Surrendered on the Frontier (17 page)

BOOK: Surrendered on the Frontier
8.13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

* * *

 

When I woke the next morning with the light of day, at first I felt better. My head no longer hurt, and I felt stronger, no more dizziness. I stretched my arms up over my head and sat up quickly, but the minute I sat up, the wave of nausea hit me again. I looked about for Samuel, but he wasn’t there of course. I fell back against the bed, lying against the bedclothes, willing the nausea to go away. I had chores to do. Someone needed to set the bread to rising, mop the floor, and bake. Someone needed to make sure Hannah was all set for school, her hair braided neatly, and her little lunch pail packed and ready. I groaned to myself. I hated that I was still sick.

Why was I sick?

It hit me all at once, and when realization hit, I felt a chill creep over me. The hair on my arms stood up on end. I felt my heart hammering in my chest, and I squeezed my eyes shut, as if somehow ignoring the reality made it all go away. I placed one hand flat against my stomach.

Maybe I wasn’t sick. Maybe there was another reason for my nausea. I thought of the time frame, and with a sick realization knew then that it was entirely possible that my fears could be true.

Maybe my nights of passion with Samuel had led to something else.

I needed to do something. I needed to talk to him. I could lie there in bed, fighting the nausea, worrying so about not being able to clean, or garden, or cook, or I could deal with the fact that my reckless behavior may have resulted in a very serious consequence.

Samuel’s
baby
.

The knowledge both thrilled and terrified me. What would his family think? I covered my face with my hands. What would
he
think?

I had to go to him. I needed to talk to him. He needed to know.

Ignoring the waves of sickness that overwhelmed me, I moved to go outside. I needed something cool to drink, and I needed to get out of the stuffy cabin. As I pushed through the door, the nausea overwhelmed me so badly I raced outside. Bending over a small bush outside our door, I was promptly sick. I felt better for a moment, though I was sure that if I could find a looking glass, I’d find myself looking limp and rather green. I needed to get to the water now, and today, I would have to fetch it by the well. I looked around, hoping to see Samuel, but there was no one about of course. I knew he’d have to get back to his own place. I felt a pang of regret at the distance between us
.

I mean to make this my every day.

Part of me wished it already was.

It was barely daylight, and I sat next to our well, enjoying the cool morning air and the quiet, now that my nausea had abated. I filled my bucket and cupped my hands in the depths, trickling water into my mouth, and running my damp fingers along my neck. I felt momentarily better.

A baby. I thought about it. The nausea and fatigue were exactly like what I’d experienced before, when I had been expecting Hannah. What would it be like, having a child after all these years? I placed a tentative hand on my stomach and wondered.

I could no longer wait for Samuel to come on his own to me. I needed to go to him.

I hefted my bucket of water and walked quickly, placing it outside our door. I still had plenty of time before I had to go tend to Hannah. There was time to cross town and walk over to the Stanleys before the day began. The nausea still swept over me, and a few times I had to stop, though I was able to maintain my composure for a good part of the journey. I enjoyed the walk alone, the early morning sun rising as I made my way toward the Stanley house.

I knew Samuel would be none too pleased that I’d walked alone, and likely unhappy I’d even gotten out of bed. The last time I’d been at Ma’s, Aaron had been telling everyone what he’d heard about the crew of men coming to town. We were a busy town, with the fur traders, and now more and more workers for the stagecoach, a new but rapidly growing business in Fort Hall. Many still traveled west, arriving at our place and deciding to travel no further. It meant our town was prospering. But it also meant new townfolk arrived daily, and unknown travelers posed a risk.

Samuel didn’t even like me to fetch water from the creek alone. He’d be fit to be tied if he knew I was traveling across town alone. But I didn’t care. I could defend myself, and I needed to see him. I walked as quickly as I could, and the brisk morning air seemed to quell my sickness for a bit.

When I arrived at the Stanleys, I slowed my steps. How would I fetch Samuel if he was still abed? I looked around their quiet homestead, at the stack of wood nearby, and the rows of crops. It was neat and clean, well-maintained, and it did my heart good. Hard workers lived here, and I appreciated that about them.

I tiptoed to the barn, and heard stirring within. I wasn’t sure if it was the livestock or one of the Stanleys, so I peeked in as quietly as I could.

Samuel sat on a milk stool, his large frame hunched over on the small wooden stool. It was the same stool he’d sat on the day he threw me into the loft. My heart fluttered to watch him, his large hands working quickly and efficiently. The cow he was milking stirred, and he placed one large hand on her flank, murmuring something low. She stilled. I swallowed. He wouldn’t be so calm when he knew I’d crossed town alone.

I stepped into the barn, hay crunching under my feet, and he looked up at me in surprise, his eyes widening.

“Ruth, what on earth?” he said. He got to his feet. “Is everything okay?”

I planned on being brave. I truly did. I lifted my chin and opened my mouth to talk. I had felt strong and courageous when walking along toward him, determined to defend myself if any danger came my way. But now, standing in front of him, with him towering over me, and his deep, steady voice traveling the short distance between us, my bravado failed. I opened my mouth to speak, but I felt my throat constrict, and no words came out. I shook my head.

He crossed over to me and put his arms around me, drawing me closer to him. “What is it, Ruth? You’re still sick, honey. You should be in bed. What brings you all the way here? I’d have come to you just as soon as I was done here.”

I closed my eyes, only trusting myself to whisper, my voice wavering. “Samuel…” I swallowed. I couldn’t continue.

He ran one hand along the back of my head and pulled me to his chest. “Tell me, honey,” he said. “Listen now, Ruth. Whatever it is, it’ll be all right. Now tell me.”

And I knew then that it would be. We weren’t crazy young children, and he was a good man, the
best
man, the one I could trust above all others. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. “I don’t think I’m sick,” I whispered. He looked confused, shaking his head, but as I continued, he stilled. My voice still in a whisper, I said, “I think I may be with child, Samuel.”

His eyes widened, and then a slow smile crept along his face. “Do you, now?” he whispered. His hand traveled to my belly, warm and steady, the breadth of his hand nearly covering my entire stomach. “A baby? Do you know?”

I shook my head. “I don’t,” I whispered. “But I’m… late. And I wonder if being so tired and sick-feeling isn’t related. We… well, it’s certainly possible.”

He grinned, lifting my chin with one of his fingers, and he kissed me. I didn’t realize until his lips met mine how much I’d missed being held by him. He felt so strong and manly, and my insides melted as his hands spanned my waist with his mouth upon mine. When he pulled away, his eyes were glowing.

He didn’t seem concerned at all. Wasn’t he afraid of what people would say? What our future held? What would we
do
?

“When will you know?” he asked. “For sure?”

“Oh, another week or so,” I said. “And I really don’t know yet. I just know that I feel tired and sick, and I felt like that when I was expecting Hannah.”

He nodded, and suddenly he sobered, as if he just realized I was standing in front of him in his barn. “Ruth, tell me you didn’t walk across town to come here and tell me. It’s bad enough you made that trip alone sick, but now thinkin’ you could be with child—”

I swallowed and shifted nervously. “Well, I… had to speak to you,” I began.

He made a low sound halfway between a groan and a growl. “What am I goin’ to do with you, woman?” he asked. “If you hadn’t just told me now that you could be with child, I’d take you straight across my knee and give you a lickin’ you’d remember. You wouldn’t sit for a week. How could you? Don’t you know the dangers you faced?”

“I had to see you. I was prepared to face the dangers!” I protested, my heart thumping at both the threat of a spanking and the necessity of making him see my reasoning.

“Prepared to face them?” he asked incredulously. “Prepared to handle a passel of strange men who’d have their way with you? Prepared to handle the savages that roam the plains? Prepared to deal with a hungry she-bear or wildcat?” He paused. “Prepared to deal with
me
?”

I frowned at him. “Well, yes,” I said.

His eyes shut briefly, and when they opened, they were dark. “Foolish woman,” he said. “You’ll not do this again.”

I scowled at him and wanted to ask how he planned to stop me, but I knew he’d have his ways. “Samuel, I came here to tell you I’m likely carrying your child, and the first thing you do is threaten to spank me?”

He frowned. “It wasn’t the first thing I did, and I’m still pleased with what you’ve told me. But woman, you’re the most frustratin’ thing known to man, and knowin’ you could be carryin’ my baby only makes this worse, not better.”

“Fine,” I said, attempting to momentarily mollify him. “But let’s focus on the most pressing problem here.” I paused as nausea suddenly overtook me again. The barn spun, and my stomach rolled. I felt Samuel’s hands steadying me as he pulled out the stool, sat down, and drew me onto his lap. The unexpected gesture made me feel better, even as the nausea rolled over me.

“You all right, honey?”

“Just sick,” I whispered. The nausea passed after a moment, and I looked up at his face. “Samuel? What are we going to do?” I asked

“About what?” he asked.

About
what
?

“About our
predicament
,” I snapped, feeling anger rising again. Confound the man!

He frowned. “Now, woman, you mind your temper. That’s an easy
predicament
to solve
,
little Ruth.”

“Is it, now?” I asked.

“Course it is. I marry you,” he said, as if the answer was as simple, as, say, “water the horses,” or “weed the garden.”

I sat up straighter. “Marry me!” I tried to shove myself off his lap but he held tight.

His eyes darkened. “Of course. Why on earth wouldn’t I?”

I had no answer.

“Woman, I’ve been courtin’ you for weeks now. And you mean to tell me marriage hasn’t crossed your mind?”

Of course it had crossed my mind, but in a way one contemplates a fantasy, not reality. I just never contemplated the fact that Samuel would really
want
me. But I had to pause at something he’d said. “You’ve been
courting
me? How did you do this without my knowledge?”

He snorted. “You think I kiss every pretty little thing that sashays on by me, woman?”

He’d done more than kiss me, but I’d not make a point of that. There were some things that were better not said out loud.

“You’d better not,” I muttered, which made him smirk. “Well, why didn’t you tell me that’s what you were doing?”

“Tell you? I thought you knew,” he said. “When you eat breakfast in the mornin’, do you tell people you’re eatin’ breakfast? Course not. It’s obvious. You have no pa or brother to ask, so why be all formal-like? I wanted to know if you’d have me for a husband. But if you’re carryin’ my child, I would hope you would know the answer to that question.” His voice softened. To my surprise, he removed his hat. “There’s no woman I’d rather have as my own, little Ruth. Will you marry me?”

I warmed at that. But I had to know. I had doubts. I had fears. “Are you sure you’d really want a woman like me?” I whispered.

His answer was to thread his fingers through my hair, one hand grasping the back of my neck, as he drew my mouth to his and kissed me, the fierceness of the kiss and his tight grasp on me taking my breath away. When he pulled back, I was panting. His eyes smoldered. “Does that answer your question?” he asked.

I nodded. “Even though I have a temper?”

His lips twitched. “I can handle your temper.”

My voice caught at my next question. “Even though I already have a daughter?”

He sobered. “I already love your daughter as if she were my own.”

I closed my eyes, a lump rising in my throat. He pulled my head to his chest and held me. His voice was low when he spoke. “I love you. And I want you all to myself. Will you marry me, little Ruth?”

I nodded. And it didn’t matter then if I was with child, or a spitfire, or damaged from my past. He wanted me.

I didn’t know how, or when, but I knew the answer to his question. I inhaled, faced him and nodded my head. “Yes, Samuel. I’ll marry you.”

 

 

* * *

 

We heard a clattering by the barn door. I flew off Samuel’s lap moments before the door opened. Matthew stood in the doorway, his hair still sticking up on end, and his eyes looking sleepy.

“Oh,” he said, obviously startled to see me there. “Mornin’. You all right, Miss Ruth?”

“I’m fine, thank you, Matthew. I needed to speak to Samuel a moment, but I best be getting back to the house before Hannah needs me.” I ran my hands along the length of my skirt, smoothing it out, nodding to Samuel.

Samuel handed the milk pail to Matthew. “Please take this on into the house for me,” he said. “I’ll be taking Miss Ruth back to her place, and giving her and Hannah a hand with their chores.”

“Yes, sir,” Matthew said, taking the pail and looking slowly from me to Samuel. “Miss Ruth, did you come here alone?”

Confound the Stanley line of bossy men.

“I did,” I said, managing to avoid Samuel’s eyes. “I had to speak to your brother, but all’s good now. Thank you for the work you’ve done at my place, Matthew.”

BOOK: Surrendered on the Frontier
8.13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Short Forever by Stuart Woods
Soul Stealer by C.D. Breadner
The Ghost of Valentine Past by Anna J McIntyre
Feersum Endjinn by Banks, Iain M.
SPQR III: the sacrilege by John Maddox Roberts
Little Square of Cloth by Sean Michael
My Fierce Highlander by Vonda Sinclair
Emma Lane by Dark Domino
Meow is for Murder by Johnston, Linda O.