A Dream to Call My Own (4 page)

“Do you suppose Dave and Lacy made it through the night without trouble?” Beth asked.

“Where those two are concerned, there’s always trouble. I’ll be fortunate if the house is still standing when we return.”

Beth gave an unladylike snort. “And if Dave’s still alive, it will only be because he managed to outwit my sister.”

Patience began making hotcakes. “I don’t know why those two can’t see how perfect they are for each other.”

“I was just thinking that last night,” Beth admitted. “Maybe we need to help them along. You know—help them see the attributes of the other. Put them in situations where they will see that they can do more than argue and bicker with each other.”

“It’s a thought, though it will probably take a good knock on the head to get any sense into those two when it comes to matters of the heart. Neither one seems inclined to give the other even an inch of space.”

Beth shook her head in agreement.

“We’ll pray for them,” Patience declared. “In time, maybe the good Lord will help them see that they really care for each other.”

“That’ll probably be the only way,” Beth said. “An act of God.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Hank finished buttoning his starched white shirt just as Julianne began to cry. He peered into the cradle and marveled once again that God had done such an incredible work. The baby seemed oblivious to his presence. Her tiny eyes were squinted closed and face reddened from her effort to get attention. Even so, he thought her the most beautiful creation in the world. It humbled him greatly to know he’d had even the smallest part to do with her existence.

Gwen stretched in bed. “Would you bring her to me? She’s hungry, no doubt.”

Looking at the small squirming bundle and then to his wife, Hank smiled. “She’s demanding, that’s for sure. I heard her cry several times last night.”

“I think she’s absolutely perfect.”

Baby Julianne began to cry all the more. Hank reached down and drew her into his arms. She hardly weighed anything at all. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever held such a tiny infant.

The baby began to nuzzle against him, and Hank laughed. “Sorry, little one, but I can’t do you any good.” He looked up at Gwen. “But I know who can.”

Hank took a step to cross to the bed and caught his boot on the rocker of the cradle. In the flash of a moment, he clutched Julianne tight to his chest while he fell to one knee.

Gwen gasped and threw back the covers as if to come to their rescue. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Hank said in disgust. He got to his feet and handed her the baby. “She’s fine, too.”

“What happened?” Gwen took the crying baby and immediately put Julianne to her breast to calm her.

His temper got the best of him. “What do you suppose? I tripped.”

Hank felt stupid. He could have fallen on the child and killed her. “I shouldn’t even have picked her up.” He crossed the room and got his coat. “From now on, I won’t.”

“Oh, Hank, it was an accident.”

He looked at his wife. Despite her hair mussed from sleep, she had never been more beautiful. Hank calmed just a bit. “Sometimes I feel like I’m really failing you, Gwen.”

“But why?”

He shook his head. “I can’t explain it.”

Gwen’s expression softened. “Please try. Come sit with me.”

With a sigh, Hank put his coat aside. He came to the bed and sat down beside her. Gwen reached out her hand. “Tell me what’s bothering you, Hank.”

“I just feel ill-equipped to do what needs to be done. I thought I’d done a good thing by buying Mr. Vanhouten’s land, but now with things going as they are, I don’t think it was a good investment. If we wanted to start ranching it would be different, but I know even less about that than about running a frontier mercantile. Business at the store goes well enough, but not as smoothly as I would like. Now this. If I’d harmed her . . .” His voice trailed off.

Gwen squeezed his hand. “You are a good man, Hank. And you will be a great father.”

“But there’s so much I don’t know. Montana, fatherhood, even being a Christian. I feel like I completely make a mess of things on a daily basis.”

Nodding, Gwen reached up to touch his face. Their eyes met. “Everyone feels like that from time to time. I’m terrified of motherhood, yet I want it more than anything. Julianne means more to me than I can say, but I worry that I, too, will do something to harm her. And if that happened, I don’t think I could live with myself.”

Hank shook his head. “You mustn’t say such things. You are going to be a wonderful mother.” He drew a deep breath. “I’m sorry I sounded harsh. I was angry at myself—not you.”

She smiled. “I know. But, Hank, even if something had happened to cause her harm, I wouldn’t blame you. Julianne is in God’s hands. We have to believe that. Children die all the time. I can scarcely bear to think of it, but they do. Throughout my pregnancy, I thought of such things, and Patience was good to help calm me. Even when I was delivering Julianne, I kept remembering my mother’s death.”

“I worried that you would.” He took hold of her hand and held it close. “I feared for you, as well.”

“All we can do is put our trust in the Lord. Death and sickness are a part of life; we cannot escape from it. I pray God will give us long years with our daughter and any other children He blesses us with, but if not, I know He’s already made provision.”

Her words were like a balm on Hank’s soul. “I know you’re right.” He glanced at the clock and let go of her hand. “I have to get the store opened. I’ll be back to see you at lunch. Send someone if you need me sooner.” He kissed her forehead, then gently touched his fingers to the baby’s head. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, my darling.”

Hank crossed the room and turned at the door. He was so very blessed to have Gwen in his life. A niggling doubt crossed his mind, however. He should be the one to comfort her with words of faith—not the other way around.

Will I ever be the godly man she needs me to be?

It was still snowing when Lacy awoke. She stood at the window of her bedroom for a long time and contemplated how to handle the day. She would have to face Dave, after all that had happened the night before, and it made her feel very uncomfortable. How could she possibly look him in the eye after having responded to him in such a wanton fashion?

She leaned her cheek against the icy windowpane. “What’s wrong with me?”

The silent room offered no answer. Lacy straightened and looked to her clothes. She knew she would have to dress and face the day, but the thought of it was almost terrifying.

What must he think of me? What will he expect? Should I apologize
immediately or pretend that nothing happened?

Lacy considered these things even as she pulled on her skirt. She didn’t understand her feelings. There was something about Dave Shepard that seemed to draw out all of her emotions at once. She could find herself so angry with him—frustrated because he treated her like a child. Then she could turn around and kiss him with more passion than she knew she possessed.

The buttons on her blouse were tiny and troubled her shaking fingers. None of this made sense. Every time Dave touched her—goodness, every time she thought of him touching her, Lacy felt her knees go weak.

“Do I love him?”

How could a person even be sure about such things? She’d listened to her sisters talk about their feelings for Hank and Nick, but she couldn’t honestly say she’d ever explored the depths of her own heart when it came to Dave.

“I’ve not even considered getting married,” she murmured. Why, even when Cubby declared his desire to court her, Lacy hadn’t taken the matter seriously. She’d not given it a second thought.

She sat down to comb out her hair and thought about the situation until her head throbbed. Lacy finally determined that falling in love wasn’t something she could allow herself. It would steal her focus away from getting justice for her father.

But just as quickly as she settled on that thought, Lacy reminded herself that her very trip to the Shepard ranch had come about because of her discomfort when Beth announced her pregnancy. Lacy wanted a husband and family of her own; there was no denying that. It was as if there were two warring parties inside Lacy’s body—the logical reasoning of her brain and the emotions of her heart.

With her hair finally braided into a single plait, Lacy knew she couldn’t put off the inevitable. She smoothed her brown wool skirt, drew a deep breath, and opened the bedroom door.

She could hear someone in the kitchen humming. No doubt Dave probably wondered why she wasn’t up yet. Then again, maybe he was just as glad she wasn’t. Lacy could smell the undeniable aroma of coffee and bacon and felt her stomach clench in hunger. With her failure to show up, Dave had apparently started the morning meal.

Dave stood at the stove pouring a cup of coffee when Lacy finally braved the room. “Morning.”

The humming stopped as he turned. “Morning.” He looked as uncomfortable as she felt. “It’s still snowing.”

Lacy nodded. “I see that.” She forced herself to walk confidently across the room. “I see also that you have the bacon cooking. Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s not a problem. I’ve cooked for myself plenty of times.”

Lacy’s fingers trembled as she took up her apron. “Well, I can see to it now. Have you already taken care of the livestock?”

He moved to the kitchen table and took a seat before replying. “I did. Fed and watered the horses. Milked the cows. Chickens aren’t laying much.”

“Ours weren’t, either,” Lacy said, forcing her thoughts on anything but the longing she had to throw herself into Dave’s arms. “We had them on the back porch, but it wasn’t helping all that much with the temperatures being so low.”

Lacy took up some of the bread she’d helped to bake and began to slice it. “I’ll toast this to go with the bacon. There’s plenty of applesauce and cheese, too.” She sawed at the loaf as if it were a log, smashing the soft center until the piece looked something like a U. Drawing a deep breath, Lacy forced her touch to go lighter with the next piece. She would have to say something about the previous night. She couldn’t just keep mutilating the bread.

She dropped the knife on the counter and turned to face Dave. He was watching her intently, completely disregarding his coffee.

“Look, I . . . well . . . I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what you must think of me. My behavior last night was completely uncalled for and entirely out of character for me.” She began to twist her hands and found she couldn’t keep herself from pacing.

“I don’t know why I acted that way, and I know you must think very badly of me.” She paused, almost hoping Dave would say something, but he didn’t, and that only served to make her feel all the more uncomfortable.

“The past few weeks have had me fit to be tied. I suppose a lot of it has to do with the weather,” she continued. “But that doesn’t mean I should . . . act . . . well, you know how I acted.”

The silence was about to kill her. Pausing at the far end of the kitchen, Lacy finally braved a glance at Dave. He got up slowly, never letting his focus stray from her face. With determined steps he crossed the room to where she stood.

Lacy knew he was going to take her in his arms. She stiffened against any hold he might take, but he didn’t even try to touch her.

“You did nothing wrong, Lacy.” His words were soft and alluring.

Her mind whirled with a hundred things to say, but nothing seemed to make much sense. She lowered her head and stammered to explain herself. “I . . . well . . . when you kissed me . . . I . . .” Oh, why couldn’t she speak reasonably?

He lifted her chin and Lacy met his blue-eyed gaze once again. There was something in his expression that pushed away all possible hope of reason. Lacy felt as if she were melting right into the floorboards.

“You did nothing wrong. When I kissed you, you responded exactly as I’d hoped you would.”

“Only a loose woman would carry on so,” Lacy said, trying hard to keep her wits.

“Or a woman in love,” Dave said softly. “Why are you fighting this?”

She shook her head and tried to back up, but she had nowhere to go. Her back was against the wall already. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He smiled ever so slightly. “Let me remind you, then.”

Lacy’s eyes widened as he pulled her into his arms. She felt the strength of his well-muscled arms as they tightened around her.

“Are you starting to remember?” he asked, almost teasingly.

She started to reply but was instantly silenced when Dave kissed her. Lacy knew she was in trouble. Dave Shepard had some sort of power over her that she could not explain. Was he right? Was she in love with him? As much as they fought, how could that possibly be?

Dave’s kiss deepened, and Lacy had no will to fight him. She wanted his kiss. She wanted it very much. Her heart hammered, and everything but Dave faded from her mind.

Without warning, he pulled back. He didn’t release her, but Lacy felt as though she were about to fall into a void. She tightened her hold on him.

“We’re meant to be together, Lacy. I’ve known it for a long time. I was just waiting for you to figure it out for yourself. I can’t wait anymore. I don’t want to play games.”

“I . . . don’t know. . . . I can’t think.”

“Good.” He grinned. “That’ll make it easier for me to say what I need to say.”

He kissed her again, only this time it was brief and less intrusive. “Marry me, Lacy.”

Those three words seemed to set off an alarm in her brain. Lacy’s eyes flew open, and she pulled back hard only to slam up against the wall. “What?”

“You heard me.” He moved closer and watched her intently.

A brief flurry of sense came rushing back, and Lacy thought of a hundred reasons they weren’t right for each other. “But we hate each other. Think of all the times you’ve yelled at me. I never do anything right by you.”

He chuckled. “We don’t hate each other. At least, I could never hate you. The times I’ve yelled at you were purely due to my fear of losing you.”

“Losing me?”

“Of course. When you don those boy’s britches and go scouting around for highwaymen and killers, or climb up on roofs to repair shingles, I’m terrified you’ll get hurt—even die.” He touched her cheek and stroked back wisps of hair. “I was afraid I’d never get a chance to tell you how much I love you.”

She shook her head rapidly, dislodging his touch. “No. You don’t love me. You can’t.”

“And I suppose you don’t love me.” He grinned. “Oh, that’s right, you hate me.”

She shook her head even more fervently. “I don’t . . . I . . .” She stopped and looked at him. “I don’t know what I feel.”

“Let me remind you again.” His mouth covered hers without giving her so much as a chance to protest.

Lacy knew her fight was lost. She couldn’t fight her own desires, much less his. Dave lifted his head and whispered against her lips. “Marry me.”

“It will never work. We’d just hurt each other.” Her thoughts were blurring and all she could think of was the way his lips felt against her own.

“We’ll make it work,” Dave whispered. “If we put our minds to it, we’ll do just fine.” He kissed her cheek and then trailed kisses along her jawline to her ear. “Now say yes, and marry me.”