Page 52 of Mail-Order Bride Mommy
Lindy tugged Gwen’s hand and she turned her attention back to the scene. Ahead of them, the stream widened, the water slowed.
“It’s a natural dam,” Matt explained. “The water is deep enough to swim in.”
“Isn’t it cold?”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Feels perfect on a hot summer day.”
Unable to look at him and keep her equilibrium she glanced upward. The windows of a house twinkled in the sun.
Matt followed the direction of her gaze. “Luke’s house. Come, I’ll show you where you can see our house.”
She held the wordourclose as she accompanied him to the spot indicated and saw the windows winking at her. “It’s beautiful.” Beyond that, she saw the big house. “I don’t see Riley’s place.”
“We’d have to cross the creek to see it. We’ll do that another time.”
In her heart, Gwen placed the promise of more time together in a special, secret corner. They continued, meandering along the valley floor. They paused to examine little red flowers and a nest of tiny eggs. Matt couldn’t tell her what bird had laid them. A bunny hopped out of sight. They reached a spot where a natural earthen bench provided a place to sit.
Lindy perched there. “Mama and Papa brought me here once. We had a picnic. Mama let me eat four cookies.” She held up her fingers to indicate.
Matt tickled her under the chin. “Four? Did you leave any for your papa?”
She nodded, her expression serious. “He ate six!”
Gwen chuckled at Lindy’s shocked tone. Her gaze met Matt’s and she caught a flash of humor tinged with pain.
Lindy wandered away leaving Matt and Gwen sitting on the grass-covered bench.
“Roscoe was my best friend.” Matt’s voice was heavy with emotion. “We often went swimming together.” His gaze went to the dammed-up water. “We would have races. Swimming races, foot races, and horse races.” His gaze went to the distance seeing the past, not the present. “He used to be pretty wild. Guess marriage settled him down.”
Gwen didn’t respond, understanding that he was sorting through his memories.
He slowly released his breath. “I miss him a lot.”
Ignoring the warning in her heart that said she wasn’t doing this for his sake alone, she took his hand and squeezed it. He turned his palm toward hers and held on as if finding it comforting and she let herself believe she could give him what he needed in more ways than as a housekeeper.
Warmth flowed up her arm. She hoped it was also flowing up his and into his heart. To comfort him, of course. No other reason. Certainly not a wish that he would look at her and see a woman.
Stop right there, Gwendolyn Humber. You knew from the start what you agreed to. You had no objection. So don’t build up paper walls of hope and expectation that will disintegrate before the winds of truth.
What was the truth? That she was easily replaced or forgotten though she knew of nothing she’d done to make such actions so easy. She slipped her hand from his and knotted it to the other in her lap. A marriage in name only would guarantee permanency. The month's delay was not just a chance to prove herself, it assured her that he would make a commitment that stuck. After all, he’d see her good points and if she had her way, he wouldn’t see any bad ones. At least nothing beyond minor things like a tendency to oppose him. Or forgetting a pie in the oven.
They stayed there a long time just talking. He told her of the excitement on the ranch when Lindy was born. The way people at church had clustered around the infant the first time they took her there. “You’d think they never saw a baby,” Roscoe had said. Then laughed. “Of course, they never saw one as sweet as Lindy.”
In turn, she told him about her friends back in Kellom. He wanted to know what they’d done for entertainment.
“We gathered at the parsonage to study the Bible. There were six of us who attended regularly for years. Others came and left. Mostly because the pretty girls got married and had babies.”
He tipped his head to consider her at that comment. “You know pretty doesn’t mean a good person, don’t you?”
She lifted her hands in resignation. He’d as good as said she wasn’t pretty. And even though she’d told him that in one of her letters, it wasn’t something a woman liked to hear especially from a man she intended to marry.
“Besides, who said you aren’t pretty?” he asked with a bit of a laugh.
Her mouth fell open and she stared at him.
He touched her head. “You were real pretty with your hair down.” Were his words husky?
She closed her mouth and blinked. Had he really said that? What did it mean? “Thank you,” she managed to stammer before she shifted her gaze away to stare at the light flashing on the rippling water.
