Prairie Romance Collection

by Cathy Marie Hake

  His fist hammered a single, livid blow on the desktop. “The night Mrs. Axelrod went to help Mrs. Brown. They are casting aspersions about you and me being alone here.”

  Lena felt heat fill her cheeks. “This is silly. I will tell them I only feed Talitha. You and I—we never…”

  “They won’t listen to reason. They’ve publicly questioned our morals, and half the town is gossiping about how I bought you a robe. A stupid robe!”

  “I am sorry. I do not want them to take Talitha from you.” She stood. “I will pack and leave right away.”

  He wearily rubbed his hand down his face a single time. “Sit down, Lena.” She complied, and he continued on in a haggard voice, “I don’t have much choice. I went to town and talked to Judge Perkins. He said they have grounds for action, and I have call to be concerned. According to him, the only way to solve this is for us to marry.” He looked at her and added somberly, “So I’m begging, Lena. Marry me.”

  His proposal stunned her. Lena couldn’t form any coherent words. She silently shook her head.

  He came around and towered over her. “I lost my wife. I can’t bear to lose my daughter, too. I won’t pretend, Lena. I don’t love you. I never will. My heart is buried out there with Jane. I won’t even lie when we have the judge hitch us. I’ll vow to honor and protect and provide for you. You just tell me what you want.” His hands fisted. “I’ll do whatever you want, buy you anything your heart desires— but you have to marry me so I can keep my baby girl.”

  Lena’s heart twisted. She wet her lips, but before she could utter a word, he blurted, “If you’re worrying about your son, you have my word that I’ll treat Johnny like my own. When he’s a man, he’ll get a full share of the ranch just like our other sons. I’ll hire a sharecropper if you want to keep the farm going so he can have his father’s legacy, too.”

  The distress on her features cut him to the core. Desperation made him push harder. “Lena, you’ve been good to Talitha. I know you love her. You do, don’t you?” He already knew the answer, but she was honest enough to bob her head in confirmation. “This way, she’ll be your daughter, too. You won’t ever lose her, either. This way, we can both keep her.”

  The mantel clock struck the hour. Silence hovered heavily in the room. “I will have to pray about this.”

  “Pray? Woman, you won’t ever be safe living alone. Men will think you’re my cast-off mistress. For your sake, and your son’s, you don’t have any more choice than I do.”

  Lena slowly rose. Her knees shook so badly, they barely held her up. “I will pray and give you an answer later.”

  She went to her bedchamber and prayed earnestly. As a clock struck eleven that night, she found Steven out on the veranda. Her voice was subdued as she quietly said, “I will marry you. Thank you for promising to be good to my son.”

  “You don’t have any reason to thank me, Lena. I should have been on my knees, thanking you every day for saving my daughter’s life and helping me keep her. Whatever I do for you, it’ll never repay you for that. I’ll send for Judge Perkins. We’ll get married tomorrow.” He turned away, went down the steps, and disappeared into the night.

  Lena stood there and listened as the sound of his boots on the stairs grew quieter. Doing God’s will had never been harder. Over the weeks, she hadn’t just fallen in love with Talitha—she’d also come to care very deeply for Steven. The terrible truth was, tomorrow she’d pledge her hand to a man who could never love her back.

  The next afternoon, Steven stood in the doorway and watched Lena stab one lastpin into her freshly combed hair.

  “That dress looks nice on you,” he said in a gravelly voice.

  She whirled around in surprise then recovered. “A dress so beautiful would make a pig look like a princess.”

  He continued to stare at her. She wore one of the ordinary, two-buck dresses he’d bought that had gotten them into this fix. It was plain as could be, yet she acted as if a modiste in New York custom-made it for her. She looked like it, too. It wasn’t the gown—it was the woman inside it. For the first time, instead of looking common, she looked elegant and refined. His wealth would provide every comfort for her—yet he knew full well she’d been content living in her soddy with Lars. Because Lars loved her. Steven knew then that she’d been much better off back then. This was different. Steven asked everything of her, and she’d consented. He did it for Talitha, but he wasn’t proud of himself. Lena was a beautiful, warmhearted woman. She deserved a husband who would love her. Still, she’d accepted his deal, and he was going to hurry her through the ceremony before she changed her mind. “If you’re ready, let’s go.”

  Instead of coming directly to him, Lena went to the cradle and lifted Johnny into her arms. “We’re ready.”

  Pale and composed, she stood beside him in the parlor. Steven had summoned the judge to the house instead of standing in the church before Preacher Durley. There were no friends or flowers. He wanted no reminders of what things had been like when he and Jane pledged their everlasting love. Instead of holding his hands for the ceremony, Lena held her son. It was just as well. Mrs. Axelrod stood off to the side and held Talitha. His daughter’s nearness gave him strength to get through this sham.

  When it came time, Lena took the traditional wifely vows to love and obey. Her voice shook, but she said them. He, on the other hand, had spoken with Judge Perkins and arranged for substitute words. Lena’s arms tightened around Johnny’s little body, and her gaze dropped as Steven vowed only to provide and protect. Once again, he knew he was cheating her, and he silently promised he’d provide her with all he could to make up for it. When she looked back up at him, her beautiful eyes swam with tears.

  The judge sensed he’d best not push his luck and suggest a kiss to seal the deal. Instead, he cleared his throat. “Well, that’s that. For what it’s worth, I think what you did was right. Those youngsters need two parents. I’ll stop off on the way home and make sure Jane’s folks know Talitha isn’t up for grabs anymore.”

  Winter was mild. Steven spent most of his time outdoors. When he came in, he made every effort to be cordial to Lena. She saw to the children lovingly, and he found his only happiness in their presence. Johnny crawled about and began to walk by Christmas. Tucked in the corner of the sofa with the support of pillows orheld in Lena’s arms, Talitha cooed at Johnny’s antics. When Steven shucked off his boots and Johnny tried to put them on, he laughed for the first time since Jane died.

  Johnny weaned himself and took great glee in spilling his cup down the front of himself. Talitha still nursed, but she’d grown big enough to wake Lena only once or twice a night. Claiming she was well rested, Lena took over more of the household chores.

  Out of deference for Lena’s feelings, Steven took the tintype of his beloved Jane off the dresser in their bedchamber and put it on a shelf in his den. He couldn’t bring himself to hide it away. He walked a tightrope between remembering the love he once had and trying to respect his new bride. Lena never spoke of his struggle, and she never mentioned Lars. It was as if they’d made a pact of silence.

  He wordlessly unplaited her hair before they retired and temporarily lost his sadness in the tenderness she gave. In the dark of night, he still knew it was Lena, not Jane; but she was his wife now, and he let his barriers down in those private moments.

  Once, she whispered her love in the aftermath of their intimacy. He pressed his fingers to her soft lips and shook his head. “No, Lena. Don’t. We care about each other and for each other. That has to be enough. I have nothing else to give you.” She’d compressed her lips, grazed his cheek with her fingertips, and turned away. In the light of day, they never acknowledged the fragile bond they shared. Even if he could not cherish her, he hoped she drew strength and comfort from him.

  Lena knitted a woolen scarf for him for the winter, and each time he went out, she wrapped it about his neck. She got up early each morning to boil water just so he’d have warm water for shaving. She expert
ly mended his leather gloves and sewed clothes for the children. He knew she’d accepted her place—and that bothered him even more than if she’d railed against him for cornering her into a loveless marriage. Quietly she cared not just for the children, but for him, too. He didn’t deserve it…but when he urged her to stay abed or sit and rest, she’d still carry on with the little things that she thought a wife should do. He saw emotions in her eyes that he wanted to ignore—the caring, the need for affection, the sadness; yet Steven also saw the hickory toughness in her, and he hoped time would allow her to adjust to their bargain.

  One night he watched Lena finish knotting off a length of thread. She’d kept her head bowed over whatever it was she’d been working on for the past several evenings. “What is that?”

  Lena gave him a winsome smile. She held up a charmingly embroidered rag doll. “I thought Talitha needed one of these.”

  Steven thought of the dolls at the mercantile. They were fragile porcelain. When Talitha got much older, one of those dolls would be a cherished toy; but fora tiny girl who’d drag the doll about and abuse it, a soft, cuddly, homemade cloth doll was far more practical. He smiled. “That’s mighty kind of you, Lena. Little Talitha’ll probably love the stuffing right out of it.”

  “I hope so.” She set it aside and picked up a piece of muslin and started stitching it.

  Her hands were never still unless they held her precious Bible. She read aloud to the babies every evening. It seemed silly at first, but soon Steven made excuses to be present for those stories. Something about that Bible time eased a bit of the ache in his heart. One night when he’d been out with an ailing cow, he came in and caught Lena’s quiet voice. He stood in the hallway outside the parlor door. Something held him back from going into the room. He heard her close the Bible.

  “So he loved Rachel with all his heart, yet he was married to Leah. Leah tried to be a good wife to him. The very best she could. She gave him many sons, too, but he never grew to love her.”

  It wasn’t just the words. Lena’s voice carried a distress he’d rarely heard. Steven quietly tiptoed away before she discovered he’d eavesdropped. Bad enough he’d trapped her into a loveless marriage and cheated her out of all a woman deserved. He could at least let her keep her dignity. He owed her that much.

  For Christmas, he ordered new clothes and a beautiful brooch from a catalog for Lena. Lena thanked him sweetly and wore them with grace, but he realized she’d been just as queenly in her ragged feed-sack calico.

  She hadn’t pitched her old gowns into the ragbag, either. One afternoon he rode in after a few days out on the range to find Lena in her old gown, conscientiously walking one of his mares. “She got colicky. Mark was worried.”

  Steven took over. “Why didn’t Mark walk her?”

  Lena gave him a puzzled look. “I am able. Mark is needed for other things.” She walked beside him for a while. He finally rested his hand on her shoulder and asked, “Lena, how can you be so calm and have a peaceful heart? You’ve kept on going in spite of everything.”

  He stiffened when she slid her arm about his waist, but the horse still needed to stay in motion, so they paced along. Lena quietly said, “If I kept shaking my fist at God, how could I ask Him to hold my hand and lead me on?”

  Her words stunned him. He said nothing, and she didn’t seem to expect a reply. They continued walking in total silence; then she gave him a light squeeze. “I’ll see you at supper.”

  “Fine.”

  “And, Steven?” She let go and gave him a tender smile. “It is not easy, but you are not alone. God wants to comfort you and lead you on. Just as you want only good things for our children, God wants good things for you. Think on that.”

  Chapter 9

  Spring passed, and summer scorched the land. Since winter had been mild, the water table was low. Heat shimmered on the land. Prairie grasses were dangerously dry. Steven worried over having sufficient water for the stock; Lena fretted over saving every last drop for her garden.

  Johnny ran about and had taken to calling Steven “Daddy.” Talitha now crawled and mouthed a few sounds. She had a specific one for Lena, “Mamama.” They’d become a family, simply by virtue of the love they shared for the children. Though she hadn’t given birth to Talitha, Lena knew the little girl was truly her own daughter. She also knew Steven thoroughly loved her son. Even if he didn’t love her, she couldn’t help loving him. He’d kept his vows and provided well. He’d given her the protection of his name. He didn’t flaunt his wealth, but he was generous to a fault. His spiritual struggle hadn’t grown any easier, so she faithfully placed him in God’s keeping.

  Late one morning, Lena glanced out the window and narrowed her eyes. The heat of the day was already brutal, and she’d started to pull the curtains to keep out the harsh sunlight, but an ugly gray-black on the horizon captured her attention. Mrs. Axelrod had gone to her sister’s for a few days, so Lena was alone with the kids. Her mouth went dry. She had no help, and she knew what that darkness meant: Fire.

  Both children were napping. She ran to the barn and hitched the wagon herself. Quickly she drove it right to the veranda steps. With a glance over her shoulder, she checked the progress of the prairie fire. Lena knew she had precious little time. She pulled the drawer from Steven’s desk that held all of his bookkeeping for the ranch. She put it in the wagon along with his money box then ran upstairs. In a matter of moments, she dumped the children’s clothing on quilts, tied the corners, and threw the bundles down the stairs. In her haste, she made one more bundle and included her Bible, then grabbed both children from their cribs and raced outside. Praying ardently, she put the children in the wagon, climbed in, and set the wagon careening for safety.

  “Fire!”

  Steven squinted and caught his breath. Prairie fires moved lightning fast, and this one was no exception. He raced for his horse, vaulted into the saddle, and headed for home. Lena and the children were alone. Dear God, keep them safe! he prayed.

  Every hoofbeat, every heartbeat drummed home his worry. Cattle stampeded and every beast of the prairie bolted in panic. Animals knew to run, but would Lena? Even if she realized the danger, she’d never be able to handle the children. Big as they’d grown, she couldn’t carry them both. How could she possibly get away? The wind shifted and picked up. It swept embers and flames directly toward his home. Steven knew the creek lay in the path of the fire, but it wasn’t wide enough to stop the flames. God, please, please at least let it buy me a few more minutes to get to them!

  He coughed from the acrid smoke, leaned closer to his horse, and urged it on. His family needed him. Nothing else mattered—not the cattle, not the barn or house or machinery. Danger roared toward his wife and sweet babies. They must be so very afraid….

  Terror and relief mingled as he reached the edge of his yard. Steven rode straight up to the house and tied his antsy mount to the kitchen railing. “Lena! Lena!”

  He burst through the kitchen and into the hallway. “Lena!”

  No one answered. He hastily searched the house, yelling; but when he found the cribs rumpled and empty, he knew she’d taken the babies and fled. Steven ran back to his horse and spied the wagon tracks in the dirt out in front of the house. He followed them.

  “Lena!” he called, but she didn’t hear him. He watched as she veered off the road because the wind had shifted yet again. She’d exercised common sense and instinct to plot a course to safety. Steven closed the distance between them and jumped from his gelding onto the wagon seat then took the reins from her. She let out a cry of gladness then scrambled into the back to hold tightly to the children. He drove the wagon over the bridge and finally pulled it to a stop in a safe place on the other side of the river. Once he set the brake, he twisted around. “Are you all right?”

  Lena gave him a quick nod. Both children clung to her. He didn’t blame them in the least. He felt a mite shaky himself. He joined them in the wagon bed and pulled all three of them into his arms. “
Jesus, thank You for keeping them safe!”

  “He did keep us. I prayed, too,” Lena whispered into his smoky shirt. “He took care of all of us.”

  For a while, no one moved. They all huddled together in a knot. When Talitha started to fuss, Steven scooted to the side a bit. Lena lifted her and crooned softly.

  Something stabbed Steven in the hip. “What is this?”

  Lena wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I didn’t have much time. I couldn’t save much. Clothes, guns, your books and money box.”

  Essentials. Lena had been so very practical. He could scarcely credit that she’d hitched the wagon and made an escape at all—but she’d even had the foresight to grab a few of the most basic things. His respect for her mushroomed…until he bumped a quilt and his desk drawer came into view. She’d not only brought his books—Lena had grabbed the tintype of Jane he treasured.

  Steven stared at it and looked back at her. She turned away and busied herself by giving Talitha the rag dolly to gnaw on. “Lena, why? Of everything in the house, why did you save this?”

  She shrugged, but from the tension singing through her body, he knew the gesture was not a casual one. “You love her. It was a little thing, but I knew you and Talitha would want it.”

  He cupped her chin and lifted her face. “Lena, I loved Jane. She was the wife of my youth.” Pain streaked across her features. He hastened to add, “Young men grow up, Lena. Today I discovered I’ve been in love with you for a long while.”

  She pulled away and dumbly shook her head.

  “No, Lena. Please hear me out. I don’t need a decorative little woman. I need a wife. I need a helpmate, a partner in life. You are that woman. Jane wouldn’t have left the house. She’d have sat in the parlor and wrung her hands. She’d have collected her pretty clothes and treasures and waited there. You are wise and capable. You acted and saved the children and yourself. Things can be replaced; a family cannot. You’ll never know the terror I endured trying to reach you.”