ROMANCE: BIKER ROMANCE: Valentine Biker (MC Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) (New Adult Valentine Romance Short Stories) (173 page)

Chapter 3

For weeks, Lacy labored to prove to her new husband that she would be a worthy partner for him in his mission to make their homestead a thriving place.  His work ethic impressed her thoroughly.  Each day, he rose before the sun and made his way to the mine that lay up the mountain.  Each night when he returned home, covered in the dust of the mines and exhausted from a hard day’s labor, he ate dinner quickly and went right to work on projects around the homestead.  Though she was responsible for the day to day work, he was the one who repaired the equipment and structures on the property.  When he was not fixing one thing or another, he was building new fences and buildings to meet their needs as winter approached. 

Each day, she rose before him to prepare his breakfast and each night she waited for him to arrive home before she ate her own dinner.  He told her at each meal that it was not necessary that she exhaust herself by keeping his schedule, but she had no plans to stop.  She enjoyed caring for people.  For years, she had cared for the children younger than her at the orphanage.  Now though, Terrance was the only person that she had to care for.  Knowing how hard he worked for them and their future together, she decided early on that she was going to make sure that his life was as comfortable as she could make it.

During those first weeks, he remained distant.  Any moment that he was on the homestead was spent working or sleeping.  Those meals together were the only time that they spent together as husband and wife.  Though they were not close, they shared a mutual appreciation for each other.  It was that appreciation that led things between them to finally begin to change.

One particular day, as Terrance was making his way home from the mine, he spied her in the corral he had just finished with a particularly difficult pony that he had had on the homestead for months.  He had thought it would be a good animal to have to pull small carts or to help drag lumber.  The animal, however, had other ideas.  It had been a stubborn creature from the start, unwilling to allow him to get close enough to even put a harness on it.  He had decided weeks before that he was going to drag the thing to town next time he went to sell it for whatever he could get.

With Lacy, though, it appeared to be a different creature.  He stood still, as though frozen, mesmerized by her gentle manner with the animal.  Slowly, she approached the difficult creature.  It appeared at ease with her immediately and she used one fluid motion to place the cart harness around its center.  The animal did not fight or bolt when she did.  Instead, it took a step towards her and took an apple that she offered it directly from her hand.  He had known she was a hard worker, but to see her like that changed something within him.  Suddenly, he wanted to know more about the gentle creature he saw before him.  Perhaps, she could calm the raging storm within him as she had done for the pony.

That night at dinner, after she had served him and sat down to her won plate, he decided that he needed to truly engage with the woman who was now his wife.

“That was good work with that horse today,” he said, slightly amused by the look of surprise on her face.  Clearly, she had not realized she was being observed.  He had been, by necessity, so aware of his surroundings for so long that it warmed his heart to see the sweet innocence of a woman who could allow herself to be completely absorbed in a moment.

“Thank you,” she said, blushing.

“You have a good way about you with the animals,” he continued, unsure exactly how to begin to her to know her better.  Her expression was wary.  She was clearly just as lost in the conversation as he was.

“I've always felt connected to them,” she said, allowing herself to show the joy that animals brought her on her face.  The way that her expression lit up made her look truly beautiful, despite the scars on her face.   Suddenly, he wondered how he had never realized it before.

“Did you have any when you were a young girl?” he asked, glad to have found a topic that he could engage her on that would not lead her to ask questions of him that he did not want to answer.

“Yes, but I was not allowed to take them with me to the orphanage.  The farm animals went to a neighbor so that didn't worry me too awful much because they were good people.  My dog though, he was the sweetest thing but he wasn't much of a herder so nobody had any use for him.  The sheriff took him away but I never knew where they took him.  That was a hardship,” she said, biting back the sob that threatened to escape her throat.  She had worked hard to keep from thinking about that moment for a very long time and it felt very much like a fresh wound to think of it now.

“I'm sorry you had to endure that,” he said, speaking both about her past and current grief about her loss.

“It's the past,” she said, rising to clear the table.  He could feel her closing herself back off.  When she had first come, he had been glad that she had no desire to share her past or to ask him about his.  Now though, he felt a deep desire to know more about the woman that he was going to be sharing his life with.

“Why did you have to go to an orphanage?” he asked bluntly.  Her eyes widened with surprise and he was himself surprised that he had asked her.  Still, he wanted to know and he had no intention of taking the question back.  For the first time in years, he had the desire to connect with another human and he could not step away without an answer.

“I was wondering when we would have this conversation,” she said with a weary sigh.  Slowly, she put the plates in the wash bin and returned to her seat at the table.

“You don't need to talk about it if you do not want to,” he said, aware that the thought of talking about whatever darkness was him her past was causing her pain.

“No, it's alright,” she said with a sad smile on her face.  She tucked her hair behind her ear, a habit he had noticed that she had when she was anxious.  “It will be good for you to know,” she continued.  “My family was a happy one.  I was the youngest girl.   I had two older brothers and an older sister.  My mother and father had a homestead around the size of this one.  We all worked hard but we were so happy.  I was 7 when it happened.  One night, somehow, the oil lamp fell on to one of the straw beds they had for us kids.  The fire tore through the place so fast.  I can still hear the screaming.  The entire place was full of smoke and fire.  I could not see anything.  Suddenly, I felt a strong set of hands on my shoulders. My oldest brother dragged me across the room, fighting off the flames.  He did the best he could to shield me, but as you can see, nothing was left untouched by the flames,” she said as she gestured to her scarred cheek.

“He managed to get us both out the door before the House collapsed.  He didn't survive much longer.  I probably wouldn't have either but our neighbors saw the smoke and came running.  One of them was a midwife.  She knew enough about medicine to keep me going until they could get me to the Doc.  The weeks after are a blur.  When my mind cleared again, I was in Denver with the nuns.  They took good care of me at the orphanage.  I owe the Sisters of Mercy a debt that I can never pay.  They are the reason I have a life at all.”  When she finished speaking, tears glistened in her eyes but she did not give herself over to the grief.  Sitting there, watching her in the light of the candles, Terrance felt something within his heart awaken that he had thought long dead.  Suddenly, he did not know what to do or say next.  It had been a very long time since he had tried to comfort another and he had not faith in himself to say the right thing to her.

“It's getting late.  You ought to go get some rest,” he said, unable to take his eyes from her.  He watched her shake off her sadness and rise again from the table.

“You're right.  Good night,” she said, walking slowly away from him.

“Thank you, for telling me,” he called after her.  He wanted nothing more than to say just the right thing to her to bring her some kind of peace, the kind of peace she had brought to his home.  Those were the only words he could find.

“You're welcome,” she said with a smile, telling him that he must have said something right.  As soon as she closed her bedroom door behind her, the room was colder for the loss of her.

The following morning, Lucy arose at her usual time, but found that Terrance had already left.  It was odd, because it was a Sunday, the one day he did not have to be at the mine and she knew how little he cared to go in to town.  She walked all around the farm, but she could find no trace of him.  All she could think of was that their attempt at emotional intimacy the evening before had made him uncomfortable and he had gone off to put some distance between them.  She could think of nothing else to do but to get to work, so she made her way to the chicken coup to gather eggs. 

When he still had not returned by the time she got back to the house, she settled in to doing the laundry, a task she knew would occupy her hands and mind for at least a few hours.  It was not until nearly lunch time that he came riding back up to the house.  She expected him to go right to the barn and avoid her, but instead he rode right to her before dismounting.

“Where have you been? I was surprised to find you gone this morning,” she said, putting down the laundry basket she had been holding as she put the clothing on the line to dry.

“I had business in town,” he said as he walked towards her, a suspicious smile on his face.

“Town?” she asked in disbelief.  It was true that she did not know her husband well, but he had always been very honest about his feelings about going in to town.

“Yes, don't act so shocked. I go to town, just not often,” he said, clearly annoyed by the delay her questioning was causing.

“Alright,” she said as she began to bend down to lift the basket and return to her work.

“This is for you,” he said, opening his jacket and pulling from it a wriggling ball of fur and thrusting it in to her arms.

“What in the world,” she asked, so stunned that it took her mind a moment to comprehend exactly what was happening.  “A puppy!” she gasped as she realized exactly what he had done.  There, in her arms was a little brown puppy with the sweetest eyes she had ever seen.  She lifted him up to get a better look at him and he licked her cheek, permanently endearing him to her.  Had she not fallen in love with him on sight; that did the trick.  Watching the pure joy that spread across her face made Terrance’s heart skip a beat and it shook him to his core.

“Yes, I thought you might like to have him around the place,” he stammered, taking a step back from her.

“Oh thank you! He is precious.  Thank you so much,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a hug before she even realized what she had done.  When she stepped away again, she was blushing deeply. 

“It was nothing,” he said as he turned and walked to the barn.  Lacy was not at all sure what to think, but she was beginning to feel like she had a husband and not just a business partner and it made her feel more hopeful than she ever had before. 

Keeping the puppy close, she went in to the house and gave him some water and some scraps of meat she had been planning to take to the hogs.  The thought of having such a sweet animal of her own again made her so happy that she found herself giggling with joy like a school girl. 

Chapter 4

A few days later, while Terrance was at the mine, Lacy was sitting outside churning butter when she was a man approaching.  She knew in an instant that it was not Terrance by the way that he carried himself, but he was also a tall man with dark hair, though his green eyes had none of the appeal of Terrance’s and they reminded her of the eyes of a snake, cold.

“Howdy mam,” he said, tipping his hat to her.  Though it was traditionally a sign of respect, it felt more like a mocking gesture to her.  Still, she rose to greet him.

“Hello, what can I do for you sir,” she asked, not letting her guard down.

“Is this Josiah Merchant’s place?” he asked her, his eyes locked on her to read any signs of deception.  All she felt, though, was confusion.

“No sir, by husband's name is Terrance Jordan,” she said honestly, but he did not seem to be hearing her.

“I think we are talking about the same man.  Want I can't figure out is how he got himself a sweet little wife like you,” he said, looking her up and down as though she was a piece of meat.  No man had ever dared to look at her in such a way and it made her skin crawl.  Knowing that she was there completely alone with this man, made her want to run in to the house and lock the door.  Still, his nature told her that he was a predator.  The last thing that you should do when being stalked by a predator was to run so she stood her ground, her eyes locked on his.