His Brother's Bride (7 page)

As he spoke, the curls on her nape whispered softly against her skin, sending gooseflesh up and down her arms.

“You never told me about wanting a child.”

It was true, she hadn't. But didn't every woman want children? He should have known.

His hand squeezed the flesh of her arm, and heat kindled there. “I wasn't thinking straight that day on the stage. All those people watching. . . I just didn't know how to say it.”

Her lips trembled, and she put a hand against them.

He turned her around and her heart caught. His broad chest was inches from her face, and she focused on one of the pearly buttons on his shirt. She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze, though she felt it as sure as a touch. She closed her eyes, then felt his hand on her chin, tipping it up.

When she opened her eyes, his gaze burned into hers, and her legs trembled under her
.
His eyes darkened to a deep bluish green. Their depths held a mix of sorrow and something else she was afraid to define. His thumb moved along her jaw, blazing a trail of fire. Her heart threatened to escape her chest. She closed her eyes again lest he see the depth of her feelings.

Ten

His thumb traced the curve of her lip, and she thought she'd surely faint dead away. Why was he doing this? It was sweet torture.

There were no words, and no world around them, just the touch of his hand and the fire of his gaze. Though she'd never been kissed, she knew this man, her husband, wanted to kiss her now. And she longed for it with all her heart.

He leaned closer until she could see the tiny flecks of color in his eyes. She wanted to drown in their depths, but more than that, she wanted to feel his lips on hers. Even now, she felt the heat of his breath caress her lips.

“Ma?” Adam's voice echoed down the stairs.

She froze in place, as did Cade, and her heart beat out an emphatic complaint.

“Pa?”

Cade's hands fell to his side, and the flesh they'd left went suddenly cold.

His gaze flitted over hers, and she read the reluctance in them. He walked to the stairs and spoke from there. “What is it?” His voice sounded raspy and mildly irritated. Was he as disappointed as she at having been interrupted?

“I got a question 'bout heaven.”

Cade tossed her a look, and she suddenly felt silly standing alone in the middle of the room.

Before she could move, he went up the stairs. The moment was gone, and she feared there would never be another like it.

That night, she pulled out her diary from its secret spot and put her thoughts on paper.

Dear Diary,

I feel compelled to broach a subject I have avoided all these weeks here in Cedar Springs. It's silly of me, but somehow I felt if I didn't write my feelings in these pages, they would just disappear. I'm speaking of my feelings for my husband.

Such a whirlwind of emotions are even now flooding my mind. Moments ago, I was so angry with him I could have screamed.

I have never seen him angry like he was tonight, and as much as it distressed me, I realize how different his anger was from Uncle Stewart's. I had no fear tonight of harm coming to my own person. Still, his anger bothered me in a different way. I think it's because I care so much what he thinks of me. And to think that he was disappointed in me was most distressing.

But I couldn't let him think as badly of me as he did. In his anger, he'd said things that weren't justified, hence my own temper flared. But somehow, just a kind word and a touch from him, and I was pliable as dough.

My face heats as I write this, but, Diary, tonight he nearly kissed me. My heart has still not recovered, nor has my deep disappointment that we were interrupted before his lips met mine. Has another woman ever felt so overwhelmed at her husband's touch? I wonder if it's inappropriate to feel so much desire.

Well, these questions won't be answered tonight, and right now, I long to curl up on my bed and dream sweet dreams.

❧

Cade pulled his chair back with a scrape and let his weary body fall onto it. He could hear Emily at the stove scraping breakfast from the skillet. Next to him, Adam rested his chubby cheek against his palm, his eyes closed against the morning.

Cade rubbed his own eyes. Sleep had been slow in coming last night on account of his confused thoughts. By the time he'd answered all Adam's questions about heaven and hell, Emily had gone to bed. A part of him had been relieved, but another part was disappointed. He'd wanted to kiss her, no denying that. He was starting to cotton to her, and there was no denying that either.

He picked up the pitcher and filled their cups with fresh milk.

Was it so wrong of him to want his new wife? To have feelings for her? Those were the questions that had kept him awake for the better part of the night. The kitchen door creaked open, and Emily appeared, a basket of biscuits in her hand. He rose and took it from her, setting it square on the table, and she turned back to the kitchen.

He watched her go, her calico skirts swinging in rhythm with her steps. He admired the way the material clung to her narrow waist then flowed out from the flare of her hips.

Heat flooded his face at the direction of his thoughts. All last night, he'd seen her face behind his closed eyes. Her deep brown eyes and cherry lips that trembled with anger. He'd come so close to kissing them. Would they have softened under his ministrations?

Emily came through the door, this time holding a platter filled with ham and eggs. He rose briefly until she settled into her seat, then he said grace.

She scooped some eggs onto Adam's plate while he speared a slab of ham.

She had yet to meet his gaze, and he knew she felt just as awkward about their embrace as he did. As they ate the meal, the strain was thick. Only Adam spoke, finally wakened by the tasty food in his belly.

“We going to the cave again today?”

The question was directed at Emily, but the answer slipped from Cade's mouth before he could stop it. “No.”

Adam turned to him with an argument on his lips, but Cade put a stop to it. “You're not allowed going into the caves again. It's not safe.”

“But me and Emily—”

“Answer's no, and that's final. I'll not hear another word about it, understand?”

His son's eyes flashed blue then his gaze fell away. “Yes sir.”

Cade looked at Emily, but she studied the eggs on her plate as she moved them around with her fork.

Even Adam fell silent after that, and Cade wondered if Emily was thinking that he didn't trust her. He remembered her emphatic words from the night before and how he'd hurt her feelings. He still felt bad about that, even after apologizing. He hoped she understood about the caves.

His gaze darted her way just in time to catch hers. They held for a memorable moment.

With a loud clank, Adam's glass turned over and milk flowed across the table. Emily got up for a towel, and the moment was broken again.

❧

All that afternoon, Cade couldn't get Emily from his mind. He hadn't been without a woman for so long that he didn't recognize the feelings that had been building in him. Emily was no longer a mere boarder in his home. She was no longer just a fill-in mother for his son. She was coming to be special to him. A part of his heart, a part he'd thought long dead, was coming alive again. And as much as that scared him, it excited him too. He wondered what his brother would have thought of this?
Would Thomas approve of my feelings for Emily?

He nodded thoughtfully and pulled Sutter's reins until he stopped. Thomas would approve. He probably would've thumped Cade on the forehead for being stubborn about it so long.

He led the horse to the creek and let him drink his fill, then squatted beside him and filled his canteen. As the clear water rushed into the small opening, Cade knew he'd made a decision he wouldn't go back on. He would pursue this relationship with Emily. Slowly, carefully, he would try to win the heart of his son's mother—his wife.

❧

Emily picked up the yellow yarn and started working on what was going to be a blanket for Mara's baby. She'd settled on the most delicate colors and though she'd barely started, she knew it was going to be the perfect gift.

Upstairs, the floor creaked where Cade no doubt stood beside Adam's bed. His announcement over breakfast that she wasn't to take Adam into caves had left her reeling. What was she going to do now? How would she search for the gold and obey Cade's wishes? She couldn't leave the boy at home or even at the cave's entrance all alone. He was too young to stay out of trouble, and she would never forgive herself if something happened to him. Cade was right. A cave was no place for a child. But that left her in a quandary. The only person whom she knew well enough to ask for help was Mara, but what reason could she give to her friend why she needed help with Adam so often? She couldn't bring herself to lie. All the deceptions with her husband were a heavy enough burden. She couldn't sully her relationship with her only real friend.

And perhaps if she gave up the search, her relationship with her husband would improve. Cade had cast strange glances her way during both breakfast and supper until she wanted to set down her utensils and ask him if she had preserves on her chin. And over supper, he'd talked to her. To her, not just to Adam. He'd asked her about the garden and told her he'd chop more wood for the stove. And besides that, he'd looked at her when he'd spoken.

Her insides got all quivery just thinking about it. She looked at the spot across the room where they'd stood together last night—and she'd lost her temper in a way she had never done. She'd given him a good dressing-down for his ingratitude, and now she felt bad about it. She could hardly believe she'd bared her soul that way, told him of her disappointment. Now he knew how badly she wanted young 'uns.

That's it. He's being kindly toward me because he feels guilty.
A lump of disappointment formed in her stomach.
He feels sorry for me.
Only when she felt the keen stab of regret did she realize she'd been hoping for something else. She'd been hoping all day that he was growing fond of her.

Did he embrace her the night before because he pitied her? Because he felt bad that he'd ruined her dream of having children? Her face flooded with heat, and she was glad he was upstairs at the moment.

Lord, this marriage is a mess,
she prayed.
I'm so confused by Cade's behavior, Father, and I'm so tired of hiding my feelings from him.

The creaks on the stairs alerted her to Cade's entrance. She pretended to be absorbed in her knitting, but every nerve in her body was aware of his presence, of his movement across the room. He settled in his chair in the corner by the fireplace.

“Adam's all tucked away for the night.”

The needles trembled in her hands, clacking together. “Good.” Was her voice as wobbly as she thought? Why wasn't he picking up his Bible from the mantel? Why was he just sitting there? She could feel his gaze on her.

“He said you went to town today.”

From the corner of her eye, she could see him cross his legs. “Picked up some yarn for this blanket.”

“Clay told me they were expecting.”

Her skin prickled with heat, and she wondered if her face bloomed with color. Why had she mentioned the baby blanket? Now he must be thinking of her words last night.

“Corn's coming up good. Old man Owens said he thought this might be the best crop in years, barring a drought.”

“That's good.” Why couldn't she think of anything else to say? He must think her addlepated.

“If we get a good price on it, I was thinking to build on a water closet on the east side of the house.”

She glanced at him then back to her work. How wonderful
it would be to have a necessity! Especially in the cold of win
ter.

“Parnell said he could get me good price on one of those bathtubs too.”

“A bathtub? Really?” Oh, how nice it would be not to haul water to the stove and heat it up for each bath.

His eyes sparkled in the lantern light. “If we have a good crop.”

She worked her needles, and they clicked together breaking the silence. Finally, Cade retrieved his Bible from the mantel and settled in the chair. As she knitted, her mind spun. Was he offering to build the necessity out of kindness to her? Men didn't care about such things did they? Her heart skittered in her chest. Would he do that for her?

Even as she worked, she could feel his gaze on hers, but she couldn't bring herself to meet it. Either he was feeling sorry for her or he was growing fond of her, and she couldn't bear to expose her feelings until she knew for sure one way or the other.

Eleven

Dear Uncle Stewart,

I hope this letter finds you and Nana well. I'm finding the life of a farmer's wife is both exhausting and rewarding.

Emily leaned back and read the lines. Her uncle had a disliking for small talk, but the next words she wrote must be exactly right
. Help me say this in a way he'll accept, Lord. I'm so tired of this awful game, of deceiving Cade. Let this be the end of it, please.

I'm afraid I have some bad news. Last week Adam and I became lost in one of the caves while I was searching. It's only by God's grace that we found our way out. The caves here seem endless with many tunnels leading in many directions. One could disappear into one of them and never come out alive. I have spent many hours searching that particular cave to no avail. There are so many places the gold could be hidden, and no way of knowing where it is. There are several other caves in the area where the gold could also be buried. I could search for years and never find it.

In addition to that, I have found it's very dangerous work. Caves can collapse, leaving a person buried alive. Wild animals are known to make their homes in these caves. And, as I recently discovered, one can become hopelessly lost. In all honesty, I cannot risk Adam's well-being by taking him into these hazardous caverns anymore. After last week's disaster, his father has forbidden it anyway. Because of these safety reasons and because of the hopelessness of ever finding what you seek, I think it would be best to discontinue the search. Please be reasonable about this, Uncle. I know you are displeased to hear this, but please know that I have given it my best effort.

You needn't be burdened with Nana any longer. I would love to take care of her here if you will only send her to me. I will gladly pay her fare, and you will not have to care for her anymore. Please write soon. Until then, know that I care for you and am praying for you both.

Love,

Emily

She sighed and covered her mouth with a trembling hand. Would her uncle accept her words?
Please, Lord, help Uncle Stewart be fair-minded.
What other hope had she?

❧

“Did you know my mama?” Adam asked.

His question stilled the breath in Emily's body. Her hands, too, stilled on the lump of dough before they resumed their kneading. “No, I didn't. I know she was very special, though, and that she loved you very much.”

Adam squished the small wad of dough she'd given him to play with. “She died when I was borned.”

“I know.” She wished she knew what else to say. Was the boy missing his real ma? The thought brought an ache to her own stomach. She'd grown to think of him as her own son.

Something had happened once she'd written that letter to her uncle. It was as if it had freed her. There was no wall of lies between her and her husband and no tricking Adam into going on treasure hunts. Somehow it seemed she was truly his mother now and not just playing a role.

“Pa said she's in heaven.” He flattened the dough.

“Sure enough. She had Jesus in her heart just like you.” Emily smiled down at him, but when she saw his wide blue eyes gloss over with tears, her heart caught.

She knelt down and put her hand on his arm, mindless of the sticky flour that coated it. “Oh, Sweetheart. What is it?”

His chin quivered, and a tiny frown puckered between his brows. “What if you go away too?” His eyes scrunched up, and he dove into her arms.

She embraced him, her own eyes stinging. He was worried he was going to lose her like he had lost his ma. She remembered when her own mother had died. Consumption, they'd said, but it had seemed so unfair. At least she'd known her ma. Adam had never gotten that chance.

“I can't promise that bad things won't happen, Adam. But God has it all under control, and He has a purpose in everything He does.”

She pulled back and looked him in the eye. “Why, just look at us. Didn't God bring you into my life? What would I do without my special boy?” Her throat ached with a knot that seemed lodged there. “And you needed a mama, and didn't God send me to you? You see, He cares for us and provides for us.” She smiled through her own tears and wiped Adam's cheeks. Flour from her hands dusted his face. She chuckled. “You've got flour on your face now.”

A smile wobbled on his lips, and he put a powdered finger on her nose. “Got you back.”

She laughed and hugged him tight, her love for him welling up in her.

“I love you, Ma.”

Warmth enveloped her like a thick, cozy quilt. “I love you too, Son.” And she realized then that she truly did love this child of her heart the way she would love a child of her body.

❧

“Look, Ma, a matatoe!”

Emily looked up from the straggly weed she'd gripped and laughed. “Sure enough, it's a tomato.”

“Can I pick it?”

“Oh, no, not yet. See how green it is? It won't do for cooking until it's red as a cherry.” She yanked with all her might, and the weed came uprooted. “You keep an eye on it, though. It'll be red before we know it.”

The garden was coming along nicely, and she took pride in the plants she'd tended so carefully. Come winter, they'd have a cellar full of vegetables to last through the cold months. She'd have a lot of canning to do.

In the two weeks since she'd written to her uncle, she'd felt like a whole new woman. Though she was anxious to hear from him, she felt sure he would come to his senses.
He should know it's futile, and he's surely eager to be rid of Nana.

She would have to broach the subject with Cade soon. It wouldn't be too hard given the way he'd taken to talking to her. Twice now, he'd even touched her shoulder as he passed by in a way that had made her skin heat and her heart sigh. In church last Sunday, he'd put his arm across the pew behind her shoulders, and she scarcely understood a word Reverend Hill uttered from that point on.

Is he really starting to care for me, Lord?
It seemed so impossible that he would, but wasn't God capable of anything? Even changing the heart of her stubborn husband?

Having not heard Adam making any noise, she glanced up to see what he was up to. He was splayed out on his belly in front of the same tomato plant, his gaze fixed earnestly on the green vegetable.

A smile tilted her lips, and she sat back on her haunches. “Adam, what are you doing?”

He spared her a glance. “Keeping an eye on the matatoe.”

“But why?”

“You said it'd turn red soon.”

Emily chuckled, delighted at his earnestness. She scooted over beside him and tickled his belly. “I'll bet I can make you turn red sooner.”

He laughed and rolled away, but she crawled after him on her knees. “Gotcha!” She sprinkled his ribs and knees with tickles, and he laughed until his face colored. Before she knew it, she was lying in the dirt beside him, a tomato plant crowding over her shoulder.

“Well now.” The voice from the edge of the garden made her shoot upright. Cade stood there, silhouetted by the sun. His hands rested on his hips. “I think I see a couple nuts ripe for pickin'.”

Adam jumped up beside her. “Pa!” He ran across down the row of plants, leaving footprints behind him. “We didn't plant no nuts.”

As Cade swung Adam into his arms, Emily stood and dusted the dirt from her skirts.

“Is it that late?” she asked. The sun was behind the house, but it seemed too early for Cade to come home. Was he angry she'd been fooling around instead of working?
Why does he always seem to catch me at the worst possible moment?

“Nah, came home early today. Thought I might know a young 'un that'd like to go wading in the creek.”

Adam squealed and squirmed until Cade set him down.

Emily walked toward them feeling a bit out of place. Her bonnet had slipped off and hung from the ribbons tied at her neck. She felt her hair and tried to tuck away the damp strands that had come loose.

“Will you teach me to swim, Pa? Please?”

“Not tonight. Thought we'd go to that shallow spot by Bender's Meadow.”

Emily turned toward the house. She supposed she could get the floor mopped up while they were gone. Hearing the happy chitchat behind her made her feel strangely empty inside. She felt like a fifth wheel. Cade and his son were a pair. Where did she belong?

While Cade went to hitch up the wagon, Emily filled the tin pail with water from the pump and shaved some soap into it. She looked across the length of the house and felt a sigh well up in her.
No use moaning about it, Emily Jane, it needs to be done.

As she dipped the mop into the water, Cade entered the house.

“What are you doing?”

She pulled the sopping mop from the water. “Mopping the floor.”

His expression seemed to fall, and she wondered what she'd done now.

He tapped his hat against his thigh, his gaze scanning the floor. “You don't want to come along?”

Her heart sailed high at his words. He'd assumed she would come with them.

“I thought you might pack us a little supper, and we'd picnic alongside the creek. If you want to, I mean.”

Her hands tightened on the mop handle, the soppy weight of it bearing down on her arms. A picnic. She felt a smile tugging on her lips. “That sounds just fine. Let me just. . .” She looked back toward the kitchen, wondering what she'd fix for their picnic, but turned back, realizing she still had a mop in her hands.

“Here, let me get that.” Cade took the mop from her hands and picked up the full bucket. “Something quick and easy's just fine.”

She nodded and scurried off to pack the meal.

❧

Before long, they were at the bend in the creek. She selected a spot on the high bank under a weeping willow tree, its graceful branches hanging down around them like a veil. Adam slipped off his shoes and stockings and slid down the grassy incline.

“Careful you don't fall,” she called.

While Cade gathered the basket from the wagon, she spread the colorful quilt over the grass and sank down in the cool shade. She slid off her bonnet, and the evening breeze ruffled the stray hairs. She patted it, wishing she'd taken the time to put it up again. The knot was loose, and some of the pins were sliding out.

Cade set the basket beside her. “You should take it down, now that it's cooling off.”

She lowered her hands, and heat crawled up her neck at having been caught primping.

“Come on, Pa!” Adam called from the edge of the creek. Sunlight broke through the leafy canopy and kissed the water here and there with splotches of light.

“Comin',” Cade called. He tugged off his boots and socks and began rolling up the ends of trousers. His calves were thick with muscle and covered with hair as black as the ones on his head.

“You coming in?” Cade's gaze was fixed on her, his lips tilted in a crooked grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

He'd caught her staring! She began unpacking the basket. “I'll just stay here and get everything ready.”

In the fringes of her vision, she saw him stand to his feet. “Suit yourself.”

It didn't take long to set out the simple fixin's of bread, apples, and cheese. Once she did, she watched Adam and Cade playing together in the water, reluctant to interrupt.

When they walked downstream a ways, she laid back against the soft, worn quilt and closed her eyes. She could hear a bird chirping in a tree above her, and the wind sighing through the leaves. She drew in a breath and let the day's worries and frustrations slide away. The last thing she remembered hearing was a squirrel chattering off in the distance.

A faint tickling sensation on her nose tugged her from someplace warm and lazy. She brushed at her nose, drifting away once again.

Again, something tickled her nose, and she reached up to swat it away. She gradually became aware of a cricket chirping somewhere nearby. Her eyes opened. Above her, Cade's face hovered, and she could feel the heat from his body so near her own. She looked around.

The picnic. I fell asleep.
“Adam.” She started to sit up, but Cade put a hand on her shoulder.

“He's fine. Just trying to catch tadpoles.”

She noticed the willow twig in his hand, its feathery leaves dangling down toward her stomach. “You were tickling me.”

His smile made her heart skip a beat. “Guilty.” But he didn't
look guilty at all. In fact, he looked completely unrepentant. His jaw was shadowed with a day's worth of stubble, and she thought for the first time that it only added to his rugged good looks.

“Shame on you,” she said, studying for the first time the way the sun had tanned his skin, leaving only fine white lines bursting around the corners of his eyes.

“You're pretty when you're sleeping.”

“Only when I'm sleeping?”
Did I just say that?
She sat up and felt the heavy mane of hair fall onto her back. The pins had finally come loose. In her hair and her brain.