The Widower's Wife (7 page)

“I am anxious to meet the children.” She smiled beautifully when she mentioned them, and his heart skipped a beat.

“Yes, the children will be anxious, as well. The drive home will take us about two hours.”

Dalton swallowed hard, his nervousness suddenly increasing. They still had an important task to do before they left town. He came around the table, helped Jillian with her chair, paid for their meal, and thanked the hostess for the fine service before they headed out the door and back across the street.

Jillian worked to steady her breathing as they walked slowly toward the courthouse. She knew the ceremony would be simple—just Dalton, herself, a justice of the peace, and whoever was called in to witness the ceremony.

She suppressed a slight, unexpected feeling of disappointment.
It’s better this way
, she told herself.
Something more would almost seem a farce
. She knew Dalton would honor and care for her and provide for her needs, but his obligations ended there. Both of their hearts were closed, and love would not be the reason for their union here today.

Dalton could tell Jillian was trying to keep herself calm, simply because he was trying to do the same. He was also trying to hold back the thoughts of Laurellyn that were fighting for their rightful place. He would not dishonor Jillian by thinking of his first wife while they were being married. He might never be in love with her, but he would owe her a great deal one day, especially where his children were concerned. He could start right now by paying her the proper respect she deserved.

With newfound resolve, Dalton walked up to the courthouse and held the door for Miss Jillian Grey—for the last time. The next time they walked through these doors, she would be Mrs. Dalton McCullough.

Dalton tried to find the smoothest parts of the road. He knew wagon rides could be hard on a woman, especially when it was her first time riding in one. Jillian hadn’t written too much about her family’s financial situation, but the way she had struggled at first to keep her balance told him that she must have been used to riding in a carriage, not a wagon.

The first part of the road home had been unusually rough. He hadn’t paid much attention to it on his way to the train station that morning—he had been in too much of a hurry to notice. Eventually the road got better, and when he glanced over at Jillian, he could tell she was relieved. It wasn’t long after that she began to nod off.

Dalton looked down at her head now resting on his shoulder. Her head felt heavy there, if only for the weight of the emotions he was again fighting. He noticed that her face looked troubled as she slept, not peaceful as it had in the train station when she lay unconscious. He wondered what was going through her mind.

The wedding ceremony hadn’t been much. He felt sorry for her. Surely, it wasn’t the wedding she might have dreamed of as a young girl. Jillian suddenly sighed in her sleep as though agreeing with his unspoken thoughts. A twinge of guilt shot through him as he remembered what a special and glorious day it had been when he had married Laurellyn. As he pondered for a moment on that beautiful spring morning, it felt just like it had been yesterday.

Neither Dalton nor Laurellyn wanted a big wedding. They invited mostly family and a few close friends. Walking into the church, the first thing Dalton noticed was all the flowers. “Of course,” he thought. There were so many different kinds, most of which were wildflowers. No wonder she had made him wait until May to marry her. He imagined there was not a wildflower left in any meadow or garden for miles.

He walked to where Reverend Jenkins was waiting for him at the front of the altar. The reverend’s wife, Mrs. Jenkins, began to play the piano. A few short moments later, the doors to the church opened again. The next moments were trance-like for Dalton. He no longer noticed anything else in the room. The piano had even become silent to his ears. All he could see was the vision of his love standing before him. Laurellyn and her Aunt Betty had worked on her dress together for months. He was sure it was beautiful, but all Dalton could see was her face smiling at him as she slowly walked down the aisle on her Uncle Ned’s arm.

His sweetheart was so beautiful. A wreath of woven flowers adorned her hair, and her cheeks were flushed pink with the excitement of the moment. Dalton stared into Laurellyn’s smiling eyes and mouthed the word “forever” before they both turned and faced the reverend.

They were coming to the outskirts of Uncle Ned and Aunt Betty’s farm. Dalton pushed the memory back to its treasured place in his mind. He wondered if he should wake Jillian up before they arrived to give her a minute to compose herself. He was glad she had been able to nap, even though he had felt uncomfortable with her being so close.

The sun was low in the sky. He thought of Jenny and the battle he was likely to face. Most folks around these parts would be winding down for the night because they rose so early in the morning. He himself had been up since five o’clock that morning and was finding it difficult to suppress the desire to yawn. Knowing Jenny, he worried that their evening was only just beginning.

Dalton was still trying to decide whether to wake Jillian when the wagon wheel hit an unusually large rut in the road and lurched to the side. Jillian flew away from him toward the right. Dalton reached over and caught her by the arm, quickly settling her to rights once again.

Jillian looked around, disoriented for a moment. She realized she must have fallen asleep and was sorely embarrassed.
How long have I been out?
she wondered. She was all too aware of Dalton’s hand that still held her upper arm, trying to keep her steady. She must have nearly fallen out of the wagon when it suddenly pitched to one side. She looked up at him, embarrassed, and smiled her thanks. He hesitantly let go of her when she appeared to have her balance once more. Looking around again, slowly this time, Jillian was pleased with the beauty that surrounded her and sighed deeply. They were passing a meadow of wildflowers on the left and a massive field of green cornstalks on the right. They must be coming up onto a farm. I wonder how much farther, she thought.

It seemed that Dalton could read her mind; he smiled at her obvious pleasure. He looked down at her and spoke. “That’s Aunt Betty and Uncle Ned’s house just up ahead.”

Jillian was relieved to finally be nearing the end of her journey. “I’m afraid I must look a fright by now,” she remarked. Her hands went immediately back to her hair. Her braid had indeed come loose again. She wasn’t surprised. Swiftly pulling it out, she was able to braid it again in no time. She was just retying the ribbon when they turned past the gate and headed up to the house.

Before the wagon could come to a full stop, the door burst open and a slight but energetic little girl came tumbling out. She quickly regained her footing and hurried down the stairs.

Dalton set the brake and hopped off the wagon. He swept the little one up into his arms, giving her a twirl and a kiss on the cheek before setting her back down.

“Pa, you was gone forever!” she complained, but the smile never left her face or her eyes. “Jenny was so ornery all day. She’s still mad about her leg,” she paused—
This must be Lisa,
Jillian thought—and glanced over at Jillian, then continued quietly, “ . . . and our new ma.” She gave Jillian a shy smile. “I’m not mad though, Pa. She’s pretty.” Jillian smiled, and the child continued talking. “Are ya glad with her, Pa? Is she as pretty as our real ma was?” She paused to look up into her father’s eyes, as his face paled a little. “Jenny says no one will ever be as pretty as our real ma, but I think she’s real pretty. What does Jenny mean by ‘real,’ anyhow?” She didn’t even stop to take a breath. “Jenny can be so mean sometimes. Auntie Bet says that Jenny’s still got a big hurt inside here,” Lisa put her hand over her heart, “and that she really doesn’t want to be so mean to me. I do hear her cryin’ in her room at night sometimes when she thinks I’m already sleepin’. I told her one day that if she was so sad about somethin’, she should talk to you or Auntie Bet ’bout it. She got all mad and told me that I didn’t know nothin’. Then she says . . .”

Lisa stopped talking when Jillian walked over and knelt down on one knee beside her so they were eye level. Her eyes got big when Jillian reached out and took one of her hands and placed her other hand lovingly on her cheek. She smiled shyly, and Jillian smiled in return.

“You must be Lisa.”
What a delightful child this is
, Jillian thought to herself,
and such a talker!
“I am very pleased to meet you at last. Your father wrote me many wonderful things about you, and I can see why you are so deserving of his praise.” She looked over at Dalton. He still looked a bit taken aback at Lisa’s string of questions, but at least the color had come back into his face. He wouldn’t have had time to answer them anyway, because Lisa started up again.

“Jenny says you probably wouldn’t come ’cause Pa was late,” she said. “He was late ’cause Jenny cut her leg. He tried real hard to be on time, so you wouldn’t be scared bein’ alone and not knowin’ anyone . . . but Jenny says it don’t matter if you do come ’cause you probably won’t stay long anyhow. ” For the first time since Lisa had tumbled through the door, her smile disappeared and was replaced by a sad pout as she quietly asked, “You will stay . . . won’t you?” She looked deep into Jillian’s eyes questioningly. “Even if Jenny’s got a hurt that makes her so mean?” The questioning look turned to pleading. “I’ve been waitin’ a real long time for a new ma, been prayin’ too . . . real hard.”

Before Jillian could answer her, the door to the house burst open again. Jenny walked out and down the steps with her arms folded across her chest. She was shocked by the contrast in the looks of the two girls.

Lisa’s long hair was a golden, honey-colored blonde, and her eyes were bright blue. They seemed to dance and sparkle when they caught your attention. Jenny’s hair was dark and cut just a bit shorter. Her eyes were also blue, but with flecks of grey around the edges. There seemed to be a storm brewing just under their surface.

From the corner of her eye, Jillian saw Dalton smile and take a tentative step toward her. Jenny gave him a glare that stopped him dead in his tracks, and she noticed his shoulders slump slightly in defeat.

Lisa turned and saw that Jenny had come out of the house, her worry forgotten momentarily as she smiled at Jenny genuinely. Jillian could tell she loved and admired her sister, despite all her frustrations.

“Jenny!” she exclaimed. “Look, our new ma is here! I told you she would come! See how pretty she is?” She pointed toward Jillian as if to prove her point. “Told you so,” she added a bit more smugly, looking triumphantly back over at Jenny.

Jillian braced herself for Jenny’s angry glare and was not disappointed. Jenny looked back at her father, and this time the defiant look she gave him was mixed with a questioning pain. Without warning, Jenny took off running, favoring one leg just a little as she ran between the house and the barn. She headed quickly into the meadow that lay just beyond. Dalton sighed.

Jillian wished she could comfort him but knew that was not her place. She saw that Lisa started crying. Jillian took her protectively into her arms and held her close and smoothed her hair.

“Jenny’s going to ruin everything.” Lisa’s voice trembled. “She’s going to make you want to leave.” Jillian took her shoulders and held her back so she could look into her eyes.

“Nothing is going to be ruined, little one, you just wait and see.” But as Jillian saw the look of sadness on Dalton’s face as he stared after his willful and broken daughter, she wasn’t so sure herself.

Dalton was torn. He wondered if he should go right after Jenny or let her brood awhile. He knew where she would be headed. Maybe she would find comfort there. He realized that his delay in speaking with her was not only making this more difficult for him, but was hurting Jillian’s feelings as well. Little Lisa was also being affected by his thoughtlessness. All he could do now was pray that they could work this out as quickly as possible.

His smallest daughter’s questions had been almost unbearable. How could he answer them? He was relieved when Jillian seemed to sense that he was being overwhelmed and had come to his rescue. When she knelt down beside his tiny daughter, with no thought of soiling her lovely dress and took one of her small hands into her own, placing the other softly on little Lisa’s cheek, his heart confirmed to him again that this woman would be a source of healing and comfort in their home.

The door to the house opened again for the third time. Aunt Betty stepped out, carrying a little blond-headed boy. He was the spitting image of his father, with the exception of his hair color. He was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes when he spotted Dalton. He stretched his arms out toward him and squealed with delight. Aunt Betty walked forward, and, after giving Dalton a knowing look, she nodded her head out toward the meadow questioningly. As Aunt Betty deposited little Brenn into his father’s arms, Jillian saw Dalton slightly nod his head affirmatively. A troubled look crossed Aunt Betty’s face, disappearing as she turned and came toward Jillian, arms outstretched.

“Ah, here you are at last!” she exclaimed as she gathered Jillian up into her ample arms. “We’ve been expecting you for quite some time now, you know. I was beginning to wonder if you had missed your train.” She pulled Jillian back enough to see her face and to give her a teasing look before gathering her back into her arms for another hug.

Jillian was glad her face was hidden for a moment so Aunt Betty didn’t see the blush that had come to her cheeks. She wondered what Aunt Betty thought of Dalton’s method of obtaining a wife and mother for his children. Sensing they were close, she assumed that they were in each other’s confidence and was sure that the subject had been discussed at length, probably more than once. Aunt Betty released her and smiled. Despite her teasing, this woman had already made her feel loved by her warm welcome. Jillian knew this woman would be easy to love in return. She felt she would have a friend—perhaps even an ally—in Aunt Betty. Her heart and her mind told her both would come in handy in the very near future.

“Well, my boy.” Aunt Betty turned back to Dalton. “I suppose you’d best hand that boy back over and go find that stubborn child of yours.” She took Brenn from his arms. Brenn made a sound of protest, but she paid him no mind. “It is gettin’ late. I made up some supper to send home with you.” She glanced back at Jillian and smiled. “Figured you’d be plum tuckered out by the time ya got here, dear, and I reckon you still have your evening chores to do, Dalton.” She motioned Jillian to follow her. “Come on into the house with me, Jillian, and grab the children’s things while I gather up your supper.”