Always and Forever

by Wendy Lindstrom

  “I can hardly wait.” Her eyes lit with excitement only to dim in the next instant. “Oh, dear, I don’t know what to take. We don’t have much... that is, I’m not certain what ingredients I have to...” She lowered her hands, the dishtowel dangling at her side. “I’m sure I’ll find something to take along.”

  The tiny frown lines between her dark eyebrows was his undoing. “Don’t fret, Nancy. I have a few coins left. I’ll leave money on the parlor table and you can get whatever you need.”

  “Thank you,” she said, crossing the parlor to sit across from him. “I know our situation is... difficult at present. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “You’re doing more than your share already.” He shook his head, exhausted. “You can help by understanding why I need to spend my evenings working.”

  “I do,” she said, softly. “I thought you would head to the barn right after supper this evening. I was surprised to find you still in the parlor.”

  “I needed to rest my back before hunching over a table to sand chair spindles. I’ll head back out shortly.”

  She seemed to contemplate the dishtowel in her hands for a few seconds and then shifted her attention to the book he was reading. “Did you like to read as a boy?”

  He shook his head. “I preferred to spend my time outside in the woods or fishing our pond and sometimes even spending a Sunday afternoon swimming and fishing at the lake.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Oh, that must have been marvelous fun.”

  “It was. We’d spend the day watching fishing boats and steamers coming in and out of the harbor.”

  “Did you ever see a ship?” she asked, her enthusiasm keeping her on the edge of her chair.

  “A couple of times, but when I lived in Crane Landing, I actually watched a ship launch. Twice.”

  Nancy’s brows furrowed. “Where is Crane Landing?”

  “In southern Maine. My grandad has a mill there and he saws planks and keel beams and other materials for Crane Shipbuilding. I lived there until I was nine and then my father brought us all to Buffalo. But while I lived in Crane Landing, I saw the Cranes launch two ships, and it was spectacular. It’s something I’ll never forget.” The memory of that paramount event still had the power to fill Hal with excitement and a wild sense of adventure. “Watching those huge sails swell with wind and lift the massive hull several inches higher in the water was incredible. That’s the first time I understood how powerful wind and water can be.”

  Nancy laced her fingers and tucked them between her knees, creating a dip in the pretty blue fabric of her skirt. Her eyes filled with wonder as if she were standing in the midst of a busy shipyard or watching a launch from the shore. “I can only imagine how exciting it must have been to build those magnificent vessels and see them sail off across the ocean. Why on earth would your father leave all of that, and a beautiful ocean, to come to this small village?”

  “Steamers. My father moved us to Buffalo, not Fredonia, where he built a sawmill and cut timbers and planks for the steamer trade. The Buffalo shipyards are building steamboats at a mad pace and they need lumber. My father saw an opportunity and decided it was time to build his own sawmill business. So he set up shop in Buffalo and captured some of that business. Or at least he had until recently.”

  “Do they not have other sawmills in Buffalo?”

  “Sure, but my father has been sawing keel beams and deck planks and other materials since he was a boy. That experience gives the fellas building steamships a bit more comfort in buying materials from him.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t remain in Buffalo with your father. Surely you were part of his business by now?”

  Inwardly, Hal grimaced. “John and I both worked for my father, but things didn’t go as planned. I moved here to do some furniture building for A. B. Edwards, and I talked John Radford into buying this house and the mill and going into business with me.” A sick feeling settled in Hal’s gut and he released a sigh. “It had seemed like a good and reasonable plan for two industrious young men. But it’s becoming a nightmare for one.”

  “I’m very sorry,” Nancy said, her voice filled with sympathy. “I can only imagine how stressful it is to shoulder all of this on your own and how terribly painful it is to lose a sibling. It shames me deeply that I’ve complicated your life at such a heartbreaking time.”

  Any complications in Hal’s life were of his own making. He shouldn’t have left his father’s business at such a critical time. He shouldn’t have involved John Radford in his own pursuits. He should have put Nancy back on that train to spare her days of backbreaking work.

  “I’m glad to have you here,” he said, and he meant it. “You’re making our home quite comfortable and I appreciate your effort to make the best of an unexpected and awkward situation. Regardless of our circumstance, I need to do the same.”

  Her lips parted; her expression uncertain as if she meant to reply and didn’t know what to say. Her face, so beautiful in the glow of the lantern thoroughly captivated him. This petite, intriguing woman was his bride.

  His wife.

  The woman he would spend the rest of his life with.

  But the innocence in her eyes reminded him she was as much a girl as a woman.

  His expression must have reflected his thoughts because her uncertainty turned to unease, as if she knew he was admiring her and thinking about the children they would one day have together. They were new to each other and they needed time to get to know each other better, but at some point they would make this a real marriage.

  And that was a train of thought he couldn’t afford now.

  “I’d best get back to those spindles,” he said, pushing to his feet and crossing the parlor. In the foyer he stopped and glanced back at her. “I’ll be a while. Goodnight, Nancy.”

  Disappointment filled her eyes, but she didn’t protest. She sat on the sofa and began working on a shirt she’d been stitching for him. Each evening after supper she darned socks and repaired tears and added buttons to his clothing. It seemed everything she did was for him or to please him.

  He’d done nothing for her. Not one thing. And that needed to change.

  Chapter Ten

  Late Sunday morning, Nancy whacked the ball through the wickets set up in the Tucker’s side yard. Her ball sailed through with ease causing groans of distress from the Tuckers and a chuckle from Hal. Croquette was one thing she was good at. She’d spent many hours enjoying the game on the back lawn with her sister Elizabeth and oftentimes with her parents and family friends.

  “Nancy, you’ll be my partner next time,” Mary said, laughing. She turned to her husband and caressed his cheek. “William, darling, let’s give them stiffer competition.”

  “I’ll try, my love, but I’m worried that Hal is catching on and will make this more difficult yet.”

  Nancy laughed with her new friends and with Hal, who seemed surprisingly attentive today. Was her tall, handsome husband actually enjoying being her partner in their neighborly games? She hoped so because she wanted the kind of love that Mary and William Tucker shared. She wanted to laugh with Hal and exchange private glances with him as Mary and William had been doing all day. Tom and Martha Fiske were sharing that same silent, intimate conversation as Tom lovingly tended Martha and the baby she was carrying.

  Again, Nancy’s eyes cut to her husband, wondering what might be occupying his thoughts as he played a lawn game with her on a sunny Sunday morning. For all she knew he was thinking about the mill or his latest project for Addison Edwards. But then their eyes met and Hal’s were filled with curiosity... and something warmer... as if he wanted to draw her into his arms for a private conversation.

  Mary tapped Hal on the shoulder. “Mr. Grayson, if you can take your eyes off your bride for a moment, it’s your play.”

  The others laughed, but a flood of heat rushed up Nancy’s neck and face. Knowing her husband wasn’t oblivious to her was encouraging, but his public display surprised and flus
tered her.

  Hal simply grinned and shrugged. “Forgive my lapse. I find my wife far more interesting than a wooden ball and a cluster of wickets.” To Nancy’s utter shock, Hal gave her a flirtatious wink and then casually turned to make his play.

  Stunned, Nancy stood with her mouth slack as Mary and Martha exchanged smiles. Perhaps they felt somewhat responsible for pairing Nancy with Hal and were pleased with their work. Whatever was at play between the ladies remained a mystery, much like her husband’s surprising actions, as they finished their match.

  Afterward, they lunched on the porch, Hal talking business with the men, and Nancy learning all she could about preparing meals and gardening from her new friends. Though Nancy did her best to follow along and learn, her thoughts continued to stray to her husband as often as his gaze seemed to stray to her face.

  As the afternoon grew late, Nancy told Mary that she’d finally finished preparing the garden and was ready for planting. Much to Hal’s surprise and displeasure, Nancy had tilled the garden herself. Her back ached, and despite wearing gloves, her palms were blistered from working the hoe. But she was immensely proud of managing the task herself and for sparing her husband another chore he didn’t have time to tend.

  After a warm farewell, Nancy and Hal headed across the orchard. “They are such lovely people,” Nancy said, keeping her hand tucked lightly in the crook of her husband’s arm. “I thoroughly enjoyed myself today.”

  “They are indeed,” he said, glancing down. “I gather this wasn’t your first time playing croquette?” His eyes sparkled and a slight grin tipped his mouth.

  Was he actually teasing her? “My sister and I spent many hours trying to best each other.”

  “And where did this take place?” he asked, his charming smile still in place.

  “On our back lawn, of course.”

  “And that was in Buffalo?”

  “It was, yes. I do wish, however, that I’d spent less time playing croquette and had taken time to learn more about gardening. I’ll feel positively terrible if I take Mary’s plants and they die.”

  He didn’t comment. He simply gazed into her eyes as if he could see her innermost thoughts. “I confess, Nancy, that your ability to change the subject is an admirable skill, but I had hoped you would be more forthcoming about your past now that we’re married.”

  A flood of heat burned through her body. She had just been congratulating herself for redirecting the topic without him noticing, but apparently Hal Grayson noticed everything... about her at least.

  He stopped and faced her, his expression serious. “I’ve a right to ask questions, do I not? I’d like to know my wife before we... that is... I know next to nothing about you.”

  His unfinished sentence hung between them. Before what? Before they consummated their vows?

  “Are you in danger?” he asked. “Is that why you ran off and agreed to marry a stranger?”

  “I’m not in danger. I can assure you of that at least.” As she looked up at him, streaks of pink and orange filled the evening sky. His face was shadowed making it hard for her to read his emotions, but it didn’t matter. “I told you why I left my home,” she said, unwilling to share more until their marriage was consummated and Hal had as much to lose as she did. “I couldn’t marry the man my sister loved. It’s that simple.”

  He opened his mouth as if to press her, but then he gave a sharp nod and said, “All right then. I’ll leave this for now because if I don’t finish sanding those spindles and get those chairs finished tonight I may have to shoot myself.”

  His declaration made her grin. “Please don’t. I don’t want to be left a widow, nor do I want to be responsible for finishing those spindles.”

  A surprised laugh burst from him and he stared in amazement. “Nancy, did you just make a joke?” he asked.

  She playfully arched her brow. “You doubt my ability to jest? Or to sand wood?”

  “I’m not questioning your sense of humor. But after your first effort at building a fire, I’m certain I prefer that you leave the sanding to me.”

  A wave of embarrassment rolled over Nancy, but she enjoyed Hal’s teasing. “I paid dearly for that mistake. I haven’t smoked us out of the house since, have I?”

  “Thank you for that.”

  “Thank you for this lovely day,” she said, gazing up into his eyes. She loved the strength of his slightly squared jaw, the way his black brows and eyelashes made every look from his eyes seem private and heated. “This is a very pleasant side of you.”

  His eyelashes lowered as his gaze dipped to her mouth. For a moment they were still, as if the slightest movement would shatter the moment. She felt his hand come up and cup her cheek gently for just a moment. Then a slow sigh slipped between Hal’s lips. He lowered his hand and met her eyes. “It’s been a good day, but I’m afraid it’s time for me to head to the barn. Shall I walk you back to the house?”

  Like rain beating down a new blossom the hope in her stomach grew heavy. “I think I’ll stay and listen to the creek for a few minutes,” she said, because she couldn’t hold her husband’s arm and not hope for more.

  “All right then, I’ll be off.” And he was. Without a kiss or tender word, he turned and walked away, his long legs eating up the distance to the barn. He left the door open, but no light penetrated beyond the gaping maw of the entrance.

  She couldn’t see into the barn any more clearly than she could see into her husband’s thoughts.

  Had he enjoyed their banter and playful moment as much as she had? His laugh seemed to indicate as much. His eyes seemed pleased by what they saw. Still, the minute she got too close Hal pulled back and kept her at a distance.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mid-day sun lit up the orchard and soothed Hal’s aching shoulders as he crossed the driveway toward the barn. The thought of stretching out beneath one of the apple trees for a long nap was so tempting his step faltered, as if his body knew what it needed even if his brain insisted otherwise. But it was the middle of his workday and he had hours of work ahead of him.

  And so he placed one booted foot in front of the other. The luxury of napping was something he couldn’t indulge for a good long time. He had a sawmill sitting idle because of a broken chain. He needed to retrieve some tools from the barn and get back to the mill. With any luck he’d get the wheel operating again and finish sawing the oak order that should have shipped a week ago.

  Sighing, Hal surveyed his home and the mounting chores waiting for him. To his surprise, he spied Nancy behind the house, digging in the dirt.

  She knelt in the middle of her small a small garden wearing some type of smock over her dress. Her blue skirt spread around her like a lake in the dark soil. A gray tiger cat, the same one that had been hunting Hal’s barn since he moved in, arched his back and rubbed against her leg.

  Flabbergasted, Hal stopped at the edge of the garden bed. “How did you manage to get your hands on that little terror?” he asked in amazement. Hal had tried to approach the tomcat on numerous occasions and it wouldn’t allow him within five feet of him.

  Nancy glanced up in surprise, a wide smile breaking across her face. “I didn’t realize you were home!”

  The tomcat eyed him, but it was used to Hal popping in and out of the barn and knew he wouldn’t be chased off. And Hal was still safely outside the cat’s declared territory.

  “Is this your cat?” Nancy asked. Her eyes were as brown as the soil, but filled with light and tenderness.

  “No. He’s a little rascal I tolerate because he rids the barn of mice.”

  Crestfallen, she turned back to the cat and stroked its head. “Hey there, little fella, where do you live?”

  “I suspect he lives wherever he can find a meal,” Hal said, moving closer, but making sure he didn’t step into the cat’s territory.

  Nancy looked up at him, a hopeful expression on her beautiful face. “If he doesn’t have a home, may we give him one?”

  “He’s welcome
to hunt the barn and field all he likes.”

  “But what happens when winter comes? Surely you won’t leave him outside?”

  “He can shelter in the barn. I suspect that’s where he’s been sleeping.”

  Nancy wrinkled her nose at him and then whispered to the cat, “I’ll sneak you in the kitchen door, Captain, and we’ll snuggle together next to the stove. Just don’t tell Mr. Grayson.”

  “Captain, is it?” Hal laughed because her conversation was so silly and endearing.

  “Yes. Captain tells me he’s a great explorer,” she said, stroking the cat’s ears. “The name fits him.”

  It did, actually, and that made Hal shake his head. He not only had a wife now, but had apparently just acquired a cat as well.

  “I didn’t realize you’d be stopping home for lunch,” she said, standing to brush the cat fur and garden soil off her dress.

  But Hal was too surprised by what she was wearing to comment. He cocked his head and surveyed his bride. “Nancy, are you... are you wearing my shirt?”

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to protect my dress. I borrowed the oldest most worn one in your closet.”

  If not for Nancy, that shirt would have been dirty and lying on the floor or tossed over a chair. The shirt dwarfed her torso and hung nearly to her knees. The whole scene was so... unexpected, and yet so endearing that Hal felt a flood of warmth fill his chest. “You’re welcome to whatever you need, Nancy. I hadn’t meant to interrupt your day. I just stopped home to fetch a tool for the mill.”

  “Come to the house on your way out and I’ll prepare lunch for you.”

  “I won’t have time—”

  “An apple is not a proper lunch,” she insisted, cutting off his protest. “You’re as stubborn as you are skinny, Hal Grayson. Give me a minute to scrub my hands and I’ll fix something for you to eat.” With that she hiked her skirt and picked her way through the garden, planting her small booted feet between rows of spiky green shoots and leaves that she’d been tending like a mother hen since she’d planted them a week ago.