by Vivi Holt
Finally Angus’ voice cut through the buzzing in her head. “… my wife’s getting close to her time, so she couldn’t be here today, but I know she’s dying to meet you.”
“Of course. I can’t wait to meet her. I hope she’s well.”
“Oh, well enough, though she says she feels like an elephant. She doesn’t look it to me, though.” He grinned. “See you soon.” He left with a wave.
Holly crossed her arms, forcing herself to smile until he was gone.
“Ready to leave?” Kurt asked.
“Very.” She frowned.
His brow furrowed. “Is everything all right?”
Her nostrils flared. “Just fine and dandy, thank you,” she replied sarcastically.
He looked confused, but offered an arm to help her into the wagon. “Well then, let’s get going, shall we?”
She nodded and climbed aboard, even as her stomach roiled. How dare those women speak to her that way? They knew nothing whatsoever about her. They’d judged her before they even met her, likely based on some snippet of gossip that made the rounds. She didn’t know how it could’ve happened so quickly, since this was the first time she and the children had visited town since their arrival a week earlier. Apparently the talebearers in Wichita were even more efficient than New Yorkers!
She could feel Kurt’s questioning eyes on her. She’d been short with him and he no doubt wondered why, but was afraid to broach the subject. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about it.
She sighed and her shoulders drooped. It would be harder than she’d realized to find her way here. She’d dealt with the rejection of society women before, but hadn’t been expecting it from the country folk of a frontier town. Tears stung her eyes, and she sat in silence listening to the buzz of conversation amongst the children. It seemed they’d enjoyed their trip to town, and a couple of them had even made friends at the church.
Sam and Sal clopped steadily on, heads high and tails swishing. She studied the open plains, saw a pocket gopher disappear with a flick of its small tail into a hole in the ground. A shadow sailed over the landscape and a dozen more gophers darted underground. She shaded her eyes with a hand to peer upward as a hawk soared overhead, its wings outstretched on an updraft, one eye angled downward to search for lunch.
She’d known it would be hard to start afresh, but she hadn’t anticipated this hollow ache in her heart that never left, as if there was no place in the world for her to belong. The ranch was Kurt’s place. Even though they were married, she still felt like she and the children were visitors, guests. At any moment Kurt could change his mind and rescind the invitation.
She stole a glance at him. He sucked on a blade of grass and squinted ahead, the reins loose in his hands, his hat tipped low over his face. Her husband was a stranger to her.
They passed a thickly wooded copse where birch trees mingled with orange, red and brown-leaved oaks and maples. The air was cooler there, the birdcalls echoing in the darkened air. Kurt turned to face her. “How does this look? For the picnic.”
Holly nodded, one quick bob of the head. “This is fine.”
He followed a side trail into the woods until they heard the tinkle of cool water over rocks. “There’s a creek here – it’s a nice place to sit,” he said almost to himself. He stopped the wagon, and the children wasted no time in disembarking to explore the creek banks, searching for flat stones to skip across its glassy surface.
After Kurt helped her down, Holly unfolded a picnic rug and spread it on the ground close to the bank where she could keep an eye on the children. She sat and unpacked the picnic basket Kurt had carried from the wagon bed. There was a distance between them. She felt it crackle with the tension of things unspoken. He sat next to her, opened his mouth as if to speak, then shut it again and ran a hand over his beard.
She took a long breath and saw Eleanor was venturing too far into the water. “Eleanor Bristol! Don’t you ruin your Sunday dress!”
Eleanor pouted and stepped back out of the stream to stand beside the row of small shoes with socks tucked neatly inside. “Yes, Ma.”
Edward shrieked and leaped out of the water and onto the shore. “What is it?” asked Holly, her eyes narrowed.
Kurt hurried to Edward’s side, then laughed as he saw what was in the boy’s hands. “It’s nothing but a crayfish. You should see if you can catch more for supper – they’re tasty.”
Edward gazed up at Kurt with wide eyes and grinned. “Yes, sir!” He rushed back into the creek, looked around, then pounced with both hands. He pulled another wriggling, clawed creature out of the water and shouted in delight. “I got another one!”
“You sure did – good work!” Kurt called.
As Edward carried his prize over to show Holly, the girls jumped around him in fear and glee. “Eddie, will you share it with me?” asked Sarah excitedly.
He shook his head. “Catch your own.”
She pouted. “I will, then.” She spun on her heel and strode into the creek, water splashing up to her thighs and soaking her skirts.
Holly closed her eyes tight and groaned. There would be no stopping them now.
Edward deposited a crayfish on the rug beside the first one and headed back for more. Holly sighed, unwrapped a pack of sandwiches and used the string to tie the creatures’ claws together, then stuck them in the empty picnic basket. She returned her attention to the children, who were all now splashing in the creek, soaked to the bone, squealing in delight as they chased small fish and hunted crayfish.
Kurt went to join them, laughing over near-misses and cheering successful catches, and Holly smiled despite herself. He looked like one of them, clambering in the creek as though a child himself, his hat, boots and socks left safely on the bank.
Sarah emerged after a minute, grinning from ear to ear, a writhing crayfish in each hand. She set them down in front of her mother with a flourish. “I caught two, Ma!”
Holly chuckled and hurried to unwrap another pack of sandwiches. “Well done, my dear. You’re quite the fisherwoman.”
Sarah glowed beneath her praise and returned to the water.
Holly scanned the area for Tripp. Her eldest had taken to separating himself from the group, and today was no exception. She spotted him, seated alone on the ground behind her, his face drawn, faintly scowling. He watched the revelry before him with a flash of anger in his eyes.
Her heart fell. She ached for him and the pain he was feeling. As the oldest, he couldn’t shake the memory of their family, whole and happy as it had been. Her teeth clenched and she swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. She’d have to talk to him, but not now. He needed time to work things out in his own mind. He was much like her that way.
She turned back to the creek to discover they were playing a new game. Heather and Edward were pursuing Kurt in a wide circle, squealing and shouting. Sarah pounced in his path and splashed him. He shouted and rubbed his eyes to clear them, then grabbed Sarah, threw her in the air and watched her land with a splash in the creek. The rest of the children watched in silence.
Holly’s breath caught as Sarah struggled to find her footing and emerged from the water coughing and spluttering. She scrubbed her eyes with the back of her soaking wet sleeves … then burst out laughing. Heather, Edward and Eleanor all leaped at Kurt with cries of laughter. He dunked each one, making them all hoot and holler in delight – and come back for more.
Holly discovered she’d been holding her breath since Sarah’s head disappeared under the surface. But seeing their joy, she released it in a single burst and smiled widely. When she laughed out loud, Kurt spun to face her, his eyes sparkling, and motioned her over. She frowned, but complied. As he made his way toward her, her eyes narrowed – what was he up to?
She soon found out. He scooped her up with a grin, one hand around her back and the other beneath her skirts. She held onto him, screaming “Kurt, put me down!” as he carried her back toward the creek. “Don’t you dare! Kurt Sawyer, I
demand you put me down this instant!” Surely he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.
He feigned dropping her into the frigid water and she shrieked, making him throw his head back in laughter. “You should see the look on your face,” he chortled.
She sighed and managed a wan smile. “I thought for a moment there you’d lost your senses and were about to throw me into the stream.”
A mischievous glint in his eyes made her catch her breath. “Who says I wasn’t?” he teased.
Suddenly she was very aware of his arms around her and the feel of his sturdy chest against her through his sodden shirt. Her heart skipped and her gaze landed on his lips, full, parted and half-smiling. She licked her own lips and took a quick breath. When her eyes found his again, her pulse quickened.
“Don’t fret, dear. I wouldn’t –” Before he could finish what he’d set out to say, he was shoved in the back. He stumbled forward, tripped and fell, landing them both with a great splash in the middle of the creek.
As the cold water soaked through her clothing, Holly gasped for air, clawing for the surface with both hands. Finally she set her feet on the bottom and stood, coughing and hacking up creek water from her lungs. Thankfully, the deepest part of the creek was barely five feet. Kurt slapped her on the back, then wiped the water from his own eyes. He laughed, coughed, then laughed again.
Her nostrils flaring, she marched out of the creek and up the bank, her fists clenched. She glared at the four children, who still stood in the creek looking contrite.
“Sorry, Ma,” said Eleanor, breaking the silence. She was always the first to speak.
“I just … I can’t imagine what you were thinking! I’m soaked …” Holly could barely form a sentence between her chattering teeth and racing mind.
“Sorry, Ma,” added the other three children.
“Sorry, Holly,” added Kurt. He’d also climbed out and stood close by, his hands on his hips. “Not that I planned it , but, well …”
She shook her head at him, then flounced back to the picnic rug. “Well, lunch is ready. Not that any of you deserve it.”
Deserving or not, they shouted with glee and raced over to the blanket to eat.
“Blessing first,” Kurt stated firmly, just as they were each about to thrust a sandwich into their mouths. And as Holly watched him lead her children in a prayer of thanks, the rage she’d felt dissipated like the creek water running from her clothing. She let herself smile just a little at the thought of how amusing it must have seemed to the children when she’d landed in that creek. And the memory of the looks on their faces when she emerged from the water sparked a giggle that she hid behind her hand.
7
Holly kilted up her skirts, rolled up her sleeves and squatted beside the washtub, then took a shirt from the dirty laundry in the basket next to her and soaked it in the warm water. She picked up the chunk of soap from the pannikin sitting in the grass and began scrubbing.
The rhythmic work of laundry day always put her in a good mood. She hadn’t had to do laundry when she’d lived with Charles, nor with her sister. But after a childhood of soiled clothing and linens stiff with age, she enjoyed the sweet feel of the soap on her hands and the smell of sunshine in her clothes. Cleanliness was something she took great pleasure in after the darkness of her past. She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, pushing a strand of hair from her eyes with a sigh.
Tripp sat by the barn, playing with something in the dust at his feet. He’d been even more sullen recently, especially since the picnic at the creek after church the week before. She hadn’t had an opening to speak with him about what was going through that bright, sensitive mind of his.
He stood, kicked the ground with a bare foot, and wandered off toward the pasture beyond. She called out to him. “Tripp!”
He swiveled slowly to face her, eyelids at half mast.
“Can you come here, please?”
He paused, glanced up at the sky as if hoping for guidance on whether or not to mind his mother, then meandered over, his brow furrowed. He stopped beside her, his arms crossed over his thin chest.
She stood and wiped her wet hands on her apron. “Tripp dear, I must know what’s wrong. You’ve been moping around the place like a bear just come out of hibernation and there’s no call for it.”
His scowl didn’t move. “I don’t want to be here. And you shouldn’t either, Ma. He’s not your husband. Pa was. And this is our family.” His lips pursed, he glared at the grass by her feet.
She put a hand under his chin and tipped it up until his eyes met hers. “Tripp Bristol, Pa will always be your father. But he’s gone. I’m not trying to replace him – that can’t ever happen. But we need a place to live, food in our stomachs, someone to care for us. If it were just you and I, I could find a job to support us. But there are six of us! I couldn’t make ends meet no matter how I tried and then I’d lose all of you.”
He huffed, tightening his grip on himself.
“Don’t huff at me, young man. I’m still your mother and what I say is final. I want you to buck up and smile. And you treat Kurt with the respect he deserves. He’s my husband now and this is his home.”
Tripp’s eyes narrowed. “I won’t …”
“You will. I’m doing the best I can, son, and I’ll make mistakes along the way. But we’re in this together and I need you to help me. Can you please do that?” She caressed his cheek with one still-damp hand.
He brushed her hand away. “I’m the man in our family. I could’ve taken care of us!”
She tipped her head to one side, her heart aching for her son and his pain. “Oh darling, I know you could. But that’s not what I want for you, not if I can help it. I want you to have the opportunity for a life of your own someday, not have you saddled with a mother and siblings to care for. One day you’ll thank me …”
“Thank you?” he snarled “No, I won’t. I hate it here!” He spun away and ran across the yard, disappearing behind the barn.
Holly’s heart lurched. He’d never spoken to her that way before, and it cut her to the quick. She took a long, slow breath, waiting for her pulse to slow back to normal. Well, she’d have to speak to him again later, perhaps when he’d calmed down. But in the meantime, she wasn’t sure what to do.
He’d seemed fine with the plan to move to Kansas when they were still in New York – though now she thought about it, she hadn’t ever asked him and she couldn’t remember him openly supporting the idea. In fact, she did recall a couple of incidents involving yelling and slammed bedroom doors when they were packing. Perhaps that had been his way of showing his displeasure at the decision.
Her eyes drifted shut and she chewed the inside of one cheek. Well, there was nothing to be done about it now – surely he could understand that. She was married and that was the end of the matter. She could hardly abandon her new husband and flee back to New York.
And she didn’t want to leave, not now that she’d finally found a little peace. At long last she didn’t feel as if she was intruding on anyone else’s life. She could see a pinprick of hope at the idea of spending her life with this man. As much as he was a stranger to her, everything he’d done and said so far seemed to make things more certain in her mind – he was a good man, a kind man, and hard-working too. And there was nothing to go back to in New York.
Holly lowered herself onto her haunches again to continue the laundry, frowning at the tumble of dark thoughts in her troubled mind.
Kurt lifted the tin cup to his lips and slurped the water down. The day had been a hot one, and he’d spent most of it plowing another field for oats. Plowing was hard work. He’d borrowed the plow from Will Drake again, but while it made the work easier, there were still stumps to be pulled up and rocks to carry away. Not to mention slashing weeds, some as high as his shoulder, and the constant threat of snakes.
He’d thought he’d have plenty for winter, but he hadn’t reckoned with how five growing kids could eat. He’d need more crops, more l
ivestock, more of everything. His head hurt thinking it all through.
He set the empty cup on the table in front of him and glanced around the house. Where was everyone? He’d spied a few of the children playing in the field, but where the rest of them were was beyond him. And he hadn’t seen his bride since lunch. Just thinking of her made his cheeks burn and his stomach churn. He bit his lower lip. He hoped she was adjusting to her new life. It was hard to say – her face didn’t betray her feelings. Holly was a book he’d have to learn how to read, though he looked forward to doing it.
He was concerned about the boy, Tripp, who glared daggers at him every chance he got and refused to join in the fun and games he had with the other children. The others were no problem at all. He smiled at the memory of Holly in her sodden dress stomping up the creek bank and scolding them. He really shouldn’t have carried her into the stream – it was too tempting for the children, and while they thought it was a hoot, he didn’t think it earned him any favor with her.
He stood with a groan and stretched his arms over his head just as Holly rushed in the back door, a pile of dry clothing slung over one arm. “Oh, there you are,” she said, her cheeks reddening.
“Yes, I am.”
“Have you had a nice day, then?” She studied his face with what seemed like curiosity.
He swallowed. “Thank you, I did. And you?”
She nodded. “I was just about to prepare supper. Are you hungry?”
“Famished,” he replied. He wondered what she’d spent her day on – he wanted to know everything about her – but he didn’t dare ask. That was something he’d learned from Pa at a young age: a man never asked his wife what she did with her day. His father had shaken his head ruefully and rubbed his bearded chin when he said it. Instead, he took a step toward her and reached out a hand.
She startled and moved out of his reach. “I’ll just put these things away.”
As she left for the bedroom, he frowned. Was she so afraid of him? Or perhaps she liked him even less than he’d realized. Was she having second thoughts about the arrangement?