The sun was low in the sky. He thought of Jenny and the battle he was likely to face. Most folks around these parts would be winding down for the night because they rose so early in the morning. He himself had been up since five o’clock that morning and was finding it difficult to suppress the desire to yawn. Knowing Jenny, he worried that their evening was only just beginning.
Dalton was still trying to decide whether to wake Jillian when the wagon wheel hit an unusually large rut in the road and lurched to the side. Jillian flew away from him toward the right. Dalton reached over and caught her by the arm, quickly settling her to rights once again.
Jillian looked around, disoriented for a moment. She realized she must have fallen asleep and was sorely embarrassed. How long have I been out? she wondered. She was all too aware of Dalton’s hand that still held her upper arm, trying to keep her steady. She must have nearly fallen out of the wagon when it suddenly pitched to one side. She looked up at him, embarrassed, and smiled her thanks. He hesitantly let go of her when she appeared to have her balance once more. Looking around again, slowly this time, Jillian was pleased with the beauty that surrounded her and sighed deeply. They were passing a meadow of wildflowers on the left and a massive field of green cornstalks on the right. They must be coming up onto a farm. I wonder how much farther, she thought.
It seemed that Dalton could read her mind; he smiled at her obvious pleasure. He looked down at her and spoke. “That’s Aunt Betty and Uncle Ned’s house just up ahead.”
Jillian was relieved to finally be nearing the end of her journey. “I’m afraid I must look a fright by now,” she remarked. Her hands went immediately back to her hair. Her braid had indeed come loose again. She wasn’t surprised. Swiftly pulling it out, she was able to braid it again in no time. She was just retying the ribbon when they turned past the gate and headed up to the house.
Before the wagon could come to a full stop, the door burst open and a slight but energetic little girl came tumbling out. She quickly regained her footing and hurried down the stairs.
Dalton set the brake and hopped off the wagon. He swept the little one up into his arms, giving her a twirl and a kiss on the cheek before setting her back down.
“Pa, you was gone forever!” she complained, but the smile never left her face or her eyes. “Jenny was so ornery all day. She’s still mad about her leg,” she paused—This must be Lisa, Jillian thought—and glanced over at Jillian, then continued quietly, “ . . . and our new ma.” She gave Jillian a shy smile. “I’m not mad though, Pa. She’s pretty.” Jillian smiled, and the child continued talking. “Are ya glad with her, Pa? Is she as pretty as our real ma was?” She paused to look up into her father’s eyes, as his face paled a little. “Jenny says no one will ever be as pretty as our real ma, but I think she’s real pretty. What does Jenny mean by ‘real,’ anyhow?” She didn’t even stop to take a breath. “Jenny can be so mean sometimes. Auntie Bet says that Jenny’s still got a big hurt inside here,” Lisa put her hand over her heart, “and that she really doesn’t want to be so mean to me. I do hear her cryin’ in her room at night sometimes when she thinks I’m already sleepin’. I told her one day that if she was so sad about somethin’, she should talk to you or Auntie Bet ’bout it. She got all mad and told me that I didn’t know nothin’. Then she says . . .”
Lisa stopped talking when Jillian walked over and knelt down on one knee beside her so they were eye level. Her eyes got big when Jillian reached out and took one of her hands and placed her other hand lovingly on her cheek. She smiled shyly, and Jillian smiled in return.
“You must be Lisa.” What a delightful child this is, Jillian thought to herself, and such a talker! “I am very pleased to meet you at last. Your father wrote me many wonderful things about you, and I can see why you are so deserving of his praise.” She looked over at Dalton. He still looked a bit taken aback at Lisa’s string of questions, but at least the color had come back into his face. He wouldn’t have had time to answer them anyway, because Lisa started up again.
“Jenny says you probably wouldn’t come ’cause Pa was late,” she said. “He was late ’cause Jenny cut her leg. He tried real hard to be on time, so you wouldn’t be scared bein’ alone and not knowin’ anyone . . . but Jenny says it don’t matter if you do come ’cause you probably won’t stay long anyhow. ” For the first time since Lisa had tumbled through the door, her smile disappeared and was replaced by a sad pout as she quietly asked, “You will stay . . . won’t you?” She looked deep into Jillian’s eyes questioningly. “Even if Jenny’s got a hurt that makes her so mean?” The questioning look turned to pleading. “I’ve been waitin’ a real long time for a new ma, been prayin’ too . . . real hard.”
Before Jillian could answer her, the door to the house burst open again. Jenny walked out and down the steps with her arms folded across her chest. She was shocked by the contrast in the looks of the two girls.
Lisa’s long hair was a golden, honey-colored blonde, and her eyes were bright blue. They seemed to dance and sparkle when they caught your attention. Jenny’s hair was dark and cut just a bit shorter. Her eyes were also blue, but with flecks of grey around the edges. There seemed to be a storm brewing just under their surface.
From the corner of her eye, Jillian saw Dalton smile and take a tentative step toward her. Jenny gave him a glare that stopped him dead in his tracks, and she noticed his shoulders slump slightly in defeat.
Lisa turned and saw that Jenny had come out of the house, her worry forgotten momentarily as she smiled at Jenny genuinely. Jillian could tell she loved and admired her sister, despite all her frustrations.
“Jenny!” she exclaimed. “Look, our new ma is here! I told you she would come! See how pretty she is?” She pointed toward Jillian as if to prove her point. “Told you so,” she added a bit more smugly, looking triumphantly back over at Jenny.
Jillian braced herself for Jenny’s angry glare and was not disappointed. Jenny looked back at her father, and this time the defiant look she gave him was mixed with a questioning pain. Without warning, Jenny took off running, favoring one leg just a little as she ran between the house and the barn. She headed quickly into the meadow that lay just beyond. Dalton sighed.
Jillian wished she could comfort him but knew that was not her place. She saw that Lisa started crying. Jillian took her protectively into her arms and held her close and smoothed her hair.
“Jenny’s going to ruin everything.” Lisa’s voice trembled. “She’s going to make you want to leave.” Jillian took her shoulders and held her back so she could look into her eyes.
“Nothing is going to be ruined, little one, you just wait and see.” But as Jillian saw the look of sadness on Dalton’s face as he stared after his willful and broken daughter, she wasn’t so sure herself.
Dalton was torn. He wondered if he should go right after Jenny or let her brood awhile. He knew where she would be headed. Maybe she would find comfort there. He realized that his delay in speaking with her was not only making this more difficult for him, but was hurting Jillian’s feelings as well. Little Lisa was also being affected by his thoughtlessness. All he could do now was pray that they could work this out as quickly as possible.
His smallest daughter’s questions had been almost unbearable. How could he answer them? He was relieved when Jillian seemed to sense that he was being overwhelmed and had come to his rescue. When she knelt down beside his tiny daughter, with no thought of soiling her lovely dress and took one of her small hands into her own, placing the other softly on little Lisa’s cheek, his heart confirmed to him again that this woman would be a source of healing and comfort in their home.
The door to the house opened again for the third time. Aunt Betty stepped out, carrying a little blond-headed boy. He was the spitting image of his father, with the exception of his hair color. He was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes when he spotted Dalton. He stretched his arms out toward him and squealed with delight. Aunt Betty walked forward, and, aft
er giving Dalton a knowing look, she nodded her head out toward the meadow questioningly. As Aunt Betty deposited little Brenn into his father’s arms, Jillian saw Dalton slightly nod his head affirmatively. A troubled look crossed Aunt Betty’s face, disappearing as she turned and came toward Jillian, arms outstretched.
“Ah, here you are at last!” she exclaimed as she gathered Jillian up into her ample arms. “We’ve been expecting you for quite some time now, you know. I was beginning to wonder if you had missed your train.” She pulled Jillian back enough to see her face and to give her a teasing look before gathering her back into her arms for another hug.
Jillian was glad her face was hidden for a moment so Aunt Betty didn’t see the blush that had come to her cheeks. She wondered what Aunt Betty thought of Dalton’s method of obtaining a wife and mother for his children. Sensing they were close, she assumed that they were in each other’s confidence and was sure that the subject had been discussed at length, probably more than once. Aunt Betty released her and smiled. Despite her teasing, this woman had already made her feel loved by her warm welcome. Jillian knew this woman would be easy to love in return. She felt she would have a friend—perhaps even an ally—in Aunt Betty. Her heart and her mind told her both would come in handy in the very near future.
“Well, my boy.” Aunt Betty turned back to Dalton. “I suppose you’d best hand that boy back over and go find that stubborn child of yours.” She took Brenn from his arms. Brenn made a sound of protest, but she paid him no mind. “It is gettin’ late. I made up some supper to send home with you.” She glanced back at Jillian and smiled. “Figured you’d be plum tuckered out by the time ya got here, dear, and I reckon you still have your evening chores to do, Dalton.” She motioned Jillian to follow her. “Come on into the house with me, Jillian, and grab the children’s things while I gather up your supper.”
Jillian obediently followed her into the house, adoring the woman already. Lisa was close at her heels, while Dalton headed in the direction Jenny had disappeared. Their things, along with dinner, were packed in the wagon long before Dalton and Jenny returned. Aunt Betty excused herself to go back inside the house to get their own dinner finished up. Her husband, Ned, had made an afternoon trip into town and would be returning home shortly.
Rather than wait in the wagon, Jillian sat down on the porch. Little Brenn was sleepy again and rested his head against her right shoulder as she patted his back. Lisa had taken the opportunity to snuggle up under her left arm. She began humming a soft melody she remembered hearing somewhere. Her arms felt full and warmed by the tender souls tucked safely there. She smiled peacefully to herself.
Dalton came around the corner of the house, dragging a reluctant Jenny behind him. All at once, he came to an abrupt halt.
Jillian sat on the front porch steps with his two youngest children. Brenn was sleeping soundly on one shoulder, while Lisa was nodding off, snuggled under her other arm. The feeling of déjà vu came over him. How much more could his heart take? In a flood of emotions, he was taken back in time once again.
“Dalton!” Laurellyn came running out through the door as he headed through the gate.
“Whoa!” he called to the horses and brought the wagon to a halt. He wondered what he had forgotten, and then he saw the pail in her hand.
“Dalton!” she called again. She was out of breath by the time she reached the wagon. “You forgot your lunch.” As she reached up to hand it to him, Dalton bent down and with hardly any effort at all, lifted her up and set her on his lap. By her smile, he knew she’d caught the look of mischief in his eyes.
“So you decided to come with me after all, did you?”
Laurellyn playfully punched him on the arm. “Now, Dalton McCullough, you put me down this minute. You know I can’t go with you. I promised Aunt Betty I’d help her put up beans today.” She sighed. A whole day in the kitchen would be sheer torture for her. She loved to raise vegetables and fruit, but cooking and canning them, well, those were all very different things to her.
“Well, seeing as you came running out this way, why don’t I make it worth your while?” He winked and wrapped his arms around her a little tighter. She giggled and snuggled in a little closer. Just then Jenny came barreling down the walk. Reluctantly, he loosened his hold. “Well, my lady, you were saved from your devouring . . . I mean, devoted husband by a four-year-old chaperone with a keen sense of the wrong time to interrupt.” She laughed and kissed his cheek, and he let her back down to the ground.
“I’ll be back about an hour or so before sunset.” Smiling, he added, “Have fun with Aunt Betty today!” Dalton watched as she visibly cringed before he chuckled and drove the wagon away.
He was driving into Darlington to buy supplies and some new equipment for the farm. Most of his trips went by without incident, but this trip wouldn’t prove to be one of those times. It was fraught with problems from the beginning. A little over halfway there, Old Decker was spooked by a rattler that had ventured onto the road, and the horse bolted, dragging the other horse along. Dalton quickly got both horses under control, but not before the wagon had veered off hard to the left. The rim was knocked loose from the back left wheel when it hit a rock in the ditch.
“Confounded horse,” he grumbled. “You’re always spooking too easily for your own good.” Years ago, his father had bought Old Decker as a favor to an old gambler who was passing through town and was down on his luck. The horse had been old then, but hadn’t minded hard work—an important requirement for farm life. When he was finished with the harvest come summer, Dalton had already decided that he would have to start looking for another horse. It was time to put Old Decker out to pasture. He was getting too lazy and stubborn in his old age. It had taken Dalton an hour to patch the wheel well enough to get him the rest of the way into town.
When Dalton had finally made it to Darlington, it hadn’t been easy to find a blacksmith that was both reasonable and available to fix the wheel in a relatively short amount of time. As he waited for the repair, he purchased the items he had come for; walking them one at a time back to the blacksmith’s to load them into his wagon. The sun was already setting when he left town and headed for home.
With the trouble-filled day finally almost over, he was both frustrated and exhausted when he turned the wagon into the gate and started up to the house. His family hadn’t noticed his arrival yet, so he brought the wagon to a stop as he contemplated the scene before him.
Laurellyn was perched on the porch and strands of her long blonde hair were lifting in turns as the light breeze caught beneath them. It almost had an ethereal look to it. One-year-old Lisa was snuggled up under her chin, and Jenny was leaning on her lap, listening intently. He could hear the faint but beautiful musical strains of a melody carry over to him on the breeze.
Suddenly, she looked over at him and their gazes locked. The love that passed between them at that moment was so pure, so strong; he could feel the bands that tied their hearts together pulling him even closer to her. A feeling of knowing and belonging washed over him. A feeling of “coming home.” Something whispered then and confirmed what he already knew: this was his heaven on earth.
As Dalton stood looking at Jillian and he heard the soft melody she was humming, the same feeling had overcome him. At once, he put up his defenses to fight against it. In a futile attempt to hold back the new emotions, he reached into his pocket and desperately closed his fingers around Laurellyn’s cameo for the second time that day. Laurellyn is my home, he reassured himself. His heart was hers and hers alone.
“Jenny!”
Startled, Jillian stopped humming and looked up when she heard Dalton’s voice. He was looking directly at her, seemingly frozen in place, and Jenny was standing a few feet behind him. His voice was tinged with frustration, but the look on his face was painful.
“Go get in the wagon!” he called over his shoulder at his daughter. Jenny made no move toward the wagon, and this time Dalton turned to look at her when he
spoke.
“Jennifer Laura McCullough.” He hadn’t raised his voice, but Jillian could tell he meant business. “You go get in the wagon this minute.” The little girl was stubborn, for sure. Jillian could see she was trembling, but she wore a look of sheer willpower and determination.
For a moment, Jillian thought Jenny would remain standing where she was, but then her stubborn look broke and she walked toward the wagon. Jenny climbed in, but not before sending Jillian a venomous glare. Then she sat down hard, with her back to her family.
Just as Jillian stood up to walk over to the wagon herself, Aunt Betty came back out of the house. Jillian could tell Aunt Betty was assessing the situation with a quick sweep of her eyes. She turned to Jillian and gave her an encouraging smile and then turned and spoke to Dalton.
“Well, you seem to have found Jenny all right. You best be gettin’ on home now.” To Jillian, she added, “I’ll drop on by in a few days to check on how you’re doin’ and see if I can help you out with anything.”
Jillian nodded and smiled her thanks before taking Lisa’s hand and heading over to the wagon, still carrying the sleeping Brenn in her arms. As she walked, her eyes were drawn back to Dalton’s pain-stricken face. Seeing that look of pain again made her suddenly apprehensive, and she quickly turned her own gaze back toward the wagon, but not before noticing the stern look and nod Aunt Betty gave Dalton in her direction. He was at her side in an instant, lifting little Lisa in the wagon beside Jenny and taking Brenn from her as he helped her up on to the wagon seat. She noticed, however, that he tried to keep their contact as brief as possible and avoided looking into her eyes.
The Widower's Wife Page 6