CHAPTER SIX
Goosebumps rifled down Delilah’s skin as she heard Esau say, “Our son.”
If she didn’t love him already, that would have been the point in which she did.
How she knew she was in love she couldn’t say. All she knew was that when she first saw Esau, she knew she wanted to spend every moment with him. It took all her willpower to stay the words from her mouth.
Her eyes drank in her preacher husband. In the confines of the small cabin, his presence dominated almost every corner. When he walked, the air seemed to part as if giving passage to a king. His clothes hugged the tall, lean figure in a way that both sheathed and emphasized the muscles underneath.
A large pop from the fireplace sounded. Perhaps the blood of her wanton mother hadn’t been completely destroyed. Delilah felt an eagerness and excitement for the coming night. Her whole life was spent in denying her mother’s blood so she would not be tempted into riotous living. Until Tom had come for Heather, she never expected to marry.
Now, she was a wife and mother.
Her mind brought up the young babe’s face. He was so adorable. Although her son—how easy it was to think of the child in that light—had cried for a long while, she understood he didn’t know her. It would take some time, but she was willing to wait and be patient. Soon, he would come to know her as his mother, and eventually there would be others to join him, a whole passel of children with Esau’s strong features and thick black hair.
“Do you have any suggestions for names?”
Those large, thin hands gently placed the child into the crib. She saw the way those tapered fingers lifted the covers and tucked them around the tiny body.
“I do,” she said shyly. “I like the name Boaz for a son.”
Esau glanced up at her, his dark eyes unreadable but intense. “Why Boaz?”
“Well, I’ve always wanted my own sort of Boaz. Now, if you’ll allow it, I’ll have one.”
“It’s not about me allowing it, Delilah. We’re going to make the decision together. I do like the name Boaz. For his second name, I’d like to call him Thorn.”
She frowned. “Why Thorn?”
A twinkle came into Esau’s eyes. “He’s been a thorn in my side since the first time I met him.”
A surprising laugh erupted from her throat. “Oh, Esau!”
He paused, staring at her as if surprised by something. He shook his head as if to rid it of cobwebs and the moment passed.
“Boaz Thorn Caldwell it is,” he said with finality.
“A fine name,” she agreed.
“Yes.”
He cleared his throat. “We have a lot to discuss so please, let’s sit here at the table.”
He held out the chair and she sat in it. His fingers brushed the top of her shoulders, and she caught her breath.
Sitting across from him, she smiled. “Where shall we start?”
Esau spread his fingers out. “I should begin with what I think is the most important thing and what will ease your mind considerably.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“I do not expect for us to share a bed.”
Delilah’s heart fell to her feet. With a quick dart around the room, she saw the empty bed on the other side of the wall. Her smile almost slipped, but she held it firm through sheer will.
“Pardon me?”
Esau clasped his hands together and steepled them under his chin. “I did not marry you because I wanted a wife. I wanted us to wed because I need a mother for… Boaz.”
“But…all men need wives,” Delilah said, unable to grasp that Esau was saying this. “The Bible says ‘The husband should fulfill his marital duty to his wife, and likewise the wife to her husband. The wife does not have authority over her own body but yields it to her husband. In the same way, the husband does not have authority over his own body but yields it to his wife.’ I am prepared to do my wifely duty, Esau. I hardly expected anything else.”
She’d heard those verses so often at the Society she could say them backwards and forwards.
The silence that settled over them was rife with tension. Delilah had spent her whole life trying not to become the same way her mother had been. A loose woman who, as Matron had told her, gave herself to men, not always for money, but for pleasure as well.
The reward of her restraint, of proving that she wasn’t like her mother or any of the other Magdalens was that she had a husband.
Now, her husband was telling her he had no desire for her.
Why had she spent all that time being obedient to the Society? An ache formed in the center of her chest, throbbing like an open wound. Matron’s words echoed in her mind, “You’ll live to regret this.”
“That’s very generous of you, Delilah,” Esau said, bringing her attention back to the matter at hand. “But I have to be frank: if it wasn’t for Boaz, I never had any intention on marrying.”
“Why not?” Her eyes roved over his handsome features again. It was a miracle the man was still a bachelor before they’d married by proxy.
Her question appeared to startle him, as if he expected she knew the answer already. “Well, for one thing, I have mixed blood. I’m part Indian and white.”
Delilah shook her head, not understanding. “I’m not sure I follow you.”
“Some women would take offense to being married to a half-breed savage.” The words ended on a fierce rasp with slight cynical twist of his lips before it disappeared.
“That is the most ridiculous thing! You’re not a half breed or a savage. The idea!”
Esau’s mouth opened and closed several times before he pulled at the skin where his prominent, bulging Adam’s apple was. “Are you just saying that?”
Delilah pursed her lips, confused. “Saying what?”
“You really believe that it doesn’t matter that I am of mixed blood.” Delilah was sure that Esau meant to state the phrase as a question, but it came out as a statement. Did he really think she cared about his race?
“No, it doesn’t. Not to me.”
Another stretch of silence happened between them in which Delilah was subjected to the most inscrutable but penetrating look Esau gave her. His eyes never left her. His brown-gold gaze traveled over her, revealing nothing of his inner thoughts. Despite that, she felt as if she were scorched by its intensity.
“You appear to be telling the truth. Tom thought your finding out that I was a half-breed would make you not want to marry me, so he said nothing.”
No wonder Tom seemed nervous when she asked about her soon-to-be husband’s appearance. Her husband didn’t have to know that she would have married him had he looked like a whale. Some part of her, when she heard of his kindness to Boaz, had already fallen in love with him without ever having seen his face.
“I have no reason to lie, Esau,” she answered.
“That may be,” he replied softly, so low she had to crane her ear towards him to catch the words. “That may be.”
Before she could say anything more, he went on. “The other reason is because I was called to be a minister in this territory. Before the child came into our lives, I used to spend much of my time going out to far flung ranches or farms to perform any services needed.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to build a church?”
“It would be, but I don’t believe that’s what the Lord wanted me to do. There are times I am called to perform my duties at a moment’s notice. A funeral, prayer, or anything needed. I wanted to be free without having a family to distract me.”
He shrugged. “All that has changed now.” He turned and stared at the place where Boaz slept. Delilah took the chance to study his profile. She already loved that part of him. Such strong features.
“Boaz is now our responsibility and we must care for him. He’s the one that is important, not us. His mother was taken in the cruelest fashion—”
“How? I have wondered, but Tom only told us that she was shot.”
A muscle leapt along his
jaw line and a hard expression tightened the corners of his eyes. Delilah almost drew away. There was a subtle change in the air about them. For a moment, she sensed a dangerous thing lurking under the calm façade of Esau.
What did it mean?
A moment later, his jawline ceased that rhythmic movement and the tightness vanished away from his eyes.
“I won’t talk about it now, but I will tell you at some point. Her son was given to us to care for and we will. There’s nothing about us that come into the picture.”
“But…,” she trailed off.
“Yes?” he prompted.
“What about brothers and sisters? Doesn’t our son deserve the opportunity to have brothers and sisters to play with? Isn’t it wrong to want him to be alone?”
***
Esau’s attempt to moisten his dry throat failed. Delilah’s words about being his wife in full reverberated in his mind. That wasn’t the reason he married her. He’d wanted a mother for Boaz.
He’d be a liar if he didn’t admit there was something alluring about her offer. A part of himself he’d denied for a long time flared to life. Delilah wasn’t what he expected in a wife. When she saw he was of mixed blood, she hadn’t batted an eye. Her condemnation of those who took issues with his mixed origins soothed him in an inexplicable way. Her obvious love for Boaz was apparent to even a blind man.
Esau shook his head. There was a lot about her he could like, not the least of which was her beauty.
A lesser man would have taken advantage of what she offered and not look back. Esau felt a stirring in his spirit that there was more to Delilah’s offer than he knew. He sensed it would be wrong to take from her at this time.
At this time.
Did that mean that at some point in the future, he would bring her to his bed? He shifted in his chair and tugged discreetly at the collar around his neck. No, he didn’t want to go down that route of thought.
“I can appreciate what you’re saying, Delilah; however, we don’t know each other.”
The smile she had on her face wavered. Hurt and something more stemmed from her eyes. Was it disappointment he saw within those brown depths?
“All right, Esau.”
“Let’s revisit the topic at some later time, Delilah,” Esau found himself saying. He clamped his mouth shut. Why had he said that? He didn’t want to encourage anything that may give her the understanding that he would change his mind.
Her smile brightened again, and his heart kicked against his ribcage. She really had the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. “All right, Esau.”
“Since we’ve gotten that out the way, let me tell you a little bit about what I do and what happens here.”
The next hour they spent in conversation. Although, not supported by a church organization or denomination, he went where he was led.
“In the last two years, I’ve been staying closer to home than ever before. People are starting to know who I am and have come to me for whatever they need. Not everyone is going to step foot into a church, Delilah. I’ve had all sorts come straight to this cabin and listen to me preach. Until the Lord tells me to build a church, this is my church.”
A crease appeared between her eyes. “But what about Boaz? Do you think it is safe for him to be exposed to people he doesn’t know?”
Esau tapped his finger on the table. “In truth, I hadn’t really thought about it. I’ve always opened myself up to those who need me, Delilah.”
“That’s commendable, Esau, but if you have a church, you can keep some sort of safety for your family.”
“You do have a point,” he conceded. What she said was right. As a bachelor he could handle himself well. Now, he had a wife and a child to think of. Could he put them in danger in the name of the Lord? Didn’t he have the obligation to put them first before his own needs?
“I believe you should do what you think. The Society is surrounded by a thirteen-foot wall and—”
“The Society?”
Her smile slipped from her face. “I guess I should tell you about my past, shouldn’t I?”
“No.” Esau leaned forward and clasped her hand into his. “You don’t have to tell me anything. It won’t have any effect on my thoughts of you.”
She stared down at their hands. “And what are your thoughts of me, Esau?”
“I think you’re a kind woman who took a great risk in being my bride.”
“Is that all?” Her eyes were still fixed on their clasped hands. “Nothing more?”
“Should there be more?”
After another moment, she lifted her eyes, a smile appearing on her lips. “No, of course not, but I do have a past.”
“There’s nothing in your past that would make me think of you in a bad way.”
“You don’t know that.”
Boaz cried out then, ending the conversation. Esau went over to his crib, for once, thankful for his son’s propensity to sleep for short periods of time. The atmosphere as they talked had subtlety changed. The fire crackling in the background, the howl of the wind, the snowflakes in a flurry outside all worked together to create an intimate atmosphere that Esau felt was too soon to experience.
Too soon to feel as if he’d known Delilah all his life.
“Do you need me to change his nappy?”
“No, I can do this,” Esau told her as he lay Boaz on the small table next to the crib. “I’ve had plenty of practice.”
Boaz rubbed sleepily at his eyes, yawning with his cherubic mouth. “Your name is Boaz, my son,” Esau told the child. “Boaz Thorn Caldwell.”
The child made talking noises, his dark thin eyebrows drawn together.
“You like that name?” Esau went on as if the boy were talking to him. “I’m glad you do.” He sent a glance in Delilah’s direction as she stood nearby, her brown eyes watching him. “Your mother came up with that name. I think it’s a fine one, don’t you?”
Boaz let out a gurgle of agreement. Esau laughed. “I do think he likes that name too, Delilah.”
She came forward and knelt beside him. Esau’s awareness of her increased. A faint, floral scent clung to her.
“Hello, Boaz.” She leaned forward, giving the baby her finger. The baby’s tiny hand wrapped around it.
“You have a strong grip, Boaz.”
The child looked quizzically at her for a moment, his mouth open in confusion. He looked back at Esau as if to ask who the woman was at his side.
“She’s your new mother, Boaz.”
Boaz glanced back at her, his marble dark eyes fixed on her intently.
Delilah smoothed a hand over his forehead. “I know he doesn’t understand but I look forward to the day when he does.”
Esau pulled his eyes away from the golden strands of Delilah’s hair. “I disagree. I think he understands perfectly well what you’ve said.”
Her eyes lifted. “Do you?”
He nodded at the babe. “He knew his mother was no longer with us. He cried for three days afterward. I was at my wits’ end during that time, but I knew he needed to grieve in his own way.”
“What happened to her? Who would shoot a woman with a child?”
Esau’s lips flattened and his eyes stared at an image that only he could see. A woman reaching out to him. “Monsters, Delilah,” he told her in a clipped tone. “Monsters. I will tell you about it some other time.”
It was difficult to think of what happened to Boaz’s mother. It brought memories to the forefront that he’d rather not think upon.
“You’re very evasive, Esau.”
The nappy changed, he picked up his son. “Am I?”
She stood with him. “Every time I ask a question you don’t want to answer, you either avoid it or evade it.”
Esau walked over to the ice box and pulled out another bottle of goat’s milk. “You don’t understand.”
“I’m trying to.”
“I know but—”
What could he tell her? That thinking about it would
bring back his nightmares and waking episodes? He didn’t want her to see him in that light.
“Esau—”
“Would you like to feed him?”
Boaz, spying the bottle in his father’s hand lunged for it. Only Esau’s quick thinking saved the babe from being upended. He tossed the bottle to Delilah who caught it deftly as he gripped his son by the waist.
The boy let loose an ear-splitting scream.
Esau winced. “You would think he was getting tortured the way he acts whenever he sees the bottle. Would you like to feed him, Delilah? Do you know how?”
Her eyes danced with pleasure, as if hearing the screams were a normal occurrence. “I don’t really, but I’m willing to learn, of course.”
He set her down in the chair by the table, giving her instructions as he lay the baby in her arms. He filled the oblong shape with the goat’s milk, and showed her how to add the teat to the end. He’d been solely responsible for his care and it was hard to let that go.
Yet, if he had to share the responsibility, Delilah was an ideal candidate. She laughed as Boaz, fascinated by her golden hair, reached out a chunky hand and grabbed at it.
“Are you going to make me bald, Boaz?” she asked playfully.
The child’s mouth opened around the teat of the bottle, his eyes fixated on her hair.
She rocked back and forth as she fed him. “I do wish we had a rocking chair, but no worries, my little one. I shall rock you.”
Esau stared at the sight of mother and child embracing. The image worked powerfully on his brain, searing it like a brand on cattle. Within his vision? Daydream? Nightmare? He saw himself surrounded by a passel of children with brown eyes and golden hair.
She gazed up at him, and he realized he’d been standing there staring off into space.
“What did you say?”
“I wish I had a rocking chair, but I don’t.”
“It’s all right. I’ll see about procuring a rocking chair for you.”
“Thank you, Esau. Thank you so much for everything.”
He turned away from the sight of gratitude and went over to the window. Why had he been given that picture of domestic bliss. That life wasn’t for him.
A Bride for Esau Page 7