Authors: Loving Miranda
Teresa Bodwell (11 page)
Miranda still had trouble believing that she was seeing tears glistening in Mercy’s eyes. Something had changed her sister in the past year. Clarisse, Mercy, and even Pa seemed to think it was a good change. Miranda didn’t know what to think. There was a part of her that figured the independent life Mercy had as a widow was ideal. But deep in her heart, where her good sense held no sway, Miranda wanted exactly what Mercy had. A man who loved her, and the chance to raise a family with that man.
“I’m glad for you. I am really. . . . Only I worry that he could hurt you.”
“Hurt me?” Mercy tilted her head, her eyebrows coming together in a puzzled expression. “He loves me. Of course that means hurting me sometimes. The ones we love have the ability to really hurt us, much more than a stranger ever could.” Mercy stretched a hand toward her, and Miranda thought perhaps she meant to touch her scarred face, but she squeezed her shoulder instead. “That is no reason to avoid love. Trust me on this.” She pushed herself to her feet. “I’ll leave you to fix supper now, I’ve got to bring the cows in for milking.” She took a few steps and turned. “You were right about the cows, too. It’s nice to have milk and butter.”
Miranda brushed the last strands of white silk off the ear in her hand as she watched Mercy walk away. Her sister had been given a second chance at happiness. Miranda closed her eyes and sent up a quick prayer for her own second chance. “I’ll be careful this time, Lord. If you give me another chance—I won’t waste it.”
Chapter 10
It had been a long while since Miranda had done hard work. It felt good. She stepped out of the small cabin her family called home, pulling the wet mop behind her. She’d cleaned everything from top to bottom. Now, some work in the garden, while the floor dried, then she could start supper. The water in the bucket was filthy, so she carried it out back to dump.
All day long she’d wanted to find a moment alone with Mercy, but Thad had managed to find chores that kept him underfoot. Now he seemed to be gone and Miranda couldn’t find Mercy, either. She wiped her hands over her apron before carrying the bucket and mop out to the shed. There she considered the tools she would need for digging potatoes and onions. She sighed. Perhaps this would be a good day to work on putting up the beets.
She’d have to do something with the apples, too. The trees had never given so much fruit before. Mercy would enjoy some apple butter, and that could be preserved. She glanced up at the sun, high in the sky. Too late to start all that today. Time enough for an apple pie for dinner. Pa’s favorite. She was going to need a lot more sugar next time they went into town.
“Better make a shopping list,” she mumbled.
She’d pick some apples after digging potatoes. First, she should check on Pa. Maybe Jonathan was bored and would want to work with her for a while. He seemed to enjoy anything that involved digging in the dirt. She hurried past the barn in the direction of Pa’s workshop.
“No!” Mercy cried out.
“Yes, I think so.” Thad’s voice sounded menacing.
A loud crash followed by Mercy groaning sent Miranda rushing into the barn. She grabbed the shovel they used for cleaning out the stalls.
“What the hell are you doing to my sister?”
Miranda cursed herself for not wearing her gun. She raised the shovel, ready to use it over Thad’s skull if need be. He was on top of Mercy in a pile of straw.
“Stop!” Mercy yelled.
Miranda managed to hold back, to keep from bringing the shovel crashing over Thad. He rolled away from Mercy, who quickly pulled her dress over her naked body.
Miranda stood gaping at them, holding the shovel up in midair, still ready to strike.
“What the hell are you doing?” she managed to say, though the answer to her question was obvious.
Thad kept his back to her and she realized he was buttoning his pants. Miranda lowered the shovel. “Hell,” she muttered, looking down at the dirt under her feet. Maybe she could take the shovel and dig herself a deep hole to crawl into.
“I thought you were busy in the kitchen.” Mercy’s voice was higher than usual.
“I finished cleaning and came out to check on Pa.” Miranda cleared her throat. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Thad reach down to help his wife to her feet.
“I reckon I should make sure Jonathan isn’t giving Pa too much trouble.” He caressed Mercy’s cheek. “I’ll bet the boy would like to pick some apples.”
Miranda looked up in time to see Mercy nod and Thad stalk out of the barn. Mercy watched her husband walk away, then turned, her face flushed a red so bright it shone through her sun-bronzed skin. “Miranda!” Mercy growled. “What possessed you to . . .” Her sister took in a deep breath and released it. “We thought we were alone here,” she said more calmly.
“I’m sorry, I just . . . I heard a noise in here and I thought . . . Hell, with the baby coming and all, I’d have thought you’d be more careful.”
Mercy closed her eyes and Miranda could almost hear her sister counting to try and calm herself. “Miranda, is that what you . . . Are you worried about the baby?”
Mercy pulled at the shovel and Miranda realized she’d been gripping it so tightly her hand was tingling. She released it and Mercy took the handle and leaned it against the wall. “Let’s go for a walk. We need to talk about this.”
Her older sister pulled an arm through Miranda’s and they walked out into the sunshine together, feeling the warming rays against their backs as they made their way toward the aspens that screened Jake’s Creek from the house. It wasn’t until they were close enough to hear the murmuring of the stream that Mercy spoke.
“I appreciate you lookin’ out for me and the baby, but there’s truly no need for you to be concerned.” Mercy squeezed Miranda’s arm tight against her side. “I think maybe I need to explain . . . about Thad.”
“I know . . . I know you’re married and he’s entitled to—”
Mercy giggled. It was a deep, throaty sound, but still held a bit of the girl Miranda remembered from her childhood. Mercy tugged Miranda to a stop and turned to face her sister. “You make it sound like it’s his right and my obligation.”
Miranda nodded. That was how she understood it. Exactly.
Mercy flushed again, glowing in the sunlight, even more beautiful than Miranda remembered her. She’d always been so proud of her older sister and felt so embarrassed that Mercy chose to hide her beauty behind her rough men’s clothing and bossy ways. Now Miranda wanted to hide.
“It isn’t like that.” She sighed and looked across the creek up to the mountains that stood sentinel over their ranch. “What Thad and I share is special for both of us.” She favored her sister with a smile. “I don’t expect you to understand; you’ve not experienced it for yourself.”
Miranda blushed and walked away so that her back was to her older sister. Lord, it was hard to lie to her. Not that she had experienced anything she’d call pleasurable, but she was hardly the innocent Mercy assumed her to be.
“I . . . I know it’s difficult, but it’s time we talk about this. I tried before, but . . .” Mercy walked up behind her and touched her shoulder. “At Fort Kearny, when it seemed you were going to marry Harold Pearson. We talked some about this, didn’t we?”
“You said I shouldn’t be afraid.” Miranda managed almost to sound normal. “That it hurt a little at first, but it wasn’t a bad hurt and it gets better.”
“Is that what I said?”
Miranda thought back to the hurried advice her sister had given her before they parted. Most of it had been about money and protecting herself from the soldiers. There had been a brief talk about what to expect in the marriage bed. “That’s all I remember.”
“Well, I reckon I left out a good bit.” Mercy walked over to the creek and sat on a rock. She pulled off her boots and stockings and wriggled her toes in the water.
Miranda pulled off her own boots and waded in, glad the uncomfortable conversation was over. She lifted her skirt and walked out to the middle of the stream where the water was halfway to her knees. The creek was so cold her feet went numb almost at once.
“Must have been a wet summer,” she said. The creek would usually be much lower by October.
Mercy smiled up at her. “Yes, we were due one after five drought years.” She reached into the water, pulled out a stone, and studied it.
Miranda watched her sister turn the rock in her hand. She rubbed at the mud, then bent to swish the rock in the water and study it some more. “Jonathan likes rocks with shiny bits in them. Of course, he likes them better when he finds them himself.” She studied the rock for another moment, then dropped it back into the water. “Do you remember when we were girls and we wondered what it would be like to ride on a shooting star?”
Miranda smiled. Her sister had finally recognized that Miranda had grown up. They had been girls together, and now they were women together.
“We talked about how it would be to fly so fast through the black sky, remember?” Mercy continued.
“I remember you talking endlessly about the stars.” Miranda kicked water at her sister.
Mercy laughed. “You’ve never been curious about them?”
“I reckoned you’d be the one to fly up there, not me.”
Her older sister’s face grew somber as she looked up at Miranda. To escape her sister’s inspection, Miranda kicked water up at her.
“Hey!” Mercy scooped up a giant wave with her hands and Miranda was forced to retreat to the other side of the narrow creek.
Mercy’s laugh floated over the water and Miranda couldn’t help but join in. They faced each other, laughing. Mercy stopped first, gasping for breath and holding her side. Miranda splashed across the stream, feeling her gut twist.
“Are you all right?” Miranda put a hand on each of Mercy’s shoulders.
Her older sister nodded and smiled. “Got to laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe.” She brushed a damp lock of hair back from her face. “Don’t you start treating me like a china doll; bad enough I have Thad fussing over me all the time.” She used a thumb to wipe water off of Miranda’s cheek. “Look at the two of us acting like a couple of little girls.”
Miranda smiled, glad to have her sister distracted. “We should change into dry clothes.”
They collected their boots and turned back to the house, walking arm in arm, bare feet padding against the sun-warmed earth.
“What I’ve been trying so damn hard to say is this,” Mercy said. “I know now what it feels like to ride a shooting star. At least as close as I’m ever likely to come to it. It’s what Thad does to me when he touches me; I feel like I’m flying across the night sky. It isn’t only Thad who gets pleasure from our loving. And you don’t need to worry about the baby—”
“I heard you tell him ‘no.’”
“Did I?” Mercy squeezed her brows together, then smiled. “Oh, yes, I did say that.” She glanced at Miranda, then back up to the mountains. “He suggested we wait until tonight and I said ‘no.’ He likes to tease me, but it didn’t last long. I have ways of getting what I want from him.” She cleared her throat. “We really did think we were alone.”
“You need to take care of yourself.”
She reached for Miranda’s hand and squeezed it. “You know how much it means to me to be carrying a baby after all those years of believing I couldn’t.”
Miranda nodded.
“I wouldn’t do anything to risk harming our little miracle.”
Miranda knew her sister spoke the truth. “I know that, only”—she drew in a long breath—“I reckon a baby growing inside you must be a fragile little thing.”
“Fragile, yes, but not like a window pane. We . . . Thad and I are careful. He cares as much as I do about our baby. He’s always been tender with me, but since we found out I was pregnant, he is so gentle.”
Miranda chewed on her lower lip.
“Miranda.” Mercy sighed.
The pity Miranda saw in her sister’s eyes made her want to cry.
Mercy sat on the porch step and pulled her sister down beside her. “Did someone hurt you? . . . When you were away?”
Miranda shook her head. “Why do you ask?”
“I don’t mean to pry into your business, Miranda. But if you want to tell me anything . . .” Miranda turned away from Mercy’s probing eyes. “I know you’ve seen a lot more of the world in the last year, and I can only imagine . . . Hell, even here in Fort Victory there’s plenty of ugliness. But please trust me about Thad. He’s a good man.”
Miranda blinked back a tear. “I can see he is. He loves you.”
“I hope one day you’ll be lucky enough to find someone who loves you as much.”
“I don’t know . . .” Miranda swiped at the tear that rolled down her cheek. “How will I know when I’ve found him?”
“When it’s right you’ll know.”
“Easy for you to say, you’ve chosen two men and been right both times. I’ve chosen two and look what happened.”
“Two? So there was someone besides Harold?”
Miranda stared across the yard at the barn. “It was a silly mistake I made in Philadelphia. Luckily, you sent for me before it could go too far.”
When her sister didn’t respond, Miranda turned to see her staring. She waited for Mercy to accuse her of lying. Instead, she reached over and took Miranda’s hand, giving it a warm squeeze. “Don’t let a mistake or two in your past keep you from listening to your heart. You gave me that advice, remember?”
Miranda looked into her sister’s eyes. “I don’t think I understood how much it might hurt, opening up your heart to the wrong man.”
“I won’t promise you it’ll be painless. But I can tell you loneliness hurts just as much, and love is the only cure.”
“I won’t be lonely, Mercy. Not while I have you and Pa.”
“I’m glad to have you here, but for your sake I hope when you’re ready you find your own home. If I’m lucky it will be nearby. I want my children to know their Aunt Miranda.”
“I want to know them, too.” Miranda smiled at her sister. At least she could be certain she would find love here at home.
Miranda walked out to the pasture where the two milk cows spent their days grazing contentedly. “That’s a nice simple life,” she muttered as she opened the gate and walked in.
She’d left the supper cooking and offered to bring the cows in for milking while Mercy helped Jonathan with his lessons. Pa would keep an eye on the stove, making certain that Mercy didn’t do anything that could ruin the stew. How her sister had managed to grow up without learning how to cook was beyond Miranda’s understanding. She’d always thought her sister was smarter, stronger, and just better at everything. Only in the past few days had Miranda realized how important her own skills were to the family. It was good to feel needed.
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