by Linda Ford
“Yes, my pa and I had been traveling when he took ill and passed away. I stayed in the wagon until someone stole it.”
Stella’s heart went to the child he had been. But warning bells sounded as she heard him say “traveling.” It sounded like he was the son of a traveler. A wanderer, perhaps. Her insides grew brittle. What was the saying? An apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Had the son of a wanderer grown up to have the same restless urge? Not that it mattered to her. She’d only offered her home for his aunt’s sake.
“Are you a believer?”
“I am.” Bruce’s voice was strong and steady, as if he had no doubts. She envied him that assurance. She constantly battled her secret doubts about whether her hardships indicated that God didn’t love her.
“You attend church regularly?”
Bruce chuckled. “My aunt was a pillar of the local church, so, yes.” His expression shifted to something other than amusement.
Stella wondered if his aunt’s station in the church had changed with the vendetta from the preacher. Hadn’t he said his aunt had been in danger?
“Your aunt assures me you are a kind, honorable man. Do you agree?”
“I try.”
“Do you believe a man has the right to control his wife? Maybe even use physical force on her?”
Stella stared. She’d never heard the preacher ask these kinds of questions before and wondered why he would do so now.
“No sir. I believe in kindness and mutual concern.”
The preacher leaned back, smiling at Stella.
She returned his smile, though she thought it odd for him to be looking at her when his conversation was with Bruce. And why was she even being included in this discussion?
The preacher turned to Bruce. “Why not accept Stella’s offer? It would be beneficial to both of you.”
Stella had informed the Kinsleys of her intention to ask Bruce to help her.
“I can’t.” He sighed, glanced at Stella as if hoping for her to help him.
She nodded. “He’s afraid of gossip.”
The preacher sat back. “You are an honorable young man to consider the possibility.”
“So, you see why I can’t accept the offer, though it is very kind.”
Mrs. Kinsley and the preacher looked at one another.
Stella tried to think what they could be saying to each other in that silent exchange.
The preacher nodded. “I think I have the perfect solution.” He grinned and slapped his hands on his thighs. “You two should get married.”
Married? To a stranger? She wasn’t that desperate to get back to her farm.
3
Married? Bruce’s leg muscles bunched, ready to flee at such a preposterous idea. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Mrs. Norwood to see her reaction. But no doubt, after hearing the pathetic story about his life in Kansas and learning he was an orphan with no family, she would see him as the worst possible man for marriage.
The preacher went on as if unaware or unmindful of Bruce’s reaction. “It would enable Stella to return home and keep her farm. She’s always saying she wants to go back and give her children a home of their own. As well, it would give you and your aunt a home.”
Bruce nodded, too numb to speak. Yes, it would give Aunt Mary a home, but he had promised to take her to her sister.
Mrs. Kinsley reached across the table and patted his clenched fists. “Many marriages based solely on mutual need have been very successful.”
Bruce drew air into his starving lungs. The man who had sent him to the Kinsleys spoke so highly of them. But he was beginning to think the man didn’t know as much about them as he let Bruce think. Why would a good preacher and his wife suggest the woman in their home marry him—a stranger? And even worse—though they didn’t know this fact—a man fleeing an undeserved, but unsavory, reputation.
He made himself look at Mrs. Norwood. She met his gaze with eyes full of hard warning. He didn’t need to ask her opinion. She found this idea as unappealing as he did.
The preacher patted Bruce on the shoulder. “It’s a lot to take in all at once. Your aunt can spend the night in the parlor. Don’t imagine you’ll mind sleeping by your wagon. Pull it around to the back. Think about the idea. Pray about it and give me your decision in the morning.”
“Are you taking my agreement for granted?” Stella’s voice was soft, but Bruce heard the steel in it.
“Not at all, my dear.” Mrs. Kinsley gave Stella a little hug. “I advise the same thing. Think about the advantages. Pray for God’s direction. No one can force you to do this, but you might see the advantages.”
“Advantages?”
Bruce admired her self-control when he sensed a cauldron simmering below the surface.
Her voice could have driven nails. “Marriage is forever. It’s a big price to pay for a hired man.”
“And yet it offers you the stability you so often say you crave.”
She pushed to her feet. “If you excuse me, this is more than I can deal with.”
“Stella, don’t rush away,” Mrs. Kinsley called, but Stella quietly slipped out of the house, pulling the door closed behind her.
“You’ll have to excuse me too.” Bruce hurried to the front room.
Aunt Mary smiled at him. “My leg is set. No need to delay your trip on my account.”
“Mrs. Kinsley assures me you can’t travel until your burns and bones are better.”
“Pshaw. I can if I have to.”
“There is another way.” He pulled a chair close and sat by her side to tell her of the preacher’s suggestion.
His aunt didn’t say anything until he finished then words exploded from her mouth. “That is the most preposterous thing I’ve heard in a coon’s age. Of course, you won’t marry a complete stranger just so you’ll have a place for me to rest. Why I never heard such nonsense in all my life.”
Bruce chuckled. “I thought the same thing.” He let out a huge sigh. “And yet there are advantages.”
“I fail to see any.”
“It could be a permanent home for you unless you’re set on going to your sister’s.”
“She’s agreed to give me a home.”
Did he hear hesitation in her voice? He waited, but she didn’t say more. Didn’t say she welcomed the idea. Didn’t say she didn’t. More to the point, why was he questioning her wishes? He’d promised to take her there where she would have a home.
“Stella—Mrs. Norwood needs help to keep her homestead.”
Aunt Mary studied him. “Are you seriously considering it?”
“Of course not. Just stating the facts.”
“The children are precious.”
“They are.” He could see being a part of their lives. He shook his head. A man didn’t marry a woman simply because her children were sweet. Though it beat some of the reasons a man and woman married. At least, he would be doing it of his own free will.
Wait a minute. Where had that come from? He wasn’t intending to marry her.
“Is she a good woman?” His aunt’s question broke into his tangled thoughts.
“I met her only a few hours ago, so I can’t say. Except—”
Aunt Mary chuckled, the sound ending sharply as her pain evidenced. “You have made a judgment, haven’t you?”
“From what I’ve observed, she is a gentle soul.” But he could not say what lay beneath that first impression.
“Hmm. That’s high praise from you.”
“Why? Am I given to harsh assessments of others?”
Aunt Mary patted his hand. “Only of young women.”
He knew it was true. One learned to be cautious after a bad experience.
“Miss Louella has made you look differently at marriageable females.”
“She wasn’t what she appeared to be.” Mrs. Norwood could be the same…one thing on the surface, another when you scratched a thin veneer.
“I know, and I’m sorry it turned out the way it did.”
She studied him. “Bruce, don’t base your decision on what you think I need. I don’t care where I live. My sister and I have never gotten along. We’re much better friends in our letters than in person. But she’s willing to give me a home.” Her eyelids drooped. He understood it was the laudanum.
“I’ll let you rest. We’ll spend the night here then make plans.”
She nodded, already half asleep.
He tiptoed from the room. He would make it up to his aunt. He was surprised at her confession that she didn’t care whether or not she joined her sister.
Was it possible to provide what she needed without dragging her across the mountains?
He pursed his lips. Marrying a stranger and becoming a permanent part of her life was not the answer.
There had to be another way to provide a place for his aunt to recover.
He returned to his wagon and sat on the tailgate to think. The preacher had suggested prayer. Bruce bowed his head. God, please provide a way for me to care for my aunt.
Some way other than marriage, he quickly added.
A black and white dog ran up to him, a boy of about ten right behind. The dog sniffed around the wheels, his plumy tail waving wildly at all the exciting smells he discovered. The boy stopped six feet away and studied Bruce.
“I’m Jimmy.”
“Howdy. I’m Bruce Reynolds.”
“You visitin’ the Kinsleys?”
“My aunt is injured, and Mrs. Kinsley is tending her.” Maybe this boy knew where Bruce could find lodging. “I need a place to stay for a few weeks while her broken leg mends. You happen to know any place?”
The boy rocked back on his heels. “Why’nt you stay with the Kinsleys?”
“They’re full.”
“Yeah, I guess. There’s the hotel. It’s okay. Not like the Kinsleys though.”
“I can’t afford it.”
Jimmy tipped his head to the side. “See you’re goin’ on a journey. Got everythin’ you need?”
“I think so.”
“You could stay in your wagon. There’s some nice places to camp by the river.” He gestured to the west. “Just a little ways over there.”
Bruce had taken note of the river’s location. It was well marked by a line of trees.
“I always wanted to camp there. Ma has let me a couple of times but says I can’t move down there.” Jimmy hung his head as if that was the worst possible thing his mother could refuse him.
Bruce chuckled. “Maybe she’s not wanting to have you leave home so soon.”
The boy brightened. “Ya think that’s it?”
“Sure do. Besides, you’re a fortunate young man to have a home where you’re wanted.” A home where you’re wanted. The words resonated. Aunt Mary had given him that. He could not disappoint her by not giving her what she needed now.
“Guess so. So, you going to camp? I could show you a good spot.”
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t mind for me, but I don’t think my aunt would be very comfortable. Thanks all the same for the offer. And if you think of a place where we could stay for a few weeks, you let me know.”
“I will.” The boy and his dog trotted down the street.
Bruce leaned over his knees and studied the street below his feet. What was he willing to do to give his aunt a home? Would marrying Stella and making her farm his home provide what his aunt needed?
He jerked up so hard his neck creaked. Why was he even considering it?
Stella couldn’t stay in the house and listen to Mr. and Mrs. Kinsley tout the benefits of marrying a stranger. She looked about, but there was no place to run and only one place she cared to go—back to her homestead.
“You gonna marry him, Ma?” Donny asked.
“What? Donny, were you eavesdropping again?”
“No Ma, but the window is open, and I could hear you.”
Stella glanced at Blossom, sitting against the house, right below the window. Both of them would have heard the discussion. “I wouldn’t marry a stranger. Why, that would be plumb foolish.”
“I likes him,” Blossom said. “Why you don’t?”
Stella closed her eyes against her little daughter’s accusatory words. “I like him fine, but I don’t know him.” She turned her attention back to Donny, who faced her, his eyes narrowed.
“If you married him, we could go home. I want to go home.”
She sat on the ground and pulled both children to her. “I do too, but this isn’t the way.”
“’Cause you don’t love him?” Donny asked.
“Because I don’t know him. He could be a bad man. Not someone we can trust.”
“He’s good.” How could Blossom be so certain? She sees with her heart. The words tiptoed into her mind.
But she’s only got three years of experience. How can she possibly know how easy it is for some men to promise things and even easier for them to forget their promise?
A wagon rattled into the backyard. Bruce jumped to the ground and began to unhitch the horses.
Blossom and Donny rushed from her arms and hurried to him. Donny caught his sister’s hand. “Stay back while he takes care of his horses.”
Stella remained where she was, her thoughts a knot of wishes and disappointments. How badly did she want to get back home?
Not badly enough to marry a stranger.
She watched Bruce as he led his horses into the corral, talking and laughing with the children, who climbed the fence to watch him.
They missed their papa. She missed Frank too. Missed knowing she would wake in the morning and look around her home. The first home she’d ever believed to be hers permanently. She wanted Blossom and Donny to know the feeling that had gladdened her heart at the knowledge that she would never have to move.
She must get back there, for her sake as well as the children’s. Before she lost it all.
Mrs. Kinsley stepped from the house, carrying a pot of broth.
Stella jumped up. “I’ll help you.”
“I don’t want you going into the sick rooms. If this is contagious…. Miss Rivers isn’t the only one I’d like to see safely away from this risk.” Mrs. Kinsley’s gaze went to the children.
Stella’s throat tightened so she couldn’t swallow. “I need to take them back to the farm.”
“Think about our suggestion.” Mrs. Kinsley went into the addition. In a few moments Stella could hear her speaking to those who were ill.
Stella’s attention returned to her children. Bruce now leaned his back against the fence, Blossom and Donny on each side of him, perched on the top rail. They talked.
If she married him…
Why was she even thinking it?
She called the children. “Bedtime.”
They said something to Bruce and jumped down. They paused halfway across the yard to wave at him then went into the house with Stella. She took them upstairs and prepared them for bed.
Mrs. Zimmerman and her girls had not returned. Perhaps they’d found Mr. Zimmerman and would be able to move into their home.
Home. Oh, how she longed to give her children that stability.
“Let’s say our prayers.” She knelt at the bedside, a child on either side.
Blossom went first. “Dear God, thank You much for today. I like that man. He take us home. Amen.”
Donny began praying before Stella could tell Blossom that wasn’t possible.
“Dear God,” Donny said. “I been asking You to let us go home. I miss the farm. Thank You for sending Mr. Reynolds so we can go home. Help Mama do it. Amen.”
He scrambled into bed and gave her a demanding look while she tucked Blossom in beside him.
“Donny, Blossom, I can’t marry a man simply so we can all go home.”
“Why not? Maybe God sent him here so you could. You ever think of that?”
“Yeah,” Blossom echoed. “You ever think that?”
“No, I haven’t.” She bent to kiss them goodnight. “Now you go to sleep.” She might have considered staying in the room with them, but she feared they would not sleep but rather continue to watch her with accusation in their eyes. “I’m going downstairs. I’ll be close if you need me.”
“We could sleep in your room. His aunt could have one room, and he could have the other,” Donny said before Stella could make her escape.
She paused at the top of the stairs. Donny was too innocent to understand what marriage meant.
The preacher sat at the kitchen table, studying his Bible. Thankfully, he did not say anything further about his suggestion. She cast a glance at him. Was he praying she would see the value of marrying Bruce?
Outside, she breathed in the still-warm evening air, inhaling the scent of the trees along the river. An ache the size of the mountains to the west filled her, pushing aside everything else. She longed to go home.
Bruce stepped from the shadow of the wagon and crossed the yard. “You look weary,” he said.
She swallowed back the emotion clogging her throat. “I’m homesick.” Why must her voice shake, revealing the depth of her longing?
“Donny is too.”
“I know.” It was one more source of pain.
“My aunt says she isn’t set on going to her sister in Washington Territory. In fact, she says they have never gotten along.”
Stella shifted so she could see Bruce out of the corner of her eyes. “Why are you telling me this?”
He stared into the distance. “There are certain advantages to a marriage.”
Her insides crackled with uncertainty. She must move. She walked toward the corrals.
He followed. “We could both benefit from an arrangement between us.”
They reached the fence, and she leaned against the rails, welcoming the steadiness of the solid wood. “You’re suggesting we get married?” Somehow, she managed to keep her words firm.
“It would give my aunt the permanent home I’ve promised her and give your children the same.”
Stella considered what Donny had said. If Bruce would agree to a marriage in name only… “What would you expect in this agreement?”
