Bluebonnet Bride

by Jillian Hart

  She would not let her heart grow sad. She had love in her life. She had beauty. She had more than she deserved.

  Linnea blinked against the harsh sun’s glare. The dust in the road had settled, and Seth was gone from her sight.

  From her life.

  From her dreams.

  * * *

  The days blurred together after that. Work kept her tired enough so that she couldn’t think about Seth. The apples came ripe and, with Mama feeling poorly, she did all the work herself. The drying, the canning. Making applesauce, apple butter, apple preserves and cider. Then there was the garden.

  She tumbled into bed well after midnight only to rise before dawn. Exhaustion turned out to be a good way to keep Seth Gatlin off her mind.

  “I feel better today,” Mama insisted. “I can help.”

  “You will do as the doctor orders and rest.” Linnea swiped a wisp of hair out of her eyes and continued cutting the kernels from the cob. “I’m almost done with the corn. After I set this last bit out to dry, I’ll get supper ready. Do you want corn tonight or green beans?”

  “Both are always a treat. They taste so good fresh from the garden.” Mama stumbled, then pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “Goodness, I need to sit a spell, I guess.”

  “Are you all right?” Linnea dropped the knife and raced around the table.

  Mama was wobbling, reaching out blindly for something to hold on to. Linnea caught her elbow and wrapped her arms around her mother’s frail body.

  How little she felt, like a fallen bird, trembling and weak.

  Mama mumbled, her words slurring together, and lost consciousness.

  * * *

  “Ginny, this is for the best.” Seth’s week had been hard enough and the last thing he wanted was for his sister to break down over what couldn’t be helped.

  He laid the signed paperwork on the kitchen table. “You’re free of the second mortgage Jimmy took out before he skipped town. I own the land.”

  “I suppose you’ll be collecting the rent money from now on.” She bowed her head but looked through her lashes at him. “And rent from me, too?”

  “I’ll let you live in the house for as long as you need. I won’t charge you a cent. I promised I’d help you, and I will. But you have to help yourself. You’ll have to take a job in town.”

  “A job. How can I do that? I have Jamie to raise. He’s so sickly in the winters with his weak lungs.”

  “You can work while he’s in school.”

  “And when he’s sick?” Her mouth pursed into a thin line and she launched out of the chair, hands fisted, skirts snapping. She halted at the window, breathing hard, staring out at the apples falling from the trees. “I won’t live like this. With a house tumbling down around my ears and my son wearing secondhand clothes.”

  “We’ve had a dry summer and you know it. I put in two wells to irrigate and the wheat crop is half what it should be. We won’t see the profit we had hoped for.”

  “It’s not fair. I don’t deserve this.”

  “I didn’t see you out there digging a well and I didn’t see you pounding timbers for a windmill.”

  “I had Jamie to take care of.”

  “Then you wasted your time because you’re doing a damn poor job of it.” He was tired and his temper flared. “I’ve worked nonstop since I’ve been here, and I haven’t asked for a dime. I’ve put in wells, planted your fields, fixed your fences, buildings and rental house and bought you a cow. This land sale is a good deal for me, not for you, but it’s still better than your alternatives.”

  “You mean you’d put me out? Just like that. You said you’d help me. Isn’t that just like a man?”

  “I’m giving you a house rent-free. You make your own opportunities from here. For better or worse. That’s it. Get a job. Take care of your son. Put up beets and apples and make jam. Fix up your house.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Rage burned inside her and she tried to contain it. She didn’t want to make Seth any angrier. “I thought you were going to help me sell the grain and hay. Even find a buyer for the land. I would have money for a nice little house in town. It wouldn’t be fancy, but at least it wouldn’t be here in the country—”

  “Seth!” A woman shouted from the backyard. “Seth!”

  Linnea Holmstrom ran into sight, her sunbonnet hanging down her back, her face red from exertion.

  Seth took one look at the terror in her eyes and his heart stopped. He knew why she was here.

  “It’s Mama. She lost consciousness for a few minutes. Will you ride for the doctor?”

  He was already running full bore. “Get back to her, Linnea. I’ll have the doc there as fast as I can. Trust me.”

  “I do.”

  Whatever had happened between them, her words lit his hope. She depended on him. She needed him. She’d come to him.

  He whistled and General lifted his head, pricking his ears. Like old times, the stallion loped toward him. He didn’t take time for a bit or saddle. Just hopped on the horse’s back and took off through the fields.

  * * *

  “Seth is bringing the doctor, Mama.” Linnea wrung water from the cloth and folded it in thirds. “He’s riding that fast stallion of his, so he should be back in no time.”

  “S-Seth,” Mama slurred, smiling slightly with only one half of her mouth.

  “We can count on him.” It had been a long time since she’d had a neighbor to rely on. Whatever happened, she was over her heartache. From this moment on, she’d be grateful—not sad—that Seth was their neighbor and their landlord.

  She laid the cool cloth on her mother’s brow. “Is that better?”

  Mama could only nod. Her eyes drifted shut. She lay so still she didn’t look as if she were breathing. There seemed so little of her left beneath the sheet.

  Was she going to die?

  “Don’t leave me, Mama. Please.” She laid her hand on her mother’s. “Don’t go to Papa yet.”

  Silence filled the room. Linnea slid her fingertips to the inside of Mama’s wrist so she could feel the faint pulse, slow and irregular.

  Horse hooves drummed outside. She raced through the house, but Seth had already opened the door, standing aside to let the doctor through.

  “She’s in the bedroom.” Linnea pointed to where Mama lay so still.

  “What happened?” Seth’s hand curled around her nape, his touch comforting. Infinitely comforting.

  It was a comfort she didn’t deserve and she stepped away. “Mama was dizzy and had a terrible headache. I need to see if the doctor needs anything.”

  “I’ll help. I’ll stay by your side.”

  His honor touched her, arrowing past the fear she felt for her mother. Why was he being so good to her? She’d treated him harshly and hurt him, and still he would help her.

  “I’ve been keeping cold presses on her forehead,” she told the doctor.

  Grim faced, the medical man nodded his head. “That brought her comfort, I’m sure. Seth, take Linnea outside and calm her down.”

  “I am calm!”

  “No, you’re not.” The doctor said it kindly as he brushed past her. “The last thing your mother needs is to sense how upset you are. You can help her best by staying out of the way and getting hold of your emotions.”

  “But she’s my mother. I can’t leave—”

  “It would be best.” The doctor pumped water into the basin and reached for the soap. “Seth, take her outside.”

  “No.” They weren’t going to send her away, not when Mama needed her. Mama was confused and in pain and maybe dying. “She can’t be alone.”

  “I’ll be with her. If there’s a serious change, I’ll let you know.”

  “Come, Linnea.” Seth’s touch was heaven’s comfort as he drew his arm around her waist. His touch, the contact of his body to hers, made her feel as if she wasn’t alone. “We’ll wait outside for a few minutes. Let the doctor do his work.”

  “I’m the one
who takes care of her.” Linnea glanced at the open doorway. She could see her mother’s gray curls on the pillow. “It doesn’t look as if she’s breathing.”

  “The doctor knows what to do, Linnea. He has a medical degree.” Wise words, tenderly spoken.

  How could she resist? He made her weak when she should fight. He made her melt until there was only her true self, afraid and alone and vulnerable.

  “I can’t bear to leave her.” She pressed her face into his chest.

  “I know. We’ll let the doc do his work, and then we’ll sneak back in. Doesn’t matter if he likes it or not.”

  Light was bleeding from the sky in the long, slow dance of a late summer’s sunset. The world went on as it always did, the calves and yearlings meandering out from the shade of the barn to graze. The family of goldfinches in the tree trilled happily as the fat babies practiced their flying.

  “It feels like any other day. Except my mother could be dying.”

  Seth’s arm tightened around her waist. He said nothing. There was nothing to say. No words could comfort her. The sweet prairie breezes fanned her face as they did every night, and the swallows argued in the barnyard as they bathed in the dust.

  Like any other day.

  “Maybe she’ll be all right. Maybe it’s just a spell. She gets smaller ones now and then. She recovers from them.”

  “It’s possible.”

  They both knew it was more serious than that. More serious than even the doctor had let on.

  “You might as well go home.” She lifted her chin, refusing to be weak when she had to be strong. “I appreciate your riding to town.”

  “I’m glad you came to me.” His arm tightened around her waist. His free hand covered hers. “I like knowing that you need me.”

  “I don’t need you.” It was a lie, and it was the truth. She wasn’t going to lean on a man who wasn’t hers.

  “Too bad, because I’m staying. A man doesn’t leave when the going gets tough. Especially when it involves the woman he loves.”

  “You can’t love me.”

  “It’s not something you get a voice in. It’s something my heart decided all on its own.”

  “I don’t love you.”

  “Now that’s something I don’t believe.”

  He held her, simply held her, as the blue of the sky faded and the sun turned to flame at the western horizon. Streaks of fire raked through the clouds, turning them crimson and purple.

  A beautiful sunset on this day unlike all others.

  “I can’t wait any longer.” She tried to get up.

  Seth held her firm. “Give the doc a little more time. He seems like a smart man to me.”

  “Mama could be afraid. She might need me.”

  “I’m sure she does.”

  “She’s alone and it’s my fault.” She hated the truth that felt as dark as the shadows creeping across the prairie. “It’s my fault that my father isn’t here for her. I took care of her the best I could, but it can never make up for what I did.”

  “Shh.” He pressed his lips to her temple. “Your mother’s going to be all right. We’ll keep believing that until we know otherwise.”

  How could he be like this? So wonderful and stubborn and true? He couldn’t love her, she wouldn’t let him.

  “I have to go.” She ripped away from his side. “Excuse me.”

  “Linnea.” He caught her on the porch, his hand at her elbow, his strength greater than hers. “Don’t go in there like that. The doc wanted you calm. For your mother’s sake.”

  “I can’t help her sitting out here.”

  “You can’t help her like this.”

  “Then what do I do? Sit idle? I’m responsible for her. I’m the reason she’s alone and I live with that every day of my life. Let me go, because you wouldn’t be holding on to me if you knew the truth.”

  “I’d always want to hold you.” He seemed so certain of it, this man and his unfailing love.

  What did it take? She twisted away from him, but she slammed into something equally solid in the shadowed threshold.

  The doctor.

  Fear iced her veins. She stumbled back, grabbing the rail for support. “How is she?”

  “She’s had a stroke. We’ll need a few days to know how extensive it’s been. She needs complete rest. I mean, complete. No upset.”

  “I can be calm,” she promised. “I’m going to be calm.”

  “I know she’s all you have, Linnea.” The doctor’s kindness hurt worse and made her feel weak against his strength.

  She took a deep breath. Night came quietly as the light drained from the sky. “I’m calm.”

  “All right. Come sit by her side.” The doctor disappeared into the shadows.

  “Figure I’ll stay, too. Just in case you need a shoulder to lean on.”

  “I’ve done enough leaning.” She longed for the shelter of his arms, but she could stand on her own two feet. Her mother had taught her that. “Good night, Seth.”

  She slipped away before he could reach for her, leaving him alone in the dark.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Linnea had never seen a more beautiful sight than her mother awakening the next morning. “Mama, it’s me.”

  “D-dotter.” She slurred a little and her smile was still one sided. Tears traced down her cheeks.

  “I don’t want you to worry.” She brushed the tears away with her thumb. “The doctor says you’re going to be fine. You need complete rest, so don’t think about trying to get out of this bed to bake him a pie.”

  More tears trailed down her face.

  “That’s right. No pie baking for a few days at least.” The doctor approached, his face marked with weariness. “Linnea, why don’t you go boil some tea water for your mother? I’d like some time alone to examine her.”

  “I’ll be right back, Mama.” Linnea hated leaving. Hated the frightened look in her mother’s eyes. It was tough leaving the room, but the doctor was kind and competent.

  How bad was the stroke? She burned her finger on the match and spilled water twice, dreading what the doctor would say.

  A rap at the door shot through the quiet house, and she dropped the measuring spoon. It clanked against the counter, spilling tea leaves.

  “Sorry about that.” Seth ambled in. His face was lined with exhaustion, but he stood tall and straight, as strong as ever. “I suppose you didn’t expect me so early.”

  Seeing him made her feel more brave. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “I saw smoke from the stovepipe and figured it wasn’t too early to see how your mother’s doing.”

  “She’s awake. Better.” Linnea swept the loose tea into her hand. “The doctor’s with her.”

  “I brought over my horse and buggy. Put them in the barn for you. They’re yours to use as long as you need them.”

  “No. That’s not right.” Linnea tapped the spilled tea into the ball and snapped the lid. “Your stallion alone is worth more than I make in a year. I can’t accept. It’s not right.”

  “Is it right to expect your mother to walk to town? Even if she recovers, she won’t be strong for a long while.”

  “My mother is my responsibility.”

  “I want her to be mine.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you want.” Linnea lowered the ball into the teapot, temper flaring.

  He was tenderness and caring and the kind of unyielding strength she needed. Everything she couldn’t have. Fueled by fear and exhaustion, she poured steaming water into the pot and slammed the kettle back on the stove. “Outside. Now.”

  He hesitated at the door. “Linnea, push me away all you want. I’m not going to budge. I’m here for good. There’s nothing you can do to change that.”

  “Not one thing? Are you sure about that?” She rushed onto the porch and skidded to a stop. “Come out and stay out. I’ll lock the door if I have to.”

  “Pushing harder won’t send me away either. Look.” He gestured to the top step. Soft
blue blossoms lifted slightly with the breeze. “Looks like your secret admirer has returned.”

  “He’s no admirer. He’s a thickheaded, overbearing mule.”

  “Maybe, but he’s a man in love with you. Forever, Linnea. For better or worse.” His hand lighted on her shoulder.

  “You say that because you don’t know. I thought your sister might have told you before now. Or any of the neighbors.” She slipped away from his touch, his wonderful touch she didn’t deserve, and scooped the flowers into her arms.

  “Told me what?”

  “That I had a baby outside of marriage.” She couldn’t look at him. The kindness and respect would fade from his face, the love from his eyes.

  “What baby?”

  “The one buried on the rise behind the house, next to my father. They died within a month of each other. Papa from a broken heart, and my baby from an early birth.” She squared her shoulders, prepared for his disdain. “That’s how I cost my family nearly everything. My father died, my son died, and we had to sell the homestead. So now that you know, you might as well take your horse and leave.”

  She turned her back so she couldn’t see him walk away. Couldn’t see the tenderness in his eyes fade. This is the way it has to be, she told herself, staring hard at the flowers he’d brought her. She ran her fingertips over the delicate blossoms, the last of the summer’s bluebonnets. A reminder that everything had its season.

  Everything came to an end.

  Seth didn’t leave. “You thought I knew about the baby. When I came calling, you thought I already knew.”

  “Everyone knows how I was dumb enough to believe a boy, not a man, when he said he loved me. He was the McIntyres’ son—”

  “Not Jimmy?”

  “Yes, Jimmy. He’d broken up with Ginny and took an interest in me. I felt so honored when he paid attention to me. He was from one of the finest families in town. He was handsome and dashing and bold. He charmed me so thoroughly, a foolish country girl, that I saw forever when I looked at him.”

  She shook her head, bitterness sour on her tongue. “I know what I did wrong. Believe me. I was always dreaming and that led me to the biggest mistake of my life.” She marched toward the steps, overwhelmed by pain and embarrassment. “The tea’s steeped by now. I have to get back to my mother.”