.” His blue eyes roamed over her face.
She tilted her head. “How come?”
“I don’t know. I just know that it does.” He still held her hands. That meant a lot to her. She was grateful for any touch or any affection he gave her. And as much as she wanted to share a bed with him, she was grateful he wasn’t forcing his husbandly rights on her, instead giving them time to get to know each other before they did. If they ever did, that is.
Suddenly she felt the need to ask, “What did you want in a wife, Michael?”
Selina’s question sent Michael backward. “You really want to know?”
“Wouldn’t have asked iffen I didn’t.”
He dropped her hands and stepped to the fireplace. With one hand on the mantel, he stared into the dwindling fire, deciding what he would say. The truth was always best. “I wanted someone like Rainee. Not Rainee, but someone like her,” he hastened to add lest Selina get the wrong idea that he was in love with his sister-in-law. Yes, he loved Rainee, but like a sister now.
“And…” Selina interjected.
“Someone who’s confident, genteel, educated. A real Southern lady, who could hold her own in any type of situation whether it be here on the ranch, or at a dinner theater, or entertaining prospective business clients. I wanted someone to take care of my home and children. Someone who supports me in what I do. Someone who isn’t afraid of jumping in and helping, even getting dirty when the need arises. Someone with spit and fire. Who challenges me. Who’s willing to fight for what she believes.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized Selina fit that part of his dream wife perfectly. And today, she was dressed every bit a lady. A beautiful lady at that. One who had walked with dignity and grace. The other missing attributes he could learn to deal with. The one he couldn’t was love.
“Go on,” she whispered.
“Someone to come home to. But most of all someone I can love with all my heart and who loves me back the same.”
“I love you, Michael,” she whispered.
Michael stopped breathing and his heart stopped beating.
The air in the room suddenly vanished.
He had no idea how to respond to that because he didn’t love her back.
“You don’t gotta say nothin’, Michael. I know you don’t love me. I just wanted you to know that someone does love you. And that someone is me.” She didn’t look at him.
If she was the woman he’d fallen in love with, those words would have thrilled him. With a little hope and a lot of prayer, perhaps someday they would. “Thank you, Selina, for letting me know.” He kissed her on the cheek. Her skin felt soft against his lips. Before he got carried away again, he stepped back. “And now, I really must get to bed, or in the morning I’ll regret it.” He brushed past her and headed to the bedroom. Without looking back he said, “Good night, Selina,” and stepped through the door and shut it.
He propped his back against the solid wood and closed his eyes. When he opened them, they landed on the empty bed. A bed he longed to fill with love.
Shoving away from the door, he removed his clothes and climbed into bed. “God, I know You don’t make mistakes and that there’s a reason You put Selina and me together. Therefore, I’m asking You, Lord, to fill both of our hearts and home with love. Selina deserves no less.”
Selina sank into the chair. The things he wanted in a wife trailed through her mind.
She pondered each one.
Confusion coiled in her mind. Wasn’t she everything he’d said he wanted? Well, except for the genteel part. Nothing genteel about her. As for the lady part, she could work a little harder on that. She could wear dresses more often to please her husband, and she’d keep reminding herself to walk like Rainee had showed her, with something she’d called poise. Nothing more than walking slower with your head up straight and your shoulders back.
As for the rest of his list, it definitely described her. No. No it didn’t. He said he wanted someone to entertain potential business clients and who could handle themselves at a theater. Could Rainee teach her how to do that? After all, he wanted someone like her. Selina didn’t blame him—Rainee was wonderful.
He said he wanted someone who could educate his children, too. That wasn’t her yet. But it could be. She’d work harder to learn to read and write. With that thought in mind, she pulled out her lessons and got to work. As for the rest of Michael’s list, well, he wanted a fighter. Well, sugah, you got one.
Chapter Eleven
For almost three weeks Selina worked hard at keeping the house clean, making Michael’s favorite foods and sewing shirts and pants for him and new dresses for herself. She’d finished making her first quilt, too.
Every time she saw Michael’s smile and the approval on his face when she wore a dress and left her hair down, it pushed her to work harder at changing. She was even trying to learn to talk better, too, but that part wasn’t going too well. Rainee thought it unnecessary anyway, but she still helped and understood.
No kisses had been shared between Selina and Michael since the last one, but Selina felt it was only a matter of time before he came around again. After all, he’d been dogged tired every night when he came home from the fields.
Today was the last day of harvesting. Michael’s footsteps on their porch didn’t have their normal spring. He walked like a man in his nineties, shuffling as he came in the door, more tired than she’d ever seen him before. “Evenin’, Michael.”
He nodded.
Selina grabbed the lunch bucket and water jug from him and set them on the round table next to the door.
His smile barely curled his lips.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Sure you are,” she said mockingly as she pressed her hand against his forehead. “You’re burnin’ up. Why don’t you clean up and head to bed, and I’ll bring dinner to you there?”
“I’ll be fine.” His voice sounded weak.
She slammed her hands on her hips. “You ain’t fine, Michael. Your skin feels hotter than white flames.” She stepped behind him, placed her hands on his shoulders and gave him a push toward his bedroom.
He didn’t fight her but shuffled his way slowly to his room. Inside, he flopped on the bed and sat there, staring at the wall.
“You need help gettin’ undressed?” When she realized what she had asked him, her face flooded with heat. She hadn’t thought before she spoke. For years she’d helped her pa undress down to his underclothes. But this was different.
Michael slowly raised his head toward her. “I could use some help.”
Selina swallowed. The man really was sick. He never let her help him. And this time he was going to let her undress him. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that now that he’d said yes. But she reckoned it was fitting because, after all, he was her husband.
She stepped in front of him and slipped his suspenders over his shoulders, then undid his buttons and tugged the shirttail out of his trousers. She climbed on the bed behind him and pulled his shirt off.
His broad-shouldered body was a sight to behold. God had really outdone himself on Michael. She wanted to run her hands over his smooth back to feel the hard muscles underneath her fingers. But now was not that time.
She removed his shirtsleeves by running her hands down his arms. Arms that bulged, that were as solid as rocks, only warm. She needed to hurry and get him cooled down. Hopping off the bed, she came around to the front of him.<
br />
A blond lock of hair fell across his forehead, touching his eyebrows and almost his eye.
Without thinking, she reached out and brushed it away. Halfway through, her attention snagged onto Michael’s blue eyes.
He was watching her.
She should move away but she was as stiff and unmovable as a frozen pond.
Her mouth turned dry as hard bread.
Michael watched her every move.
She wondered if he was going to kiss her again.
“You’re so beautiful, Selina,” he whispered.
“So are you,” she whispered back. Then catching her slip-up, she said, “I meant you’re mighty handsome yourself.”
He raised his hand and slid it behind her neck, tugging gently on it until her lips touched his. She melted into them, wanted to melt into him, but his lips were hot under hers. Even though she wanted more of his tender kisses, that would have to wait. Michael had a fever, and she needed to doctor him back to health. There would be time for kissing later. She hoped. Reluctantly, she raised her head.
“What’s wrong?” His eyes looked droopy, tired.
“Nothin’s wrong. It’s just that you’re hotter than the sun in July. You need to rest, Michael. Why don’t you finish undressin’ while I fetch you some vittles?” Her eyes wandered to his bare chest. “I’ll—I’ll be right back.” She fled the room.
Seeing his bare chest, she had a yearning to press her head against it, to hear Michael’s heartbeat in her ear, to be held next to it. To him. “Dear Lord, help me,” she prayed on the way to the kitchen. “Temptation is a mighty powerful thing. And right now, I’m being mighty tempted.”
Michael sat on the edge of the bed, dazed. The gentle feel of her hands as she ministered to him touched him deeply. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until he had no breath left. But he wouldn’t. Only deep, abiding love would induce him to go further. So if and when that happened, he wanted the moment to be special. For both of them.
It took every ounce of energy he had to remove his pants, climb into bed and bury himself under the covers. Selina said he had a fever, but a chill drove clear down into his bones.
The Unlikely Wife Page 15
