Prairie Romance Collection Page 5

  “Rylan?” He stood there motionless, staring in the direction of the pond but not really focusing on it. “Rylan?” she called again.

  “Huh? Oh, sorry, I guess I got to thinking.”

  “I guess.” She grinned.

  “I was pondering your questions. I’m not really sure what in the house is Margaret and what is me. To me it’s more of a sense of her in every room, in every nail I put into the place. I probably should just take it down and build again.”

  “Are you a glutton for punishment?” “No, I…”

  She marched over to him, grabbed his forearm, and yanked. He stood firmly planted. She released her grasp. “Come on, show me this shrine. I can’t believe it’s as bad as you say it is.”

  “It’s not bad. It’s a beautiful home,” he protested.

  “I didn’t mean bad in the sense that you didn’t do a good job. I meant bad in the sense of the overwhelming feelings you have when you’re in the place. Let’s go confront this demon before it takes the last bit of common sense you have out of your head.”

  She yanked his arm again.

  “Can I at least put my socks and shoes on?” he muttered.

  “If you must.” She winked. Watch your step, Judith, or you’ll be encouraging that personal relationship that neither one of you is ready for.

  They walked in silence across the field and down the pasture toward his home. Judith gasped as the wonderful structure came into view. “You built this?”

  “Yes.” He beamed.

  “Are you sure you should be a farmer? A woodworker or carpenter seems more in order.” She wagged her head. It was a real house, a grand house with a large front porch and beautifully paned windows.

  “The house is built for additional rooms in the back. I did start with three children’s bedrooms and one large bedroom for me—and Margaret.”

  “Lead on, oh master of wood. I’m impressed.”

  “Thank you.”

  He opened the front door, and the well-polished hardwood floors reflected the fading sunlight. Rylan had spared no expense on the house. It had large, nine-over- six paned windows, which Judith imagined would be hung with heavy drapes for the winter. A hearth stood between the kitchen and the living room.

  “I put the fireplace here for warmth in the front parlor, as well as a working fireplace and bread oven over on the other side in the kitchen.”

  “It’s lovely. Did you use stones from your field?” She reached up and touched the rough-hewn stones held in place with gray mortar.

  His grin widened. “Yes. Growing up in the North, I have a healthy sense of being frugal.”

  “I don’t think you were tightfisted here. The hardwood floors, the large windows…”

  “I purchased the glass, but the wood is lumber I cut and milled from my land. It’s one of the reasons I had to delay Margaret’s coming for a year.”

  “The house is beautiful, but we’re here to have you point out what you put in for Margaret.”

  “Come into the kitchen.”

  She followed behind, looking over the tall ceilings and the mixture of wood and plaster walls. He might think he was being frugal, but she was convinced he’d spent a bundle on the place. Inside the kitchen he pointed out the cabinets for canning, the woodstove, and the sink with a pump.

  “I’m sorry, Rylan. I see a functional kitchen here. Well designed, but still it’s simply a kitchen. Nothing that shouts Margaret to me.”

  He scanned the room slowly.

  Father, help me get through to him. I know he’s hurting, and the loss is great, but help me show him that there’s room for him and another in this house. He’s too fine of a man not to have a wife, Lord, she prayed.

  Rylan continued the tour. With the exception of the flowered wallpaper in the master bedroom, Judith didn’t find anything that shouted Margaret. She tried to gently point this out, a real exercise in controlling her tongue. She didn’t need to bait the man. He needed to allow the reality to sink home.

  “You can change the wallpaper, Rylan. It’s beautiful, but if it reminds you too much of Margaret…” She let her words trail off. She wanted to ask if he had more rolls of the paper for her own family, but she couldn’t see putting wallpaper up on the dugout’s walls.

  “I suppose I could do that. I don’t have the heart right now. I’m afraid my anger may take over, and I’d be replacing more than wallpaper. Perhaps a wall or two.”

  “You don’t seem like the kind of man who can lose his temper.”

  “Normally, I’d agree with you, but this hurt went deeper than any other I’ve ever experienced.”

  “You mean more than the hurt God felt when your sins kept you from Him?”

  He groaned. “You don’t play fair.”

  “Am I supposed to?” She quirked a smile.

  “Well, you should at least give me a chance.”

  “Never. I take all the advantages I can.”

  “I can tell.” Rylan reached for her hand and caressed the top of it with his thumb. “Thank you, Judith. I don’t know if I can sleep in here, but…”

  “Give yourself time. Sleep in one of the children’s rooms. You know those aren’t going to be used for a while,” she teased.

  “You are vexing.”

  “I try.” She chuckled.

  “As a woman, do you approve of the house?”

  “Do you have to ask? I’ve been drooling since I saw it in the distance. You’ve done a wonderful job. And that kitchen is so workable.”

  “Good, because I wanted to hire you and your mom to come do my canning. I have some tomatoes, corn, and squash that need to be canned soon or they’ll spoil. The winter squash, turnips, carrots, potatoes, and other hard vegetables can go in the root cellar.”

  “Father mentioned you would like us to can. It would be a dream to work in this kitchen after working in my parents’.”

  “When can you start?”

  “Tomorrow morning. Mother might not be able to right away, but I can.”

  “Thank you. You don’t know how much of a blessing that will be for me.”

  “I can guess.”

  He released her hand. “Don’t misunderstand me; I love my meat, but I also love vegetables.”

  “Guess that’s a good thing for a farmer, huh?”

  “Judith, I promise not to avoid you again.”

  She gave him a soft punch in the shoulder. “You’d better not, or I’ll come after you again.”

  “Is that a promise?” He wiggled his thick reddish-brown eyebrows. Judith’s stomach fluttered.

  The sun had set, and it was getting darker inside the house.

  “Rylan!” A panicked cry came from outside.

  Chapter 6

  Father, what’s the matter?” Judith ran toward her father. “What’s the trouble, Oscar? How can I help?” Oscar wrapped his arms around his daughter and pulled her close. After a few awkward moments, Rylan cleared his throat.

  “Sorry,” Oscar offered. “I came running over for your help to find Judith. Her mother and I feared she’d gotten lost in the woods.”

  “I’m sorry, Father. I should have told you where I was off to.” Crimson-stained cheeks and pleading eyes implored Rylan to explain.

  “I was showing her the house and the kitchen. She’s agreed to can what’s left of my vegetables for the winter season.”

  Oscar grinned. “Wonderful. She’s nearly as good a cook as her mother.”

  A few pleasantries exchanged, then Oscar and Judith departed for their home. Rylan gazed up at the farmhouse. He’d painted it white. No curtains hung in the windows, and bits of colored sunlight played off the glass. He’d spent a small fortune in glass to bring in the sun. He’d even positioned the house at the right direction for the breezes to blow through and cool the house during hot summer days.

  Judith’s words about it being his house played back in his mind. “Father God, can I start looking at this place as my house and not Margaret’s?”

  He fough
t his legs and forced himself up the porch stairs. Each step closer to the front door became more difficult. He placed his hand on the wrought-iron latch. Broken promises, betrayal, stormed his mind. He released the latch. Perhaps tomorrow he could tackle those demons. He turned to leave. At the base of the stairs he stopped. The empty house seemed to reach out to him and envelop him in its presence.

  Rylan squared his shoulders and marched back into the house. Tonight he would slay these dragons. Tonight, with God’s grace, he would begin to move forward with his life.

  The next morning Rylan woke in one of the children’s bedrooms. The cock’s crow and the glorious sunrise gave him a new outlook on the day. He hadn’t slept much, but when he finally did fade off, his sleep was deep.

  Day after day Rylan found himself getting stronger. The pain of Margaret’s betrayal wore less on him. The house began to smell alive, and Judith’s canning every day helped tremendously. The smell of new wood was mixed with wonderful aromas. Several evenings he even arrived to find homemade meals, thanks to Judith.

  Oddly enough, he and Judith spent little time with each other. She’d leave him a message of what she’d accomplished each day and what she planned to do the following day. Only once had he managed to get home early enough from the fields to find her cleaning up.

  Today would be different. He needed to see her. He needed to thank her, he continually told himself. He caught a whiff of … of … roast beef? Rylan took the front steps two at a time.

  “What smells so heavenly?” He tossed his hat on the old rocker and rounded the corner into the kitchen.

  “Rylan!” She jumped. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “Sorry to startle you. What smells so good?”

  “Beef brisket.”

  “Judith, you don’t have to cook my meals for me. But thank you; they are most enjoyable.”

  She smiled. “I know, but I’m here cooking anyway. Besides, I figured it would help you feel more at home in your own house.”

  He pulled out a chair and sat at the table. “It does, and I’m doing better on that score. Thank you very much. You were right. There’s more in this house that is a part of me than Margaret.”

  “Oh, Rylan, I’ve prayed for you every day. I’m so glad to hear the Lord is answering our prayers.”

  “I hope you don’t run out of vegetables to can. My stomach will never forgive me if I make it go back to my own cooking.”

  She giggled. “Better prepare your stomach. One more day, and I’ll be done.”

  Rylan didn’t know what to say. He searched his mind for any other possible vegetables needing canning. “Did you get the vegetables out of the root cellar?”

  “All that needed canning, yes. We don’t need to can the potatoes, carrots, or hard squashes.”

  “I wouldn’t want to have them spoil.” He knew she’d see through this ruse but…

  She slapped him on the shoulder. “You can hire me as your cook.”

  “Now that’s a thought. How much?”

  “Hmm.” She tapped his shoulder. “How much is it worth?”

  Judith chuckled as she left Rylan’s house. She hadn’t meant to work herself into a permanent job, but it looked promising. The extra income would be helpful, and the change of scenery a blessing. The dugout, while functional, depressed her. Its dark interior didn’t compare to Rylan’s light-filled home. She enjoyed her time there, perhaps too much.

  The next day she found Rylan in the kitchen when she arrived. “Good morning, Rylan. Are you feeling ill?”

  “No, I’m fine. I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Why? Was he regretting his decision to hire her to cook his meals? She poured herself a cup of coffee, added some cream and sugar, and sat down beside him. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.” He looked down at his hands then back at her. “Everything.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “We need to talk.”

  “All right.” She sipped the bitter coffee and added more cream and sugar.

  “I’ve had a response to my ad.”

  “What ad?” She sat down at the table with him.

  “For a wife.”

  A wife? He advertised for a wife? Why would he do such a thing? He’s a handsome, caring man. Any woman would love to have him as a husband.

  “After I read the marriage announcement in the paper, I decided I had little choice. I need a wife, Judith.” His gaze pierced her soul. “Do you know why I’ve been working late every night?”

  “Avoiding me.”

  “Yes, but do you know why?”

  What could she say? He was afraid of his feelings. She was avoiding her own as well. They had connected at the fair, a real connection. She’d been dreaming about Rylan every night. She’d been wondering if she could be happy as his wife. She knew she loved his house, but that wasn’t the reason a woman should marry a man. It should be for love. Something both of them avoided, and something that each of them was too afraid to talk about.

  “Judith.” His voice softened. He reached for her hand. “Am I just fooling myself, or do you care about me, even a little?”

  Her mouth went dry. Did she want this much honesty? Could she afford to? “I care, Rylan, but we don’t know each other. Do I care only because of your house?” She slipped her hand over her mouth. She hadn’t intended to be that open.

  Rylan grinned then relaxed. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “I understand your desire for a wife, but I’d be lying to you if I said I was in love with you. I love your house, I love the way the light streams through the windows, and I enjoy speaking with you. But are we right for each other? Do we … can we have a love for one another?”

  Rylan pushed himself from the table, scraping the chair across the hardwood floor. He paced for a moment then stopped and kept his back to her, looking out the back door. “I’ve given up on love, Judith. I need a wife to have my children, to care for my house.”

  Judith’s heart sank. She wouldn’t marry a man without love. She understood his anger and hurt to some extent, but he hadn’t seen the woman in three years. And he’d confessed Margaret hadn’t written to him in well over a year, and the year before that had brought only occasional letters. Quietly Judith got up from the table and walked over to him. She placed her hand on his shoulder. Warmth radiated from the gentle contact. She cared for Rylan more than she wanted to admit. “Rylan?”

  He turned and faced her. Hurt, anger, confusion swirled in his rich orbs. She wanted to tell him there was more to love than what they’d both experienced, but what could she say? She’d avoided relationships. She’d kept men at a distance, not wanting to be dragged into a life of social commitments and a house empty of love. Then reality hit. She didn’t like the lifestyle she’d been raised in, she hated its false pretense, and she yearned for a real and honest relationship. One like her parents now had. One she could have with Rylan if he could open himself to love.

  She reached up and touched his cleanly shaved face.

  He placed his hands on her shoulders, holding her but keeping her at a distance. “Please, don’t give up on love,” she whispered. “God can heal all our wounds.”

  His grip softened.

  Words unspoken played between them for what seemed like an eternity. Unspoken and yet heard, the language of lovers. She knew then that she loved this man, not for his house, not for his land, but because of him. Just him. It wouldn’t matter if he owned nothing, if they lived in a simple dugout. She’d love him until she breathed her last breath. But should she marry him when he was still hurting?

  “Judith, should I answer the letter?”

  “Do you care at all for me, Rylan?”

  “Yes, I care. But I can’t…”

  She placed her finger to his lips. “Don’t say it. Just promise me one thing, and I’ll marry you.”

  “What do you need me to promise?” His stance became more rigid.

  “That you will continue to pray and ask
God to heal the hurt Margaret has caused you.” “But…”

  “I’m asking little, Rylan. I’m not asking you to declare your love for me. I’m not asking for anything more than a promise to allow God to do what we are all asked to do in the scriptures. I realized something just a moment ago. I never got involved with the men back home because I didn’t like the shallowness of their lives. I didn’t like how people lived for recognition in society and not for one another in their homes. Marriages were unions that bettered one in business and in social standing. I didn’t want that in my life.”

  “Why were you all set to go back?”

  She moved from his arms and walked back toward the table.

  “Because I didn’t recognize the truth about my life back there. I also now realize that I love you for who you are and not your beautiful house. I’ll accept your marriage proposal.”

  “But I don’t love…”

  She held back the hurt.

  “I’m sorry. That is unkind. I care for you, Judith, truly I do.” He came up beside her and wrapped his arms around her. “I would never do anything to hurt you intentionally. At least I will try not to do that. But…”

  She turned in his arms. “Stop talking and kiss me,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

  Rylan had not been prepared for the heat of passion that filled him when he’d kissed Judith. It pretty near stole his breath away. They decided to wait a couple days before they told anyone the news of their engagement. But Rylan couldn’t wait. He’d gone straight to town and sent word for a preacher. He’d also sent off a letter to the woman who’d answered his ad, gently declining her offer.

  What he didn’t expect was to find Judith on his doorstep later that evening. “Judith!” Her name brought a smile to his face.

  He came closer. Red eyes…

  “Rylan, we need to talk.”

  “What’s the matter?” He came and sat beside her.