by Vivi Holt
Yet now here he was, staring up at the black sky. She frowned – was he upset about something? Did he want to be alone? She understood that feeling, since she never got the chance herself.
She sighed, took the dishcloth off her shoulder and wandered back to the kitchen table. The children were all in bed, the older ones whispering to each other, Eleanor and Edward sound asleep. She was grateful the little ones had learned to sleep through their siblings’ constant noise. Now what? The dishes had been wiped and put away. The fire glowed faintly in the hearth, already banked.
She blew out the candle she’d lit on the mantle, turned and marched outside. If he was so unhappy he needed to leave the house just to get away from her, she wanted to hear it from his lips. She was sick of fretting, of being scared they’d ruined his life, of worrying he’d send them all packing if she did something wrong or if one of the children got into mischief. It was time she asked him how he really felt. If he wanted them to leave, better she should know now.
But when she reached him, her resolve melted away. Badger had padded along silently beside her, and she leaned down to pat his head. Her hands were shaking as she pushed her hair out of her face and took a deep breath.
Kurt heard a twig snap beneath her boot and turned. “Oh, it’s you.”
She rolled her eyes in the darkness. He sure knew just what to say to melt a woman’s heart. “Yes, it’s just me.”
“No … I mean I’m glad it’s you.” He patted the log beside him. “Come sit with me, won’t you?”
She nodded and sat on the log, positioning herself a foot away from him and smoothing out her skirts. “What are you doing out here?”
“Just watching the stars. There’s nothing like a starry night, don’t you think? In Mount Vernon, there were too many lights at night to see them clearly. I imagine New York was even worse …”
She frowned. Perhaps all the motives she’d ascribed to him were just in her mind – it was possible he wasn’t trying to avoid her. But she still felt as though she didn’t know him, not deep down. The person he truly was, seemed always hidden from her, just out of sight. “It’s just that …” She trailed off in the stillness of the evening.
He scratched his beard. “Just what?”
She could see his eyes twinkling in the darkness, and decided to risk it. “I thought you were trying to get away from me. And I don’t want to be the kind of wife who drives her husband from his own home. I just … why are you laughing?!”
He scooted closer to her on the log until their legs touched. “I’m not yearning to get away from you – quite the opposite.”
She frowned. “Truly?”
“I am your husband, after all.”
She felt her cheeks flush in the cool night. “Yes, but you don’t seem to really like us. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re kind to us and good, but you’re so quiet and you keep to yourself. I guess I wondered if you regretted everything and wished we weren’t here …” As she said the words, she wished she could take them back. They sounded so much harsher than she’d intended.
His hand found hers where they were clenched in her lap and enclosed them. “I’m so glad you and the kids are here. You’ve brought life into my world and stirred things up.” He chuckled. “I needed that – it was too quiet around here before. I don’t want to go back to that.”
She smiled, trembling. Her fingers tingled at his touch and she let her hands relax, threading her fingers through his. “I didn’t know …”
“Now you do. What would I have done these last days if you weren’t here? No one would’ve even known I was sick, let alone cared for me.”
She sighed. “Yes, I suppose.”
He seemed to sense her disappointment in his words. “But that’s not the only reason. When you arrived, I got an instant family – a big, happy family full of love. Who wouldn’t want that? And best of all, I got you.”
Her eyes widened and she held her breath.
“I could never have imagined I’d meet someone so loving, kind, smart and beautiful as you, my darling Holly. You’re everything I didn’t know I wanted. If only you loved me the way I love you, I think we could be happy together …” His voice thickened with emotion until he couldn’t speak.
Neither could Holly for a moment. Finally she managed to exhale, then swallowed the lump in her throat. “You love me? I … thought you’d never forgive me for saddling you with all these kids!”
He leaned closer, taking her breath away as he caressed the side of her jaw. “They’re amazing – just like their mother. And one day, I hope we might have one of our own …” His lips hovered just above hers, making her pulse race. When they met, she closed her eyes and wove her fingers through his hair, the world spinning around her in a daze of joy, pleasure and anticipation.
She finally pulled away for breath, watching his face, the curve of his cheek and the strong line of his nose, the depth of his eyes as, full of love, they studied her every movement.
“Do you think you could learn to love me, some day?” he asked.
She bit her lip and smiled. “I love you already, though I didn’t know it until this moment.”
He took a quick breath, then reached for her again, his mouth devouring hers in a passionate kiss, full of the longing grown over weeks of hopelessness and fearful regrets. Now they were gone as hope and love collided in a soulful embrace.
First Presbyterian was packed tight with congregants as Holly adjusted her hat. A hatpin was scratching her scalp, and she reached up to move it to a more suitable location in the depths of her chignon.
Today, dressed in a modest mint-green gown, she’d actually looked forward to coming to the new brick building. Angus and Beatrice weren’t in attendance – baby Ulysses Roscoe Sawyer had arrived the day before, so they were at home. Still, she felt the bond even though they were absent. They were on her side, and she didn’t care what anyone else thought. She had friends, and a husband who loved her, and five wonderful children who that very morning managed to make it to church without a single argument. What more could she want?
She smiled as she raised her hymnal. The final hymn rang through the small space, echoing off the walls and ceiling with the swell of melody. She glanced at Kurt, and he smiled at her and patted her hand where it rested on his strong arm. She sighed as the last notes faded away. The minister thanked them all, dismissed them to leave and she watched the children rush outside to play. “Should we stop by to see Angus and Beatrice and the baby?”
Kurt nodded. “That would be nice. I’m looking forward to seeing him.”
She chuckled. “I’m sure Beatrice is just relieved to have it done with.”
“Well, I’ll be right outside – as soon as you’re done, we’ll head over there.” He hurried out the door, his hat in his hands.
Holly frowned – he’d done it again. He’d left her all alone in the church with folks she didn’t know. She didn’t wish to be left by herself there, and he knew it.
“Excuse me?”
She turned to see a petite, mousy woman with light brown hair staring at her through round spectacles perched on a thin, straight nose. “Yes?”
“Hello, I’m Alice Brown. Are you Kurt Sawyer’s new wife?”
She braced herself. “Yes, I am – I’m Holly. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Alice.”
Alice grinned. “Yours too. I’ve been wanting to meet you – I heard you were beautiful, and boy, you sure are. How do you get your hair to sit that way? Mine’s always frizzy like this, rain or shine – I can’t seem to do a thing with it.”
Holly smiled. “I think your hair is lovely, but I’m sure we could fix it the same way. I’d be happy to help you sometime if you like.”
Alice beamed. “Oh yes, please – that would be marvelous! I’ve just moved here and I don’t know a soul, not really. My husband Handley bought a mercantile store here …”
“Oh, of course – I met Handley the other day when we came to town. He sold us the most
darling boots and some really beautiful fabric I’m sewing our winter clothes from.”
Alice looped one arm through Holly’s and led her toward the door. “I just know we’ll be good friends. I have a sense about these things.”
Holly nodded with a grin. “I think so too.”
“And these are your children?” asked Alice. All five were running circles around Kurt and the wagon, whooping and hollering.
Holly cringed. “Uh, yes, that’s them.”
“They’re delightful! Handley and I have been trying for children for years, but God hasn’t chosen to bless us that way, or not yet. Though we’re so blessed in other ways that I just can’t begin to count them.” She squeezed Holly’s arm, happily watching the children play. “So we’ve come to terms with it. I’ve learned life can be awfully miserable if you count the blessings you don’t have, rather than the ones you do. Wouldn’t you agree?” Her hazel eyes glimmered behind her glasses.
Holly patted her hand and tipped her head to one side. “Yes, indeed. You’re very wise, though I don’t know how you got to be so at such a young age.”
Alice smiled wide and laughed. “Oh, you flatterer. You know, all of you should come to the house for lunch today. I made a roast yesterday for the Sabbath meal, and it’s big enough for all of us.”
Holly pursed her lips. “Oh, I don’t know. We have to visit Kurt’s brother and the new baby …”
“You can do both – I insist. I have to get to know you better, since you live out of town and I don’t know when I’ll next get the chance to visit with you. I haven’t been to the ranch, but Handley tells me all about his customers and where they’re from and what they’re like, so I feel like I know them all myself sometimes …”
As Alice kept talking, Holly led her toward Kurt to ask if they could dine at the Browns’. When he said they could, she let herself take a moment to look around the space in front of the church. Her children played with some of the other kids from town. Handley joined Alice, who told him to expect guests, an open smile on her face.
Holly felt the warmth of her husband’s presence – his solid dependability, his strength of character, his goodness and his love for her. And peace like a river flooded her soul.
THE END
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OF PEAKS AND PRAIRIES
Read on for an excerpt from the first book in the Paradise Valley series, Of Peaks and Prairies. Or, buy now.
REVIEW
If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review where you bought it. Reviews help other readers discover my books, which in turn enables me to write another. Thank you! - Vivi Holt
Excerpt from Of Peaks and Prairies
Chapter One
Genevieve Waters-Ewing walked from the church with her hand resting lightly on Quincey Ewing’s raised arm. He’d shaved for the first time in months, and she glanced with distaste at a scratch on his cheek where the blade had nicked his weathered skin. Her whole body trembled and she fought hard to push down the sobs that threatened to escape her aching throat at any moment. He turned to face her with a grin, his ten-gallon hat perched unevenly on his square head.
The minister who’d married them was so old and frail and his hearing so bad, each time she shook her head and shouted “no” during their vows, he simply nodded with a toothless grin and continued on with the ceremony. When she tried to run, Quincey held her close and pinched her arm. In the end she stood her ground, confident that the law would never uphold such a marriage – until, that is, her new husband forged her signature on the marriage certificate. Now she wasn’t so sure.
She glared at him as her stepfather came up alongside her. “Congratulations, Genny – yer a married woman now! Isn’t that what ya always wanted?” He chuckled, and she caught him winking behind her back at his childhood friend – the man who’d just been pronounced her husband.
“Well, at least it’ll get ya out from under my feet,” he continued. “I can’t be payin’ for yer upkeep forever. Your Ma done died on me, leavin’ me with a rug-rat I never wanted. Now it’s time for ya to find yer own place in life. Can’t say as I’ll miss ya much, ‘part from the cookin’ ‘n sech of course, but I’ll find a missus to do that soon enough with ya out of the house. ‘Course, yer not goin’ far – just across the way. I’m sure ya could find it in yer heart to help me out a time or two, after all I’ve done fer ya.”
They’d stepped out into the bright Texas morning, and Genevieve squinted against the sunlight that streamed down through a faint fuzz of thin clouds above. She cast her gaze around – they were on the outskirts of Fort Worth, Texas, and she could see the plains stretched out before them. The town pushed toward the openness, threatening to civilize its bluffs, rises and hollows. Chaparral tufts littered the landscape, sheltering hare and various rodents and giving the plains an unkempt look.
Genevieve smoothed the skirts of her burgundy-plaid dress. It was the nicest dress she owned, but even so it was well worn and pulled tightly across her chest and hips where she’d grown in recent years. A long line of small buttons ran up the front of the bodice. The sleeves no longer reached her wrists even when she tugged at them, and the stays pinched her tiny waist. She sighed. “If Ma knew what you had planned for me, Fred, she’d roll over in her grave.” She caught a sob and pushed it back down with a grimace.
He laughed again, this time with a slap on his thigh. When the sound faded, he leveled his face close to hers. She could smell stale tobacco and tequila as his bloodshot eyes trained on hers and held her gaze. “Ya watch yer manners there, Missy. Ya got a husband now, and he may not put up with yer sass the way I done.”
She felt a squeeze on her arm and turned to face her new husband with a gasp. “What was that for?”
“Ya speak to my friend here with some respect. He’s yer elder and I won’t have none of yer lip, ya hear? Yer my wife now and you’ll heed what I say, got it?” Quincey took off his hat to wipe the sweat from his brow. “Dagnabit, it’s hot today. What say we grab us a drink to celebrate this fine occasion?” he asked Fred, who nodded that he heartily concurred with the plan.
Genevieve rubbed her arm where his thin fingers had pinched, and furrowed her brow. She’d never imagined that her life could have taken a turn for the worse after everything that had already happened to her. When her father died in a mining accident, Ma married the next man who asked her, out of fear that they’d end up in the poorhouse or dead from hunger or cold in the street. Unfortunately, that man had been Fred Bilton, and a more cold-hearted man would have been hard to find. Or so she thought, until she met his friend and their neighbor, Quincey Ewing.
The two men eyed Genevieve with a frown. “What?” she asked, her hands on her hips.
“Just wonderin’ what on Earth to do with ya while yer Uncle Fred and me head on down to the saloon for a bit.” Quincey placed his hat back on his head and grabbed her wrist, dragging her along behind him.
“Stop it, you’re hurting me,” she cried, stumbling after him.
“Keep up, then, and it’ll hurt less.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“Ya can sit outside the saloon where I can keep my eye on ya. I got a feelin’ yer in a feisty mood.” He stopped and pulled her close to his chest, both hands wrapped tightly around her tiny wrists. “And just so ya know – I don’t take kindly to feisty. Ya give me trouble, I give ya trouble, you got me?” He narrowed his eyes at the sight of her pale face, and the wiry gray hairs that curled up from the tops of his eyebrows lifted and fell as he regarded her. “What’s wrong with ya, girl? Did ya hear what I said?”
Genevieve nodded, and he released one of her wrists, pulling her behind him down the busy street once again. Tears threatened, but she held them in. She didn’t want him to see her cry, to know that he’d been able to hurt her. She couldn’t give him the satisfaction. Fred plodded a
long behind the two of them, huffing and puffing in his attempt to keep up with Quincey’s clipped pace.
They drew to a halt in front of a rusted sign that swung from a thin paling nailed in front of a two-way door. The sign read Tandy’s, and Fred licked his lips. “Well, you finally got yer way there, Quincey – I gave you my girl to marry. I figure this means the drinks are on you today, right?”
Quincey nodded and scowled. With one last glance at Genevieve, he pointed to a nearby bench and watched as she made her way over to sit. “Ya‘n’I will be doin’ our own celebratin’ later tonight,” he said with a glint in his dark eyes.
Genevieve shivered and felt the bile rise in her throat at the thought of what lay in store for her later that evening. Quincey snickered and pushed open the saloon doors, and the two men hurried inside, anxious to begin drinking.
As soon as they disappeared, Genevieve’s heart raced until it felt as though it would burst from her chest. She pulled and tugged at her corset, but it was no use. Standing quickly to her feet, she drew in deep gasps of air as circles and pricks of light danced and swayed before her eyes.
“Are you all right there, Miss?” asked a cowboy as he gently cupped her arm. His eyes were kindly above a bushy beard.
“Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” she replied, steadying herself in his grasp.
“Why don’t you sit right here? There you go.” He helped her back onto the bench, and she closed her eyes, concentrating on slowing her breathing. The next time she opened them, it was to see the cowboy dip his brown Stetson at her with a smile and meander off down the street.
