by Jenna Brandt
When she heard the knock at the door, Margaret took a deep breath and sat up straight in bed, preparing herself to make a concerted effort to engage with her husband.
“Come in.” Her voice was thick with forced cheerfulness.
Cort entered, carrying her usual tray with a meal of what appeared to be beef stew and fresh bread. The bread was no doubt sent over by Jackie as it had been for the last few months, but the soup could very well be a product of Cort’s hidden talent. Apparently, somewhere along the line, he had learned to cook, and Margaret hated to admit it, but he was actually quite good at it.
With her most endearing smile, Margaret praised his hard work. “That looks delicious. I cannot wait to try it.” Attempting to start a conversation, she added, “Did you make it?”
Cort raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Well, yes, actually. Sorry it is so basic, but I am limited in what I know how to make.”
She gave him a sly half smirk. “I am eager to know where you learned how to cook. I have a confession to make.” She paused to take a bite of the stew, closing her eyes to savor the taste. “You are a far better cook than I.”
He laughed. “I hardly think so. But I will take the compliment just the same. As for where I learned, well, you will never believe this.”
“Try me.”
“The Royal Army trained me to be a cook, before realizing I was better suited to serve as a scout for them.”
“That is it?”
“Pretty much, but I guess I was a far better cook than I thought, since I have managed to impress you.”
“Indeed you have.”
“Well then, that makes all those hours of slaving away over a huge hot stove in the bottom of a boat worth it, just to have this moment here with you.”
Margaret eyelids fluttered, masking how his compliment manifested an uncontrollable response to want to put her wall back up.
Reminding herself that she needed to act out love, Margaret raised her eyes to meet his and whispered softly, “Thank you.”
“You are most welcome.”
“Cort, I… I love you.”
Cort smiled at her. “I know. I have always known, no matter how it might have appeared.”
“I am glad for that, then. I have been awful as of late, and I am dreadfully sorry for that.”
“You do not need to apologize.”
“But I do. Maybe not for you, but I do for me. You see, I need to fix what is wrong with me, and I do not know why, but I feel I need your forgiveness.”
“You already have it, sweetheart. Nothing you could do will ever make me stop loving you, and with love comes forgiveness.”
Chapter 16
After that night, Margaret and Cort’s relationship slowly started on the road to healing. Their time together became less strained and more plentiful, as Margaret could be around her husband without being walled off.
Margaret was sitting by the window, sewing some baby clothes, when she felt a pain in her abdomen. Though strong, it was not sharp like the ones with Henry. It reminded her of when Sarah had told her what to expect. These felt like normal birthing pains.
“Henry, I need you to go tell your father it is time to get the doctor. The baby is coming,” Margaret shouted from her room.
She stood from the window, then leaned out and braced herself against the edge of the windowsill as another pang flashed across her body.
After the newest pain passed, she made her way over to the bed and reclined, waiting for the arrival of the doctor and Cort.
Lord, help me through this delivery. Protect me and keep the baby safe through the process. I need your strength to get through this.
The door flew open, with Cort standing on the other side. “Is the baby coming? Alfred was working with me, and he offered to go get the doctor so I could stay with you.”
Margaret tried to force a smile, but was certain it came across more as a grimace. Gesturing for him to join her, she said, “I think you will have a baby by day’s end.”
Taking her hand in his, he whispered, “Are you ready for this?”
“As long as it’s easier than my last time around, I think I can manage.”
Another jab of pain crashed over her, causing her to let out a loud groan. Embarrassed, she felt her cheeks tinge with heat. “I did not expect for that to come out so loud.”
“It’s alright, sweetheart. You do whatever you need to.” Cort’s eyebrows came together. “How quick are these pains coming?”
“Why?” Margaret asked.
“I heard somewhere that the closer the pains together, the sooner the baby will arrive.”
“Oh, that makes sense. I did not know that since my last birthing experience was difficult to say the least.” Worry began to take a hold of Margaret’s heart. “I need you to know, when I gave birth to Henry, we both nearly died. The doctor insisted I should be able to have more children with no complications. However, if the worst should happen, I want you to promise to save the baby.”
“Stop that,” Cort ordered. “We aren’t going to talk like that. You’re both going to be fine.”
Margaret inhaled sharply as a fresh pain took hold.
“I think I should check and see what is going on.”
“No, we can wait for the doctor,” Margaret insisted.
Cort came around and gingerly lifted the edge of Margaret’s skirt. Shaking his head, he stated, “I don’t think we can. I see the baby’s head.”
Five pushes later, and Cort was holding a plump, baby girl in his arms.
“I cannot believe you just delivered our daughter,” Margaret said with awe.
“Do you want to hold her?”
“Yes, please, more than anything.”
Cort handed the perfect creature to Margaret. She was adorable with her whisps of black hair on top of her head and hazel eyes starring back at Margaret. The baby’s soft coos were like salve to her heart. She knew everything she had gone through brought her to this moment.
A soft knock came at the door. “Can I come in?” Henry asked from the other side.
“Of course. We want you to meet your baby sister,” Cort stated with pride.
Henry entered the room as a large grin formed on his face. “I guess this makes me a big brother.”
“It sure does, Henry,” Cort confirmed as he patted his eldest son on the back. “And I know you are going to be the best one ever.”
“You mean other than me?” Randall jested from the door.
“Pish-posh, you are only older by three minutes, Rand,” Margaret playfully admonished back. “How did you hear about the baby?”
“I was out working on the fence line by the main road when I saw Alfred galloping by with a frantic look on his face. I knew it must mean the baby was coming so I loaded up Jackie and the baby in the wagon and we came over.”
“Where is my dear friend, anyway?” Margaret inquired.
“Right here,” Jackie said as she entered the room with her infant daughter in her arms. Sitting down beside her friend on the edge of the bed, she added, “We are so happy for you both.”
The baby’s cooing was interrupted by a small cry. “I think the baby is getting hungry,” Margaret explained. “I think I should feed her.”
“Before we go, have you decided on a name?” Randall asked with curiosity.
Margaret looked at Cort who nodded for her to go ahead and reveal the baby’s name. “Susan Marie, after Cort’s mother.”
Chapter 17
Margaret had started to work again, taking charge of the household and putting things back in order. Everything had gone into chaos while she was gone and even after while she was forced to rest for the baby’s sake. Their home was in disarray, and she wanted to fix it.
As Margaret finished up her chores in the kitchen while the baby napped, Jackie arrived. She had taken it upon herself to stop by every few days to “bring Margaret the local town news,” knowing Margaret still did not want to go into town and face all the questions
about her abduction.
They talked about the work their husbands were doing. Apparently, Randall had decided to go into the wheat business—due to a tip from a local farmer that a need for wheat was on the rise. According to Jackie, their crops were doing exceptionally well and they were looking forward to a rich harvest.
Their daughter, whom they named Charlotte Elaine after Margaret and Randall’s mother, was healthy and just learning to crawl.
Smiling, Margaret said, “Charlotte really takes after her father. She has Rand’s eyes.”
Margaret watched her niece inch across the floor. Moving slower than she wished, she would get frustrated, roll over and play with her hands for a few minutes, then flip back over and start the pattern again.
Laughing, Jackie said, “I know. She has his spirit too. She is already causing trouble, trying to get into anything she can manage.”
Margaret joked, “I do not think my brother is completely to blame for that. Do not forget, you have more than your share of ‘spirit’ as well.”
Jackie sniffed, putting on airs as if she were offended. “You think you are so very smart. Well, you are not.”
Margaret snickered. “Possibly, but I know the both of you, and I have never met two people who cause more trouble, which proves my point.”
Jackie shrugged. “Perhaps you are right. I suppose that is why I love Randy so much. He reminds me of myself.”
“I know from experience that Rand is very much the same way,” Margaret said, thinking back to when she first found her brother.
“Henry seems to be sprouting up overnight.”
“Yes, I know. I hardly can believe it myself.” Then Margaret added without thinking, “Every day I see more of Henry in him.”
“There are definite features that are not yours, like his chin for instance. It sticks out much further than yours. Also, his hair is blond, and his eyes are brown.”
Margaret stiffened, knowing that Henry did not look like her. She dreaded the day he asked why that was, and she had to explain their past to him.
Not noticing Margaret’s discomfort, Jackie continued, “Does Henry know about his birth father? Have you ever discussed him or your life before you left England?”
Margaret shifted in her seat and avoided answering the question directly. “It is still difficult for me to talk about him or that time in my life. Of course, it seems to pale in comparison on a scale of bad as opposed to what I have gone through since then. But for some reason, what happened with Henry hurts in a way that is much worse.”
“Maybe because what happened to you back then occurred by the hands of people close to you rather than strangers.”
Margaret did not voice her agreement. After several moments of silence, she stated in a monotone voice, “Those who are closest to you have the ability to hurt you the deepest.”
“If you do not mind me asking, did you love the duke? I mean, before he did what he did to you.”
“I thought I did. But I realize now I was very naive and had no clue as to what true love was. My father was right in that respect. Perhaps, if I had listened to him rather than my own stubborn desires, the duke would not have had the opportunity to do what he did and it would not have cost my husband his life. But as for loving him, I did not, not really—not in any way that counted. But I do know I loved Henry and I also loved Michel. Part of me still does.
“I never knew I would have three great loves in my life, ending with the love of my life. Cort lets me in completely and loves my independent nature. He wants me to work with him—we are partners in every sense of the word. He wants me to be involved with the ranch and the horses, and that means the world to me. All the things that my father said love is, Cort embodies. He is patient, kind, selfless, and honest. He persevered and was steadfast in his love for me even when I did not respond in return. I still marvel at how lucky I am to have him in my life.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it, chéri. You are blessed by God.”
Margaret nodded. “I know I am.”
Chapter 18
Randall and Jackie, along with Charlotte, went every Sunday to church with Cort, but Margaret still did not want to go into town and face everyone’s prying. She opted to read her Bible at home instead. Henry stayed with her, keeping her company.
Then something unexpected happened. Henry asked if he could go with his father to church.
“Mama, I like being with you on Sunday mornings, but I want to start going to church with the rest of the family. Is it okay if I go?”
Happily, she gave her permission. “I think that would be wonderful.”
“Would you want to come with us this next Sunday?”
Margaret thought about it and realized she did not want to miss out on being with her family. She would brave town for her son’s sake, and secretly, she did miss hearing Pastor Thompson’s sermons. “I think that would be nice.”
“I’m glad to hear it, Mama.”
Later that evening, after dinner and nightly chores, Margaret and Cort made their way to their room.
“Why don’t you get in bed, I’m going to sit by the window and say my nightly prayers first.”
Margaret nodded and headed toward their bed.
Cort sat down on the bench and waited several seconds with his eyes closed before starting.
“God, you know my heart and how I wish to please you. Give me the right words to say to those around me. More specifically, I pray that you heal my wife. All I want is for her to find true healing from her past—and that can only be done through you.
“Lord, I thank you that my son has found you and wants to know you. The day I prayed with him and he accepted you, Jesus, was one of the happiest days of my life.
“I thank you that Jackie and Randall know you, Lord. Father, I ask that you protect my family. Send angels to be with them and keep them safe. Give them peace and help me to express your love to them each day.
“Bless my ranch and put your hand over it. I give it over to you, since it all is yours to begin with, Lord. I thank you for providing for my family. Give us all a good night’s rest and help me to be a good witness for you. I love you, Lord. Thank you for saving me and changing me into a better person a little each day. Amen.”
“No, no, not him too. Nooooo. Please, oh no, no—” Margaret sat bolt upright in bed, heaving sobs of fear.
Reflexively, Cort sat up and reached over to gather her into his arms, whispering words of comfort and love.
The dream had come again. It was the same every time.
A man she could not make out knocked her to the ground. Cort was a few feet from her and she was trying to reach out to him, but before she could, the other man stepped in between them.
Hearing the voice of the other man, she tried to make out what he was saying, but it was muffled.
Fear overwhelmed her as she tried to get up to help Cort. She knew the man between them wanted to kill him. She could hear the hate in the tone of his voice.
When she heard a gunshot, Margaret screamed, and then darkness enveloped her.
After several minutes, she finally calmed down enough to realize that someone was with her. Recognizing Cort, she grabbed at him, patting to make sure he was really there.
“You are here,” she said as she tried to catch her breath. “You are truly here. Thank goodness, I thought…. I was so afraid that you were…. I do not know what I would have done if you were….”
She tried to swallow away the dryness in her mouth but was unable. It felt as if it consisted of fear itself and was choking her.
“Yes, sweetheart, I’m here, and I will never leave you. Do not worry, you are safe.”
Resting her head on his shoulder, she whispered, “It is not me that I am frightened for. It is you.”
He pulled back slightly and looked into her eyes with confidence. “Nothing is going to happen to me. I promise you that.”
“But he is so much more powerful than you. I felt it in the dream.”
>
“Who is he?”
“I believe the man in my dream is… the duke.”
Margaret felt him tense. “And in your dream, what happened?”
“It is all so foggy. It seems so hard to remember now, but it was so real while it was happening. It felt so real, and I was so sure…. I truly believed you had been….” She could not finish the thought. It scared her too much to think of Cort dying.
“It was only a dream, and I am here with you. That is all that matters. I love you, Margaret. With every breath of my being and every fiber in my body, I love you.”
Chapter 19
Since hearing Cort’s prayer the other night, Margaret had been searching to find what could help her heal. She believed doing something she loved would help her let go of what was troubling her, and working with horses came first to mind.
Margaret made her way out to the corral where Cort was working on breaking a new horse. He had purchased it in hopes to breed into their existing bloodline.
When she thought about it, she realized she had done herself a disservice by allowing Cort to run the horse farm so long without her being involved. It had been her dream, even before she met Cort, and when they had gotten married, it had become their dream together. It was about time she took control and started making her own dreams come to pass. And that meant finding the perfect stallion to sire a colt for Charlie. Margaret considered using Chester, but for some reason, she did not think he would produce the best colt. She would just have to look elsewhere.
Hopping up onto one of the bottom wooden slats of the corral, she swung her arms on top and rested her chin in her hands as she watched Cort work with the new horse.
He was so submerged in his connection with the stallion, he had not yet noticed her nearby. She watched her husband, liking the idea that she could observe him without him knowing it.
Cort moved in a circle, leading the horse with a halter rope that spanned the ten feet between them. The stallion, in turn, circled him as he galloped along the corral wall. The way they moved together was like a dance. Margaret could see the muscles smoothly roll beneath both their skins in union. And even though Cort had a whip in his hand, it seemed as if he did not need it. It was as if the stallion could sense what Cort was feeling and was naturally obeying his every command.