Page 286 of Conveniently Wed
She sprang to her feet. “There is something I must do.” She rushed into her bedroom and dragged the mattress from the cot the children slept on. She found a hammer and knocked the bed frame into its various pieces. One by one, she carried them to Bruce’s room and reassembled the frame, carried the mattress in, and made the cot up. She stood back. Perfect room for two children.
Now to make her room inviting.
Aunt Mary had returned inside to watch the activity. She chuckled. “Nice to see you listening to your heart and following it.”
Stella held up a warning finger. “No gloating.”
Aunt Mary held up her hands in protest. “Far be it from me.”
Stella carried Bruce’s things to the bigger bedroom and rearranged everything to her satisfaction. Finished, she stood in the middle of the room and looked around. Doubts assailed her. Would he resent this? Had she misinterpreted his actions?
She pressed her finger to her lips. No. She didn’t think so.
Three hours later, she fed the children dinner, helped Aunt Mary to her room to rest, and put Blossom down in their new room.
“Why we sleep here?” the child inquired.
Donny had followed. “It’s cause Mama and Uncle Bruce love each other, isn’t it, Mama?”
“This is how it should be.” That was answer enough for two young children.
“Can we call him papa now?”
Donny’s question assured her how right her decision was. “I think he’d like that.”
Donny went to play with his pretend farm, and Stella took the mending outside to work on. Her needle was threaded, a torn dress of Blossom’s in her hands, but she didn’t take a stitch. She stared down the road, watching for dust that would indicate Bruce was on his way home.
The air was still and clear. No dust.
He should have been back before dinner.
Her insides twisted. He wasn’t her papa. Papa made promises and didn’t keep them. Papa liked to move on. With or without his daughter.
No, this was Bruce, and if he was delayed, he had good reason.
But every reason she considered made her cringe. A broken wheel perhaps throwing him from the wagon. A gunman shooting at him. A robbery that left him injured. Or worse.
Now was the time not only to trust him but to trust God and ask for His protection over her loved one. There, she had admitted it. Aunt Mary would likely say it was about time.
“God, you see everything. You know what he needs. Please keep him safe and bring him home.” She repeated the words silently over and over and forced herself to fix the tear in Blossom’s dress.
I will trust and not fear.A verse the preacher said often. God was good. He would take care of her and Bruce.
The tension inside her eased though she continually glanced toward the road.
When she finally saw a cloud of dust, she stared, thinking she might be imagining it. But no, it billowed down the road.
She set aside the mending, picked up her skirts, and ran down the lane to where it met the road. She cupped her hands over her eyes. It was Bruce. He seemed to be in one piece. Praise the good Lord.
He stopped at her side and jumped down to sweep her into his arms. “I am so sorry it took so long. I knew you would be worried and wonder if I had left you.”
She leaned back and pressed her fingers to his lips to silence him. “I knew you would come back. I was only concerned for your safety.”
His lips curved beneath her fingers. His eyes crinkled and brimmed with blue tenderness.
“I found a man injured on the side of the road. His horse had thrown him and run off. I took him to Mrs. Kinsley. The preacher was away, so I stayed to help. She’s about run off her feet and very glad to see Clara. She immediately set her to work. Clara looked relieved to have something useful to do. And then I stopped to get you this.” He reached in the back of the buggy for a large bouquet of wild flowers—mostly reds and oranges with a smattering of blue and white—and handed it to her.
“It’s like a bride’s bouquet. Thank you.” She knew immediately what she wanted to do as soon as he had taken care of the horse and wagon.
