Her Silent Burden (Seeing Ranch series) (A Western Historical Romance Book)

by Florence Linnington

  Thea’s heart jumped, and she looked to Wakefield. “I am ready.”

  Wakefield nodded solemnly. “I am, as well.”

  “Wonderful. Let’s stand over here. Will this be the traditional vows?”

  “Um...” Thea again glanced at Wakefield.

  “Yes,” Wakefield answered. “We haven’t had time to write any of our own.”

  “Very well. That will make this easy then, as you can simply repeat after me.”

  They stood where Reverend Pullman instructed them to, at the front of the rows of logs, while Noah looked on. Wakefield took Thea’s tiny hand in his, and the reverend began.

  Word for word, Thea repeated what she was told to. The whole time, her head spun. She was marrying Wakefield! This man she barely knew. And yet the whole thing could not feel more right.

  When her soon-to-be husband pulled a ring from his pocket, she gasped in surprise.

  “What?” Wakefield cocked an eyebrow. “Did you think I’d let you go without a ring?”

  Thea felt herself blush. “I didn’t give it much thought.”

  Onto her finger, he slipped the silver band with a pearl.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife,” Reverend Pullman said.

  Noah’s exuberant clapping filled the clearing. Thea slowly looked up at Wakefield, her left hand still in his hold. Would he kiss her now? That was customary, of course. And, goodness, she wanted to kiss him. She’d wanted that since she’d first laid eyes on him in front of his saloon.

  It was sharing their first kiss in front of others that she wasn’t so sure about. There was no more time to think about it, though. Wakefield was closing the space between them. He lightly pressed his lips to hers, his touch instantly intoxicating.

  Thea leaned forward onto her toes, wanting more, but he had already drawn back. The longing in his face, however, could not be missed. She understood that she would be receiving a much more passionate kiss later, once they were alone. She looked forward to it.

  “Man and wife,” Noah crowed. He clapped Wakefield on the back, and the two of them shook hands.

  “Thank you, Reverend,” Wakefield said. “Please come and have Sunday dinner with us.”

  The reverend smiled. “You are welcome, and I would love to accept your invitation, but I will have to do so another day. If I wish to get home before nightfall, I best take my leave now.”

  They all said their goodbyes, and the reverend took off across the clearing.

  “When is the reception?” Noah asked.

  Thea laughed out loud at the thought, but Wakefield’s face remained serious.

  “Tonight,” he answered.

  She cocked her head. “Tonight?”

  “At the saloon.”

  Wakefield wrapped his arm around her waist, and her insides seemed to melt. Allowing herself an unchecked moment, she leaned against his chest. His arms formed a protective barrier between her and the rest of the world. What he’d said the other night about taking care of her felt truer than ever before.

  Thea’s new husband kissed the top of her head, and she sighed in pleasure.

  “Well, then,” Noah said, “I’ll, uh, go see what I can...”

  “You do that,” Wakefield said.

  Noah took off for the saloon, and Wakefield turned Thea to face him, his arms loosely on her hips.

  “I’m going to do everything I can to make you happy,” he said. “I promise you that.”

  Thea felt as if a flower that had spent her whole life as a bud in her soul suddenly bloomed. She was coming alive.

  And she got to do it with the man God had intended for her.

  Chapter 12

  words never needed to be loud

  12. Wakefield

  Chapter twelve

  The fiddler picked up the pace, and everyone on the dance floor followed suit. Skirts swirled, and boots stomped. Night had fallen a good hour ago, and still, the party continued on.

  Noah and Wakefield had pushed all the chairs and tables to the sides of the room. Wakefield hadn’t known this, but the news of the wedding had gotten out, and the people of Whiteridge were thrilled to have something to celebrate.

  Esme, Daniel Zimmerman’s housekeeper and cook, had whipped up half a dozen dishes. The other women as well, such as Jenny Mullins and Rosaline Ipsen, had brought pies and different kinds of bread. Noah had put the pit out back to good use and smoked the pig that Daniel had contributed.

  All in all, the barely-there town had come together in a way that had surprised and touched Wakefield. He spent so much time dealing with ornery miners that he often forgot about who people were when they weren’t toiling away.

  He had some dang good neighbors. He saw that now and wouldn’t be quick to forget it.

  “Punch?” Chandler Mullins asked. He extended a glass.

  “Spiked?” Wakefield asked.

  “Is there any other way?”

  “No, thank you,” Wakefield answered. He turned his attention back to the floor, looking for his bride. Out of anyone there, she seemed to have the most energy. Wakefield had needed to quit dancing after five songs, but Thea kept going, dancing first with Noah and then Daniel, who had a hard time of it thanks to his bad knee, but went at it regardless. A bit of jealousy had stirred in Wakefield at the sight of her with other men, but he had already claimed Thea. She would be his till the end of time.

  “She’s lovely,” Chandler commented.

  Wakefield felt his chest swell with pride. “I got lucky.”

  Across the floor, Thea caught his eye as the upbeat song ended. Wakefield moved to her as if pushed by an invisible hand. They met halfway across the saloon, her glowing face turned upward. The slightest hint of perspiration shone along her forehead, and her eyes were wide and still dancing.

  “There you are,” she said.

  “I’ve never been far,” Wakefield answered. “I’ve been watching you all this time.”

  They’d barely had a minute alone since exchanging their vows. The light celebration that Wakefield had barely put any planning toward had become its own beast and taken over the whole day. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been at such a celebration.

  “It’s hot in here,” she said, fanning her face.

  Wakefield seized her hand. “Let’s go outside for a minute.”

  He led her around the clumps of people, her pulse humming against his hand. Outside, he continued to the far side of the saloon’s porch, away from the windows.

  Stopping at a post, Wakefield turned and looked down at Thea. With her face bathed in moonlight, she looked like a sprite or a fairy, some kind of beautiful being who couldn’t possibly be real.

  “Well,” he said. “What do you think?”

  “I didn’t expect this party.”

  “Neither did I,” he chuckled.

  Thea rested her hand against the post and looked into the darkness. “It is nice, though.”

  “And, so far, what do you think of being married to me?”

  She giggled. “It has not even been a day yet.”

  “I know, but—”

  “So far, I like it.” She took a small, tentative step toward him, her eyes raking across his face in order to gauge his reaction.

  A hungry growl rumbled through Wakefield’s chest. “I’m sorry about that kiss earlier.”

  Thea’s eyebrows pinched together. “What do you mean?”

  “It was pretty… chaste.”

  “Oh.” Her lips parted, and her breathing picked up. “There were other people there.”

  “We’re alone now.”

  She dramatically looked around the area. “Yes. We are, aren’t we?”

  “Can I kiss you again?”

  “Do you need to ask?” Thea whispered back.

  Wakefield couldn’t wait another second. Resting his hand on Thea’s waist, he dipped down and seized her lips. They were warm. Smooth. And all his.

  Sweeping his mouth lightly across the length of hers, he drew back and
looked down at her, wanting to see the look on her face after he kissed her. Her eyes had widened, and she traced her bottom lip with the tip of her tongue.

  “Oh,” she gasped, the word so soft he barely heard it.

  Wakefield smirked and ran his fingers lightly across her waist before pulling back completely. There was nothing he wanted more than to stay on that porch and kiss her all night long, but someone could come out at any moment.

  No matter. They had the rest of their lives to steal kisses.

  Thea daintily cleared her throat. “Um, what were… what were we saying?”

  “Shook up?” Wakefield teased.

  She gave him a saucy look. “We should get back inside, no? Before everyone wonders where we are?”

  “You go ahead,” he said gently. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Wakefield leaned against the post and watched as she went back into the saloon. Left alone, he turned around and gazed up at the moon. It was a beautiful night; had been a beautiful day.

  Hopefully, he had the rest of a beautiful life on its way.

  “Thank you,” Wakefield whispered, knowing his words never needed to be loud. God heard him no matter what.

  Chapter 13

  sighing in relief

  13. Thea

  Chapter thirteen

  Thea stood up from the garden’s row and wiped the sweat from her brow. That was it. She’d pulled the last weed. It was an amazing accomplishment by any standards. How many gardens in the world were completely weed free?

  Luckily for Thea, she’d had the time that week to go over her new garden with a fine-tooth comb. There was not a weed left. Perhaps another one would spring up tomorrow, but she would be there to take care of it immediately.

  Or perhaps it was really an unlucky situation. Thea only had so much time to tend to her garden because there was nothing else to do. After the excitement of the wedding day and a blissful Monday morning where Wakefield put off going to the saloon for three extra hours, a new rhythm had entered Thea’s life.

  Every morning, Wakefield went to the saloon early and came back at supper. At noon, he walked home to share a quick lunch with her before going back to work. The whole week had passed in such a manner, with the exception of Sunday, when the saloon was closed.

  Now, finding herself on another Monday, looking at another week of the same, Thea felt empty. At first, she’d loved the woods that surrounded her new cabin. Today she saw them in a new way. They shut her off from the rest of the world—a world brimming with opportunity and joy.

  Picking up her gardening tools, Thea went into the house and filled the wash basin. She rolled her sleeves up far as they would go and splashed water on her face and arms. Taking the hard bar of soap, she worked it into a lather and washed every inch of exposed skin, making sure to get behind her ears and under her fingernails.

  Washing the soap off, she unbraided her hair and combed it with her fingers, then braided it again and pinned it into a circle at the nape of her neck.

  Then she just stood there.

  Somehow, the cabin was even quieter than it had been a few minutes before. The silence had come alive. A hungry beast, it reached out for Thea, ready to devour her whole.

  Suppressing a yelp, she grabbed her sunbonnet from its hook by the door and rushed outside.

  “I can’t do this anymore,” she said under her breath.

  Wakefield had told her he didn’t want her exploring the area on her own, but a little walk up the road couldn’t hurt. As far as Thea could tell, the area right around the town was generally a safe one. She’d heard wolves a few times at night, but their howls were at least a couple miles away, and always fading, meaning the animals only moved through the area but never stayed.

  Maybe it wasn’t safety on his mind. Maybe Thea’s new husband was jealous. She’d noted the way he glowered at any man who looked her way for longer than a couple seconds. Even at service on Sunday, he’d had an air of possessiveness about him.

  Thea laughed out loud. As if she were going to run away with some random miner. She knew how lucky she was to have ended up with Wakefield. Out of all the men in the country looking for mail-order brides, she’d found herself with one who was dependable, handsome, hard-working, and loving. They were only a week into their marriage, and it was already better than Thea could have ever dreamed it would be.

  At the main road, Thea stopped walking and considered her options. If she went down the mountain, she would find herself at the saloon. Up the mountain, in a direction she had not yet gone, were more homes. More people.

  Up it was. She would explore for a few minutes, she decided, and then promptly return home.

  The road was rocky, and some parts so steep she had to lean forward as she walked. Sweat collected on her brow and trickled beneath her dress. Wyoming might not have had the South’s humidity, but it was not lacking in the heat department.

  “Hello!” a high-pitched voice called.

  Thea stopped walking and looked up. She’d been busy watching her footing in a particularly rocky area and hadn’t noticed that she was passing a home.

  It was a log cabin very much like Wakefield’s, with stumps in the front yard where trees had been cleared. The greeting had come from a little boy who stood on one of the stumps.

  He had his hands in the pockets of his overalls, and wispy locks of brown hair spilled out from under his straw hat.

  “Hello,” Thea answered. “How are you young man?”

  “I’m Peter,” he answered.

  Thea tried not to laugh. It seemed he had heard her wrong. The little boy looked familiar. Had she seen him about town? At Sunday’s service, perhaps?

  “And I’m five,” he went on.

  “Nice to meet you Peter,” Thea answered. “I’m Mrs. Briggs.”

  It was the first time she’d introduced herself using her new name, and it gave her a little thrill.

  “Peter!” a woman’s voice called from behind him. “I need that kindling!”

  “Uh-oh,” Peter said to Thea, “I forgot. I’m s’possed to be getting kindling for Ma.”

  Thea smiled. “Forgetting happens.”

  A woman with dark red hair appeared in the doorway of the house, and Thea remembered where she’d seen Peter before. He was at the clearing the other Sunday, Thea and Wakefield’s wedding day.

  “Hello,” the woman said, approaching from across the yard. She wiped her hands on her apron and cocked her head to the side, a smile forming. “You’re Mr. Briggs’ new wife.”

  “Yes, that’s me. Theodora Briggs. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to distract your son from—”

  She waved her hand before extending it for a shake. “That’s all right. Jenny Mullins. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Thea shook Jenny’s hand as a second child appeared in the doorway—the little girl who had also been at the service.

  “That’s Farrow,” Peter said. “She’s four. So she’s a whole year and two months younger than me.”

  “I heard you had quite the wedding reception,” Jenny Mullins said. “I wish we could have made it. Farrow was down with a bad stomachache, though.”

  “It was lovely,” Thea answered. “I am sorry you missed it.”

  Thea waved at Farrow, who turned and ran back into the house.

  “She’s shy,” Peter explained.

  “Peter,” Jenny said, “Go and get that kindling. We have a guest, and I’ll need to warm water for tea.”

  “Oh,” Thea gasped. “No, I didn’t mean to intrude. Please excuse me. I was only taking a walk—”

  “You have somewhere to be?” Jenny asked.

  “No,” Thea admitted. There was always something to be done at home, but at that moment nothing pressing presented itself. And she still had another hour or two before she needed to get supper ready.

  “Well, then. Come on in.” Jenny turned and walked toward the house, not waiting for a response.

  Thea followed at a clipped pace, finding hers
elf in a cabin not that different from her own home. A cook stove sat against the far wall, and near it a table. It was a one-room cabin, and a sheet hung over the far end of the room, hiding what Thea assumed was the sleeping area.