Page 267 of Conveniently Wed
He regretted his words. They had built a fence between them just when he was enjoying a sense of belonging and acceptance.
Acceptance? Why did the word keep coming to his mind? Only because of what Aunt Mary said.
He tried to think of a way to retract what he’d said.
Stella shifted so she looked fully at him. Her eyes were dark, full of what he hoped was gentleness. Compassion. Acceptance.
Could he not complete a thought without that word?
“Bruce, you are my husband now, and even though it’s a business agreement, my loyalty lies with you. Frank has been gone long enough that I do not hanker after him. The months since his passing have been full of so many struggles and challenges that it seems he’s been gone forever. I’m simply happy to be here.” Her look went on and on, trapping him in a pool of warmth.
He tried to think beyond her promise that her loyalty lay with him. “Did you have a good marriage?”
“He was a good man.”
“How did you meet? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“I have nothing to hide. I had stayed behind in Hebert, Kansas when my parents moved on and found a job cooking at the hotel. I wanted one thing in life—a place of my own so I would never have to leave. So, I was saving my money and living in a little room. I ate leftovers at the hotel to save the cost of buying food.” She smiled at Bruce. “The pennies didn’t add up as quickly as I would have liked, but I meant to succeed.”
“I’ve seen how much having a place means to you. Enough for you to marry a stranger.”
She chuckled. “You don’t seem like a stranger anymore. Odd, isn’t it?” She sipped from her cup, watching him over its rim.
“I feel the same way.” He jerked toward the house. “Is it Aunt Mary’s prayers?”
Pink flooded Stella’s cheeks, and she lowered her gaze, seemingly interested in the contents of her cup.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. You were telling me how you met your husband.”
“Frank delivered freight in the area, so I often saw him when he brought luggage and supplies to the hotel. We struck up aconversation. Soon we were talking about our goals. We both wanted the same thing—to own a place of our own. His goal was to go west to the Montana Territory and get a homestead. Soon we ended up walking and then going to church and various things. We married the spring of 1878, filled his wagon with everything we needed to start a new life, and headed west to settle here.”
“You must have been very young when you married Frank. You don’t look a day over twenty now.”
The way her eyes flashed, he knew she was pleased at his assessment.
“I was seventeen when we married.”
“That makes you twenty-three.”
“You’re good at arithmetic, aren’t you?”
He laughed at the teasing in her voice. “Same age as me.”
They stared at each other in a silence rich with connection and bonding. In the back of his mind, he knew he was getting way out of bounds. Just because they were married didn’t mean they shared anything but his name and her farm. And yet he couldn’t deny he wished for more.
He sat back. She had asked him what he wanted, said she hoped he would find it here.
His brain had offered an answer to her question. He wanted to belong here more than as a partner on the farm.
Was it something he could hope to receive?
Stella watched a play of emotions flicker through Bruce’s eyes. They passed so quickly she couldn’t identify them. Though if she had to, she would say hope had flared and then been replaced by something she could only describe as caution. What had hehoped for, and why did he resist it? But she didn’t feel she had the right to ask. Would she ever feel free to ask him about his thoughts and feelings? Where did the boundaries for a marriage-for-business-purposes lie?
She turned to watch the sun dipping toward the mountains and finished her tea. “It’s nice sitting here.”
“It’s nice for you to be back home.” Was it caution that made his voice so deep?
She was overcome by an incredible urge to remove some of that caution and hear hope. “It’s more than that.” Would he pursue the subject?
