Wyoming Brides

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Wyoming Brides Page 15

by Debbie Macomber


  “I’ve hardly done anything,” Joy said, discounting Letty’s appreciation. “It’s been great getting better acquainted. Cricket is a marvelous little girl, and now that I know you, I understand why. You’re a good mother, Letty, but even more important, you’re a wonderful person.”

  “Thank you.” Letty smiled softly, touched by Joy’s tribute. She’d worked hard to be the right kind of mother, but there were plenty of times when she had her doubts, as any single parent did. Only she wasn’t single anymore….

  “Speaking of Cricket, where is she?”

  “Out visiting her pony,” Letty said, and grinned. Cricket thought that marrying Chase had been a brilliant idea. According to her, there wasn’t anyone in the whole world who’d make a better daddy. Chase had certainly lived up to her daughter’s expectations. He was patient and gentle and kind to a fault. The problem, if it could be termed that, was the way Chase treated her, which was no different from the way he treated Cricket. But Letty yearned to be a wife. A real wife.

  “What’s that?” Joy asked, pointing at a huge box that sat on the floor next to the sofa.

  “Lonny brought it over last night. It’s some things that belonged to our mother. He thought I might want to sort through them. When Mom died, he packed up her belongings and stuck them in the back bedroom. They’ve been there ever since.”

  Joy’s eyes fluttered downward at the mention of Lonny’s name. Letty picked up on that immediately. “Are you two still not getting along?” she asked, taking a chance, since neither seemed willing to discuss the other.

  “Not exactly. Didn’t you ask me to write down the recipe for that meatless lasagna? Well, I brought it along and left it in the kitchen.”

  From little things Letty had heard Lonny, Chase and Joy drop, her brother had made some effort to fix his relationship with Joy while Letty was in the hospital. Evidently whatever he’d said or done had worked, because the minute she mentioned Joy’s name to Lonny he got flustered.

  For her part, Joy did everything but stand on her head to change the subject. Letty wished she knew what was going on, but after one miserable attempt to involve herself in her brother’s love life, she knew better than to try again.

  “Mommy,” Cricket cried as she came running into the living room, pigtails skipping. “Jennybird ate an apple out of my hand! Chase showed me how to hold it so she wouldn’t bite me.” She looped her small arms around Letty’s neck and squeezed tight. “When can you come and watch me feed Jennybird?”

  “Soon.” At least, Letty hoped it would be soon.

  “Take your time,” Joy said. “There’s no reason to push yourself, Letty.”

  “You’re beginning to sound like Chase,” Letty said with a grin.

  Joy shook her head. “I doubt that. I’ve never seen a man more worried about anyone. The first few days after the surgery, he slept at the hospital. Lonny finally dragged him home, fed him and insisted he get some rest.”

  Joy wasn’t telling Letty anything she didn’t already know. Chase had been wonderful, more than wonderful, from the moment he’d learned about her heart condition. Now, if he’d only start treating her like a wife instead of a roommate.…

  “I want you to come and see my new bedroom,” Cricket said, reaching for Joy’s hand. “I’ve got a new bed with a canopy and a new bedspread and a new pillow and everything.”

  Joy turned to Letty. “Chase again?”

  Letty nodded. “He really spoils her.”

  “He loves her.”

  “He loves me,” Cricket echoed, pointing a finger at her chest. “But that’s okay, because I like being spoiled.”

  Letty sighed. “I know you do, sweetheart, but enough is enough.”

  Chase had been blunt about the fact that Cricket was his main consideration when he asked Letty to marry him. His point had been a valid one, but Letty couldn’t doubt for an instant that Chase loved them both. Although he hadn’t said the words, they weren’t necessary; he’d shown his feelings for her in a hundred different ways.

  “I’d better go take a gander at Cricket’s room, and then I should head back into town,” Joy said as she stood. “There’s a casserole in the refrigerator for dinner.”

  “Joy!” Letty protested. “You’ve done enough.”

  “Shush,” Joy said, waving her index finger under Letty’s nose. “It was a new recipe, and two were as easy to make as one.”

  “You’re going to have to come up with a better excuse than that, Joy. You’ve been trying out new recipes all week.” Although she chided her friend, Letty was grateful for all the help Joy had given her over the past month. Her visits in the afternoons had brought Chase peace of mind so he could work outside without constantly worrying about Letty. The casseroles and salads Joy contributed for dinner were a help, too.

  Chase wouldn’t allow Letty to do any of the household chores yet and insisted on preparing their meals himself. Never in a thousand years would Letty have dreamed that she’d miss doing laundry or dishes. But there was an unexpected joy in performing menial tasks for the people she loved. In the past few weeks, she’d learned some valuable lessons about life. She’d experienced the nearly overwhelming need to do something for someone else instead of being the recipient of everyone else’s goodwill.

  The house was peaceful and still as Joy followed Cricket up the stairs. When they returned a few minutes later, Cricket was yawning and dragging her blanket behind her.

  “I want to sleep with you today, Mommy.”

  “All right, sweetheart.”

  Cricket climbed into the chair across from Letty, which Joy had recently vacated, and curled up, wrapping her blanket around her. Letty knew her daughter would be asleep within five minutes.

  Watching the child, Letty was grateful that Cricket would be in the morning kindergarten class, since she still seemed to need an afternoon nap.

  Joy worked in the kitchen for a few minutes, then paused in the doorway, smiled at Cricket and waved goodbye. Letty heard the back door close as her friend left the house.

  In an hour or so Chase would come to check her. Letty cherished these serene moments alone and lay down on the couch to nap, too. A few minutes later she realized she wasn’t tired, and feeling good about that, she sat up. The extra time was like an unexpected gift and her gaze fell on the carton her brother had brought. Carefully Letty pried open the lid.

  Sorting through her mother’s personal things was bound to be a painful task, Letty thought as she lovingly removed each neatly packed item from the cardboard container.

  She pulled out a stack of old pattern books and set those aside. Her mother had loved to sew, often spending a winter evening flipping through these pages, planning new projects. Letty had learned her sewing skills from Maren, although it had been years since she’d sat down at a sewing machine.

  Sudden tears welled up in Letty’s eyes at the memories of her mother. Happy memories of a loving mother who’d worked much too hard and died far too young. A twinge of resentment struck her. Maren Ellison had given her life’s blood to the Bar E ranch. It had been her husband’s dream, not hers, and yet her mother had made the sacrifice.

  Letty wiped away her tears and felt a surge of sorrow over her mother’s death, coming so soon after her father’s. Maren had deserved a life so much better than the one she’d lived.

  Once Letty’s eyes had cleared enough to continue her task, she lifted out several large strips of brightly colored material in odd shapes and sizes and set them on the sofa. Bits and pieces of projects that had been carefully planned by her mother and now waited endlessly for completion.

  Then Letty withdrew what had apparently been her mother’s last project. With extreme caution, she unfolded the top of a vividly colored quilt, painstakingly stitched by hand.

  Examining the patchwork piece produced a sense of awe in Letty. She was astonished by the time and effort invested in the work, and even more astonished that she recognized several swatches of the material her mother ha
d used in the quilt. The huge red star at the very center had been created from a piece of leftover fabric from a dress her mother had made for Letty the summer she’d left home. A plaid piece in one corner was from an old western shirt she’d worn for years. After recognizing one swatch of material after another, Letty realized that her mother must have been making the quilt as a Christmas or birthday gift for her.

  Lovingly she ran the tips of her fingers over the cloth as her heart lurched with a sadness that came from deep within. Then it dawned on her that without too much difficulty she’d be able to finish the quilt herself. Everything she needed was right here. The task would be something to look forward to next winter, when the days were short and the nights were Arctic-cold.

  After folding the quilt top and placing it back in the box, Letty discovered a sketchbook, tucked against the side of the carton. Her heart soared with excitement as she reverently picked it up. Her mother had loved to draw, and her talent was undeniable.

  The first sketch was of a large willow against the backdrop of an evening sky. Letty recognized the tree immediately. Her mother had sketched it from their front porch years ago. The willow had been cut down when Letty was in her early teens, after lightning had struck it.

  Letty had often found her mother sketching, but the opportunity to complete any full-scale paintings had been rare. The book contained a handful of sketches, and once more Letty felt a wave of resentment. Maren Ellison had deserved the right to follow her own dreams. She was an artist, a woman who’d loved with a generosity that touched everyone she knew.

  “Letty.” Chase broke into her thoughts as he hurried into the house. He paused when he saw Cricket asleep in the chair. “I saw Joy leave,” he said, his voice a whisper.

  “Chase, there’s no need to worry. I can stay by myself for an hour or two.”

  He nodded, then wiped his forearm over his brow and awkwardly leaned over to brush his lips over her cheek. “I figured I’d drop in and make sure everything’s under control.”

  “It is.” His chaste kiss only frustrated Letty. She wanted to shout at him that the time had come for him to act like a married man instead of a saint.

  “What’s all this?” Chase asked, glancing around her. Letty suspected he only slept three hours a night. He never went to bed at the same time she did, and he was always up before she even stirred. Occasionally, she heard him slip between the sheets, but he stayed so far over on his side of the bed that they didn’t even touch.

  “A quilt,” Letty said, pointing at the cardboard box.

  “Is that the box Lonny brought here?”

  “Yes. Mom was apparently working on it when she died. She was making it for me.” Letty had to swallow the lump in her throat before she could talk again. She turned and pointed to the other things she’d found. “There’s some pieces of material in here and pattern books, as well.”

  “What’s this?”

  “A sketch pad. Mom was an artist,” Letty said proudly.

  His eyebrows drew together. “I didn’t realize that,” he said slowly. He flipped through the book of pencil sketches. “She was very talented.”

  Chase sounded a little surprised that he hadn’t known about her mother’s artistic abilities. “Mom was an incredible woman. I don’t think anyone ever fully appreciated that—I know I didn’t.”

  Chase stepped closer and massaged Letty’s shoulders with tenderness and sympathy. “You still miss her, don’t you?”

  Letty nodded. Her throat felt thick, and she couldn’t express everything she was feeling, all the emotion rising up inside her.

  Chase knelt in front of her, his gaze level with hers. He slipped his callused hands around the nape of her neck as he brought her into his arms. Letty rested her head against his shoulder, reveling in his warm embrace. It had been so long since he’d held her and even longer since he’d kissed her…really kissed her.

  Raising her head slightly, she ran the moist tip of her tongue along the side of his jaw. He filled her senses. Chase tensed, but still Letty continued her sensual movements, nibbling at his earlobe, taking it into her mouth…

  “Letty,” he groaned, “no.”

  “No what?” she asked coyly, already knowing his answer. Her mouth roved where it wanted, while she held his face in her hands, directing him as she wished. She savored the edge of his mouth, teasing him, tantalizing him, until he moaned anew.

  “Letty.” He brought his hands to her shoulders.

  Letty was certain he’d meant to push her away, but before he could, she raised her arms and slid them around his neck. Then she leaned against him. Chase held her there.

  “Letty.” Her name was a plea.

  “Chase, kiss me, please,” she whispered. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  Slowly, as if uncertain he was doing the right thing, Chase lowered his mouth to touch her parted lips with his. Letty didn’t move, didn’t breathe, for fear he’d stop. She would’ve screamed in frustration if he had. His brotherly pecks on the cheeks were worse than no kisses at all; they just made her crave everything she’d been missing. Apparently Chase had been feeling equally deprived, because he settled his mouth over hers with a passion and need that demanded her very breath.

  “What’s taken you so long?” she asked, her voice urgent.

  He answered her with another fiery kiss that robbed her of what little strength she still had. Letty heard a faint moan from deep within his chest.

  “Letty…this is ridiculous,” he murmured, breaking away, his shoulders heaving.

  “What is?” she demanded.

  “My kissing you like this.”

  He thrust his fingers through his hair. His features were dark and angry.

  “I’m your wife, Chase Brown. Can’t a man kiss his wife?”

  “Not like this…not when she’s—You’re recovering from heart surgery.” He moved away from her and briefly closed his eyes, as though he needed an extra moment to compose himself. “Besides, Cricket’s here.”

  “I’m your wife,” Letty returned, not knowing what else to say.

  “You think I need to be reminded of that?” he shot back. He got awkwardly to his feet and grabbed his hat and gloves. “I have to get to work,” he said, slamming his hat on top of his head. “I’ll be home in a couple of hours.”

  Letty couldn’t have answered him had she tried. She felt like a fool now.

  “Do you need anything before I go?” he asked without looking at her.

  “No.”

  He took several steps away from her, stopped abruptly, then turned around. “It’s going to be months before we can do—before we can be husband and wife in the full sense,” he said grimly. “I think it would be best if we avoided situations like this in the future. Don’t you agree?”

  Letty shrugged. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “So am I,” he returned grimly and left the house.

  “Mommy, I want to learn how to play another song,” Cricket called from the living room. She was sitting at the upright piano, her feet crossed and swinging. Letty had taught her “Chopsticks” earlier in the day. She’d been impressed with how easily her daughter had picked it up. Cricket had played it at least twenty times and was eager to master more tunes.

  “In a little while,” Letty said. She sat at the kitchen table, peeling potatoes for dinner and feeling especially proud of herself for this minor accomplishment. Chase would be surprised and probably a little concerned when he realized what she’d done. But the surgery was several weeks behind her and it was time to take on some of the lighter responsibilities. Preparing dinner was hardly an onerous task; neither was playing the piano with her daughter.

  Seeking her mother’s full attention, Cricket headed into the kitchen and reached for a peeler and a potato. “I’ll help you.”

  “All right, sweetheart.”

  The chore took only a few minutes, Letty peeling four spuds to Cricket’s one. Next the child helped her collect the peelings and clean off th
e table before leading her back into the living room.

  “Play something else, Mommy,” the little girl insisted, sitting on the bench beside Letty.

  Letty’s fingers ran lazily up and down the keyboard in a quick exercise. She hadn’t touched the piano until after her surgery. Letty supposed there was some psychological reason for this, but she didn’t want to analyze it now. Until Cricket’s birth, music had dominated her life. But after her daughter’s arrival, her life had turned in a different direction. Music had become a way of entertaining herself and occasionally brought her some paying work, although—obviously—that was no longer the case.

  “Play a song for me,” Cricket commanded.

  Letty did, smiling as the familiar keys responded to her touch. This piano represented so much love and so many good times. Her mother had recognized Letty’s musical gift when she was a child, only a little older than Cricket. Letty had started taking piano lessons in first grade. When she’d learned as much as the local music instructors could teach her, Maren had driven her into Rock Springs every week. A two-hour drive for a half-hour lesson.

  “Now show me how to do it like you,” Cricket said, completely serious. “I want to play just as good as you.”

  “Sweetheart, I took lessons for seven years.”

  “That’s okay, ’cause I’m five.”

  Letty laughed. “Here, I’ll play ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’ and then you can move your fingers the way I do.” Slowly she played the first lines, then dropped her hands on her lap while Cricket perfectly mimicked the simple notes.

  “This is fun,” Cricket said, beaming with pride.

  Ten minutes later, she’d memorized the whole song. With two musical pieces in her repertoire, Cricket was convinced she was possibly the most gifted musical student in the history of Red Springs.

  The minute Chase was in the door, Cricket flew to his side. “Chase! Chase, come listen.”

 

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