His Wife for a While

by Donna Fasano

  This baby was everything she wanted. She had sacrificed so much to conceive this beloved child. She had even opened herself to Ben in a way that she'd promised herself she never would, all for the sake of having this baby.

  But what kind of mother would she make? she wondered. Would she be able to give this baby all it would need in life? Would she be able to make it on her own?

  She glanced into the mirror, her stark, pale face revealing the truth. The last question that passed through her mind was the one that really concerned her. And to be one hundred percent honest with herself, she had to admit that the real question was: Would she be able to make it without Ben?

  The love she felt for him nearly burst her heart at times. Life without him would be bleak and desolate. Life without him…

  She shoved the thought from her. She'd made a deal with Ben. She had promised that once she'd become pregnant, she would leave Reed's Orchard.

  Ben didn't love her. She knew that. Ben would never love her. She knew that too.

  Glancing down, she concentrated on where her palms pressed against her lower stomach. Ben would never love her, but she'd have a small piece of him, a piece of him that she would love and cherish forever. Surely, that would be enough. It would have to be.

  A baby was growing inside her. The idea expanded and intensified, and she let the glorious notion lift her up and carry her away until she was filled with happiness that was so big and so pure that it veiled all her doubts and fears.

  She could give her child all the love and care that she had never received. A huge smile took over her whole face. Yes, her dream would finally come true. She was going to have a baby.

  The early June morning was chilly and Chelsea tugged on a sweater before she started through the orchard on her way to work. The wooly gray clouds hanging heavy in the sky did nothing to diminish the lighthearted gaiety that quickened her step.

  She couldn't wait to tell Ben the news.

  That thought made her step falter and she stopped. Her successful conception meant that there would be no more nights spent in Ben's passionate embrace. No more kisses that turned her blood hot with molten desire.

  Crossing her arms over her chest, she contemplatively rubbed her hands up and down her upper arms. Her heart felt as tender and vulnerable as the tiny, newly forming fruit on the trees around her.

  She tilted up her chin with determination. She'd known the course her marriage would take from the beginning of her deal with Ben. She had known this time would come.

  Granted, she hadn't anticipated that she would fall in love with Ben, but her feelings for him didn't change the terms of their agreement.

  She would tell him right away, this morning if she could find him. And then they could work out the best time for her to gather her things and leave Reed's Orchard.

  Rounding the building, Chelsea pushed her way through the door as she'd done hundreds of times before. Emotions were churning with such a strong mixture of bliss and sadness that she was afraid the turmoil would prove too much.

  As she passed the side entrance to the store she heard May's voice.

  "Chelsea?" May called.

  Chelsea turned and went into the shop.

  "Good morning, May," she said, hearing the shakiness of her voice.

  "My till is empty."

  Chelsea slipped off her sweater. "I just arrived. I'll get your change from the safe right now."

  "What's wrong?" May asked.

  "Wrong?" She shook her head. "Nothing's wrong. I'm..." Hesitating only the barest moment, she pressed her lips together in an attempt to contain her elation and failed. "I'm pregnant."

  The two words bubbled out of her and she smiled.

  "Why, Chelsea, that's wonderful." May came from behind the checkout counter and threw her arms around Chelsea. But after a quick hug she pulled back, her wrinkled face suddenly crestfallen. "But that means you'll be leaving us soon."

  A knot formed in Chelsea's throat and she only nodded.

  "But I was only just getting to know you," May said. "Maybe you could stay on a while. Just until the baby's born? I'd love to see the little tyke. And I know Ben would, too."

  When Chelsea shook her head, she knew the action was more terse than she'd meant for it to be. But it was difficult to manage her body language and fight for control of her inner emotions at the same time.

  "I'm afraid not," she said. "It wouldn't be a good idea."

  "But you and Ben have gotten along so well. Maybe…"

  "No, May." Her tone was emphatic now. "I can't stay. A clean break would be best."

  Her heart broke when she saw the hurt look that crossed May's face. Her words hadn't been meant to injure May, only to create some distance between them.

  Purposefully withdrawing from this woman whom she'd come to love made Chelsea feel lousy, but it was time for her to leave Reed's Orchard behind. She had to protect herself from as much hurt as she possibly could. Retreating emotionally now was the best thing for both of them. She had to look away from May's dispirited gaze.

  "Does Ben know?"

  Shaking her head negatively, Chelsea said, "He left the house early, to get as much outside work completed as possible. The weather report called for rain. Do you know where I can find him? I'd like to tell him."

  "I'm not sure where he is," May said. "I was thinking I'd better call him. I heard reports of hail."

  "Hail."

  The word sent fear racing through her. Hail was a nightmare for fruit growers. Hailstorms and the wind that came with them could wreak irreparable damage on the delicate fruit crop. An abrupt hailstorm could also spell danger to the workers who had the misfortune to be caught in one.

  "Ben should know," Chelsea said, her voice raising a little with sudden tension. "Did you try to reach him on the two-way?"

  May refused to carry a cell phone, grousing that she prized her privacy too much to give every Tom, Dick and Harry the chance to shatter her peace and quiet with a phone call. Chelsea and Ben both had tried to explain the convenience of voice mail, e-mail and text messaging, but May would have none of it. So they kept the ancient two-way radio in the shop and Ben was forced to carry around the receiver which was usually stuck on top of the dashboard of his truck.

  "I tried, but there was nothing but static."

  "I'll call and then send him a text. If he doesn't answer either, I'll go look for him."

  "But Chelsea," May said, "it isn't safe for you to be driving around. You should just stay here. The sky is getting darker every second. Even if the weather doesn't bring hail, it looks as if it will at least pour cats and dogs."

  That was when the first rumblings of thunder shattered the silence of the sky.

  "Maybe he'll answer his phone," Chelsea told her. And when he didn't, she left a message and then thumbed in a quick text. "He needs to know about the hail report."

  "So he can do what?"

  "I don't know, May," she said, sliding her cell phone into the pocket of her jeans. "Ben and the others could be hurt if they don't know to take shelter."

  She pressed send and then hurried to the door. "I'm not going to wait to see if he texts back. You keep trying to reach him by radio."

  "I will," May assured her. "You be careful."

  Chelsea hurried to Ben's office and grabbed the keys to one of the orchard pickup trucks. She burst through the door and out into the parking lot.

  The sky turned ominously dark, the thunderclouds gathering with terrifying speed. The breeze that had been so delightful during her walk to work was now strengthening, whipping at her hair as she made her way to the pickup. The engine turned over and Chelsea pulled onto the narrow country road.

  A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky and Chelsea jumped. The growing fear that Ben might be caught out in this precarious weather made it hard for her to decide where to go in search of him. The small screen on her cell remained annoyingly empty. Finally, she decided to try to get in front of the storm.

  Dri
ving a little faster than what she would consider safe, she scanned the rows of trees in one orchard after another for some sight of Ben and the men.

  Damn it! If she hadn't allowed herself to fall in love Ben, her heart wouldn't be racing in her chest right now, panic wouldn't be clogging her throat and making it hard for her to breathe. Where was he?

  She searched two more groves before she saw several dark green trucks just like the one she was driving. Pulling onto the dirt track that led through the orchard, she felt a tremendous relief when she saw a group of men coming over the ridge.

  The rear end of the truck skidded a bit as she came to a stop. She opened the door and glanced over her shoulder to see the storm was quickly approaching. In fact, several fat raindrops hit the windshield.

  "Where's Ben?" she called to the men.

  They gestured behind them and continued on their way to the parked trucks.

  "I'm here, Chels," Ben said. "What are you doing out in this weather?"

  "I've been looking for you." She was surprised by the breathlessness of her voice. "I wanted to tell you about the storm."

  His mouth split into a grin as he remarked, "You don't think I have enough sense to get in out of the rain?"

  She wanted so badly to throw her arms around him, kiss him and tell him she was happy he was safe. But she didn't.

  "May heard reports of hail," she told him.

  He shouted orders at the men, then reached into his pocket and tossed his keys to one of them. The work crew broke up, got into the vehicles and drove away. Ben took Chelsea by the arm and guided her toward her truck.

  "You shouldn't have come out."

  She was jolted by the sudden edge his voice.

  "But I called you," she tried to explain. "Left a message. Sent a text. May even tried to reach you on the two-way."

  Without thought, his free hand went to the cell phone that was hooked to his belt.

  "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't hear a thing."

  They got into the cab of the truck and Ben started the engine.

  "But you still shouldn't have come out," he said. "You could have had an accident on the wet roads. Anything could have happened."

  "But…"

  "I'll take you back to the office. And I want you to stay there."

  "You won't be staying?" she asked.

  "I can't, Chels." His eyes were glued to the road ahead of them. "I have to go see what's going on."

  "Then, let me go with you," Chelsea pleaded.

  "No. It's best if you go back to the store," he said. "Or home."

  "I want to go," she said, putting a stubborn edge on the words. "I want to be there for you if..." She let the words fade, unwilling to speak the possibilities.

  He didn't answer, he simply drove on in silence. Chelsea didn't know if he was planning on taking her back to the office or not.

  When he reached the intersection and didn't turn toward the office, she knew she'd be going with him. An astounding sense of relief flooded her.

  Ben drove toward the storm front, and the first gust of wind that hit the truck made Chelsea gasp. She clutched her hands together in her lap and watched the sky turn black as they drove into the dense curtain of rain.

  The silence was a heavy shroud in the cab of the pickup. Ben concentrated on driving in the blinding torrent; Chelsea fought back her fear of what damage the weather might inflict on the orchard.

  Chelsea turned her gaze on Ben and she saw him lean forward and snatch up the radio receiver from the dashboard.

  "Aunt May, this is Ben," he said after pushing the transmitter button. "Are you there? Can you hear me?"

  He repeated the call and May's voice sounded faint in the midst of the static.

  "I'm here, Ben," May said.

  "Did the men get back?"

  "Everyone came in and I sent them on home for the rest of the morning," she said. "Is Chelsea with you?"

  "She's here," Ben said.

  "You two should…"

  May's voice was broken up by a loud crackling and a bolt of lightning zigzagged across the sky.

  "We'll be in soon," Ben assured her, raising his voice in the hopes that his aunt would hear.

  "…hail southeast of town…"

  The rest of what May had said was drowned in a sea of static. Ben and Chelsea looked at one another.

  "The peaches."

  Ben's tone was strained, and the anxiety in the pit of Chelsea's stomach churned sickeningly.

  He switched off the receiver and immediately turned the truck in a southeasterly direction.

  In less than ten minutes he was turning onto the dirt track that led back to the peach orchard. Hail had begun to strike the roof of the truck with tiny pings.

  Chelsea hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until her cerebral impulses forced her to suck in air. She exhaled and fear shimmied up her spine.

  "How bad is it?" She couldn't help but ask Ben, even though she knew very well that the two of them were looking out the same windshield, seeing the same slight incline that hid the orchard from view.

  Ben shifted into a lower gear. And as the truck slowly climbed the hill, Chelsea could tell the hailstones were growing larger. It was as though rocks were being thrown at the roof and windshield of the truck. Every thump and ping made her want to flinch.

  "Oh, hell," he murmured as he pushed his foot against the brake pedal and brought the truck to a stop.

  The wind whipped the trees as the hail pummeled the young fruit relentlessly, viciously. Broken branches flew across their view like tumbleweed. Ben and Chelsea could only sit there and helplessly watch the stones of ice destroy the peach crop.

  The weather worsened. The sound of the hail hitting the cab became deafening. One stone the size of a large nut crashed down on the truck, denting its hood.

  "Let's get out of here," Ben said, his voice gravelly with stress.

  He executed a three-point turn and steered the truck back toward the paved road.

  Chelsea felt trapped by the silence that lay between them. She knew he was hurting, she knew he was worried sick, but she didn't know how to make things better. She couldn't seem to find the words that would make this bleak situation any brighter.

  A thought flashed through her mind: her baby. Automatically, her hand went to her lower tummy. A part of the man she loved was inside her, growing, developing with every passing moment. The very idea brought her a tremendous peace, a peace she only wished she could share with Ben.

  But she couldn't possibly tell him about her pregnancy now. He certainly didn't feel the way she did about the baby. No, she couldn't burden him with her good news when he was experiencing such a crisis.

  Ben pulled into his driveway, switched off the engine and simply sat there. The rain had subsided to a steady pattering and the wind tapered off to intermittent gusts.

  "I'm sorry," Chelsea finally said.

  Although her apology would do him no good, she was awed by the amount of emotion her words held. This man had succeeded in stirring her feelings as no one had in many years.

  Ben rested his elbow on the curve of the steering wheel, his chin cupped in his palm.

  "Damn it, Chelsea. I wanted to succeed."

  "But Ben," she said, "you can't be responsible for the weather."

  He didn't seem to hear. Or maybe he did, and he chose to ignore the simple truth.

  "We needed the rain," he commented. "But the hail..." He scrubbed his forehead with his fingertips. "The hail was a killer."

  She turned and rested her back against the passenger door so she was facing him.

  "It's too bad there's no insurance." It wasn't a question. She paid the bills and knew she'd never written a single check to cover an insurance premium.

  "Insurance is exorbitant. Trying to insure everything would eat into profits too deeply," Ben said. "The buildings and equipment are covered, and that's all we can afford. If I secured the crops, I'd never be able to improve the business. New equipment or a
creage. Hell, some months we probably wouldn't eat after paying those premiums."

  He chuckled ironically. "Granddad felt that farmers are gamblers by nature. I always knew what he meant. But now that he's not here to chuck me softly on the chin and assure me that everything's going to be all right, I not only know what he meant, I feel it. Down to the bone. Hell, I'm living it. And it isn't very pleasant."

  "Well, maybe the damage won't be as bad as it looked."

  He made a disgusted sound. "Come on, Chels. You saw the same thing I did."

  She gazed out the windshield at the apple trees that lined the land in back of the house. She had seen the devastation; she knew it was most probably worse than what it had looked. There were acres and acres of peach trees in that particular grove. The hailstorm had most likely destroyed most if not all of the peach crop.

  Although it wasn't like her, she couldn't bring herself to be negative. Not now. Ben was low enough as it was.

  "But you really won't know for sure," she said, "until you go back and check it out."

  "And I will," he answered. "Later."

  He reached over and covered her hand with his.

  "I want to thank you for going with me. It meant a lot that I didn't have to sit there and watch that by myself."

  They sat there, motionless, his hand on hers. He searched her face and then turned his gaze to the scenery beyond the window.

  Chelsea focused on his face; the green of his eyes deepened with anguish; his strong jaw, set and stiff, his mouth taut with the dismay that obviously plagued his mind. She wished she could ease his apprehension, wished she could alleviate his trouble.

  The love she felt for him welled inside her until she was frightened her feelings might spill over. His fingers curled around into her palm and she held them tightly. He made a tiny arc on the back of her hand with his thumb.

  Closing her eyes, she pressed her free hand over the spot where their baby snuggled and thought about the three of them here together. Even in the midst of this catastrophe, a tiny flame of happiness flickered. With Ben holding her hand and her baby cuddled securely inside her, she somehow felt they were, for that moment, connected. She might never have another chance to feel this way.