Caught in the Middle (34 page)

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Authors: Regina Jennings

Tags: #Christian Books & Bibles, #Literature & Fiction, #Historical, #Romance, #United States, #Religious & Inspirational Fiction, #Religion & Spirituality, #Christian Fiction, #Historical Romance, #FIC042030, #Texas—History—19th century—Fiction, #Abandoned children—Fiction, #FIC042040, #FIC027050

BOOK: Caught in the Middle
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“Do you blame me?”

“Not at all. It has to be this way, I know. And with time it won’t hurt as bad—but it’s not that time yet.”

He drew her close and pressed his chin against the top of her hat, or maybe it was a kiss, she couldn’t tell.

“Truthfully, I came back to Garber for one reason—to clear up this mess. I was obligated to serve if elected, but I don’t need Garber to succeed.” He stepped back, his eyes following the path of the river. “When I first got started I didn’t care what I was successful at, just as long as I achieved. This time I’m going to be more particular. I like being the boss—no surprise to you. I like dealing with crews, lumber, shipping. I know the railroad business, but that’s not the only game in town.”

“Town? So are we staying in Garber?”

“No. I have some ideas, but none of them involve us living here. I’d rather start somewhere new. Somewhere fresh for both of us. Truthfully, I can’t stop thinking about that dense forest around Atoka.”

Anne’s throat closed. “Atoka? We could move there?”

His smile was wide. “I hope you will, because that’s where I’m headed, and a giant saw won’t keep me company.”

She didn’t know what to say, what to do, but he seemed to enjoy her floundering. “We would . . . we could see Sammy?”

“Before we left, Reverend Holland invited us back anytime. He even mentioned a place for lease by the river where one could start a lumber mill. It’s not in town, mind you—”

“But they wouldn’t care if we visited Sammy?” Her fingers dug into his hand.

“They encouraged it.”

Anne wasted no more time and threw herself at him. She clutched the back of his head, knocking his hat off. She kissed him, laughed, and kissed him again. “I would’ve gone anywhere with you. You didn’t have to do this.”

“My life here is closed, and I can think of no place I’d rather start anew, but it’s not too late. If you’d rather stay—”

Anne didn’t allow him to complete the thought before sealing his lips with yet another kiss.

 27 

A
TOKA
, I
NDIAN
T
ERRITORY
M
AY
1884

The sight of her husband in his Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes always gave Anne’s heart a turn. More time in the mill yard that spring had heightened the gold in his hair and bronzed his skin. Had he much use for his suit coats, she would’ve let them out, but wearing them only once a week, he claimed not to mind the way they strained across his shoulders.

“They should be here any moment. How do I look?” Nick held his hands apart.

Anne wiped the side of the brimming gravy boat. “As if you didn’t look in the mirror already.”

“I enjoy my wife’s praise more than my own reflection.”

“In that case, you are one handsome devil, and it’s fortunate that I have you out here in the woods to myself, else I’d be getting into scrapes with all the girls.”

He smiled and turned to the window to admire the stacks of pine boards lining the mill yard. “I don’t miss the view from my office one bit.”

“Or the rickety staircase?” Anne set the gravy boat on the table and opened the box of silverware—a wedding gift from Weston and Rosa Garner.

“Harold says the new staircase is holding up just fine, which is a blessing. I wouldn’t want something to happen to Garber’s favorite county commissioner.”

“It could’ve been you,” she said. “Are you sorry you left?”

“Not for a moment.” Nick eased the silverware box away from her. Just as well. He had a better idea of how a place setting should look. Anne went on to slice the ham instead.

Outside their dog barked.

“Quiet down, Rex,” Anne called out the window to the puppy. The Hollands must be arriving. She scanned her kitchen one last time. Orderly. Simple. Their good china graced the table. The food filled the house with delicious aromas. The only extravagance in their temporary home was the Glenwood Grand stove that they would move to their new house when it was finished.

“You look beautiful.” Nick wrapped his arms around her and untied the apron strings behind her back. She ducked as he lifted the neck strap over her head, trying not to let it snag on the gold brooch pinned to her lace collar. Nick handled her carefully, probably more because of the fancy French twist she’d forced her curly hair into than for her delicate condition.

Merry voices flooded through the open windows.

“Sammy, there’s Rex,” Reverend Holland boomed. “That little mutt loves you.”

Mrs. Holland
tsk
ed. “Don’t let it jump up on you, Sammy. You’re all clean.”

Anne waited patiently by the stove for her favorite moment. Every time Sammy came to visit, he always looked to
that spot first. He expected Anne to be there, and she didn’t want to disappoint him.

The door burst open. Sammy shoved off his hat, tossed it to the floor, and headed straight to her. No more toddling now, he ran to Anne and collapsed against her knees.

“Auntie! Auntie!”

She knelt, kissing him on both cheeks. “Hello, Sammy. How’s Aunt Annie’s big boy?”

“I want the dog.” He pointed behind him and grinned. “Can the dog come in?”

“No.” Mrs. Holland pulled the door shut behind her. “The dog stays outside. I don’t want it to steal any of Aunt Annie’s delicious food.”

“Your ma is right.” Anne picked him up, lifted the pump handle, and swished a bar of soap over his grasping fingers. My, how he’d grown. “Rex gets enough scraps, as it is.”

“I don’t have to preach today, do I, Nicholas?” Reverend Holland shook Nick’s hand. “You being all spiffed up has got me confused.”

Nicholas waited for Anne to deposit Sammy into his chair and for their guests to be seated before he took his place at the head of the table. “Today is a special occasion,” he said.

Anne’s face warmed as she arranged her skirts, even though she had nothing to be embarrassed about.

“A special occasion?” Mrs. Holland tied a bib around Sammy’s neck. “Do tell. I love surprises.”

What was Nicholas waiting for? Oh. His hand was outstretched above the china, waiting for hers before continuing. She hesitated and then met his grasp. Her other hand touched the gold brooch, a gift from Nick’s parents. By next week they’d get the letter, and then everyone in Prairie Lea would
know. Maybe Molly and Mrs. Puckett would come up to be with her when the time came.

Nick cleared his throat. “As the only family we have in the area, we wanted you here to celebrate our joyful announcement.”

But he never got to make it, because judging from the Hollands’ pleased cries, they’d guessed it already.

“How marvelous,” Mrs. Holland cried. “When?”

“I hope it’s a boy,” Reverend Holland said. “What fun Sammy and he will have together.”

Amid the happy questions, Sammy tugged on Mrs. Holland’s sleeve and asked why no one was serving the food set before him.

How different his life would’ve been had Anne run away with him. She didn’t like to think about it, knowing how close she’d come to denying him this family.

How close she’d come to losing it herself.

Anne looked around the little room filled with the people she loved. Not everyone she loved was there, but she enjoyed the thought that they had happy rooms of their own. All over the world there were families deciding to care about one another and encourage one another along the paths God had given them. She’d always wanted to be included in one of those circles, and although she’d never thought she would have this much, it now looked like God might give her even more.

Regina Jennings
is a graduate of Oklahoma Baptist University with a degree in English and a history minor. She has worked at
The Mustang News
and First Baptist Church of Mustang
,
along with time at the Oklahoma National Stockyards and various livestock shows. She now lives outside Oklahoma City with her husband and four children.

Books by Regina Jennings

Caught in the Middle

Love in the Balance

Sixty Acres and a Bride

An Unforeseen Match
featured in the novella,
A Match Made in Texas

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