Edith and the Mysterious Stranger (14 page)

Looking over at Melinda sitting on the sofa,
William smiled. “Take care of yourself, my dear.”

Melinda smiled and waved as William opened
the door to leave. After he was gone, Gilbert sat down beside her.
Melinda was resting her hand on her swollen stomach. She was now
six and a half months along, and the baby was quite active, more so
than John had ever been. The difference made her think this baby
just might be a girl, but how would her son feel about that. John
wanted a companion to play with and Gilbert needed another son to
help around the farm. But whatever it turned out to be, she would
be happy.

Gilbert looked down at her belly and smiled.
“So, how’s the little one doing tonight?”

“Oh, so-so.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, constantly kicking me in the ribs. I
don’t understand. There are plenty other directions this babe could
kick, but why in my ribs?”

Gilbert chuckled. He had no answer to her
question. “Well, be glad that our little one isn’t kicking you all
night long any more like before, keeping you awake most of the
night.” Then he grinned. “Especially in the bladder.”

Laughing softly, Melinda
shook her head. “How can I forget?” She gave a sidelong glance at
Gilbert as she said, “I think he must be used to my schedule by
now.
He
seems to
know when it’s time for bed.”

“That’s good.” Gilbert blinked. “He?”

She laughed. “I’m not sure what to call this
little one.”

Melinda shifted position, trying to get
comfortable. Eyeing a couple pillows lying on the sofa, she smiled.
They would do the job very well. She grabbed one and put it behind
her lower back and the other one under her arm to lean on. It was
not quite right, so she took the one behind her, punched it a
couple times, and then placed it at the curve of her lower back.
She wiggled her backside until it fit comfortably.

Gilbert was watching her every move as she
maneuvered the pillows and wiggled into a new position. After a few
minutes of adjusting pillows and situating her position, he
grinned. It was quite a procedure.

After settling back, she sighed with relief.
Looking up at Gilbert, she saw his amused expression. She arched
her brows and asked, “What?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just watching the daily
ritual of getting comfortable.”

“Oh, you sure sound sympathetic.”

Gilbert chuckled. “Oh yes, I am. Very
sympathetic! When I see how much you have to put up with, I thank
God every night that I’m a man.”

Melinda grabbed the pillow from under her arm
and playfully punched Gilbert with it. He burst into laughter and
grabbed it from her hand.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “One of these
days, Mr. Roberts, you’ll get yours. Men have to go through some
sort of discomfort and pain, not just women.”

“Oh, Melinda, we do. We definitely do.”

“What discomfort do you go through?”

Melinda folded her arms on top of her round
belly and waited to hear what he had to say. It was going to be
very interesting to hear his explanation.

“All right, Melinda. How about watching the
discomfort and pain of your wife? I worry and I fret about you all
the time, wondering if you’re all right. Worrying is a very
plausible discomfort. Wouldn’t you agree? Not to mention, all the
mood swings that a woman has to go through.”

He dramatically threw his arms in the air.
“We men not only have to put up with these mood swings but we have
to keep on our toes, hoping we won’t hurt your feelings by being
too insensitive. Your emotions seem to be on the surface in your
condition, and you cry over the tiniest things, such as burning the
roast or reading some bad news in the newspaper. I actually had to
ban you from reading it because you were becoming so emotional.”
Gilbert slowly shook his head. “For a man, it’s no picnic.”

“No picnic?” Melinda’s eyes widened and her
mouth dropped open in surprise as she playfully punched Gilbert
with another pillow. “I can’t believe you said that. No
picnic?”

Gilbert laughed. “Well? Is it a picnic for
you?”

Folding her arms across her belly, she
answered, “Sometimes it is. How about the time you put your mouth
up to my belly and sang a little melody and the babe started
kicking. Wasn’t that a picnic?”

A smile played at the corners of his mouth
as he said, “Yes, it was. She punched me on the nose. I’ll have to
tell her how she slugged her papa before she was born.”

“She?”

He shrugged. “He. She. It.”

He laughed as she punched him with a pillow yet
again.

“It?” She shook her head with amusement.

After a while, she looked up into her husband’s
face and started laughing.

“What?” Gilbert said cheerfully. “Tell me, so I
can laugh, too.”

“Well, when you sang, the babe started kicking
furiously as if something was bothering him.” She bit her lip
playfully and smiled. “I think he was telling you something. Don’t
you?”

Gilbert furrowed his brow and groaned
good-naturedly. “Oh Melinda. That hurts. You cut me deep. I wasn’t
that bad.”

Melinda laughed and then leaned over and kissed
him affectionately on the cheek.

Gilbert gave her a sidelong glance, showing his
dissatisfaction. “You think that kiss will make up for what you
just said about my singing?”

“Well, I hoped it would.”

He shook his head. “Nope. You’ve got to try
harder than that. You insulted my singing and hurt my ego. I think
I deserve some sort of groveling.”

“Groveling?”

Melinda giggled. Then she pushed herself up from her
seat and stood in front of Gilbert. He looked up at her and
wondered what she was preparing to do. Before he could ask, she
carefully sat upon his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, and
placed tender kisses all over his face. On his cheeks, his
forehead, his nose, his chin, and last of all on his soft luscious
lips! Her lingering kiss was warm and tender, and it melted his
heart. If this was groveling, he approved of it immediately.

When she leaned her head on his shoulder, she asked,
“Have I groveled sufficiently?”

Gilbert soberly shook his head. “No, try again.”

“It would be my pleasure, darling.”

It was harvest time and the sweet autumn scent
was in the air. The maple trees were turning color, creating a most
beautiful atmosphere. It was the last week of September and Edith
decided to take a stroll. It was dusk but still bright enough to
see her way about. The evenings were cooling down and she had a
wrap around her shoulders.

As Edith walked, her mind strayed to Joseph and
how he had helped her with Sam. He had insisted on helping and had
not weakened once. She smiled when she remembered how he had
studiously made each strip of cloth just right, measuring it so it
would be what she wanted. She had told him to make them six inches
wide, and he had done exactly what he had been told. She grinned at
the memory.

There was something about Joseph that softened
her—the way he spoke, his mannerisms, the way he looked at her. She
was not quite sure what it was. Edith shook the sentimental feeling
away. He was not what she had imagined for a husband.

Edith had a list, and she was going to stick
to it. This list helped her to know what kind of man she wanted to
marry, and Joseph did not qualify. Between Henry and Joseph—Henry
was closer by far because they had a lot more in common. So, why
was she thinking about Joseph, instead of Henry?

As she walked slowly down the lane, she
heard a horse trotting behind her. She stood off to the side to
allow it to pass. But instead of passing, the horse came to a stop
right beside her. Edith looked up and saw Joseph grinning down upon
her.

“Well, I’ll be…What are you doing out this
late in the evening, Miss Edith?”

“It’s not so late,” she defended. “Besides,
what are you doing out this late, Joseph?”

“Oh, feeling restless. We’re getting ready
for the cattle drive tomorrow.”

“Why are you restless? You’ve gone on many
cattle drives before.”

Joseph slid off his horse and held the reins
in his hand. “Can we talk?”

Edith nodded. As they walked, the horse
trailed behind them.

“Well, you see, something doesn’t feel
right, Edith. I’m not sure what it is. It’s a gut feeling.” As they
strolled down the lane, he turned toward her and asked, “You know
what I mean?”

Edith nodded, listening intently to what he
had to say.

“Well, Gilbert’s getting extra men, more than
usual. I think he feels it, too. This restlessness didn’t come
until I started packing this afternoon, and it just won’t leave.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know what it is, but I wish I did.”

“Is it an uneasy feeling?”

“Yup, and something more. Like a warning, sort
of. I just wish I knew what it was.”

She nodded. “I’ve had those feelings before,
usually just before an emergency, like the birth of a baby.
Sometimes I’ll have a hunch I should stick around home. And sure
enough, someone comes knocking at the door.”

When Joseph noticed they were unconsciously
walking in rhythm, one step at a time, it made him grin. As he
lifted his right leg, so did she, and the same with his left leg,
one foot at a time. He wanted to mention it, but decided it might
throw her off rhythm.

When their arms brushed together, warmth crept
through him, and he wished he could tell her his true feelings. He
wanted to let her know that she had found a special place in his
heart. He wanted to reveal that every time he thought of her, his
heart would accelerate, that every moment of the day, he seemed to
be thinking about her. But it was not time. Not yet. She needed to
warm up to him first.

“So, Joseph! Tell me your feelings.”

He stopped in mid-stride, losing their rhythm.
His feelings? Joseph’s mouth fell open, and he stared into her
eyes. Licking the dryness from his lips, he whispered, “What
feelings?”

“About the cattle drive.”

Joseph started to breathe again. “Oh. That.”

“What did you think I meant?”

He wasn’t about to tell Edith how he felt about
her. When he saw her dark eyes looking curiously into his, he wiped
his brow and cleared his throat. “Well, I talked to Gilbert about
it. He’s going to warn all the men to be aware of every little
noise, and if something isn’t right, to tell him.” He waved toward
her home and said, “Shall we?”

Edith nodded as they strolled toward the
porch. Joseph hitched his horse to the post and followed her to the
door. When she came to a stop, Joseph’s hand brushed against hers
and he unconsciously took it in his. He held it up and examined it
curiously, rubbing her hand with his thumb and feeling the softness
of it.

“You have small hands, Edith.”

She shook her head and laughed. “No. Yours
are large. Mine are really quite normal, like Mom’s.”

Joseph looked down at her palm and squeezed
it tenderly. Then he traced his finger along a small line, noticing
the softness of her hand in his. He looked up into her face and saw
her blushing furiously and he smiled. Then she bit her lip and
instantly pulled her hand away.

Edith shrugged. “It tickled,” she said
timidly as she wiped it on her skirt to take away the tingling
sensation.

Joseph grinned as he watched her. “Hmmm.
You’re a very curious woman, Edith.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because of what Gilbert and your mother
have told me.”

Edith laughed. “And what have they told
you?”

Joseph sobered and said, “Edith, you’ve had
a life of unselfish service. And because of this, you’ve neglected
yourself so you can take care of others. I admire this very much,
but your social life seems to come last. Just from the little bit I
know about you, I feel that you’re searching for something. Perhaps
true happiness.”

She listened but didn’t say a word.

He smiled as he asked, “Edith, why don’t you give
men a chance to get to know you? And why don’t you try harder to
find out more about them?”

Edith looked up curiously, staring into Joseph’s
eyes, and became uncomfortable. She bit her lip nervously and said,
“I’ve got to go, Joseph. Please excuse me.”

Edith quickly turned, opened the door, and slipped
inside, leaving Joseph by himself.

He raised a brow, pursed his lips in thought and
sighed. He had said what was on his mind. Now it was up to her. He
sauntered toward his horse, unhitched it, and climbed on.

Edith leaned against the door, breathing uneasily.
The words he had said were true and she knew it. But why did he
care so much? Then she remembered the warmth of his hand in hers
and how she enjoyed it. When he traced his finger along the palm of
her hand, why did it send a tingling sensation right down to her
toes? Was she beginning to have feelings for Joseph? She shook her
head and frowned. No, that couldn’t be. He was a farmer, a cowhand.
She wanted more in a husband.

Besides, she already had someone that she was
growing fond of. And she couldn’t wait for another letter to
arrive.

Twenty five hundred steers had been rounded up
and were headed for market. As Gilbert rode along, he searched the
surrounding hills and trees for anything suspicious. He had never
had any problems in the past, but he didn’t want to be unprepared.
He stood up in his stirrups and stretched the muscles in his
legs.

Gilbert noticed Joseph and David talking and
joking around. He turned to Jenny and said, “Since those two don’t
have much to do in the evenings, Joe’s been spending time with
David and teaching him to play the harmonica. Joe told me that he’s
a good kid.” Gilbert slowly shook his head. “I’m glad that Joe
cares about others so much, but he doesn’t seem to have a social
life. I wanted to introduce Edith to Joe but after hearing how
badly it went with Martha’s introduction to Henry, I thought it
wasn’t such a good idea after all.”