A Lantern in the Window (9 page)

Noah didn't move. Annie's words were
like blows from a heavy fist that stunned him and held him
immobile.

She’d said that she loved
him.

Pain wrenched at his gut. He didn’t
want her love, he told himself savagely. He didn’t want to love her
back, or care for the child he'd carelessly allowed to begin. He
couldn’t
give that kind of love again, didn’t she see
that?

Sweat broke out on his forehead, and
he shut his eyes tight, willing himself to remember.

For weeks now, he’d struggled to
recall the exact shape of Molly’s face, the precise sound of his
son’s baby voice calling him daddy. They were recollections Noah
had believed to be engraved on his very soul, impossible ever to
erase.

But fight it as he would, Noah's
memories of them were fading. Now, in his dreams, it was more often
than not Annie’s husky voice he heard instead of Molly’s softer,
sweeter tones, and God knew that when he held Annie in his arms, in
this room, in this bed, the sweet passion he’d awakened in her and
the mad, bottomless hunger she stirred in him left no room for
memories or thoughts of another.

Because, some traitorous part of him
whispered, with Molly there had never been the sexual intensity he
experienced with Annie. And he felt the foulest sort of traitor to
acknowledge that there were days—even weeks—now, when he didn’t
think of his first wife at all.

The rest of June passed with excessive
politeness and long silences between them.

July brought blistering heat and long
hours of backbreaking work for Noah, and for Annie as well. Days
started at four and ended only at full dark.

The words they’d hurled at each other
remained between them.

In bed, they lay rigidly back to back,
each achingly aware of the other's body, each longing for the
love-making that had been their only meeting place. Feeling
wretched, neither reached out for the other.

Annie, wounded by his rejection,
couldn’t, and Noah, wanting her more with every sultry, wasted
night, wouldn’t.

“
Bets, I’ll take the lunch
out to Noah today.” It was nearing the end of August, and he was
clearing land that bordered the river, about a mile away from the
house.

Annie usually sent Bets out with
Noah’s lunch every afternoon, but today she’d been busy making
rhubarb jam all morning, and she was hot and thoroughly sick of
being indoors.

The jam had turned out, though. She
could hardly believe how impressive the row of jars with their pink
contents looked lined up on the table. Even more amazing, she’d
made good bread four times now, tall, golden loaves, crusty and
delicious.

It was the most peculiar thing. She’d
waited until Noah was out one day and then, feeling both guilty and
defiant, she had ventured up to the attic to look at the
beautifully carved cradle, setting it to rocking and wondering if
the child she carried would ever sleep in it.

There, in a box behind the cradle,
she’d found recipes that Molly must have written. Feeling like a
thief in her own home, Annie brought them down and began trying
them.

Unlike the ones Elinora had sent,
these were easy to follow, and one after the other, she turned out
perfect bread, piecrust, puddings, even a sponge cake.

And for the first time, Annie found
herself whispering fervent
thank-yous
to the ghost who
shared her house.

Exuberant with the success of the jam,
she relished the long walk along the riverbank and through the
fields to where Noah was working.

She saw him from a distance, using the
team of heavy workhorses, Buck and Bright, to pull
stumps.

His snug-fitting pants were tucked
into high leather boots, and he’d taken his blue shirt off and hung
it on a nearby bush. Brown suspenders rested on equally brown-bare
skin, and he had a wide-brimmed straw hat on his head. The muscles
in his arms and back bulged as he added his considerable strength
to the efforts of the animals.

He didn’t see her at first, and
Annie’s eyes traveled over his long, broad-shouldered body,
sweat-sheened and powerful.

He was a beautiful-looking man. He was
a man any woman would be proud to claim as her husband.

Slowly, torturously, the gigantic
stump parted from the earth, and Noah threw his fists to the sky
and hollered in triumph, unaware that she was watching.

It was a revelation to see him this
way, exhilarated and noisy. "Hello, Noah. I brought you fresh water
and some sandwiches,” she called as she walked across the torn
earth to hand him the bucket she’d packed the lunch in.

He actually smiled at her. His face
was streaked with dirt, and sweat poured from him.

"Thanks, Annie. Whew, it’s a scorcher
today. I'm thirsty and hungry both.” He took his hat off and mopped
his face with a red checkered bandanna. “There's a shady spot over
by the riverbank.” He paused, and she could tell he was uncertain
as he added, “Will you come sit and share this with me?”

Annie hadn't planned to linger, but
for the first time since their quarrel, the tension between them
seemed somewhat eased.

“
I’d like that, Noah.” She
didn’t know about him, but she was sick and tired of the strain
between them. She’d never been good at holding grudges. What
purpose did they serve? Life went right on.

Besides, the thought of sitting
somewhere cool for a spell was appealing. Her dress was light
cotton, but her long skirts were cumbersome. She'd shoved her
sunbonnet back, and as usual curls had escaped from under her
sunbonnet and were glued to her forehead and neck with sweat. A
fresh crop of freckles were undoubtedly popping out like
gooseberries on her nose and cheeks, and she didn’t
care.

Noah retrieved his shirt and handed it
to her to carry while he took the team down to the water for a
drink and then turned them free to graze. When they were settled,
he led the way to a sheltered, grassy knoll among the willows that
bordered the riverbank.

Annie plunked herself down, relishing
the feel of the cool grass. A slight breeze came drifting from the
water. Meadowlarks trilled from the bushes.

Noah sat down beside her and opened
the fresh tea towel she’d wrapped around his sandwiches and held
them out to her.

Good thing she’d packed extra. She
accepted a thick chicken sandwich. She seemed always to be starving
these days. The early sickness had passed, leaving a bottomless
hunger in its place.

Her belly had begun to gently round,
but she was also putting on extra weight all over her body, the
first time in her life that she’d been more than skin and
bone.

"I made a dozen jars of rhubarb jam,
and they turned out,” she remarked, still feeling pleased with
herself.

"This bread is delicious, too, Annie.”
He bit into another sandwich and chewed appreciatively.

"I guess I’ve finally gotten the
knack.”

“
I guess the chickens are
relieved,” he said, and Annie blinked.

Was Noah actually joking with
her?

She looked at him, and he was
grinning. Another moment, and they were laughing together, the
memory of her calamitous efforts at bread making forming a bond
between them.

They finished the lunch, munching on
apples and chatting easily now about the field he was clearing, the
new colt that had been born the week before, the latest gossip in
the Medicine Hat Times.

It was growing even hotter. Annie
fanned herself with the dish towel, looking at the water, and an
irresistible idea began to form.

“
I'm going wading.” She sat
up and began unlacing her boots.

Noah nodded in agreement. “Why not
come for a swim? It’s hot enough to melt bullets, and there's a
backwater down there just made for swimming. ”

He stood and, without any hesitation,
swiftly removed his boots, pants, and under drawers. Pretending to
be oblivious to her startled gaze, he calmly walked down the
embankment stark naked and dove straight in, disappearing entirely
for a heart-stopping moment before he surfaced a short distance
away from the shore.

"It’s fine,” he hollered, sending
droplets flying as he shook water out of his ears. “It’s cool. Come
on in.”

She hesitated for only a split second.
Then a kind of madness seized her. She shucked off her dress and
stockings, her long petticoat, until all that was left was her
white cotton chemise and under drawers. She picked her way gingerly
down to the water, aware that Noah, neck deep, was watching her
every move.

The delicious coolness on her toes
enchanted her. In a moment, she was up to her knees, and then her
thighs.

"You tricked me,” she gasped. "It’s
not just cool, it’s downright freezing."

"Careful, the bottom drops off fast
right about there.” Noah swam over and stood, taking both of her
hands in his.

"Can you swim, Annie?” Drops of water
clung to his eyelashes, the whorls of dark hair on his chest
glistened, and he smiled at her, lighthearted, boyish--and very
bare.

The shock of the water and the sight
of Noah’s naked body was taking her breath away. “No, I can’t
swim,” she gasped, clinging tight to his hands, laughing with the
wonder of it all. “I’ve never done this before.”

“
Put your arms around my
neck, but don’t choke off my air.”

He turned his back to her and she
looped her arms around him, heart hammering at the feel of his skin
against hers, and in one smooth movement, he sank down into the
water with her half floating on his back.

She screamed in delight as the chill
of the water reached her buttocks, her back, her breasts. She clung
to him, laughing uncontrollably, drunk with the sensation of
weightlessness, the naked male body pressing against her. He swam a
few strokes, and she felt the power of his muscles as he stroked
and kicked, easily supporting her.

Like carefree children, they splashed
and teased and played, until all at once, laughing up at him in
waist deep water, Annie met his eyes and caught her
breath.

The game had changed.

His arms slid further around her, and
one hand cupped her breast. His mouth came down to claim hers, and
with a groan, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her out of
the water, up the bank to where the grass was soft.

He stripped her of dripping chemise
and drawers, spread his shirt, and drew her down upon
it.

Their loving was both easy and
intense, because in this one thing they seemed to know
instinctively what the other required.

The sun beat down upon them, the
meadowlarks sang, and the rushing of the river muffled the sounds
they made.

"I’ve lost my hairpins, and I can't
put my hair back up without them.” Annie was searching the
grass.

Noah, dressed again in trousers and
the crumpled blue shirt they'd lain on, knelt obligingly beside her
and combed the ground in search of them.

"Here’s three, is that enough?” He
couldn't help but grin at the picture she made kneeling there in
disarray, scowling as she tried to control the wild red curls
covering her shoulders and tumbling down her back. Her freckled
face was golden from the sun, her body voluptuous.

He refused to dwell on the reason for
that new lushness, the child that grew within her. Today he was at
peace, with her and with himself. There’d be time later to come to
terms with the child.

"Thank you, Noah.” She stuck the pins
in her mouth and smiled at him as she wrestled with her unruly
hair.

Her eyes were as green as the grass
they knelt on, as wide and clear as the pool where they’d been
swimming. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss on her swollen lips,
then regretted his impetuous gesture when her eyes shimmered with
sudden tears.

But she gave him a wide smile and
pulled her stockings up, teasing him with one last glimpse of
shapely leg before she struggled to her feet.

"I have to get back. Bets and Zachary
will think I've been taken by Indians. Do I look decent
again?”

He pretended to study her. Her dress
was creased beyond redemption, and there was grass in her hair. He
reached over and took it out before she tied the sunbonnet
on.

“
You look just fine," he
assured her, knowing that anyone with half an eye could tell by the
rich color in her cheeks and the slumberous look in her eyes that
she’d been well and truly loved.

But Bets was too young and innocent
for such thoughts, and if Zachary should notice, well, Zachary
would be overjoyed that the strain of the past weeks was over and
done with.

“
Let the past go,” he’d
communicated to Noah just the other night. Zachary had come to love
Annie, and he made no secret that he blamed Noah for the problems
between them.

Yes, his father would be delighted to
see Annie like this.

Noah tucked the dish towel into the
lunch pail and handed it to her, and he watched as she set off
across the field. A hundred yards off she turned and waved, and he
raised a hand in response, feeling happy and more at peace than
he’d been in a long while.