by Jillian Hart
Such a dear lady. Seth offered her his hand, but Fred Hudson was faster.
“She’s my wife. We are newly married.” He smiled, a contented man. “It’s my job to help her.”
“He spoils me.” Eva beamed, settling her pretty skirts on the seat. “Oh, hurry, young man. I have not seen my Elsa since baby Linnea was two months old. You cannot drive these oxen fast enough.”
Fred laughed. “Such is my Eva. We’ll get there in good time, love. And then you’ll never be apart from your sister again.”
Seth gathered the reins, ordering the oxen forward. The wagon bucked and groaned with the heavy load in back. He considered Fred’s comment. “Are you moving here?”
“Us? Goodness, no.” Eva clasped her hands. “Frederick has his business in Oregon. We cannot move.”
Foreboding snaked down Seth’s spine.
“We will be moving my Elsa and her Linnea back with us. All these years we have not had the money to visit, and Elsa could not return to us after her Olaf died. Now after all these years, I have Frederick, who gives me the gift of my sister.”
Seth didn’t know what to say. Surely Linnea wouldn’t be going. He liked Mrs. Holmstrom. He’d consider it an honor to provide for her. But if she wanted to go to live with her sister, then he’d make sure Linnea could visit as often as she liked.
The cold shiver down his spine remained.
* * *
“Mama, there’s a chill in the air.” Linnea hovered at her mother’s elbow in case she tripped. “Stay in the house until it warms up.”
“I love autumn.” Her cane tip thumped against the wood floor. “I will sit here and cause you no trouble.”
“You’re no trouble, Mama, but I want you to stay inside.”
“I have been in the house for so long. I cannot bear it a moment longer. Please. I wish to feel the prairie breezes and imagine where they’ve been.”
“All right.” Linnea pushed open the door. “I’m going to check on you. If you seem cold, then I’m ordering you in.”
“You do not need to fuss over me, my flicka.”
“What fuss? I’m only taking care of my lovely Mama. Sit here.” She pulled two chairs onto the porch and led her mother to one of them.
“I can hear the leaves rattling along the ground. Where did summer go?” Mama sank into the cushioned seat still dressed in her nightgown. “Oh, too much time has passed without me. Time. It is slipping away from me.”
“Don’t fret so, Mama.” Linnea fetched the blue shawl and settled it around Mama’s fragile shoulders. “Let me pour tea and we’ll talk.”
“Go back to your work. I am burden enough.”
“You are no burden, Mama.”
“I wish to be alone.”
The stroke had brought about a melancholy that worried Linnea.
She returned to the kitchen and filled enamel cups with steaming tea. The dough had a little more rising to do, so she grabbed Jane Eyre from the shelf, set the book on the wooden tray, and headed out into the bright sunshine.
“Here comes the major.” Mama perked up, turned toward the road. “He has his wagon loaded heavy. He is always keeping busy, that one. A sign of an industrious man.”
Seth. She turned to greet him, her spirits lifting at the sight of his familiar smile. But he wasn’t alone. A man and a woman sat beside him on the seat. A woman who looked like—The tray slipped from her fingers and clattered to the empty chair seat. The book thudded to the floor.
“Goodness, child, are you all right?”
Linnea blinked, but the woman seated beside Seth was still there and still looked exactly like her mother. It had to be—no, it couldn’t be. “Aunt Eva?”
Mama stiffened. “What did you say, dotter?”
“It’s Aunt Eva.” Linnea took Mama’s arm. “Come, let’s greet them.”
“You jest. Surely my sister could not come all this way. The expense!” Mama rose shakily, searching for her cane. “Major, is that you? Linnea says you are not alone—”
“Elsa!” The frail gray-haired woman practically leaped from the wagon the instant it stopped. “Elsa! You are well.”
“Eva?” Mama clutched the rail. “Eva. How can it be—?”
“I was so worried—” Aunt Eva flew up the steps. “But now I can see for myself. The fears I had!”
Mama opened her arms and her sister ran into them. Like two peas in a pod, they hugged tearfully.
Tears streamed down Mama’s face. “I cannot believe you have come. After all this time.”
“Over twenty-five years, my sister. And my babies are grown, too. Look at your Linnea.” Aunt Eva swiped the tears from her eyes with her daintily gloved fingers. “Oh, she is a beauty. Just like her mother.”
“I’m so glad you’ve come to visit.” Linnea hugged her mother’s sister for the first time.
“And this is my new husband, Frederick. He brought me here just to see you, Elsa. To take care of you.”
“I cannot believe this good fortune.” Mama collapsed into her chair, still crying, shining with happiness. “Welcome, Frederick. I am so very pleased to meet you.”
Linnea felt Seth’s fingers on her sleeve. He touched her secretly as the sisters talked.
“I plan to start building today,” he whispered.
“I’ll bring you a lunch.”
His eyes twinkled with a devilish glint. “I’d like that. A man can get mighty hungry.” He wiggled his brows.
“You are a naughty man, Seth Gatlin,” she scolded him in a whisper. But her body melted as if he’d kissed her a thousand times.
“I’ll bring in the chairs,” he told her. “They’re going inside. I expect they have news to share.”
“We do, too.” She snatched the tray and the fallen book.
Seth grabbed the chairs and followed her into the house. Claire was scrambling to clear the table of the ironing board and the stack of sheets. Frederick helped her with quiet courtesy. Aunt Elsa aided Mama across the room and to her place at the table.
How amazing to see them together, identical faces shedding identical tears. And smiling identical smiles. They sat side by side, chatting as if they’d never been apart. Mama radiated pure joy, something Linnea hadn’t seen since her father died.
“I’ll pour the tea,” Claire offered, lending a hand. “Look, the bread is ready.”
“If I pop that in the oven, we’ll have fresh bread for lunch.” Linnea thanked Claire for her help and then lifted the cloth over the bread bowl.
The soft yeasty dough ballooned over the rim, and she fisted her hand and plunged it into the center.
Her ring! Dough was stuck to it like glue. She pulled the golden band off her finger and set it on the windowsill. The diamond winked at her.
Using flour to coat the breadboard, she divided the dough into fourths and rolled each into balls. The merry chatter of the sisters filled the house like music. Sweet and uplifting. Frederick sat at the table, simply watching them.
“I’ve got to get working.” Seth headed for the door. He said his goodbyes, and the sisters stopped talking long enough to wish him well, then went right on chatting.
Seth chuckled, his gaze finding her. Linnea longed to blurt out her news right there, but she’d wait until the room was a little quieter. Tenderness shone in Seth’s eyes, and then he tipped his hat to her and was gone.
She’d pack him a lunch today and meet him in the field. On their knoll. She would definitely remember to bring a blanket this time. The ground wasn’t the most comfortable place to make love, but she wasn’t about to complain. Soon she would spend every night in his bed.
After rolling the first bread loaf, she took care to pinch the ends into a tight seam, happy to be working, half-listening to the sisters talk.
Aunt Eva’s voice lifted and fell. “...beautiful land. With two houses.”
“Two houses! What wealth he must have.”
Linnea placed the loaf into a bread pan and reached for the second section of sti
cky dough.
“The second house is a darling little cottage, as homey as can be.”
Linnea spread more flour across the board and reached for the rolling pin.
Aunt Eva thanked Claire for the tea and continued on. “The cottage has two ample bedrooms. There are big windows in every room to let in the sunlight. There is a porch to sit on and soak up the summer sun, and a rose garden like you cannot imagine. The house smells of roses from May to September.”
Linnea’s rolling pin faltered.
“To think that is only the smallest house!” Mama marveled. “I am so glad your life will be better now, my Eva.”
Linnea ran her hand over the curve of the rolling pin, brushing off bits of flour and dough. But she wasn’t paying attention to her work.
A spoon grated against enamel as Aunt Eva stirred sugar into her tea. “The cottage is just a few steps from my house. A little brick path goes from door to door.”
“Imagine that,” Mama marveled.
“Fred has offered the cottage to you and your daughter.”
“What?”
Linnea’s fingers slipped and the rolling pin crashed into the wall.
“Think of it, Elsa. We can be together again.”
“You mean for me to live in Oregon with you?”
“We have dreamed of being together again since you lost your Olaf.” Aunt Elsa took Mama’s hand. “Think of it. Your health is poor. You have never complained, but I can see how difficult it is for you here. You have had a stroke and are here without more family to help. We will take you home to Oregon and settle you into the cottage.”
“What about Linnea?”
“Linnea will come. How can you make do without your sweet girl? We can be together and talk all we like. We can sit on your porch and crochet together. Oh, Elsa, we are old and growing older every day. Come home with me, and let me care for you. Spend the days with me like we did when we were young.”
Fred cleared his throat. “Please come, Elsa. You’ll have a housekeeper so your daughter will never scrub another floor. You will want for nothing.”
“Charity, although kindly offered, I cannot accept.”
“But my Elsa! What is Frederick’s is mine, and what is mine I choose to share with my sister. Now make me happy by saying yes.”
Tears streaked down Mama’s pale cheeks. “How can I say no to my dear sister? How can I say yes? I need to speak to my Linnea.”
Chapter Sixteen
Linnea felt as hollow as a wooden toy. She took a shaky breath and waited while Aunt Eva and her husband excused themselves and headed out back to sit in the shade.
Linnea waited until the door closed. “Mama, you aren’t going to say yes to them.”
“It is so sudden. Frederick must be back to his work in a few days. I must decide now, Eva said. I believe I am strong enough to travel, and I will have you to help me. The question is, do I go with them?”
“Tell me what’s in your heart.” Linnea spoke past the pressure in her chest, a growing pressure that began to hurt. “What do you want, Mama?”
“I want both. I want to stay here in my beloved house Olaf built me. I want to go with my sister. I cannot have both.”
“No, you can’t.” Linnea knelt at her mother’s side and took her small hand.
“There are so many memories here. If I look hard enough, I can see the past. With you as a little girl dashing through the house and Olaf hitching the horses in the yard.” Her eyes gleamed with warm memories from the past. “But my sister is here and alive. I was afraid, dotter, when I had the stroke. Afraid not of dying, but of never saying goodbye to my twin sister. We are so close, even after all these years apart.”
Tears burned Linnea’s throat. “You want to go?”
“How can I stay? I do not know how much time I have left on this earth.”
Linnea thought of Seth. “Then you’ve decided.”
“I do not wish to leave here, but to be with my sister again!” Mama’s eyes filled with tears. “A door has closed on my life, but a window has opened. What do you think I should do?”
“What will make you happy?”
“Being with Eva.” Mama’s smile was young, so very young. “If we go to Oregon and live in Frederick’s second house, there will be a housekeeper. Imagine! My dotter will not have to work so hard to take care of me. Eva talks of a woman she employs who does nothing but cook! She will cook for us, too. Life will be easier for my girl.”
“Oh, Mama.” Linnea glanced at her ring on the windowsill. “Maybe I can see you settled in Oregon, but that is all. You won’t need me around if you have Aunt Eva and her housekeeper.”
“Not need you? My dear, I would wither without my sweet girl to take care of me. I need you more than anything.”
Her dreams shattered. Linnea collapsed into the closest chair. Did she tell Mama about Seth’s ring? How could she? Aunt Eva had offered Mama a house. She hadn’t offered to tend to her night and day.
Linnea thought of Seth. All he meant to her. All he offered her. “Are you sure you want to leave the house Papa built for you? You said before that you couldn’t leave. There are too many memories here. It would be like leaving him behind.”
“Your papa will come for me one day, and he will find me just as well in Oregon as he will here. You will come with me and we will find happiness in Eva’s little cottage.”
Linnea felt Seth, even though she hadn’t heard him approach. She saw him through the open door, standing in the yard in front of the steps, larger than life, her very own champion.
He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. She knew by the shock on his face and the sadness in his eyes. He’d heard every word.
He set Frederick’s traveling case on the porch, turned his back and walked away.
* * *
A cool wind whipped through the dry grasses. Linnea patted the oxen grazing near the wagon. “Seth?”
“Look in the wagon.”
She turned toward the sound of his voice, as cool as the wind. There he was, sitting on the ground, his forearms on his knees. The sunlight bronzed him as he stared out over the golden-brown plains. He looked so alone.
“Just look.”
She approached the shadowed vehicle, noticing the milled wood protruding from the wagon bed. The smell of freshly sawed lumber tickled her nose. So much expensive lumber.
“For our new house.” He stood, bracing his feet apart, planting his fists on his hips. “Figured if I got started right away, I’d have enough time to get a roof and walls up before the snow falls.”
The wind gusted, driving a tumbleweed between them. The weed clacked and rattled as it rolled away.
“I don’t know what to say, Seth.” She set the lunch pail on the lip of the wagon bed. “You overhead what Mama said. She wants to go live with her sister more than anything.”
“Then let her go. Travel with her. Get her settled. Then come back to me.”
“She doesn’t want me to leave her.” She took a breath that rattled as much as the tumbleweed.
“You promised to marry me.” How lost he sounded, as if he’d misplaced his heart. “You lay with me right here and gave me the right to love you.”
“I want to be with you more than anything.” She ran her fingers over the rough texture of the thick timber, one that might make the floor or the corner post of Seth’s house.
“Then tell me you aren’t going to leave. Say anything but that.”
“I wish I could, but I can’t lie to you.” She turned toward the spot on the prairie where Seth would build his house. “The love I feel for you is greater than anything I’ve ever known.”
“I’ll travel with you to Oregon. Help you get your mother settled. We could even get married there if you wanted. We’ll come back here and start our life together.”
She closed her mind against the pictures in her mind. Images she had no right to. Making curtains for the windows in his pretty new house. Waking up in bed together. Anticipatin
g a baby on the way.
Those are only dreams, she reminded herself. Like the thousand she’d had over the years. Fantasies without substance, easily blown away like dust on the wind.
“I have a duty to Mama. I can’t leave her. If she wants to go to Oregon, I have to go with her.” She said the words because she had to. “Why don’t you come with me? We can still be together.”
“I just sank nearly every penny I’ve ever saved into this land. Into your land.” He pulled her to him and kissed her temple, kissed the crown of her head, holding her tight. “I don’t have the money to start again.”
“I don’t care about marrying a wealthy man. We don’t need money to be happy.”
He grimaced. He tensed as hard as stone. “I can’t leave. I’d throw away everything for you. Except for my word. I have responsibilities, too.”
She closed her eyes. “Ginny.”
“I can’t leave her destitute. Even if I gave her the land, it’s not worth what I paid for it. She can’t sell it and she’ll never be able to farm it. She couldn’t support herself and her boy entirely on the income from any job she’d get in town.”
“You can’t leave. I can’t stay. What do we do?”
“You have your responsibility. I knew that from the beginning, but now your mother has her sister, Linnea.” He said it as gently as he could, but he couldn’t help the stubborn ball of pain wedging its way into his chest. “Why can’t you stay with me? Don’t you want to marry me?”
She buried her face in his shoulder. “I thought of that, too. Of leaving her with Aunt Eva. But she needs me. You heard her.”
“I did.” Truth was, he cared for Mrs. Holmstrom. He wouldn’t want to see her alone.
“She needs me. How can I turn away from her now? She could have died from that stroke. It could have been much worse. What if there’s a next time? I need to be there for her. To return to her all the love she’s given me.”
“I can’t let you go, Linnea. I’ve lost my heart once. Don’t make me go through that again.”
“She stood by me when I was pregnant. When Jimmy McIntyre walked away from me because he wouldn’t marry an immigrant’s daughter.” Tears wet her cheeks. “I was broken by the humiliation and the shame. And for feeling so stupid for thinking he was like a prince from a fairy tale when he was just a selfish boy.”