Want Ad Wedding

by Cheryl St. John

  Leah noted his tense expression and realized her words may have sounded less appreciative than she’d intended. “And yet you’re still hands-on with the stock, so it makes sense,” she said. “Now competing in that race yesterday—and winning? That was not a surprise.”

  He shrugged, but finally gave her a lopsided smile.

  “You looked so happy when you jumped off Woodrow and waved your hat in the air. That was the Daniel I remember.”

  He gave her a tender look. “I’m that happy right now.”

  Meaning being here with her. She was happier than she’d been in a long time, too. Finding Daniel meant safety and security of course, but beyond that she’d found more than her old friend. He was a man she admired, a man of conviction and courage and principle. He was a trustworthy companion. He was the man with whom she would spend her life, and it wouldn’t be a burden or a sacrifice.

  Charles had never been a kind or a caring man, but when he’d returned after the war she hadn’t even known him. He’d taken to leaving for days at a time. Between Charles, the losses she’d suffered and the state of the country, she’d lost her faith in mankind, but Daniel had gathered a community of men and women who were willing to work hard to start over and make this a place where they wanted to live.

  She was happy, too, but she didn’t want to admit it to herself let alone to Daniel. Caring was risky. Being happy was dangerous. Life was too fragile, and joy an elusive notion. An uncomfortable feeling grew from deep within her and she fought it down.

  She was being unfair to Daniel. He was giving everything. Sharing his home, all he’d worked for, giving all. And she was holding back, protecting herself.

  She’d never felt worthy of him. Every day pointed out the differences between them. Regret and a tinge of anger—directed toward herself—made her eyes sting with tears, and she looked away.

  “Leah, what’s wrong?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Not here. Not now.”

  “Do you want to leave?”

  “No.” She composed herself. The waiter came and they ordered their meals. She noticed Pippa having supper with a young man wearing a shirt and tie, his hair slicked back and his tanned face scrubbed shiny.

  Garnering composure and resolve, she forced herself to look at Daniel. “You’re using all the gifts and abilities God has given you. You’re enjoying the fact that you survived the war and you’re set on making this a better country to live in.”

  “You make me sound pretty grand.” He gave a modest shrug. “I’m just doing the best I can to set things to right again. Yes, I was fortunate enough to live through something many, many men didn’t. I have to believe there’s a reason God spared me—along with Will and Noah—and you. I don’t want to waste precious days of life when I could be enjoying them...and doing something worthwhile.”

  She looked at him. “I used to feel a similar desire, but that was before. Now I’ve become focused on survival—on me. It’s all about me, about how I can take care of my baby, about what’s best for this child. I’ve been so selfish.”

  He placed his hand over hers, surprising her. “That’s what you’re supposed to be doing. It’s nature’s way. It’s instinct. God made you a woman and gave you these protective feelings for the survival of the human race. Where would we be if women weren’t brave enough to have babies and protect them?”

  “I’m not a baby mill, Daniel. I want to contribute more than that. What gifts do I have that will help restore our country?”

  “What about your passion for being a midwife? That’s a gift to all the women coming west and having the very same concerns you have for your child. Opal for example. You probably don’t know what a blessing you’ve been to her—and to Amos.” Tightening his grip on her hand, he gently stroked his thumb over her knuckles. “And there will be more women and more opportunities as Cowboy Creek expands and the new brides marry and have children. Here you’ll be, waiting for them. Families will have you to rely on, and you’ll train others.”

  She couldn’t help it—she wanted to cry—but instead she laughed. She laughed and tears trickled down her cheeks at the same time.

  Daniel reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief.

  She dabbed her eyes and nose. “You just won’t let a girl feel sorry for herself, will you? Even when I’m a big baby and a worrywart, you tell me how great I am and make me feel better.”

  “Do you feel better?”

  She did. She had something to offer. She had a way to contribute to the lives of their neighbors and friends. Now if she could think of something to offer Daniel, some way to deserve him, she might feel worthy of his devotion—and of his confidence in her.

  Chapter Twenty

  The dream came that night, but as it began Leah woke herself. She got out of bed and lit the lamp on her bureau. A light rain pattered on the roof, and she moved the curtain aside. Rivulets trickled down the panes of glass, sparkling in the moonlight shining in. “Thank You for the rain,” she said softly. “Thank You for waiting until the fair was past.”

  The gentle rain would do wonders for their vegetable and flower gardens, as well as the fledgling rose and lilac bushes in the side yard. In a few years, they would have a lovely place to sit and have tea or lunch. She could invite the other ladies for get-togethers during fair weather.

  She smiled, liking that she was thinking like a domesticated woman, someone who was settled in and part of a community again. She liked that the nightmare hadn’t taken hold and stolen her peace of mind. Perhaps telling Daniel about that time and her mother’s death had allowed her to face it, to grieve, to fully understand she’d done the only thing she could have and still survive. She’d lived to pick up the pieces, to start over.

  She sat in the comfortable rose-printed chair, picked up her Bible from the stand and held it to her breast, her arms crossed over it and she closed her eyes. Very soon she would have a new baby to hold. She had the courage to believe it now. Only a matter of weeks now and she would be cradling her baby in her arms. She had so much to be thankful for.

  She thought of the preparations they’d been making. The nursery, the ark Noah had carved, the blanket Opal had knitted and the delicate yellow calico gown Hannah had sewn. Friends were truly a blessing, and even more so when one didn’t have family. If things had been different her mother would have loved to share this time with her. She and Daniel would make sure the baby had influences like Aunt Mae and Valentine in its young life. She had adored her grandparents and this child needed similar substitutes. Will and Noah would make fine uncles.

  As she so often did, she thought of their families when they were children. Daniel’s mother had died when he was young.

  She opened her eyes and sat forward, the Bible resting on her knees. Daniel’s father was still alive. She tried to remember what Daniel had mentioned about him. Had he ever said specifically where he was living or what he was doing? It would be good if he could visit.

  Rain played a staccato melody on the roof. Leah stood and set down her Bible before moving to the bureau where one of the new framed portraits sat. They were all lovely, but this one was her favorite. It was one that had been taken before they’d changed into their formal clothing. An untidy lock of hair trailed down her neck. Daniel’s hair was windblown. She vividly remembered the moment it was taken. She had just reached up to smooth a strand from his forehead and paused with a hand on his shoulder as he looked at her with that expression...

  She loved the masculine angles of his face, the arch of his brow, the fine, straight column of his nose. He had nicely shaped lips and defined cheekbones, each feature striking on its own, the combination a riveting masterpiece. But it was his countenance that stirred the cold ashes of her heart and coaxed a steady white-hot new flame, created a disturbing jumble of nerves and breathed hope and life into tender new
feelings.

  Of all the things he’d given her—a home, security, his name, the china, both gold rings, the garnet brooch—this breathless new treasure was the most valuable. Expectation. Anticipation. She’d forgotten what optimism felt like.

  She’d forgotten what—

  The idea that struck her was an answer to her prayer. She finally knew what she could do for Daniel. The perfect thing guaranteed to please and surprise him. Leah felt altogether giddy with excitement over the plan she was forming. First thing in the morning after Daniel left for work, she would visit Will at his office and get his help in carrying out her strategy.

  She focused on the portrait again, skimmed her fingertips over Daniel’s image, then turned down the wick, plunging the room into darkness. She found the bed, determined to sleep now so she’d be rested for the following day.

  “Thank You, Lord.”

  * * *

  Daniel rode out to meet the trail boss who’d driven a huge herd to the stockyards the previous day. The healthy-looking longhorns milled in the pens, drinking fresh water and eating hay and grain before being shipped out. It would take a couple of days to get the cows weighed, loaded and shipped. He invited Mannie Southworth to a meal at the hotel, as he did all the bosses and their head drovers.

  Waiting in the lobby for a table, Daniel glanced at the stairs as two pair of feet, trouser legs and the hem of a familiar skirt came into view. As the couple descended, he recognized Leah and Will. They didn’t see him, absorbed as they were in their conversation.

  Leah wore an animated expression and nodded at something Will was saying as they exited the front doors onto Eden Street. Daniel gravitated toward the front window and watched them through the pane of glass. They stood in plain sight of anyone walking past or viewing from a store window and they were doing nothing but talking.

  Leah hadn’t mentioned going to see Will.

  The same unease he’d felt before rose in his chest. He didn’t like the feeling. He’d gone through this in his younger days. Leah had chosen Will over him. Did those strong feelings ever really disappear? His hadn’t.

  The two certainly had a lot to say to each other. Leah’s vibrant face was practically shining with excitement over whatever they were talking about. She gestured with one hand and Will smiled indulgently. Daniel’s gut clenched in a visceral response. She was his wife now. He could go out there and let them know he’d seen them.

  “Daniel, our table’s ready,” Mannie said.

  “Yes,” he replied, but he couldn’t look away. Leah had once had strong enough feelings for Will to believe she wanted to one day marry him. They’d all been close as children, but as they matured, her feelings for Will changed while Daniel stayed a friend.

  Will hadn’t shared a lot of what she’d written in her few letters after they’d joined the regiment. He’d eventually told Daniel the separation wasn’t working and they were calling it off. They’d learned later about Leah’s marriage to Charles Swann.

  Will had been engaged to Dora when Leah had arrived, so resuming their relationship hadn’t been an option. Daniel had been so relieved to see her, so absorbed by her presence and concerned for her welfare, he’d barged ahead and made it his business to find a match for her.

  She’d been vulnerable. She’d been through harrowing experiences and loss, and had come to Cowboy Creek seeking a solution to her dilemma. Of course Daniel had thought he was the answer. He wanted to be the answer. She’d come to start over, and perhaps he’d placed her in an awkward position and forced her hand.

  Had she felt obligated because they’d been friends?

  “Daniel?” Mannie called.

  He turned and joined the drovers, walking into the dining room on leaden legs and taking a seat. Maybe he’d been kidding himself all along and his boyish infatuation had fooled him into thinking he and Leah could make more of this marriage than she’d ever promised.

  She’d told him flat out this was a convenient arrangement. She cared for him, but she treated him as a friend. Those surprising kisses they’d shared... Perhaps she was fulfilling an obligation, acting on something she didn’t feel but knew he wanted—doing what was expected of her. The thought made him sick.

  The smells of the food made him queasy. His stomach burned and his chest felt heavy. There was surely an innocent explanation for why his wife had been to visit Will. She would tell him all about it tonight. She was honorable and honest, and she would never involve herself in anything inappropriate. He trusted Will with his life. They’d always been as close as brothers.

  He didn’t for a heartbeat believe anything was going on behind his back.

  But people’s hearts didn’t follow the rules. Love chose a person, rather than the other way around. If Leah still loved Will, his friend was now free. Daniel may have jumped the gun by marrying her first.

  The special of the day was porcupine meatballs and a mound of mashed potatoes and red gravy. He ate a few bites and pushed the rest around on his plate, forcing himself to join the conversation and be polite.

  All he cared about was her happiness. He would have to do the right thing. He would have to make sure she knew he understood and apologize for being impatient. If things were as he suspected, he would have to let her go, even if the thought ripped him apart.

  After their lunch, Daniel went to his office at the stockyards and buried himself in paperwork for the afternoon. Eventually he headed home, his heart thudding with dread.

  She had set the dining room table, and together with Valentine prepared a meal. Valentine left and they ate in silence. Eventually, he asked, “How was your day?”

  “It was fine. I picked up a few things at Remmy’s.”

  He waited for her to speak of her meeting with Will, but no mention was forthcoming. Finally he set down his fork. “How do you feel about me, Leah?”

  She glanced at him in surprise. She rested her fork on the edge of her plate. “I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

  “It doesn’t matter what I want you to say,” he said in a hollow tone. “Just be honest. Nothing more.”

  “I’m very fond of you. You know that. I always have been.”

  He pushed his plate away and folded his hands on the table. “I’ve made you a lot of promises, and I want you to know I will keep every last one. I will take care of you. And I’ll see the baby is taken care of, no matter what happens.”

  She frowned. “What could happen?”

  “I won’t hold you against your will. You’re not obligated to me. I’ll do anything I can to make things easy for you—for the both of us. We’ve both had some time to think about things and the situation has changed since you first arrived. I can arrange for an annulment if that’s what you’d prefer.”

  “Daniel,” she whispered with tears in her eyes. “What are you saying? Why would you suggest such a thing?”

  “You didn’t marry me for love, Leah.”

  She flattened a hand over her heart. “I’ve made some stupid and selfish mistakes, but—”

  “You’re neither stupid nor selfish.”

  “I’ve been a coward.”

  He pushed back his chair and stood, laying down his napkin. “I won’t hold you.”

  “Daniel.”

  He raised a palm. “Don’t make it any harder. Just don’t. It’s my fault. I apologize for pushing you into something we weren’t ready for. I got ahead of myself. I always have to fix everything. Maybe this time I rushed us into this marriage without waiting to see what God was going to do.” Clenching his jaw, he shoved a hand through his hair, and his next words came out a strangled whisper. “This is hard for me, Leah. Hard. But it’s not the kind of marriage or the life I want. I want more.”

  He turned and left the room.

  The front door closed and Leah sat stunned in the silent din
ing room. She wasn’t quite sure what had provoked Daniel’s pronouncement or his hurt and anger, but she was pretty sure her cowardice had something to do with it. She had taken the compassion and security he offered and made marriage sound like a business contract.

  He was the kindest, smartest, most generous and noble man she knew, and she’d held him at arm’s length because she wasn’t ready for more. Because she wasn’t ready to commit. She been too afraid to open herself up—and too cowardly to let herself be vulnerable. As if holding back had worked.

  As if this pain felt any better than the pain she’d have felt if she had said the words—if she had listened to her heart.

  She’d been so hopeful the night before, certain she could do something that pleased him. Today she’d put her plan in motion, but now she didn’t know what was going to happen.

  What had she done?

  Feeling as though the life and light had gone out of her plan, she cleared the plates, washed the dishes and put them away. She walked through the still house, aching with regret. She had never intended to be a burden. She had fully meant to be a wife, make Daniel happy. But she’d mistakenly believed that marrying for sensible reasons, marrying a good friend and having security, was more important than love. What was so terrifying about love anyway?

  A marble-topped bureau had been delivered that day, and she’d had it placed in the foyer and hung a mirror over it. She opened the top drawer and took out the only item she’d placed in it—a shawl. She draped it around her shoulders and left the house.

  For a few moments she stood on the porch, contemplating her choices. It struck her that she had no idea where to find Daniel. He often worked at his office at the stockyards, but that was east of town and he rode a horse to get there. She didn’t know what she’d say to him if she found him anyway; she simply needed to clear her head.

  Normally, she took Lincoln Boulevard south, but she headed west on Fourth Street, which had very few structures, save a laundry and, on the next block, the skeleton of the opera house. What this town needed was a park, a place with benches and somewhere to sit and think. She walked farther and found a dirt road intersection surrounded by nothing but grass and crickets.