Wolf Creek Wedding

by Penny Richards

  Her heart breaking the tiniest bit, she said, “You aren’t William and you never will be.”

  Caleb looked as if she’d slapped him.

  Furious at herself for not saying the right thing, she leaped to her feet and leaned across the table. “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out the way I meant it to,” she said, earnest entreaty in her blue eyes. “What I meant to say is that you aren’t William and I don’t want you to be. I want you to be you. He was a good man, and you’re a good man, too. But you’re different, and that’s the way it should be.”

  She straightened and whirled away from him. As usual when she was upset, she began to pace. “I know you’re trying very hard, but I don’t want us to always be the unwanted family. I don’t want us to be a burden you have to bear for the rest of your life so that you spend every day trying to do what’s right.

  “I want you to do things with Ben that you both like to do. I want you to teach him all about farming and hunting, and the satisfaction that comes with a hard day’s work. I don’t want you to mimic what William and Ben had, I want you to build your own relationship with him, just as you’re starting to do.

  “I want you to help me in the kitchen, but only if you want to be here. I want you to keep on loving Laura and I want you to become comfortable with us in your life. I want to see you smile more, to hear you laugh.”

  She paused and looked at him. Her eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t try to hide them. “What I want, Caleb Gentry, is for you to be h-happy.” The last word was choked out on a sob.

  Before she realized what he was about, Caleb had risen and crossed the room to her, blocking her path. She stopped but refused to look up. To her dismay, he lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Pity, Abby?”

  “No!” she said with controlled vehemence. “Not pity, Caleb.”

  Tension vibrated from his big body as he searched her tear-drenched eyes for long, tense moments. Finally, the breath he’d been holding hissed out in a long sigh. Then without another word, he turned and strode for the doorway, nabbing his coat from the hook as he went.

  Oh, why, why couldn’t she learn to leave things alone? Why must she always have to open her mouth? Now, he probably suspected that she cared and he would not like that one little bit. “Caleb, wh—”

  He turned abruptly. “Shh,” he commanded softly, holding up a silencing finger.

  He didn’t look angry, she thought. He looked perplexed, or... Oh, she didn’t know how he looked! “Where are you going?”

  “To do the milking. It’s a holiday, so I’ll give Ben the day off. I won’t be long.” He took the lantern and a box of matches from a nearby shelf, opened the door, and let himself out.

  It was only after he’d gone that Abby noticed that he hadn’t finished his pie. Reaching for his fork, she cut an oversized bite for herself and chewed on it while her tears flowed down her cheeks. She took a sip of her coffee only to find that it had grown tepid. Feeling as if she were recovering from a bad bout of influenza, she rose, refilled her cup and fed another log to the fire, praying that her impulsiveness had not ruined the progress they’d made. Praying that she had not ruined his mood or the day.

  Then she sat down and finished his pie.

  * * *

  She had shed tears for him.

  Caleb milked the goat and thought about what a difference a day could make in someone’s life. His fear aside, Abby was different from any woman he’d ever known. He couldn’t pretend as he had the day before that he was attracted to her or that she and the children were working their way into his life. The truth was they had worked their way into his heart, and he loved her. Loved her as he had never loved Emily, as he had never expected to love anyone. Loved her as he had never imagined he could love.

  He wanted to keep her from ever hurting again, wanted to lavish her with everything his money could buy. Wanted to look up in ten or twenty or fifty years and see her sitting across the room from him, and know he was the reason for the smile on her face. He wanted Ben to look at him and feel the same love and respect he’d felt for William. He wanted Laura to look at him and see the kind of man she could use as a measuring stick when she sought her own husband. Dear God, I want them all to love me.

  The problem was that with that love came an overwhelming responsibility. It wasn’t just a feeling, it was action, and Caleb wasn’t sure how to make his prayer come true.

  Prayer? Had he just prayed? He didn’t think so, wasn’t sure. Maybe, though, he had let God know his feelings. What next? If he knew what to do to become a better husband and father, would it make a difference? Were there any guarantees that his feelings would be reciprocated?

  He thought Abby felt something for him, but was her desire to see him happy just her natural longing for things to be right for everyone, or were the tears she shed for him based on something more? How could he know?

  Caleb had no illusions about his past. He did not condone his mother’s actions, but if Libby Gentry had sought love somewhere else, it was only because Lucas had driven her away with his inflexibility, his disagreeable attitude and his acerbic tongue. Caleb had lots of memories of his soft-spoken mother crying tears of hurt and humiliation.

  This marriage was no business deal as he’d alleged when he’d proposed marriage to Abby. This was the lives of five people. It all boiled down to whether or not he was willing to risk opening himself up to change, to try to become the man Abby deserved.

  What if you do something to hurt them without meaning to? What if you can’t be all she wants in a husband?

  There was no way of knowing how it would end, but one thing was certain. He had come a long way in a short time. He wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was Abby. The best tactic was to take one day at a time and try to build on their shaky foundation. It was all he could do.

  * * *

  Abby was opening a particularly stubborn jar of green beans when he came back inside. One look at his rugged face told her that she needn’t have worried. Whatever he thought of what she’d said, whatever he felt about it, he was in perfect control, and she saw no animosity in his demeanor or his eyes.

  “No one’s up yet?”

  “No. Thank goodness.” She grabbed a dish towel and looped it over the top of the jar for a better grip. “I’d like to get things under control before I’m inundated with little people.”

  “I’ll get that,” he said, walking over and taking the can from her and giving the top a hard twist. “I’d open another if I were you. Frank and Leo have pretty good appetites, and it isn’t often they get to eat someone’s cooking other than their own.”

  “You’re right. I’m not used to cooking for three big men.”

  “You’ll never guess what I found in the barn,” Caleb said, opening the pie safe.

  “Probably not,” Abby agreed, dumping the beans into a pan and heading for the pantry for another.

  “Traps.”

  She turned. “Traps?”

  “Animal traps,” he said, with a nod. “What happened to my pie?”

  She changed the subject to hide her guilt. “Animal traps? For what?”

  “For Ben. I’ll teach him to trap and tan the hides and he can make himself a little money. I used to love to trap when I was a kid.”

  Abby looked at him with raised eyebrows.

  “Yeah. I know I said I didn’t do anything for fun, but I started thinking about it and I realized I did enjoy trapping, although it was primarily a way to earn some spending money, since my father was such a skinflint.”

  “And you think Ben will like it?”

  “I think Ben likes anything outside—even milking that ornery goat.”

  “Okay. Hunting and trapping.” Abby sighed. What next?

  Caleb placed his hands on his hips. “What did you say you did with my pie
?”

  Abby blushed. “I’m sorry. I ate it.”

  * * *

  The Thanksgiving meal was far different from those she’d shared with her friends and William, but it was enjoyable just the same. Abby had managed to get Betsy fed before the men came in, and thankfully she had fallen asleep. Laura’s chair sat next to Abby’s so that she could dole out spoons full of potatoes and fists full of green beans as the meal progressed.

  Ben gave thanks for the meal, while Frank and Leo sat with bowed heads, their eagerness to get at the food almost palpable. The older men ate with gusto, and though their manners left much to be desired, their lavish compliments on Abby’s culinary skills far outweighed her dismay. Still she barely suppressed a shudder when Frank reached out with his fork to stab another slice of turkey and Leo gave a loud belch after the meal. When she sneaked a glance at Caleb she saw amusement in his eyes. She also knew somehow that he would deal with the situation after the meal.

  One step at a time, she thought. At least the two men were entertaining. Frank regaled her with tales from Caleb and Gabe’s youth, though Abby saw the darkness gathering on her husband’s face whenever his brother’s name was mentioned.

  As had been a practice in the past, Abby asked that everyone at the table tell one thing for which they were thankful.

  Ben started. “I’m thankful for killing a turkey and for my new traps.”

  Abby smiled. “Leo?” she urged.

  “I’m thankful for this here fine food. It was truly delicious, Missus Gentry.”

  “Thank you, Leo,” Abby said, knowing the praise came from his heart. “Frank.”

  The older man sat there a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I’m thankful that you’ve come here, Mrs. Gentry. For the first time in many a year—maybe since Miz Libby left—this old farm has a good feeling about it.”

  Abby wondered if she could speak for the tears she felt tightening her throat. “Thank you, Frank. That’s very sweet.” Blinking hard, Abby’s gaze moved to the next person, who happened to be Laura. “Laura, love, what are you thankful for?” Abby asked.

  The baby, who had been chattering throughout the meal, and periodically trying to tempt Caleb with various squished food, smiled broadly, held out a handful of sweet potato and said as if she understood the question perfectly, “Dada.”

  Everyone at the table laughed, including Caleb. Sensing she was the center of everyone’s attention, Laura’s grin widened, and she smacked both hands down into the food smeared on her tray. “Dada,” she chortled again, as if to prolong her moment of recognition.

  Caleb was next. “I’m thankful for Laura, of course,” he said with a quick grin, “and for everyone else here at the table. Leo, you and Frank make my workload lighter, and Abby, you and the children have indeed made this house feel like home.”

  Abby swallowed and blinked hard and fast to hold back the incipient tears.

  “Mom, it’s your turn,” Ben prompted. “What are you thankful for?”

  Knowing she was the focus of everyone’s attention, Abby stared at her plate and tried to gather her thoughts. She was thankful for so much she hardly knew where to begin. Finally, she said just that.

  “But to be more specific,” she continued, looking at each of them, “I’m thankful that God brought me here when I was at such a low point in my life, and I’m thankful for each and every one of you.”

  Her gaze, filled with the love she could not speak aloud, rested on Caleb. “To second Laura, I’m thankful for Caleb. I’m very blessed.”

  Chapter Ten

  The cold two weeks following Thanksgiving raced by in a tumble of windswept leaves and dreary days of rain and fog. Considering the year had started out with such tragedy, it promised to end on a positive note. As usual, Caleb was unfailingly polite and helpful, but it seemed that he smiled more, and there was a relaxed, almost contented air about him that had not been present when she’d first come to his aid.

  With things going fairly well between Abby and Caleb, and a bit fearful the lingering grief over William’s and Emily’s deaths would cast a pall over the day, especially for Ben, Abby had decided to change tactics and ask both the Stones and the Emersons to Christmas dinner, reasoning that Daniel’s presence might make the day easier for Ben and that Bart and Mary might like spending the day with their baby granddaughter. At the very least, company might provide at least some distraction from everyone’s grief.

  Except for the day she and Caleb had gone to fetch her things from her old house, Abby had not been away from the house since she’d come to the Gentry farm. She longed for an afternoon free from the demands of children to be by herself and do some Christmas shopping, since for the first time she could remember, she had money enough to buy gifts without feeling guilty, thanks to Caleb’s generous household allowance. The problem was that she wasn’t certain how a shopping expedition could be accomplished short of leaving the children in Caleb’s care for an afternoon. He would balk, she knew, but the weather had been too miserable to get the girls out, which left no choice but to ask him.

  She waited until all the children were down for the night before she broached the subject.

  “I’d like to ask a favor,” she said.

  “If I can, certainly,” he replied, but there was a wary expression in his eyes.

  “Christmas will be here before we know it,” she said. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to have both the Stones and the Emersons for dinner. Company might make the day less difficult for us all, and with Danny here, Ben’s day might go easier.”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” Caleb agreed. “I’ll ask them the next time I’m in town.”

  Abby laced her fingers together. “I wanted to talk to you about that, too.”

  He hiked one dark eyebrow in question.

  “Except to get the last of our things from the farm, I haven’t been anywhere since Betsy was born.” She didn’t miss the stricken look on his face, as if he’d never realized that fact before.

  “I’m sorry. I never thought— I mean...”

  “I didn’t mention it to make you feel guilty, Caleb. It’s no one’s fault, but I was wondering if you would mind watching the children one afternoon so that I can buy a few gifts. It’s next to impossible to browse with three little ones—not to mention the surprise element. And the babies don’t really need to be out in this damp cold.”

  “You want me to watch them? Here? Alone?” There was no mistaking the panic in his voice.

  “It would only be for a few hours.”

  “But how will I handle the girls?”

  “Laura drinks from a cup and can eat almost anything soft. I’ll feed Betsy before I go, and if she begins to fret, you can give her some warm cow’s milk in the bottle Mary brought. As you said, we’re a family. What if something happened to me?”

  All the color drained from his face. “Nothing’s going to happen to you!” He bit out the words with chilling intensity, as if by doing so he could actually prevent it from happening.

  Abby understood that the burst of anger stemmed from his fear that history would repeat itself with her. “I’m sure you’re right, but nevertheless, you’ll never learn how to deal with them all if you don’t start somewhere,” she told him, her voice patient, but firm.

  “What if something happens to one of them while you’re gone?”

  “Nothing will happen.”

  He swallowed hard. “How can you be sure?”

  “Do you want me to yell it like you did?” she asked with a ghost of a smile. “Just to make sure?”

  He offered her a sheepish half smile. “I’m being foolish, aren’t I?”

  “Just a bit.”

  He blew out a deep breath. “I’m afraid I’ll do something wrong and hurt one of them...or something.”
>
  “Don’t you think that I’m afraid that something will happen every day?” Abby asked in a gentle voice. “Just because I care for them day after day does not mean I don’t do things that are wrong, and even potentially harmful.”

  “But you’d never hurt one of them,” he argued.

  “Neither would you.”

  “All right. All right.” The expression of panic in his eyes matched the shaky tone of his voice. “Only for a few hours. And it may as well be tomorrow, so we can get it over with.”

  “I’ll leave as soon as we have an early lunch and be back by dark,” she promised.

  “I want to go!” Ben cried when he found out she was going to town.

  “Not this time, Ben. I’m going to buy Christmas gifts, and I can’t buy yours if you’re along.”

  “But Caleb doesn’t know what to do if the babies start crying.”

  “You can help him. You’re very good with them both.”

  Knowing he was fighting a losing battle, Ben sighed. “Me and Caleb can’t stand too much of that squalling. It gets on our nerves.”

  “Caleb and I,” Abby corrected, trying her best to suppress a smile. She leaned down. “Guess what?” she whispered conspiratorially. “It gets on my nerves, too, sometimes.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “It will be fine, Ben,” she said, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I promise.”

  * * *

  After the noon meal, Caleb hitched up the buggy and helped Abby climb in, and after giving last-minute instructions on what to do, she headed toward town.

  Caleb watched her go with a feeling of doom closing in on him. He knew she was right, but how would he survive the next few hours with three demanding children when he had no clue what he was doing?

  Thankfully, once Laura’s belly was full, the heat from the fireplace soon made her eyelids droop, and she fell asleep in the pen contraption.