by Linda Ford
She watched them leave their fort and head toward Ward and herself. Several times they glanced back at the work of their hands. “It’s a shame to make them leave after all their hard work.”
“I know, but it will soon be dark.”
“Maybe we can come again.” She did not look at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to invite myself.”
“It wouldn’t be the same if you didn’t accompany us.”
She looked at him.
He looked at her lips. She resisted an urge to lick them. And an even greater longing to press her lips to his.
She dropped the blankets into the cart as the boys reached them.
“Can we ride?” Kit asked.
“Okay.” Ward lifted the younger boy in and Milo climbed in on his own.
“I’ll help push.” Freyda would not admit that she wanted to help so she could walk close to Ward nor that she wanted to feel a part of this family.
By the time they reached the house, Kit’s head lulled against his brother’s chest. Freyda’s throat tightened at the tender picture. Kit wakened and shivered. “I’m cold.”
“Why don’t I make hot cocoa?” Freyda offered, not allowing herself to admit she welcomed a chance to prolong the day.
“That would be nice.” Ward carried Kit into the house.
Freyda hurried to the kitchen and set the milk to heat while she put out four heavy china cups. Minutes later, they sat down at the table, hot cocoa before each of them.
Kit could barely keep his eyes open as he drank.
Milo giggled at his brother, but his amusement ended in a wide yawn.
Ward chuckled. “Finish up, you two, and then into bed.”
The boys downed the last of their drink. Ward carried Kit to the bedroom, Milo trudging along behind.
Freyda put away the picnic things and washed the cups and saucepan. She put milk into a saucer for the kitten. She dried the last item and hung the towel to dry just as Ward emerged from the bedroom.
“They are already asleep. Are you in a hurry to leave?”
She should go home and check on Smokey. Shut in the chickens. Leave Ward and the memories of the shared afternoon. The memory of a kiss. Instead, she said, “I’m in no hurry.”
“Are you warm enough to sit outside and watch the sunset?”
“I’m fine.” She wouldn’t complain in the midst of a snowstorm if he asked her to share an evening with him.
He took two chairs out and put them side by side. They sat close enough she could feel and welcome some body heat.
“It’s chilly.” He went inside and brought back one of the picnic blankets and draped it around her shoulders.
Her imagination suggested his fingers lingered on her shoulders a moment longer than necessary to put the blanket in place, then he returned to his chair and tipped back. “I think that was one of the nicest afternoons I’ve ever had.”
Freyda allowed herself to think that might be in part, from her being with him. “What are some of your other good afternoons?”
He grew still. “Apart from the birth of my sons, I don’t have a lot of good memories. Seems even the ones that started out good turned sour.”
She stifled a protest at how he’d been raised. “Tell me about a good one.”
He thought a moment. “I remember one day my aunt had company. Ladies of the church all dressed in their very best. I think they were having a prayer meeting about something. I was seven. In fact, it was my birthday, not that it meant anything to anyone but me and the only reason I even knew was because I found it in the Bible. June fifteenth. Ward Allen Rollins. It also had the deaths of my parents. But that has nothing to do with my story. Aunt had made me put on my very best clothes and warned me I must act like a real little gentlemen. I was to greet the ladies nicely and then go away and leave them alone. One lady in particular was so nice to me. She shook my hand and said how nice I looked. ‘Your aunt and uncle must be so proud of you.’ I thought my heart would burst from my chest. Every time I saw the woman at church after that she would smile at me and pat my shoulder if she was close enough. I lived for that.”
“That’s sweet.”
“I’m trying to remember only that part and not the rest.”
She stiffened, not liking the bitterness in his voice. “What happened?” She didn’t want to know and yet had to in order to understand this man.
“Aunt nudged me. ‘Say thank you.’ I did. Then Aunt pushed me toward the door with a warning whisper to stay out of the way. I sat on the step trying to hear that nice woman’s voice. I heard it several times and it made me happy. But I got bored and wandered away. I found a patch of flowers nearby. Wild roses. I tried to pick some for that lady but the petals fell off so I looked about for something else and found some pretty purple ones. I picked them and took them to the lady. Aunt Myra snatched them away and later used the switch on me for bringing those dirty weeds into the house.”
“Oh, Ward. That’s terrible.” She could hardly force the words from her tight throat.
He shrugged, his eyes glazed. “It’s in the past.”
“Feelings don’t die just because we want them to. Or order them to.” She pressed her hand to his forearm. “Every little boy deserves to be loved and valued.”
His gaze came to hers. “That is what I want for Milo and Kit.”
She rubbed her hand in a little circle. “And you give it to them.”
He nodded, his eyes not revealing anything.
She understood he was used to hiding his feelings in order to protect himself from the cruelty of his aunt. Her heart ached for the little boy who had been treated so unkindly. And the man who had lost his wife and for the fact she had not been the sort of woman he needed and wanted. Her aching heart wanted to soothe away his hurts. Not giving herself a chance to change her mind, she lifted a hand to cup his cheek. “Ward, I wish I could erase all the pain inflicted on your heart by your aunt.”
He pressed his hand to hers, trapping it. The roughness of his day-old whiskers brushed her palm. The coolness of his skin gave way to warmth. His eyes darkened and filled with hunger. He brought her palm to his lips and kissed it.
“The past can’t be erased.” His voice was hoarse.
“No, it can’t. But know this. It could have turned you into a cruel and bitter man. Instead, you’ve become a gentle, kind man.”
His fingers closed around hers and he lowered their clasped hands to his knee. “You think that?”
She smiled. “I know it. Your boys know it and so do you.”
His smile began as a flash of light in his eyes then spread to his mouth until his whole face was wreathed in joy. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” He touched her cheek and studied her as if seeing her for the first time. Really seeing her.
She let him look. Let him see her sincerity. And her concern. And her wish for—
He blinked and looked around as if coming from a dream. “It’s cold and dark. You should be home safe and sound. Instead, I’ve kept you here.” He banged the heel of his hand to his head.
She half expected he would call himself stupid just as Milo had earlier. She caught his hand. “You didn’t keep me. I stayed.”
He sucked in air. “But now it will be dark before you get back and I can’t leave the boys and go with you.”
“I’ll be fine. Do you mind if I keep the blanket?” She pulled it tighter about her against the cool, damp air.
“Keep it. Do you need another?” His restless worry made her yearn to comfort him again.
“I’ll be fine. After all, haven’t I come all the way from Norway to prove I can manage on my own? Let me believe I can.”
He drew his mouth down in resignation. “I suppose I am overreacting. Remembering my aunt and talking about her makes me anxious not to do something wrong.”
“Ward Rollins.” She pressed her hand to his chest. “Stop right there. I am responsible for my choices. Not you. Now I am going to walk home. I will g
et there safely so don’t worry.”
“I don’t like it. How will I know you’ve arrived safely?”
“I tell you what. I will light the lantern and swing it back and forth when I get home.”
“Thank you. I will watch for it and I will light my lantern to acknowledge I have seen it.”
“Then good night.” She paused half a second, wondering if he would try and kiss her again.
“Good night. I’ll be watching.”
She took a step toward her house when he spoke again.
“I enjoyed the day. Every part of it.”
She heard the smile in his voice, knew he meant to remind her of certain aspects of the day, and she held that cherished moment in her heart all the way home. As soon as she arrived, she swung the lit lantern back and forth until she saw the answering light from Ward’s house.
Only then did she go to the barn and get Smokey and carry him as she shut the chicken house door. Inside the house, she realized she still smiled. She stood still. Why had his concern about her getting home safely felt so different from the concern her family showed when she wanted to do things on her own? She couldn’t say and didn’t want to think too deeply about the afternoon for fear she would drown out the joy bubbling in her heart.
Instead, she fed the kitten and played with him until bedtime. But once she lay between the covers in the dark, pictures of the day raced through her head.
She pressed her fingers to her lips. Had his kiss really been only an attempt to comfort her? Did she want it to mean more than that?
8
Ward hurriedly fed the boys breakfast the next morning. It had been fun to take a day off and enjoy it in Freyda’s company, but now it was back to reality. Get the crops in, do the new breaking, and guard his heart against the pain a woman could inflict.
As he’d thought before, Freyda seemed different. But she was stubborn and determined to have her own place. That left little room in her life for him and his family. He had to remember that.
“Here she comes,” Kit called, and he and Milo raced out the door to greet Freyda. Milo carried his kitten in his arms. Storm didn’t seem to mind the jostling.
Ward remained in the kitchen but the boys had left the door open and he could see them.
Freyda stopped to greet the boys, rubbing both of them on the head then stroking the kitten. Milo and Kit crowded to her side as they continued to the house. Not that she seemed to mind. She held a hand on the shoulder of each boy and laughed at something they said.
At the doorstep, she looked into the house. She didn’t see him as he lingered in the shadows and then she found him and her smile went straight into his heart.
“’Morning,” he said.
She said something in Norwegian that he assumed meant good morning.
He eased away from the wall upon which he leaned and found his hat. Right where he’d left it. “I’ll get the horses hitched up.”
“Can I try today?”
“Sure.” They fell into step on the way to the barn. He stood back and let her put on the harness and guide the horses to the seeder. She had them back up. He only had to reach out once to take her hand and show her how much pressure to use. She completed the task on her own.
“I did it. I did it.” She jumped up and down, grabbed his hands, and pulled him into her excited dance.
“Yes, you did.” He grinned. What else could he teach her to get this response? It had only been a neighborly gesture, he informed his befuddled brain, but he couldn’t stop smiling. “Now if you let go, I can finish this field.”
She dropped his hands like they were hot coals. “I’m sorry. I was just so excited.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “I’m happy too.” He didn’t lower his hand until she looked at him. She must have seen something in his eyes for her lashes fluttered and her cheeks grew pink. She grabbed Kit’s hand. “We’ll let you get to work.”
He chuckled as they headed for the house.
A little later he saw her drag out the big washtubs and fill them with water. He stopped and stared. He didn’t expect her to do the laundry. He’d get it done one of these days. Or take it to town and pay one of the ladies to do it.
He listened. Was she singing? Maybe he wouldn’t take the laundry to town if she enjoyed it that much. Smiling, he returned to his own work, though his attention went often to the yard. Soon sheets and towels and shirts blew on the line. At the end of the row as he paused, he listened. She was still singing.
The boys played nearby. He caught a glimpse of the kitten running in the grass and the boys chasing after it.
The world was a pretty place.
Freyda and the boys came out at noon to announce dinner and she stayed at his side as he took the horses in for rest and water. The smell of clean laundry filled his nostrils as they crossed to the house. Inside, savory scents brought a flood of saliva to his mouth.
He liked this arrangement between himself and Freyda and had to remind himself it could not be permanent.
After dinner, he rested a few minutes then returned to his work.
A little later, Freyda began to take things off the line. Soon the clotheslines were empty. Of course they were. That’s how laundry was done. But something about those bare lines drew his gaze over and over. Each time his heart dipped. The word empty echoed through his head.
He determined he would not look that direction again.
He was almost finished with the field. Tomorrow he could begin to do Freyda’s field. They would eat their meals there.
Would that make things different? Would it make it easier for him to remember who he was? The things he had promised himself he would never again do?
He realized his jaws hurt and forced himself to relax.
He could finish tonight if he worked until dark. Would Freyda mind staying that long?
She looked his way and he signaled for her to come to the field. She called the boys and they crossed to him.
She had brought a pail of cold water and he downed a good portion of it before he spoke. “I could finish tonight if I work until dark.”
“I don’t mind staying until you’re done.”
“You sure? It means walking home after dark again.”
Her smile was half warning. “I’m not about to break because you want to work.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
She nodded once, rather briskly. “So long as you remember that I am capable of more than people give me credit for.”
He grinned as he nodded toward the horses. “I firmly believe you can do whatever you set your mind to, but that doesn’t mean I want to take advantage of our agreement.”
“When you finish here, you start on my field, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Then it is to my advantage to make it possible for you to finish.”
He nodded again.
“I’ll save you supper.” Milo and Kit were already halfway back to the house and she followed them.
He returned to his work. Was she anxious for him to get her work done so their agreement would end? He tried to convince himself he didn’t care one way or the other.
Freyda knew she had overreacted to his concern about her walking home in the dark and it wasn’t because of what he said. It was because of the way her heart had lurched at the idea of him waiting until he saw her lantern. She liked the idea of him answering with his own lantern. During the night, she had thought of how they could set up a communication system between them using the glow of their lights. Wasn’t that how ships sent messages to each other?
Neither of them was a ship, she reminded herself. And they had no need for communication that couldn’t occur when they saw each other.
But how often would that be once her crop was in the ground?
She dare not admit how much she would miss them.
She ironed shirts, made the beds, and played with the little boys. Keeping busy was the best way to keep her thoughts from wandering down forbid
den pathways.
Milo had invented a game with Storm. He watched the kitten, then hid in the grass, though apart from his toes, he was in plain view. When the cat came near, Milo jumped out. The cat leaped in the air and tackled Milo’s leg. Milo laughed every time.
Kit watched, longing clear in his face and posture, but if he tried to join in the game, Storm got confused and quit playing.
“Kit, why don’t you make a ball out of grass and roll it for the kitten?”
She helped Kit make the ball.
Kit threw it at Storm and the kitten ran away.
“You scared him.” Milo clenched his fists and glowered at his brother.
Kit pressed to Freyda’s side.
She put her arm around him as she spoke to Milo. “He was only trying to play.”
Milo scowled at her. “He’s stupid.”
Kit shivered against her. She put him aside and went to Milo. He would have run away, but Freyda caught his arm. He tried to kick her but she avoided his feet. Seeing him about to lose control, she wrapped her arms around him from the back. “No one is stupid. People make mistakes and have accidents.” She continued to talk softly in his ear.
Milo fought her for a few seconds and then calmed. She held him until she thought he was over his upset then slowly released him.
Storm wandered over and meowed.
Milo scooped up the kitten and went to the side of the house where he sat holding the cat and murmuring to it.
Freyda turned her attention back to Kit. He wasn’t where she’d last seen him. She glanced about the yard. Where had he gone? She raced around the barn. The loft door was shut. Her breath whooshed out. No little boy up there.
The creek? Would he go there on his own?
Before she went that direction she would search the house and yards thoroughly. “Kit, where are you?”
She went into the house. She walked around the house and barn and chicken house. There were several smaller outbuildings but a quick glance didn’t reveal the missing boy. She looked toward Ward. No sign of a little boy with him. Milo remained by the house. Ward was almost at the end of the field where he would stop for a moment to rest the horses and take a drink. She gathered up her skirts and ran toward the field.