As she thumped the pie onto the sideboard, relieved to see it still intact, James peered over her shoulder.
“Some of the juice ran over,” she mumbled, waving the smoke away with her apron.
James grinned at her sheepishly. “Seems I ought to be praising God for Aunt Caroline.”
“What? Oh.” She felt her face get red. Was he trying to torment her? She shouldn’t have let him kiss her, and he knew it. “Supper’s getting cold,” she said tartly. She pulled out her own chair without waiting for him and sank into it.
James leaned back in his chair, trying in vain to hold back a snicker. He shouldn’t tease Abby so much, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. He loved the way she got all flustered and pink-cheeked.
She sent him a mock glare over the table, and he obediently closed his eyes to offer the blessing. He had scarcely said “amen” before she was up and bustling around again.
“Come sit down with me, woman!” he ordered playfully.
She ignored him, busily dipping lemonade into their stoneware mugs. James sighed and turned his attention to the meal. Everything smelled so good. He took an enormous helping of greens, wondering where she had gotten them this time of year. He thought that she had already harvested all the turnips and collard greens.
She dropped heavily into the chair across from him, wiping her forehead with her apron. “Sure is hot for September, isn’t it?”
“Mm hmm,” he said, his mouth full of potatoes. He took a sip of lemonade. “Fine supper you cooked, Mrs. Parrish.”
She grinned at him, the weariness momentarily lifting from her brow. “My mama taught me right, I guess.” She watched as he savored a mouthful of greens, her eyes widening when he grimaced.
Good grief! Where did she get these nasty things? It was all he could do not to spit them out on his plate.
“Is something wrong?” Her face was troubled.
He coughed into his napkin then hastily gulped some lemonade. “Just took a bite of something bitter,” he said mildly.
She frowned, tasting a bit from her own plate. Her eyes watered. “You needn’t have been so polite, James. They’re downright inedible.”
He tried not to laugh at the misery on her face. “It’s not the end of the world, love. Where did you find these, anyway?”
She made a face. “Well, I wanted to surprise you, so I made a rhubarb pie and—what?”
He closed his eyes briefly then glanced at her. “Abby, rhubarb leaves are poisonous.”
“What? Oh, no, James! I didn’t know—”
He reached across the table to capture her shaking hands in his own. “It’s all right. Neither one of us ate enough to have any effect.”
“How could I have been so stupid?”
His thumbs stroked the backs of her hands soothingly. “I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.”
She sniffed. “I hope you don’t think I was trying to k–kill you.” A giggle slipped out with the last word, as the humor of the situation struck her. “I can just see the Denver Post headlines now: New Bride Kills Husband WITH Mess OF Greens.”
James let loose with the guffaw he had been suppressing. Soon they were howling together, tears streaming down Abby’s face. James took a drink, trying to regain a modicum of control but nearly choked on the liquid when Abby started giggling again.
Finally, they turned their attentions to the cold potatoes and pork, trying not to look at each other, lest they start again. Abby reached for the salt cellar, accidentally bumping James’s hand. Their eyes met, which only started James off again with a snort. Abby got tickled all over again, her breath coming in short gasps.
“Stop laughing, James,” she said between giggles. “I can’t breathe!”
He raised his eyebrows. “Maybe you should take some of these greens to the next church social. Sure would liven things up a bit.”
She made a face at him. “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone about them.”
“Who said I would tell anyone? We could just put them out on the table and let them speak for them—What’s wrong?”
She giggled again. “Nothing. I just thought I felt—” Her eyes widened, and she grasped her middle.
James felt his mouth go dry. “Is it time?”
She nodded. “I think so. It must have been those greens.”
How could she joke at a time like this? He scraped his chair back and rushed around the table to her. “Shouldn’t you lie down?”
She smiled up at him, and his heart turned over. “I think it will be awhile yet, sweet—James.” Her face flushed as she caught herself, yet she didn’t break eye contact with him.
He stroked her smooth cheek with the back of his fingers. Had she really started to say what he thought she did? Could it be that she was beginning to feel for him even a small bit of what he felt for her? God, please let it be so!
“What can I do for you, love?” he whispered. He would never admit this to her, but he was scared stiff at the thought of losing her in childbirth. God, please help me….
She leaned her head into his hand. “Just to know that you’re here is enough,
James.”
Abby’s predictions proved true. Hours had passed since she felt her first labor pains. James had been almost frantic at first, but he regained his composure as he realized that the birth was not imminent. He had sat next to her throughout the long evening, marveling at the way her stomach would become rock-hard with each contraction. Easy and relatively pain-free at first, they were now becoming harder. More painful. Much more frequent.
“I think it’s time to get Ada,” Abby murmured.
James stirred from his dozing in the chair next to hers. “What, love?”
“I think you’d better get Ada now,” she said, grimacing. Whew. That one was the hardest yet.
James clapped his hat on his head then bent to kiss her tenderly. “Shall I help you into the bed before I go?”
She nodded, fighting back the urge to pant. She didn’t want to alarm James, but she was beginning to think that the baby would be here sooner than she had anticipated.
“Hurry, please,” she whispered as the door slammed behind him. Why, oh why hadn’t she let him fetch the midwife when he wanted to an hour ago? Weeks before, Abby had decided that she’d rather have their neighbor, Ada McReady, as a midwife than a doctor from Denver City. Ada had assured Abby that she had delivered plenty of babies in her fifty years. And it was nice that she lived so close. Abby had met her a time or two in town, and Ada’s husband, Andy, had dropped by with a loaf of her friendship bread when Abby and James had first wed. She was a sweet woman, and at this moment, Abby hoped she was also a speedy woman.
She lay back against the pillow, fighting back the tears. She hadn’t realized it would hurt so badly. She tried to pray, but it seemed no words would form in her mind.
She felt like her insides were ripping, the pain and pressure increasing with each contraction. Where were James and Ada?
She felt the familiar blackness of fear beginning to creep at the edges of her mind. What if something was wrong? What if the baby was stuck? What if something happened to her child? All the fear that had been held at bay during the last few weeks of peace came flooding over her.
The pain tore at her, making her cry out. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, trying to think. She should pray…. She should quote some Scriptures…. “Jesus!” She screamed the name in prayer, unable to think of anything else.
Immediately the darkness vanished from her mind and calmness descended on her spirit. “Jesus,” she whispered. He was there. She could feel the presence of God with her, as strongly as if another human being stood next to her holding her hand. He was God and He loved her. He would not abandon her.
Another wave of pain pulled downward on her body. She gritted her teeth.
“ ‘The Lord is my light and my salvation. Whom … shall … I … fear …?’
“ ‘He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall … ab
ide … under the shadow … of the Almighty.’
“ ‘The Lord is … my … strength …’ ”
She opened her eyes to see James beside her, his strong voice repeating the words with her. He took her hands and held them tightly between his own. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispered.
She smiled at him as Ada moved the quilts to check her. “He heard me, James,” she whispered. “Jesus … He heard me.”
James smiled at her through his tears. “I told you He would,” he whispered.
“Well, Mrs. Parrish, I hardly think you needed me,” Ada boomed. “You done almost had this babe without me.”
Abby squeezed her eyes shut as the searing pain swept through again. “How much … longer?” she panted.
“Two or three more good pushes, honey. I can see ‘is head already.”
James gripped her hands tightly, his eyes never leaving her face. “You can do it, sweetheart,” he whispered.
“The Lord … is … my strength … aaagh!” She gave one final push, and it was over.
Seconds later, she felt the hot, wet body of her daughter lying on her abdomen.
“Hello, little one,” she said softly, reaching down to touch her with her fingertips. Her eyes filled with tears when she heard the baby’s first quavering wail. “Is she all right, James? Is she truly all right?”
He watched while Ada severed the cord. Then he tenderly wrapped the baby in the soft blanket that awaited. He laid the baby in Abby’s waiting arms. “See for yourself, love,” he whispered.
And she did see. A beautiful, perfect baby girl. “Thank You, God,” she breathed. “Thank You, thank You, thank You!”
She tore her eyes from the child to find James. He had moved across the room and was staring into the fire, his back to her. She frowned. Whatever was he doing way over there? She kissed the baby’s soft forehead, and then she knew.
“James, come here please,” she called softly. She watched him hesitate then turn to face her.
She studied his dear face as he came near. Oh, how she loved this man. He had married her, taken her in, provided for her, loved her—and what had she given in return? Was he so unsure of her feelings? Did he not know that she wanted him to be a father to her baby—their baby? Could she make him understand?
How she longed to tell him that she loved him—but that was not to be. She choked back the lump that arose in her throat. God, why did I make such a vow?
But if she wasn’t allowed to give him her heart, at least she could give him this gift. She caressed his face with her eyes as he knelt down by the bed. “James, we need to choose a name for our daughter.”
She watched as his eyes, focused on her face, filled with tears. He leaned over to place a tender kiss on her cheek then bent to kiss the baby’s face as well.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” Abby murmured.
James nodded, finally finding his voice. “Just like her mama,” he whispered.
“Well, it don’t look like you folks’ll be needin’ me anymore.” Ada’s loud voice made Abby jump. “I’ll come check up on y’all tomorrow.”
James jumped up to show the midwife out, and Abby turned her attention back to the baby. “Happy birthday, little one,” she whispered. She smiled up at James as he neared her side again. “She wants her papa to hold her.”
Chapter 7
Oh, Abby. What a beautiful baby!” Iris held the baby close, her face radiant. “God has truly blessed you!” Abby smiled. “It’s hard to believe she’s two weeks old already.”
“And I love her name! Anna Joy.” Iris kissed the baby’s cheek gently. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come earlier. I just wanted to make sure …”
“Oh, I’m glad you waited,” Abby assured her. She would never admit to Iris that every day she had feared a visit from her sister-in-law. Of course, she loved Iris dearly. But since James had informed her of a smallpox outbreak in town, Abby had feared that little Anna would come down with the dreaded disease.
Even now she cringed inwardly as Iris bent her face near the baby’s. What if she was carrying the disease? After all, people were in and out of her boardinghouse every day. She heaved an inward sigh of relief as Iris handed little Anna back to her. The baby gazed into her face, her blue eyes wide and innocent. Abby’s arms tightened around her little daughter, her heart overflowing. She was still almost brought to tears each time she considered that this little human being had been entrusted to her care—hers and James’s, that is. She glanced over to where he sat at the table, nursing a cup of tea. “Did you tell Iris that I have a new recipe for her to serve at the boardinghouse?” James grinned at his sister. “Have any guests you’d like to see leave early, sis?”
“What are you talking about, James?” Iris demanded. “Abby is a wonderful cook!”
“Oh, I agree, Iris.” He darted an amused glance at Abby. “She’s very frugal, too. After she made a rhubarb pie, she cooked up the leaves for greens.”
“Oh, no!” Iris gasped. “You didn’t!” Abby laughed. “I’m afraid so. I’m a city girl, remember?”
“Things are never dull around here anymore, that’s for sure.” James sauntered over to Abby, putting an arm around her shoulders. “God knew what he was doing when He sent me this lady.”
Iris chuckled. “I can see that. So—do I get a nephew next time?”
Abby gulped, heat rising to the surface of her cheeks. Iris couldn’t possibly know their situation. Undoubtedly James would be too embarrassed to tell his sister. “Well, I—”
“All in good time, sis. We don’t want to rush things when we’ve only just started to get to know little Anna.”
“Well, just don’t wait too long.” Iris jumped to her feet and smoothed down her skirt in one fluid motion. “Now, I’d best be gettin’ back to town. A family’s coming in from the Springs tonight.” With a quick hug for Abby and a peck on the cheek for James, she was gone.
Abby sank down into the chair with a sigh. “Sometimes just watching Iris makes me tired.”
James laughed aloud. “I know what you mean. She’s always been a fireball.” He crossed over to the cradle and leaned over to hear Anna’s soft breathing. “Think we’ll ever take her up on her suggestion?”
Abby wrinkled her forehead. What was he talking …? Oh! How could he so casually mention that subject when he knows that I’m bound by my vow to God? “I don’t—”
He lifted his head to look at her then, and the look in his eyes took her breath away. “I want us to be a real family, Abby,” he whispered.
“We are a real—”
“No, we aren’t.” He crossed over to her then, standing close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his skin. “I want you for my wife—in every sense of the word.”
She shivered as he ran his hands down her bare arms. Didn’t he know how badly she wanted that, too? She closed her eyes against the pleading in his. “Don’t you understand, James? I can’t!”
He pulled her into his arms almost roughly. “Abby, you’re my wife. I asked God for a wife and He sent you.”
She pushed her face into the strength of his chest. Confusion flowed through her. If God had truly sent her to James, then He expected her to be the best wife she could be. Certainly God expected one’s best. But then … She knew God also required obedience. And if she had made a vow to Him, she must not break it. Something terrible would surely happen to James or the baby.
The hopelessness of the dilemma swept over her. She was trapped. Trapped with a loving, desirable man who was her husband—and yet he wasn’t. “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted finally.
His arms tightened around her, and he held her close for a long minute. Then he pulled away enough to look in her eyes. “I promised you that I would always love you and care for you, Abby.”
She met his gaze miserably. “I know. And I’m thankful.”
His grip tightened slightly. “But that’s not enough for me.”
She felt a burning shame well up.
Was she taking advantage of him? Or was he saying that he now regretted marrying her since she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—meet his needs?
James watched the emotions play across her face and wondered at her thoughts. He was pretty sure by now that she felt at least a bit of love for him. Why couldn’t she take that final step and admit it? Oh, he knew full well of her vow. But he had assumed that, by now, she would have realized her flawed logic. He had thought that, perhaps after the baby was born … He heaved a great sigh and dropped his hands from her shoulders. “Guess I’ll tend to the chores.”
The evenings were turning chilly now, he thought vaguely as he trudged toward the barn. He glanced back at the house, watching through the lighted window as Abby knelt to pick up little Anna. A lump rose in his throat, and he turned his eyes back to the well-worn path. “God, surely You don’t require her to honor a vow that she made in ignorance,” he cried aloud.
Only the lonely cooing of the doves answered him in the still night air.
After several days of strained conversation between them, James longed to return to their easy camaraderie. Perhaps he had been too impatient. Maybe he had just pushed her too hard when she wasn’t ready. They could use a good laugh together, he decided. He pushed open the back door, surprised to find the house dark and cold. Why hadn’t she lit the lamps?
“Boy, I’m hungry for some greens tonight,” he joked as he removed his hat.
Abby barely spared him a glance, her face anguished as she rocked Anna in the dim light.
James felt his heart contract. “What’s wrong, Abby?” he whispered, coming to stand in front of her.
“I knew it. I just knew this would happen,” she moaned.
He wasn’t sure she was even aware of his presence. He stopped the monotonous motion of the rocker with his foot. “Abby!” he said, concern ringing in his voice. “What is it?”
She lifted her eyes to his, and his heart went cold. Father God, please help me, he prayed silently. He knelt down in front of her. “Abby. Tell me what’s wrong.”
She shook her head. “I knew it would happen. He doesn’t love me, James. You said He did, but He doesn’t.”
Bartered Bride Romance Collection Page 49