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Authors: Bice Prudence

The Widower's Wife (14 page)

BOOK: The Widower's Wife
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Eleven
 

Jillian climbed up on a rock perched at the edge of the lake and sat down. She supposed she was on the opposite side of the lake from where the picnic was going on, but gratefully, the island in the center blocked her view. She didn’t want to see anyone, or have anyone see her.

The tears burned hot and new as Jillian thought again of how humiliated she had felt. She could never understand how one person could be so cruel to another. That was something she could never tolerate, even in her elevated station back home. She prided herself on always treating others kindly and with compassion.

She had removed her shoes and stockings earlier, so she let her feet dip down into the cool, refreshing water. Strands of her disobedient hair had come loose when she had taken off in a run as soon as she was past the view of anyone at the picnic. She reached up and pulled the rest of the pins out, letting her unruly hair fall, unhindered, and tucked the hairpins into her dress pocket. Her anger made her feel rebellious, and letting her hair hang freely about her felt like an act of rebellion. She ran her fingers through to free it of some of the tangles, and then stopped to wipe the hot tears away from her face once again.

Jillian chastised herself for caring what anyone else thought of her. Only the opinions of those she loved and those who loved her should really matter. Who did that Sarah Bingham think she was, anyway? What she said was surely out of jealousy and spite, but still, it hurt her pride to hear them laugh at her the way they had.

Jillian had just waved good-bye to Aunt Betty and Uncle Ned and was walking away, close to the shoreline, when she saw a group of young women about her age sitting by a tree next to the water’s edge. She recognized Sarah Bingham because she had seen her sitting with her mother and father after lunch. Olivia Jenkins was sitting with them also. Jillian was sure that Sarah had seen her approaching, but she quickly turned back to her friends and then heard her address them in a voice a little louder than would be normal, sitting in such a group.

“My mother told me that she answered his ad for a mail-order bride. Can you imagine being so desperate for a man that you’d have to answer the ad of someone you’d never met? That must mean no one she knew would have her!” Jillian froze when everyone in the group, except Olivia, burst out laughing. “Well, if you ask me,” she continued, “Dalton could have done a lot better for himself. He should have asked her to send a picture before he agreed to the marriage.” She then looked over at Jillian, feigning shock that she might have overhead their conversation. “Why, Mrs. McCullough,” Jillian’s only satisfaction was that it seemed painful for the spiteful woman to address her as such. “I didn’t see you standing there. Oh, I’m so sorry if I said anything . . . Oh, dear, but I had no idea . . . . Were you standing there this whole time?” Jillian took a deep breath, ignored their stares, and hurried past them. The last thing she heard was the group of girls burst out laughing again.

 

Jillian’s feet were getting cold, so she took them out of the water. Realizing she ought to compose herself and get back to the picnic before anyone worried about her, she stood and took a step off the rock when her foot slipped, and she suddenly lost her balance. Before she could let out a scream, she heard a splash and felt herself caught by someone’s powerful arms. She looked up into Dalton’s handsome face. After the worried look left him, the corners of his mouth turned up into a grin.

“Now, don’t you dare laugh at me, Dalton McCullough,” she scolded, causing a deep hearty laugh to erupt from him. She tried to wiggle free of his arms.

“Now, hold on there, missy! You’ll make us both fall in the lake if you keep squirming around like that.” Easily lifting Jillian, he stepped out of the water and onto the shoreline.

“Thank you. Now, put me down . . . please,” she insisted.

“We’d better get you a little farther from the water first, just so you’re safe.” He laughed again and walked to a nearby tree. “There now,” he said as he lowered her legs, placing her bare feet on the soft grass. As he stood next to her, he asked, “Are you all right?” He still hadn’t removed his arm from around her. As she looked up into his face, he brushed the remains of a tear from her face with his free hand.

“What brings you out this far anyway? Aunt Betty and Uncle Ned sent me out to find you. Just in time too.” He laughed lightly. “You might have had to return to the picnic looking like a drowned rat instead of an angel.”

Jillian smiled. “Well, Aunt Betty suggested I take a walk and look around a bit. I guess I lost track of how far I’d gone.” She was trying really hard to slow her heartbeat and will away the goose bumps on her skin where he was holding her.

“She told you to go for a walk, huh?” Looking as though he’d just figured something out, he leaned one hand against the tree above her head. “I think we have a couple of meddling old matchmakers watching our children back at the picnic.”

“Matchmakers? What do you . . . ?” Suddenly, she understood too. “Why, those two . . . Would they really try and . . . Oh, I’m so sorry, Dalton.”

Without warning, he leaned in close and brushed his lips next to her ear. “Are you really?” he whispered. Jillian’s ear began to tingle, and she felt her heart take flight. He had such an effect on her! She didn’t know how to answer him.

“I . . . I . . . um,” was all she could get out. Dalton’s lips had moved to her neck, and the heat of his breath on her skin caused her to shiver. In a moment, his lips were at her ear again, and she felt excess moisture flood her mouth.

“Well, we ought not disappoint them,” he whispered. Jillian’s body trembled with anticipation. His lips then found hers, and their warm caress was heaven. She felt her body melt into him, and in an instant his arms were around her. At first his kiss was soft, but slowly the passion began to increase. She was still leaning back against the tree, and as their kiss intensified, she was crushed even closer to him. She was having trouble catching her breath, but she was too overjoyed to be in his arms once again to care. She was his, her mind said over and over. She belonged to him. Her heart leapt at the thought. Finally, unable to breathe, she was compelled to put her hands on his shoulders and gently push him away. Immediately, he broke their kiss, and she took deep gulps of air back into her lungs.

“We should probably be getting back,” she said softly, not looking into his eyes. “They’re probably getting worried about us.” He released her, and, as she stepped away, he reached down, plucked a long blade of grass, leaned up against the tree, and began chewing the end of it.

Jillian walked over to the bush where she had left her stockings and shoes. Embarrassed by her audience, since he hadn’t yet taken his eyes off her, she quickly put her stockings back on. She then found a rock to sit on while replacing her shoes. When she was finished, she retrieved the pins from her pocket and began to redo her hair.

“You can leave it down if you’d like. I don’t mind.” Jillian looked up and saw Dalton grinning at her while still chewing on the blade of grass.

“And what would people say, Dalton McCullough, if I came walking back with you, with my hair all undone?” She gave him a stern look.

“Probably what they’re already saying . . . that I’m the luckiest man in all of the state of Wisconsin.” That caused her to blush, but then she remembered Sarah Bingham, and her mood once again became solemn.

“No, I don’t think that’s what they’re saying at all.” She couldn’t keep the hurt look from returning to her face. He looked confused at her meaning. She ignored him, finished her hair, and stood, ready to go. He took her arm and they both started walking back together.

Neither one said anything to each other as they walked, both lost in their own thoughts. As they turned the last bend in the shoreline, they began to hear the sounds of the picnic again. Dalton felt Jillian stiffen. He wondered again what had happened that had caused the evidence of tears he’d seen earlier. He looked up at that moment and caught sight of Miss Sarah Bingham. She was staring at them and looking none too pleased. She had made more than one play for Dalton in the last year, each of which he had emphatically turned down. It wouldn’t surprise him to find out that she had done or said something that had been the cause of Jillian’s tears.

Dalton took his arm out of Jillian’s and put it around her waist, pulling her in close as they walked past. He leaned in intimately and whispered something into her ear. She laughed and he laughed with her. Abruptly, he stopped and turned her towards him. With a twinkle in his eye, he kissed her squarely on the lips, in front of everyone, ignoring the shocked look on her face. He smiled broadly, looked up, and waved at Miss Bingham like he had just noticed her standing there. Dalton put his arm around Jillian once again, and they headed back towards Uncle Ned, Aunt Betty, and the waiting children. When they got to their blanket, Aunt Betty was grinning from ear to ear.

“Now, don’t you go looking so pleased with yourself, dear Auntie. We know what you’ve been up to today. You haven’t pulled anything over on us,” proclaimed Dalton. But she didn’t stop smiling. He knew she had seen the kiss he had just given Jillian.

Jillian looked around. “Where did Uncle Ned go?”

Aunt Betty’s smile faded. “Well, when Jenny saw Dalton kiss you, she ran off. Uncle Ned went after her.”

Jillian’s heart sank. What damage had been done this time? She felt like she was finally just getting through to Jenny. She felt they were so close to finding a peaceful middle ground. Now all of that would be undone. Jillian was stirring things up instead of making them better. She couldn’t bear to see the young girl’s heart broken any more. There was only one way to get things back on track. She would have to avoid Dalton and squelch her growing feelings for him, for Jenny’s sake. She looked up at him desperately. Would that be possible? She could tell from the look on his face that he understood their dilemma as well as she did, without putting words to it.

“It’s getting late. Maybe we should head home,” Jillian solemnly suggested. Lisa and Brenn looked tuckered out, and Jillian had surely had an emotional day herself.

“But they haven’t announced the winner of the cooking contests yet.” Aunt Betty frowned. A sudden thought brightened her face once again. “I can’t wait to get a look at old Mavis Bingham’s face when they announce your peach raspberry pie as the first place winner. Somebody’s been needin’ to knock her off her pedestal for a long time.” She looked like a child waiting for a present. “Besides, Uncle Ned and I thought maybe we could take the children home with us tonight and you two youngsters could stay for the dance.”

“NO!” Both Dalton and Jillian protested at the same time. Aunt Betty was taken aback, but noticed the determined look in their eyes. Something had changed and not for the better.

“I mean, Jillian’s right, Aunt Betty,” Dalton began quickly. “The children are tired, and they would be better off sleeping in their own beds.” He looked over at Jillian for support.

“Yes, I’m feeling a bit tired as well.” Jillian feigned a yawn. “If you wouldn’t mind bringing my dishes home with you when you leave, I’d be grateful.” She looked over at Dalton and spoke. “Maybe you should see if you can find Jenny and Uncle Ned. I’ll get the other children over to the wagon and wait for you.”

“But—” was all Aunt Betty could get out. Sometimes even the best- laid plans got foiled.

 

They rode in silence back to the house. Both Brenn and Lisa were sleeping and Jenny was brooding. Jillian looked back at her. When would all ever be right with the world for her?

Jillian pondered on Dalton and his strange reaction on their walk back to the picnic. They had been casually strolling arm in arm when she had spotted Miss Sarah Bingham eyeing her—the woman was fairly glaring at them. Then all of a sudden Dalton had let go of her and put his arm around her waist, pulling her intimately close. The next thing she knew, he leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Don’t ask any questions, but I want you to laugh out loud like you just heard something very funny.” Too amused at his odd behavior, she complied with his request and randomly laughed out loud, which he followed up with a laugh of his own. Without warning, he turned her to face him, his eyes twinkling, and kissed her soundly on the lips, in front of everyone. She knew she must have looked shocked, but he just put his arm back around her waist like it was the most normal thing in the world, and they had continued on to join their family.

She still didn’t know what he’d been up to exactly, though she suspected it had something to do with Sarah Bingham by the way he waved enthusiastically over at her immediately after they’d kissed. She had intended on questioning him about it until they’d found out about Jenny running off, and then it just slipped her mind. Now, it seemed too awkward to talk about.

The wagon turned past the gate and into the yard. Jillian was glad to be home.
Home,
she thought. Despite everything that happened, or perhaps in spite of some of it, this still truly felt like home.

Twelve
 

Jillian looked out at the storm clouds mounting and sighed. She wouldn’t be able to work in the garden today. By the time all the chores were done, it would surely be raining. The rain would be good though. The crops had become drier by the day from the lack of rain. She could see that Dalton was worried. The corn wouldn’t make it if they didn’t get some moisture soon. Well, their prayers were about to be answered.

It had been a week and a half since the picnic. She and Dalton had hardly spoken to each other, and he seemed to be particularly bent on avoiding her. A few nights after the picnic, after Jillian had put Lisa and Brenn to bed, she had gone to Jenny’s room and knocked on the door. There was no answer, so Jillian opened the door a crack.

“Jenny.” She paused and waited for her to reply. “Jenny, can I come in and talk to you?” There was still no answer, so Jillian opened the door and slipped inside, leaving the door open a crack. Jenny was lying on her bed, just staring at the ceiling. Jillian sat beside her on the bed, and Jenny turned away from her and faced the wall.

“Jenny, I know this has been hard on you, and I understand why you’re upset with me.” Jillian tentatively reached out, placing her hand gently on Jenny’s back. She hadn’t touched the child in the five weeks she’d been here, and her arms ached to hold and comfort her. “You know, I just wish we could at least be friends.” If only she knew what Jenny was thinking. What ideas and thoughts were milling around in that young head of hers? Maybe she was just as confused as Jillian and didn’t know what everyone expected from her. Maybe she really didn’t mind having a new ma, but just had forgotten how to act with one. Could Jillian help her remember? Suddenly, she had a strong impression to try something different.

Jillian lay down on the bed next to Jenny and put her arm around her. She felt Jenny stiffen slightly, but she ignored it. Jillian started to hum softly. It was a lullaby she had heard somewhere. She couldn’t quite remember the words, only the melody that was playing in her mind and in her heart. Maybe it was a song her mother had sung to her when she was a child. She stopped trying to analyze it. It didn’t matter where the song had come from, only that it felt right. She just kept humming and caressing Jenny’s head and hair with her hand. All of a sudden, the words came to her and she began singing them softly over and over again. Before long, Jillian could tell by Jenny’s slowed breathing that the young girl had fallen asleep. Jillian did not get up immediately, but stayed there thinking, and it wasn’t long before she had dozed off herself.

BOOK: The Widower's Wife
2.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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