Page 228 of Conveniently Wed
“Pa said the prettiest wild flowers were right over there.”
Donny’s enthusiasm convinced Bruce he’d done the right thing in entering into a marriage with Stella. “Do you want to stop and get some flowers for your mama?”
“Oh, that’s not necessary.” It was the first words Stella had spoken since they left town.
“Mama, you used to like flowers,” Donny said.
“I still do.”
Bruce stopped the wagon. “Aunt Mary, we’re going to pick some flowers.”
“I don’t mind not bouncing for a few minutes.”
Bruce jumped down and lifted both kids to the ground. He looked up at Stella.
“I’ll wait here.” Did her voice seem tight? Was it excitement about returning home, or regret over this marriage? Or one of a hundred other possibilities that lay ahead of him like little unexpected puddles to land in?
Well, they were in it for keeps, so it was too late for second thoughts.
He joined the children. Pink-headed flowers, yellow star-petaled flowers, tall purple stalks, and tiny bluebell-shaped ones grew among the feathery-headed grass. He helped the children pick a bouquet. He gathered one himself. They returned to the wagon. The children gave their bouquets to Stella. He handed his to Aunt Mary.
“Thank you,” his aunt murmured. “How much farther do we need to go?”
Stella answered. “We’re halfway. Are you comfortable?”
“I’ll be fine.”
He heard the strain in her voice. Rushing would only bring her more pain, so he kept the horses to a slow gait as they continued on their way.
“Look. See that hill?” Donny pointed. “Pa called it the Big Nose Hill. He said it looked like an old man’s nose.”
Bruce laughed. “It does look like a nose. Your pa sounds like a very nice man.”
Donny leaned back. Bruce glanced over his shoulder. Tears glistened in the boy’s eyes. Blossom caught his hand, her face full of sympathy.
Bruce’s throat tightened. Had he said something wrong?
Stella drew Donny to her side. “Son, it’s okay to miss your papa.” She blinked back her own tears. Their lives had been turned upside down and sideways. First, by Frank’s death and then by the illness that had almost claimed all three of them. Marrying Bruce would enable them to return home, but it was one more big adjustment for them all.
She concentrated on her reason for being in this situation. So they could have permanency. Her reasons were valid. Theywould all feel better when they got home and could get back to some sort of normal.
Donny choked back a sob. “Would he be sad that he—” He tipped his head toward Bruce. “Is taking us home?”
Stella had considered the question. Would Frank mind that she had remarried? The answer was easy. “Papa would say we must do what is necessary.”
“I guess so.”
She held her son a moment longer then he straightened and strained forward. “I can see it. I can see the farm.” He jumped up and down. “See, Mr. Reynolds. There it is.”
Bruce chuckled. “I see it. You are about to reach home, Mrs. Reynolds.”
Mrs. Rey—? Oh, he meant her. She was now Mrs. Reynolds. She tried not to think that it was both strange and unwelcome, changing who she was.
Bruce continued. “Have you given any thought to what the children should call me? I don’t care to be addressed as Mr. Reynolds day in and day out.”
Of course, she hadn’t given it any thought. She’d agreed to marriage because it enabled her to return home. It promised, at the very least, a hired man she could afford. And if he left, she would stay. She would not be dragged about as her father had done to her mother. But things were changing too fast. First, being called Mrs. Reynolds and now a way for the children to address him. Did he expect them to call him papa? Wheel turn by wheel turn, she was being sucked into a life she hadn’t planned, hadn’t even had time to think about.
“Would you object to them calling me Uncle Bruce?”
