Homespun Hearts

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Homespun Hearts Page 15

by Caroline Fyffe

Her accusatory words to Luke kept rolling around in her mind, making her want to be sick. She wished she could run to him now and beg his forgiveness, tell him she hadn’t meant a word of it. After all he had done for her, more than any other human being in the world ever had, what must he think of her crudeness?

  Without any effort at all she could fall in love with him. She knew it. For the first time in her life she understood what love could be, and how it should be and how it felt. But, where would that leave her? Guarding her feelings had to be her number-one priority. She had no doubt that Ward would be livid if he believed there was something real growing here. Maybe he’d even be murderous.

  Her heart hurt. It pulled like a dead weight in her chest. All those awful things she’d said to Luke made her want to scream. But, she had to discourage him for the safety of everyone, not just herself or the children. So much was at stake, and she hated the idea that Ward might try to take revenge on anyone who’d been kind to her.

  When she’d awakened in Luke’s arms, in the buggy, his lips next to hers, she’d thought she just might be in heaven. Anguish and regret, so intense for what might have been, made her grasp the banister for support as she slowly descended the curving staircase. Luke had said he’d been thinking about settling down. Settling down! Imagine that. He wouldn’t have said it if he hadn’t meant it. Would he?

  She peeked into the kitchen, with its flagstone floor and big wooden crossbeams on the high ceiling. It was empty. Would anyone mind if she made herself a cup of tea? And where had everyone gone off to, anyway? Perhaps they were over at one of the other houses, Matt’s or Mark’s. She felt certain that wherever they were, Colton was with them, safe and sound.

  Coals in the large cast-iron stove still glowed red. Faith filled a kettle from the pump at the sink and set it on top to heat. Next she’d find a cup and the tea itself.

  Successfully locating and preparing everything she needed, Faith took her cup and went back into the living room to the tapestry chair she loved so much. Startled, she almost dropped the hot liquid. The chair was occupied.

  “I’m sorry if I frightened you,” Amy, Mark’s wife, said. Moonlight streamed in the window, it’s soft illumination making the room cozy.

  “I’ve made some tea. Would you like a cup?” Faith asked.

  Amy shook her head. “No, thank you.”

  “Tea tastes better if it’s shared.”

  “No, really. I’m fine.”

  Sadness was etched on Amy’s face as clear as footprints on freshly fallen snow. Faith remembered Rachel telling her about Amy losing her baby a short time ago. Just the thought of losing either Colton or Dawn made her heart tremble.

  With Amy, it seemed like more than that. The way she never really looked at anyone, never met her husband’s gaze…The protectiveness within Faith surfaced and she was overcome with the desire to help.

  She handed Amy her cup. “Here, take this. I haven’t sipped yet. I’ll be right back.”

  She returned with another cup and sat on the sofa opposite the sad girl. Amy certainly was pretty, with her olive skin and shiny black hair. She was as thin as a willow, and the way she sat made Faith think she wanted to fade into the chair, never to be seen again.

  “Your husband is a very nice man. I got to know him on the cattle drive,” she said.

  “Mmm,” was Amy’s only response.

  Faith took a sip of her tea, not knowing quite how to proceed. She shifted in her seat, thinking. Amy needed a friend, someone to talk to. She didn’t want to pry and it would be easier to just look the other way, but sometimes action was needed. “I heard someone say that you two are newlyweds. Is that right?”

  For the first time, Amy smiled. It was brief. “Yes.”

  “How nice. How long have the two of you been married?”

  The young woman worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “Six months. We were married on Valentine’s Day.”

  Faith nodded. “Valentine’s Day? How special. I’ll bet it was a pretty wedding.”

  Amy’s lips again curved up, but the smile never reached her eyes. “It was beautiful. Mrs. McCutcheon fixed this room up so nice. She had red hearts and white lace everywhere. It was a sight.”

  That had been a good icebreaker, Faith decided, taking another sip of her tea. Drumming up her courage she said, “I never really had a wedding. The justice of the peace married us and then it was back to the farm, back to work as usual. I’m not complaining, mind you, but I’d love to hear about your wedding. Would you mind sharing?”

  Amy hesitated, perhaps deciding if Faith was serious.

  “Please.”

  “Well,” the other woman began, “like I said before, it was Valentine’s Day. I didn’t have time to make a wedding dress of my own, so Mrs. McCutcheon let me wear hers. It fit me perfect, and she said I looked just like a princess.” Her voice quavered and suddenly she buried her face in her hands.

  “I’m sorry,” Faith said quickly, distressed she’d caused Amy pain in her effort to help. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

  “I want to. Really. It just makes me sad. Everything was so wonderful then.” Wiping her eyes with a hankie she’d pulled from her pocket, Amy gazed out the window. With a deep breath, she continued. “I came down the stairs slowly, and Mark was standing by the window next to the preacher. Matt and Luke were next to him. Charity and Rachel stood waiting for me. You should have seen the three men, all in their finest clothes. They were so handsome, and Mark looked so happy.”

  Looking at Faith, the girl stopped. Was she going to go on? Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to bring this up. Faith didn’t want to make matters worse.

  “We said our vows, promising to love and cherish each other for all time. Through good and bad.”

  “It sounds like something out of a story,” Faith said.

  “Oh, it was. After the ceremony we had the grandest dinner, with everything you can think of. We even drank champagne.”

  “Champagne! I’ve never had it. Is it good?”

  “Extraordinary.”

  Her happiness seemed forced, though, and at that moment Faith recognized herself in this lost girl. More than ever she wanted to help her, to be Amy’s friend.

  “It has little bubbles that go up your nose when you take a sip. I had a whole glass and started giggling at everything…” Amy stopped again, her eyes filled. “Ma and Pa didn’t come.”

  “Why not?” Faith was astounded. It sounded like the most perfect celebration. Why wouldn’t parents come to their daughter’s wedding? She could see the want in Amy’s eyes. The hunger to trust her. To tell her. But Amy held back.

  “It’s all right,” she urged. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

  “They were ashamed of me. For getting in the family way. Pa said I was plain trash, and that I’d had to trap a man to get a husband. Growing up they were very strict about everything. Especially boys.”

  Faith went and wrapped her arms tightly around the girl. As Amy cried, Faith stroked her hair as she’d done a thousand times with Colton. “Shh, Amy. Don’t cry.”

  “But, it’s true. I am bad. That’s why I lost our baby. God was punishing me.”

  “No, no, that’s not true. You’re not bad,” Faith crooned. “From what I see, you’re a sweet girl with lots of love for everyone.”

  Amy raised her head and stared into Faith’s eyes. “Then why did I lose our baby?”

  “I don’t know why things like that happen. It’s a mystery. Sometimes they just do, and there’s no telling why. But I’m sure of one thing: God didn’t do it to punish you. He would never do that. Why, I bet he feels just as bad about it as you do.”

  Several moments of silence filled the room. “I just wish it hadn’t happened. Everything is so different now. And I know Mark blames me.”

  “I’m sorry, Amy.” Faith sat back. “But, I just don’t believe that. It’s true I haven’t known Mark that long, but blaming someone for something they had no
control over just isn’t right. He doesn’t seem like that kind. I think you’re imagining it.”

  “No, I’m not. He never touches me. We hardly even talk. He’s changed since that horrible day. When he looks at me now, I see the truth in his eyes. He’s sorry that he married me.”

  “You’re mistaken. I can’t guess to know what Mark is thinking, but goodness, Amy, everyone in this family seems very fair.” Faith sat back and picked up her teacup. A sip of the fragrant liquid bolstered her nerves.

  Amy’s smile trembled. “Thank you for listening, Faith. And for talking, too. Even though I didn’t want to at first, I do feel better. It’s as if I let some of my sadness out.”

  Faith felt hope. She liked this girl. She didn’t know why Mark was acting like he was, but she felt sure that it wasn’t because he blamed his wife for losing their baby.

  “Where is everyone?” she remembered to ask. She’d been so involved with Amy’s problems, she forgot to ask about Colton.

  “Over at Matthew and Rachel’s. She prepared dinner for everyone tonight. They were sorry that you and Luke missed it.”

  At the mention of Luke, Faith felt like she’d been dealt a physical blow. Again she wondered how she could have said those things to him. And, where was he now?

  “Was Colton there too?” she asked.

  “Yes, with Billy and Adam. Those three have become fast friends.” The clock in the living room chimed ten o’clock, and Amy added, “Flood had his fiddle out, and the boys were hopping around like water on a hot skillet. But don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll be along shortly.”

  “You’re right. I should relish the quiet while he’s occupied. Dawn is enough of a handful.”

  A shadow crossed Amy’s face, a trace of the old sadness. “Can we go up and see her?” she asked.

  “You sure you feel up to it?”

  Amy nodded. “I just want to look at her. If it’s all right?”

  “Of course. But be warned, if she wakes up, you’re the one to hold her until she goes back to sleep,” Faith teased.

  They both smiled, and this time Amy seemed to mean it.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Luke watched the girls from the shadows of the darkened hallway. They whispered and giggled over the sleeping Dawn, who was peacefully unaware that she was the object of attention. He could see by their ease with each other that they were becoming friends.

  He was glad. Amy, for one, had worried the hell out of him. After she’d lost the baby, a horrible experience they’d all lived through, she withdrew into a world of her own, staying clear of everyone and everything, including her new husband. His mother was worried sick. Everything she’d done to try to draw Amy from her protective shell had been for naught. But now her laughter sounded, music to his ears, and Luke wished Mark were around to hear it.

  “It’s so amazing Luke delivered her!” Astonishment colored Amy’s words. “Weren’t you horrified?”

  “When he first came into my wagon and found me, I was awfully scared. I supposed he was an outlaw and that he’d slit my throat for the little money I had. He was so big, and his black eyes were frightening…” Faith admitted.

  Luke stepped back a bit farther into the hall. An outlaw? If he’d truly been an outlaw, Colton would have done the right thing by hitting him with that pan. Holding back his chuckle, he strained to hear more.

  “Did he actually…you know. Look?”

  Faith ducked her head shyly. “Yes, he did. But, by that time I really didn’t care if every man in the whole territory came marching through my wagon with drums and tambourines. It was pure misery, and I was just relieved he stayed with me.”

  Amy giggled again. “I just can’t picture him. Oh, how I wish I’d been there.”

  Faith reached down and stroked Dawn’s hair. “He held my hand the whole time. Imagine that, a girl he didn’t even know, hour after hour.” Her voice was featherlight. “I never even thanked him.”

  Luke stood frozen. His heart pumped so hard he felt like he’d just run up the staircase. This wasn’t what he’d been expecting to hear. He hadn’t forseen it to be so personal. Swallowing, he turned to leave.

  “You love him,” Amy said. “I can hear it in your voice. Are you going to marry him?”

  That stopped Luke dead. He waited for Faith’s answer.

  “No. Not him, not Ward, not the Man in the Moon. I’m going to Priest’s Crossing to work and support my children and myself,” Faith said. “I hated being married, and I never want to be again.”

  Well, that was plain enough. He’d have to be jelly-brained not to understand.

  “You don’t mean it,” Amy said. “It was wonderful with Mark and me at first. I used to count the moments until he was home from working the cattle.”

  “That’s because you have a good husband. One who cares for you.”

  Amy shook her head. “I don’t know about that. Not anymore.”

  “Yes, he does,” Faith said. “I think you should just go home and talk to him. Tell him how you feel. It will be hard at first, but just force yourself to start talking. Then, don’t stop until you’ve told him everything you just told me. That’s what I’d do, anyway. I think you may be surprised.”

  “Oh, Faith, I’m scared. But I’m happy, too! You’ve made me see things differently.” Amy wrapped her arms around Faith, and the girls embraced. “I owe you everything.”

  Luke hurried down the hall, not wanting to get caught eavesdropping. Sounds from outside filtered in. His mother’s laugh. Charity’s voice, low, hushing an excited Adam. Everyone was coming home.

  Everyone else. The outsider. He was always the outsider.

  Trying to shake off the morose mood that was descending, he thought of Amy. She’d had a breakthrough tonight. She seemed well along the way to recovery, and they had Faith to thank for it. Strong, independent Faith. The girl who’d seemed so fragile when he’d found her in the wagon. Was she really the same woman?

  From the upper landing he watched his family come through the door. “Luke,” Charity called out. “We missed you.”

  “Yeah. I was disappointed to miss Rachel’s dinner, too. Maybe she’ll do another one soon. What’d she fix?”

  “Chicken and dumplings.”

  Luke acted like he was crushed, when actually he couldn’t keep his mind on food or anything else. Like a great big dust devil, Faith’s words kept whirling around inside him. “‘Not even the Man in the Moon,’” he mumbled to himself, chin resting on his palm, elbow propped on the railing. It was more of a sigh than anything else.

  Amy breezed by, giving him a pat on the arm. “I wouldn’t bet on it.”

  Luke was so surprised that he had to catch himself from falling. Before he had a chance to ask what she meant, she was gone.

  In came Colton, followed by Adam, who was chatting happily, trying to get his attention. Faith came around the corner next, obviously surprised to find him. Crimson started at her neck and slowly climbed to her hairline.

  Good. He hoped she was worried about what he might have overheard. It wouldn’t hurt her to fret a bit.

  “Faith.” He nodded.

  “Luke,” she answered, looking down at the people milling in the living room. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Just got here,” he fibbed. Best she didn’t know that he’d heard her calling him a bandit. “Where’s Billy?” he called down to his mother and Flood.

  “He stayed home. He and Colton had a spitting contest. Colton won,” Mrs. McCutcheon replied. She added, “I wish Smokey would quit encouraging that behavior.”

  “They’re boys, Ma,” Luke commented. “You can’t expect ’em to sit around knitting doilies.” Even out here in Montana, his mother was always insisting on proper manners. She never let it alone. She’d been thrilled beyond measure when John had expressed an interest in university. It had been good for Luke and his brothers, too, taking the pressure off.

  Colton glanced up, a worried expression on his face. “Sorry,
Ma. I guess I should’ve let Billy win.”

  “Never be ashamed of winning, Colton,” Flood said. “Always give it your best, whatever you do. That way it won’t take the glory away from your opponent if he wins.” He ruffled the boy’s hair. “Give it your all, and you won’t have any regrets.”

  Luke looked over at Faith. She was pretending not to notice his regard, but why else would her toe be tapping nervously on the hall runner?

  “Everyone to bed; it’s getting late.” Mrs. McCutcheon picked up the lantern she’d placed on the entry table and started up the stairs. Reaching the landing, she smiled. “You’re quiet tonight, Faith. How did you like the upper crest?”

  “It was wonderful. And the river and flowers were gorgeous.”

  “I thought you’d like it. It was one of my favorite places when Flood and I first married,” she said, a secretive twinkle in her eye. “I guess it still is.”

  “To bed, woman,” Flood said, swatting her behind as he passed. “These young people can’t keep up with the likes of you. They need their rest.”

  “I suppose. But remember, Faith, if you need anything at all, I’m just down the hall.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Lying in bed the next morning, Faith didn’t want to take the chance of getting up and have Mrs. McCutcheon send her off someplace with Luke, beautiful or not. Her nerves, worn out from yesterday, needed a respite. After everyone was gone she would venture down.

  Dawn was snuggled peacefully beside her, happily fed and dry. The baby gurgled and cooed good-naturedly, seemingly content with her mother’s decision of solitude. Much earlier, Faith had heard Luke rise across the hall. The squeaking floor marked his every move as he dressed and prepared for the day; his door opened and she’d heard him leave. She’d longed to peek out for a small glimpse of him, but she refrained, remembering how she’d been caught in the hall yesterday by Matt.

  Restlessness crept over her. She’d never before just lain in bed. There were always things begging to be done; the rigors of farm life didn’t allow a body to luxuriate in such fashion. Even on Sundays, hungry animals waited to be fed. And, of course, there was Penelope. She got downright fussy if she wasn’t milked. Sighing, Faith hoped someone was tending to the sweet old cow.

 

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