“What’s next?”
“Your room.”
“My room? We already have the big pieces. We don’t have anything from your room, yet.”
“I know. That’s okay. Why don’t you rest for a minute? This has to be hard on the baby.”
Adam started to walk back inside the house and Millie hurried to follow. “Adam, wait.”
He stopped and looked at her, but his face did not betray any impatience.
“We can’t take all of my things and none of yours.”
“Millie, I don’t care about my stuff. I understand why you want me to take it. But I don’t need it. I just need you and the children to be safe and happy. That’s it. That is what I want most in this world right now.”
“But that’s not fair. I didn’t even have most of the stuff in that room a few months ago. I’m not attached to it. You’ve had your things for years. You can’t just leave it all behind.”
Adam walked to Millie. He looked at her for so long that she felt the urge to squirm. Adam lowered his head until his forehead was leaning against hers. “I’m sorry, Millie.” He raised his head, reaching out and caressing her cheek, resting his warm hand where it stopped cupping her chin.
She didn’t have breath left to speak. His touch took it all.
His other hand joined the first, and Millie found her face being cradled. His heat came through the bandages on his palms, and Millie closed her eyes, focused on the softness touching her skin.
“For our fight—I’m sorry. I took something that wasn’t mine to take when I read your notebook. You should be allowed to write down your private thoughts without having to worry about my reaction. No matter what they are. And I jumped to conclusions instead of talking it out with you. Even when I said that I was listening, and that I believed you, I didn’t. I used my love as punishment. I withdrew it at the first sign of trouble. That wasn’t me being practical, Millie. That was me being a coward.”
Millie’s eyes began to water, and breathing became even more of a struggle.
“In a way, this fire is a blessing. If it had been a fast disaster, I could have lost you and the kids without even the chance to say goodbye. That’s all I could think about on the way home. What if it had moved too fast for anyone to warn us? What if we had not seen the fire until it was too late? I would have so much regret, Millie. Regret that I treated you so harshly. Please, forgive me.”
Adam stood there waiting, still holding her face as through she was something precious and beloved. Millie stood there waiting, trying to come up with enough air to answer him. “I understand, Adam. And I’m sorry, too. We have a lot to talk about.”
He smiled and leaned down to kiss her forehead. It was a gesture Millie was coming to associate with this man. “Yes. But not now. We need to finish and get to town.”
Millie stood up straight, proud of her steady voice. “Adam, you still don’t have to leave all your things behind to make room for mine. I don’t want that kind of sacrifice. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life knowing you lost everything to prove a point to me.”
Adam’s own voice was solid. Unmovable. “It’s not just to make a point. It is the point. I will be happy if you and the kids have your things. All the kids. We’re getting the rest of the items from your room. Then we’re getting the cradle and baby clothes you’ve been working on. That should all fit nicely with the space we have left.”
Millie looked at him. He looked at her. Then he smiled, winked and walked away. Winked. The man was preparing for his house to burn down and he winked and trotted off like he was having the time of his life. Millie suppressed a snort. Lord, I think my husband might be officially crazy. Thank You?
* * *
Preparing to leave when they had both missed a night of sleep was hard, but it was about to get a whole lot harder. The wagon was loaded. The kids were still sitting like frozen deer, breaking Adam’s heart. But, the best thing he could do for them was get them into town. Get them safe, surrounded by friends. Away from this ever-thickening smoke.
Adam felt some of the tension leave his body when he heard a wagon approaching the house. That would be Edith in her own wagon. The livestock had left an hour ago. It was finally time to get his family on the road.
He waved to Edith. She wasn’t alone. Adam recognized the man driving the wagon as one of Mike’s hands. “Hi. Did you all manage to get most of it packed?”
She nodded, and Adam noticed her eyes were rimmed in red. Whether it was from the smoke or tears, he couldn’t tell.
“We’re set here, too. Millie’s inside—I just need to get her.”
Adam spoke to the kids as he walked up the front steps. “Okay, guys. You all are going with Edith and Mama. Make sure you have everything and get ready to load up.” Adam saw Edith climb down from the wagon and kneel in front of the kids as he walked inside the house. He was thankful yet again for good neighbors.
Millie was standing in the middle of the family room, looking at the furniture they couldn’t fit into the wagon. “I feel like we’re leaving all of the furniture here.”
Adam nodded slowly. “It looks that way, I know. But it will be much easier to replace a table and chairs than it will to replace most of the small stuff. I packed my tools on the wagon. I can easily remake everything here. It’ll be okay.”
Millie nodded, but she was biting her lower lip. There wasn’t really going to be a way to reassure her. He and Millie had gotten over their fight, but the base issues remained. She didn’t trust him to provide. To keep her safe. And she had been right about him not fully trusting her either—fear causing him to lash out at any hint that she might be considering leaving him. But he was learning to trust her. He was sending his children with her. Away from him. And he knew she would care for them with all she had. In his heart, he did trust her. Like her, he’d just been scared.
But there wasn’t time to deal with this right now. For now, they were together. Working as a unit. And in danger. Adam would do what needed to be done in this moment and have faith that there would be time to work the rest out later.
“Edith is outside. It’s time for you and the kids to head to town.”
“Me and the kids? What about you?”
“I’m not coming right away.”
Some of the color left Millie’s face and she leaned forward to grip the back of one of the chairs. “What do you mean?”
Adam walked over and gently pushed Millie down into the nearest chair. He squatted down in front and took her hands. “I want you and the kids to go to town with Edith. You all will be safe together, and you won’t be alone. I’m going to stay here and try to fight the fire. Stash things in the root cellar and collapse the roof. If there’s a thick enough layer of dirt as a barrier, it may protect them from the fire.”
“But what about the fire? What are you going to do when it gets here?”
“I’m keeping my horse. I’m going to keep working as long as it’s safe and then I’ll ride to town. I’ll be with you before nightfall.”
“Then we’ll stay and help you. If it’s safe for you, then it’s safe for us. And the work will go quicker with me to help.”
“No, Millie. The wagon can’t move near as fast as a single horse. Plus, that fire could turn unpredictable. Could start moving faster than we guess. Jump. I’m not taking that kind of chance with my family.”
“But you’re my family. You’re willing to take that kind of chance with yourself?”
He was her family? Adam gripped the arms of Millie’s rocking chair tighter, trying to steady himself. Her words were the truth. They had become a family the day they’d married. No one could doubt that she loved and claimed his children, but hearing Millie include him in the group she called her family shook him—and filled him with joy. He wanted to tell her how much her words meant to him, but he di
dn’t have time for it right now. That fire was coming.
Adam tried to soften his tone, but he wasn’t going to give in on this. “Yes, Millie. I’m your family. That’s why I’m going to do what I need to for all of us. I’m not going to do anything stupid, but I’m staying.”
Millie nodded and stood. She walked out the door without saying anything to him. Adam sighed and watched the door close behind her. God, I need help. We both do. He saw her notebook on the table and opened it up to where her list of scenarios had been. Ways that he could fail.
She never considered the ways that he might succeed. That they might succeed. That made a lot of sense, actually. Millie’s life so far had not exactly been an exercise in faithful hoping leading to positive outcomes. Instead, she had survived because she had prepared for the worst. Because she had adapted to every calamity she faced.
Every minute of her life must have seemed like an exercise in being self-sufficient. A deterrent to ever hoping for the best or relying on others.
And yet, Millie still tried. She truly did. She hadn’t been raised with loving parents who always provided like Adam had. She had not grown up going to church, hearing that the Lord loved her and was there for her. Adam had.
No, his Millie had absolutely no reason to even try to have faith. But, she did. And as her doubts arose, she dealt with them in the best way she knew how. The only way that had ever worked for her before in her life. She wrote it out. Looked the worst in the face.
Was that really any different from Adam praying about his doubts? No. It wasn’t. Acknowledging a doubt wasn’t the problem. Letting the doubt rule was where things went wrong. Running and hiding instead of staying and doing the hard work was the problem. Refusing to see things through, that was the problem.
But Millie wasn’t doing any of those things. She was right here, loving his children. She was here, supporting Adam. Making his life better. Letting him be a part of the life growing inside her womb.
Millie was just scared. Adam was scared, too. Instead of accusing her, he really needed to try to just be there with her and her fear. Not leave her alone with it.
Adam picked up the pencil and opened the notebook to the next clean page.
Option 1: The fire does not make it to our land. We are safe. We have our faith in the Lord and each other. We help others rebuild and live happily-ever-after. We praise God for all He has given us.
Option 2: The fire destroys everything, but we are safe. We’re together. We have our faith in the Lord and each other. We rebuild and help others rebuild and live happily-ever-after. We praise God for all He has given us.
Millie,
I lied when I said the reason I could never leave you was because I couldn’t take the children’s mother away from them. I could never leave you because I can’t take you away from me. The children are not the only ones who need you. I do, too.
Forgive me.
I love you.
Adam closed the notebook and took it out front. He saw Millie and Edith talking, the children sitting in the front of Edith’s wagon.
In Edith’s wagon?
“Millie?”
She turned and looked at him, hands on her hips. Wisps of hair had fallen out of her braid hours ago. The heat and sweat from loading the wagon had curled the strands, and they fell against her face and neck. While her pregnancy had not been visible when they married, it most definitely was now. Millie’s apron was dirty, and Adam saw a small tear in the sleeve of her shirt. Making his way back to her face, Adam noticed her lips were firmed in a stubborn warning.
She was beautiful. Not just beautiful. Millie was the fulfillment of a dream. She was the dark rich soil he turned by hand. The brown eyes of his cattle as they lumbered in the corral. This woman was a house full of laughter. Warm stew and hearty bread and pie. Children who were loved beyond being.
“Are you listening to me, Adam Beale? Because I meant every single word I said.”
Adam still stood there, awestruck. Millie wasn’t some resource he needed to make his dreams come true. She was his dream.
“Adam!”
He shook his head, a subtle movement that in no way reflected the jangling in his brain and heart. “Sorry, Millie. What did you say?”
Edith actually laughed out loud, but Millie never cracked a smile.
“I said that I am staying with you. Edith will take the kids to town, so they will be safe. But I’m not leaving this place without you.”
“Millie—”
“No. The only way you are going to get me to town is for you to take me. That’s just the way it is.”
Both children were looking at Millie like she had lost her mind. Genie’s eyes were huge and Caty’s mouth was actually dropped open. Edith looked like she wanted to sit back and just enjoy Millie telling Adam how it was going to be.
And the smoke was just getting closer and closer.
“Millie, be reasonable. You’re wasting time. I need you to go to town with the children.” Adam’s voice went husky, but he didn’t care. “Please.”
“I’m not leaving you, Adam. I’m not.”
Adam walked over to her, crossing his arms over his chest. Hers remained at her hips and from the way her skirt was bouncing, Adam would bet she was tapping her foot in frustration. Her face was set, almost like a mask. Except for her eyes. Millie’s eyes were shiny with tears. They were terrified. Desperate.
Adam breathed in, slow and deep through his nose. Then he released the breath. Give me the right words, Lord. Please. He uncrossed his arms and held out the hand not still holding her notebook. He smiled gently as Millie’s face went from blank mask, to shock, to wariness. Yet, despite her obvious confusion and hesitancy, she still put her hand in his.
Chapter Eighteen
Adam’s hand was firm as he led her to sit on the front steps. Firm, but not angry, even though she had clearly pushed her husband past the limits of his temper. Please, God. Please, he has to understand. He just has to.
They watched as Edith took the kids and led them out to look at something in the barn. She was a good friend. Millie hoped that she would have children of her own to care for soon. Edith and Mike wanted that, and they would be such good parents.
Adam didn’t let go of her hand once they were both sitting. Millie saw him set her notebook down with his other hand. What was he doing with her notebook?
“Millie, tell me why you want to stay. Help me understand.” Adam’s voice wasn’t the least bit accusing. He genuinely wanted to understand.
“I just want to help you. And I don’t like leaving you here alone. What would we do if something happened to you?”
“I have plans in place. There is money in the bank, set aside for you in case something happens to me, and I know you saw the box with extra cash from under my floorboards that I put into the wagon. Plus, you’ll own this land. Even if a fire destroys the buildings and the crops, you’ll be able to get a decent price for the place. And our friends would help you. They would. I’m not saying it would be easy, but you and the kids won’t be homeless. Won’t be broke. I promise.”
Millie felt frustration well up inside. It made sitting still next to him difficult. “I don’t care about losing the man who provides for me. I care about losing you—Adam.” Millie reached over and picked up her notebook. “I was out there with Edith. I put the kids in the front of our wagon and I climbed up, picked up those reins, and it just hit me.” Millie’s words were falling out fast and almost slurred, her fingers white where she gripped the notebook in her lap. Her chest was heaving, her breaths audible and ragged.
Adam placed a hand on her back and began to rub in soft circles. “What, Millie? What hit you?”
Millie swallowed hard. She gestured with her notebook. “This. I thought I wanted financial security. To leave this farm. To do so
mething safe. But that’s not what I want. When it came time for me to take my belongings and leave for safety, I felt like...like...well, I don’t even know what.”
Millie’s skin got tight just remembering. “My parents were teachers. My first husband was a shopkeeper. No crops, no drought, no fire. But disaster found them—took them from me. Both times. Even though I keep trying,” Millie raised her notebook again, “to control the future, to make myself safe, it’s just a lie. I’m not in control, and I never will be.”
She opened her notebook to that jagged edge that had held the page he’d read. “See this? I listed all the ways my world could be torn apart.”
“I know.”
“Well, I never listed prairie fire. In fact, I didn’t list hundreds of ways bad things could happen.” Millie put the notebook, still open, back on her lap. “I also didn’t list all the ways things could go right.”
Adam’s hand stopped rubbing in circles and just stayed still on her back.
“I can’t get on that wagon and go to town because I can’t leave you. I’m not just worried about my husband dying, I’m worried about the man that I love dying. The father of my children.”
Adam’s hand fell from her back. It felt like a rejection, but Millie made herself keep going. She was doing the exact opposite of what they agreed on just the night before—only moments before she saw the smoke in the distance—but she didn’t care. Millie was done trying to bend the world to her will. She was going where God led her, and He’d led her heart to Adam.
“I want to help try to save this place. I love it here, too. This land, it doesn’t just call to you. I want to be in this house, the first place where I ever felt like I belonged. I want my garden, the vegetables that are growing because I tended them. The food I’m growing to feed my family. I want to watch Caty and Genie run wild in the only place they’ve ever called home. I want this. And you.”
Millie picked up her notebook, started ripping out pages. “I don’t need this, Adam. I don’t need a fake life on paper. I need a real life. Here with you.”
Family of Convenience Page 20