A Bride for Keeps (23 page)

“I’m a bit behind, but not too much. I’ve had help.”

She wiped at her mouth and shoveled in another bite. It was the first time he’d mentioned
that others had helped
him. Why had he kept that from her? She ran a finger along the neckline of her nightgown.
What a silly thing to get riled over. She needed fresh air; she was going stir crazy.

“But don’t you worry about household chores yet. Take the time to gain strength before
you shoulder a workload.”

She choked a bit, requiring several sips of water. “Take some time?” Cough. “I don’t
want any more of it. I’m tired of time.”

“I’m sure you’re restless, but you shouldn’t throw yourself back into work because
you think that’s what I need. I can help you with the household chores.”

“I know you can, but the best way you can help is to allow me to exercise.” She didn’t
want to be relegated to a chair to embroider more superfluous items. Her leg still
tingled oddly though an hour had passed since she’d gotten out of bed. “Let me work
through the pain while doing something useful.”

“Just promise me you won’t overdo it.”

“Promise.” Hopefully that would convince him to let her go at her own pace. Maybe
she’d do too much, but her body would advise her to go slower if she did.

Gulping down the rest of the food, she sneaked glances from the corner of her eyes
and found his dark, gentle gaze fixed on her. He was trying to get closer—to burrow
into her heart. She knew what that would entail. But did she want to push him away?
Her throat tightened, making it hard to get the food into her stomach.

She shifted in her seat to take the pressure off a tender spot. Obviously, he’d had
the chance to feel closer to her through her ordeal, but not until the last month
had she been aware of his ministrations. He’d been careful and gentle, but she’d avoided
his gaze, thinking about the minutes and seconds left
until she could get up from under his care and stand on her own two feet. She pushed
the empty bowl away.

Everett swept it up as if nothing gave him more pleasure than to wash her dirty dish.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he said over his shoulder.

Her posture slumped. “You’ve done plenty for me.” And she hadn’t given him anything
he wanted in return. Isn’t that what he’d implied minutes before she fell? He didn’t
want her to work—he wanted her.

He shook his head. “Not enough.” A quick smile brightened his face. “I’ll go get it.”
Everett banged out the door, and his footsteps thumped on the steps.

A wave of dizziness caused her to close her eyes for a second. She gripped the table,
willing her light-headedness to pass before he returned and demanded she get back
into bed.

A hollow metal sound clanked on the porch. Everett shoved his hip against the door
and backed in, the shadow of a large object behind him. A bathtub. The thought of
soaking her achy body in warm water brushed her feelings of inadequacy aside. How
long would it take to fill?

He set the shiny metal tub in the corner beside the cookstove and surveyed the oversized
trough with his hands on his hips. “Won’t this be something? I haven’t yet used it.”
He grabbed the pot that had boiled while they ate. “This morning I placed several
buckets of water off the porch in the sun. I think with the boiling water, it will
be ready for you in no time.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. Only a few minutes. Tension ebbed from her shoulders.
She could already feel the water’s soothing effects.

The first few pails of water hit the tub’s metal floor. How wonderful to bathe indoors
again. The new cabin was built
much tighter—no wide gaps between the floor slats, no crumbled chink leaving holes
in the walls. She had expected nothing more than feet soaks throughout the winter
since the old shack had been drafty. But now she could bathe whenever she wanted.
Nothing in her father’s entire store held the worth of this simple tub.

“All right.” Everett stuck his hand into the water and swished around drops of rose
water from a bottle she’d never seen before. “It’s ready for you.”

He helped her stand, and she steadied herself before walking across the planks. A
few little white stars danced on the edge of her vision, but nothing would deter her.

When his hands reached for the sides of her nightgown, she automatically clamped her
arms across her chest.

He dropped his hands. “I’m sorry. I thought I could help.”

He’d changed her during her time of bed rest, but the idea of him undressing her while
she was no longer sick . . . She trembled. “I can get it.”

His hands moved to steady her. “Are you sure?” His voice was soft.

“Yes . . . and you should leave,” she whispered. Her soul cringed at her words, but
she couldn’t face him right now. She didn’t feel right. But would she ever feel right?

The utter silence tore at her. Tension radiated through his hands and settled on her
shoulders. She’d hurt him. But she couldn’t fix it. Not now. Tears gathered in the
corners of her eyes. She just wanted to be alone.

“All right.” His voice drew out the two syllables almost in a question. He dropped
his hands. Seconds later, his feet scraped across the floor and out the door.

She hurriedly undressed and sank into the water. The heat soothed her body, but not
her mind. She scrubbed with a
brush and a sweet-smelling soap bar—a luxury over the soft lye they normally used.
He’d probably bought this along with the perfumed water. How much had he spent on
her?

Everett’s savings account was small, and paying for Helga’s departure had taken all
of her savings. She had to repay him. But could she offer him what he wanted? If he
knew Theodore had already ripped away her virtue, he wouldn’t want her anymore. He’d
despise her. The feel of his arms she’d unwillingly dreamed about in her delirium
would turn rough and uncaring, just like Theodore’s.

But Everett didn’t know what had happened in Massachusetts, and that made her feel
dirty.

After scrubbing until her skin felt raw, she lathered again. Her right leg ached a
bit more than the left with the heat of the water, but she stayed in, scouring.

A scream from the bedroom jolted Everett from his seat. Dex sat whittling.

Everett mussed his hair, cringing as a throaty feminine growl rumbled through the
walls. “This doesn’t bother you?”

Dex looked toward the door and sighed. “Yes and no. She’s done this so many times.
Believe you me, this is tame in comparison with the first two.” He swept curls of
wood off his lap. “But she insists a man ain’t supposed to be in there.” His fingers
returned to carving. “Silly rule if you ask me. Men are the reason for it.”

“So you’ve never been in there? You just endure it out here?” Another scream rent
the stuffy air in the cabin, causing his skin to prickle.

“I’ve been in once. With Ambrose. No midwife or female around at the time.” He shrugged.
“Let’s just say her tongue was loosened by the experience. She wasn’t too fond of
me at that moment.” A small smile formed on his lips. “Rachel’s normally good at holding
her own. But that day, she was dazzling.”

“Don’t you want to be in there?” Though it was Dex’s wife
and not his, not knowing what was happening behind that door made him jittery.

Dex shook his head. “She don’t want me, so I ain’t pushing. Nor fretting.” He poked
his blade at Everett. “Why don’t you stop worrying for me?”

Rachel’s voice screamed, “Dex!” followed by other unintelligible words.

Everett pushed himself against the back of his chair. “I couldn’t do it.” He leaned
forward, hoping Julia would come out and order him to do something. “I won’t be able
to sit calmly outside while my wife calls for me.”

Dex’s eyebrows rose.

“Not like I’ll be experiencing that anytime in the near future.” He huffed. “I’m just
rambling.”

Dex’s knife went back to its even slicing tempo. “I don’t mean to say I don’t want
to be in there, but at this time in a woman’s life, you let her have what she wants.
I’ll know if she yells my name in a way I shouldn’t ignore, but with Emma, I thought
I was answering a beckon only to get a sound tongue-lashing for coming in and getting
in the way.” He chuckled. “No, I’ll stay right here as of yet.”

A groan and a cry from the bedroom tore at Everett’s heartstrings, but he took his
cue from Dex and sat still in his chair.

He’d borne Julia’s anguish through her fever and broken leg. Borne the suffering as
if it were his own. And it was his own; he’d been the cause of it. He didn’t know
whether he or she suffered more—her leg and body, his heart and guilt—all had been
on fire and writhing. But God saw them through. Every previous desire for his marriage
had been selfish, so he threw himself into praying and nursing with no one but Julia
in mind.

If only God had seen fit during her suffering to birth her
anew. But she was confused and wary when he spoke of how the Lord saw her through
the agony. His ascribing her recovery to God made her uneasy, as did any talk of his
faith.

God would have to save her and heal her past hurts before his marital situation would
turn around. His past kindnesses and romantic attentions had not been enough.

Between Rachel’s cries he prayed for two births: the easy birth of a Stanton baby
and the rebirth of Julia’s soul. Sudden quiet snapped him from his prayers. Julia’s
tense, worried voice, though hushed, captured his ears.

Should they wait or rush in to assist? Surely he’d be useless to the women in the
other room. Dex sat, gripping the edge of his seat, but remained cemented to his chair.
So Everett held on to the arms of his and prayed for a healthy wee one.

The infant’s blue face gulped soundlessly. The air rushed from Julia’s lungs as she
dropped onto the side of the bed, firmly cradling the little girl.

“You can do it, Julia. You need to do it.”

Mimicking Rachel’s actions with the Hampden baby, she swiped the baby’s mouth, then
patted and rubbed vigorously until the little girl took in a shuddering breath, followed
by a muffled cry. The vestiges of panic disappeared from every muscle in her body,
and she suddenly felt as weary as Rachel probably felt.

She wrapped the child and took even, deep breaths. “You’ve got a girl, Rachel. A beautiful
girl.” She ran her finger down the baby’s plump cheek before handing the bundle to
her mother, who promptly suckled the infant.

Rachel yawned while taking her first peep at her daughter. “So tired.”

Julia shook her head. “Ten hours of hard work when you should be sleeping would make
a body so.”

“Oh, that was nothing.” Rachel wiped at the whitish-blue fingers curled around hers.
“William took twenty.”

Julia didn’t want to think about how crazy she would have gone helping Rachel through
a whole day of labor. “Have you picked a name?”

“Suppose we ought to have Dex come in and talk about that.” Rachel smiled. “Let me
finish feeding her, then you can wash her up.”

Julia tensed. “I haven’t bathed a baby before.”

“It’s not difficult. Take a rag with warm water and wipe her off so she’s not so messy.”
She jiggled the baby since she’d stopped nursing. “Just keep the towel on the parts
you aren’t washing to keep her from catching cold.”

Staring at the tiny form curled on top of her mother, Julia bit her lip. “I can’t
believe you’d entrust her to me. I don’t know why you even wanted me here after what
happened with Kathleen. . . .”

Rachel smiled lazily, not taking her eyes off her infant daughter. “I knew I’d be
here for the whole thing, so you wouldn’t be alone, and William could be called in
if anything major went wrong. But the longer you stay afraid of birthing, the worse
things will be when your time comes. You’ve got maternal instincts somewhere in there.
You got her to breathe, didn’t you? They’ll show up for a simple bath.”

“I hope so. I won’t use them otherwise.” She slumped onto the mattress beside mother
and baby.

Rachel clucked. “Come now, you’ve only been married four months. I didn’t get pregnant
with William until we were wed for a little more than a year. Be patient. It will
happen if the good Lord wills. On His timetable, not yours.”

“Well, that’s not exactly it.” Heat crept into her face, and Rachel arched her brows.
The color in her cheeks must be high. “There’re other reasons I’ll never have children.”

Rachel remained quiet as she rewrapped her sleeping daughter, but her eyes made Julia
want to voice every secret, every confusion, every hope, every fear.

But how could she tell her everything? “Now’s not the time to engage in such a discussion.”

“Oh, yes it is.” Rachel glanced around the room and whispered, “This will be one of
the few times we have alone. As soon as you step through that door, the family will
no longer consider this room sacred ground. We won’t be able to speak about delicate
matters for some time.”

Julia smoothed the baby’s matted hair, amazed she lay sleeping so soon after coming
into the world. “Are all babies this quiet?”

“No, Ambrose cried for eight hours straight, but don’t let this babe’s first day fool
you. Emma slept her first day away, and then she showed her true colors.” Rachel groaned.
“I need your help again. Just lay her in the bassinet.”

Julia helped clean Rachel after the birth, guided her into a new gown, and fixed the
bedding. She headed for the baby’s cradle. “I’ll take her to Dex. I bet he’s quite
anxious by now.”

“Julia.” Rachel grabbed her arm. “Talk to me.”

Sighing, she looked toward the window, but didn’t really see through it. A vision
of her mother’s last seconds on earth, lying in a bed surrounded by the blood of her
last failed attempt at childbirth, and the cold blue face of her last sibling in her
arms haunted Julia. “It’s just that Mother had so much difficulty having children.
I shouldn’t awaken the desire for them.”

“That doesn’t mean it will be the same for you.”

Tears pushed at the back of her eyes. “No, it doesn’t, but it seems likely. My grandmother
only birthed two live children. Plus, I don’t think Everett and I will ever be . . .
that close.”

Rachel snorted.

She frowned. “What’s that mean?”

“Means I’ve never seen Everett so smitten in my life.”

But would Everett still feel anything for her if he knew everything? She crossed the
room and took her time wrapping her arms about the baby. “I’m not sure his feelings
are anything beyond attraction to a pretty face. And guilt.”

“Why would he feel guilty?”

How had she let that slip? She sat on the bed next to Rachel. “Um, it was Everett’s
fault I fell off the roof.”

Rachel’s eyebrows fell until her eyes were tiny slits. “There’s no way that man carried
you up to the roof and threw you off.”

“No, I was up there on my own. But when he kissed me—”

“So he kissed you?” Rachel’s face was smug.

“Yes. He scared me so much I backed up and fell off.” She rubbed her leg where it
still felt numb.

“I’m sure the accident would bother him, but you have absolutely nothing to be afraid
of. The man’s in love with you. For more than your looks.” Rachel chuckled. “You weren’t
anything nice to look at after that tumble off the roof, and that didn’t faze him.”

Tightness gripped her chest. She hugged the baby closer and looked at Rachel through
her tears. “But I’m afraid. Afraid I’m just a pretty face like everyone says. That
he . . . that he’s only feeling what he feels because I’m nice-looking and under his
roof, but when he discovers the real me . . . what happ—” She shook her head. “To
be used for a while and then cast off . . .” She sniffed and wiped at her tears. “I
couldn’t handle it.”

Rachel’s thumb rubbed circles on her elbow. “I know Everett, honey. He isn’t solely
interested in your looks. I’m sure your gorgeous face enthralls him, but to be attracted
to one’s spouse is a good thing. And as for being used, that’s not at all what it
feels like when a man in love with you holds you in his arms. Where would you get
such an idea?”

“I don’t know.” She couldn’t tell Rachel that she knew exactly what it felt like.
It probably wasn’t the same with a man who loved the woman he caressed, but the control
Theodore had wielded was not something she could easily forget. She needed to erase
every memory of the time Theodore had forced her into his arms and bury the feelings
so they couldn’t ruin her life anymore. But how many times had she tried and failed?

And could she be certain Everett would still care about her if he learned about Theodore . . .
about everything?

And Everett might love her, but what if she couldn’t love him? “If I don’t yet love
him . . .”

“Love will come, honey. I doubt the Lord brought you two together in such a convoluted
manner to make you unhappy for the rest of your lives, but you’re bent on being miserable.
Why not go forward and see how the heavenly Father wants to bless you? It’s not good
to be together yet separate.”

The baby wriggled in Julia’s arms. “I better go tell your daddy you’re here.”

Rachel nodded. “I suppose you should. I’ll pray for you. But you shouldn’t be letting
your past define who you are or how much you’re worth. Look to God and through the
eyes of Everett. That’s where you’ll find your worth.”

Julia stared at the peaceful girl in her lap. Maybe Everett would find her worth something.
But God? She didn’t have anything of value to capture His attention. Could a
heavenly Father think more highly of her than her own father did?

Julia took a deep breath and considered the little charge in her hands in need of
a bath and Rachel, eyes closed, resting. There wasn’t time to fix her whole life right
now; it was time to be productive.

———

The bedroom door opened and Everett leaned forward, as did Dex. Julia walked out,
her face grim, a bundle of cloths in her arms. Did she hold a dead infant? They had
been quiet too long, and no newborn cry announced the presence of a living child.

Everett reached over and gripped Dex’s arm, letting him know he was there.

Julia pulled the blanket away from a baby’s face. Her mouth twitched into a tiny smile.
“Rachel needs you to help her decide on a name for your little girl.”

Dex shot up from his chair. “Do you mean . . . you mean she’s all right?” He glanced
toward the bedroom door.

“Both of them are fine. Tired, but beautiful.”

Pulling back the blankets and exposing thick black hair, Dex caressed his daughter’s
head, pressed a light kiss to her forehead, then rushed through the couple’s bedroom
door.

Julia took a deep breath and spoke to the baby. “It’s time we got you clean.”

Everett jumped from his chair. How could he help? “Do you need hot water?”

She smiled. “That water right there will do. This cabin’s like an oven anyway. I’m
sure the water’s warm enough.”

Moving to the window, he unlatched it. “I’ll let the heat out.”

“No. Wait.” Julia glanced at the baby. Would that be a good
idea? “Maybe we should wait until I’ve bathed her. Rachel said something about keeping
her covered so she doesn’t chill.”