Prince Charming (60 page)

She waited until he'd fallen asleep. “I love you, Lucas,” she whispered then.

As exhausted as she was, sleep still eluded her. She told herself she should be thankful her husband didn't hate her. She had forced him to radically change his life. He hadn't been given a choice. The poor man detested marriage and was now saddled with a wife and three children.

Taylor spent a good long while feeling sorry for Lucas. Then she started feeling sorry for herself. It was a wonder her husband could even stand to look at her. She knew she wasn't very pretty like Victoria was, and she was certain she wasn't at all lovable. She had too many faults. She was bossy and opinionated and rigid. She used to think those were assets. She'd learned everything she knew about life from her grandmother. Madam taught her to be disciplined and controlled. One never complained or made demands. One took what one was given and made the best of it. No one liked a whiner, and if the need to cry couldn't be suppressed, then one should seek out privacy so no one else would see or hear. A lady was a lady from the moment she opened her eyes in the morning until she closed them again that night.

Taylor was sick and tired of being proper all the time. It was a terrible strain. The urge to scream when something bothered her was getting stronger and stronger, and the need to kick some sense into Lucas was becoming more and more appealing.

He was making her give up her dream, too. She knew that if she pointed out that fact to him, he'd only tell her what he'd been telling her almost from the moment he married her. She wasn't strong enough. Lord, he'd called her fragile. She thought that was probably the most insulting thing he could have said to her.

She would prove him wrong. Yes, that was it, she decided. Arguing that she was every bit as fit as he was wouldn't mean anything. Words were just words. She would have to show him. Taylor stopped feeling sorry for herself and turned her thoughts to the summer ahead. She had three months to prove to Lucas she wasn't fragile.

Once Lucas started thinking of her as his equal, she was certain he would begin to treat her like a real wife and share his hopes and his worries and his past with her. He'd been in the war. That was the only substantial fact she knew about him. What had he done before and after? What was his life like growing up? She'd certainly asked questions. She never got any answers. Lucas would close right up on her. She didn't even know if he'd caught the man he'd gone after in Chicago. What was his name? She couldn't remember.

Love and trust went hand in hand. Taylor fell asleep praying for both.

—William Shakespeare,
King Lear

 

 

 

 

T
he following morning, Taylor put her plan into action. She was going to be the perfect wife, mother, and frontierswoman. She got out of bed an hour earlier than usual and had breakfast ready when the rest of the family stirred. If Lucas was surprised to see her working so diligently, he didn't show it.

After they'd eaten and the children had gone outside with Victoria, Lucas told Taylor he was leaving. “A man passing through told Frank there was a federal judge hearing cases in Rosewood the rest of this week and all of the next. If I press, I might be able to get the custody papers ready and the petition heard right away.”

“Shouldn't I go with you?”

Lucas shook his head. “I don't think you need to,” he said.

She didn't agree. Surely she would need to testify and sign the papers. She didn't argue with Lucas, however, because he assured her that the judge was going on to Virginia City after Rosewood and if she was needed, he would take her there.

Taylor helped him pack and then followed him outside. Hunter had already saddled his horse for him. He handed the reins to Lucas and then walked away so that they could have a few minutes of privacy.

“Please be careful.”

Lucas had been waiting for her to give him the order, and yet he was still surprised by how good it felt to hear her say the words. He didn't think he was ever going to get used to her worrying about him. Her love still overwhelmed him.

“I'll be careful,” he promised. He leaned down and kissed her good-bye. When he pulled back, she sagged against him. “After we get custody of the twins, I'm going to find out what we have to do to make the boy legally ours.”

She thought that was such a wonderful idea, tears came into her eyes. Lucas called the children over then and explained that he was leaving for a few days. He kissed the three of them, then told them all to mind their mother. Taylor noticed he stared at Georgie when he gave the order.

Allie cried when he left, then her sister joined in. Taylor didn't try to hush the little girls. They were doing exactly what she wanted to do. She said a prayer he wouldn't be gone long and then went back to work.

During his absence, Taylor put in a summer garden of cabbage, peas, turnips, and onions. Rolly stopped by to bring her a surprise, a second rocking chair identical to the first that he had started work on months ago and never got around to finishing. He thought Victoria might want to rock at the same time Taylor was using her rocker. She was thrilled with the gift, and after she'd given him sufficient praise and accepted the fact that he wasn't going to take any money for the chair no matter how long and hard she argued with him, she changed the topic to her garden and asked his advice.

Rolly ended up helping her with the chore. He made her dig up all the onions. They were buried so deep, they would never find their way up to the sun, he explained. It took her two full days of working from sunup to sundown to finish the garden.

Rolly put up wire fencing around the perimeter. He warned her the fence wouldn't keep out the rabbits, but he didn't have any suggestions to offer as to how she could keep them from eating the vegetables.

Victoria and Hunter usually went outside after supper while Taylor put the children to bed. The task shouldn't have taken her any time at all, but getting the twins to cooperate took at least an hour. Neither one of the little girls paid any attention to a word she said, and she didn't know what she could do to make them obey.

After they finally fell asleep, she turned her attention to Daniel. The bedtime stories were their special time together. The only problem was that she was running out of tales about Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett. She had already shortened her son's name to Daniel, and since he never corrected her, she thought he might be leaning toward that name. Yet when she asked him if he was going to choose Daniel or David, he shook his head and told her he hadn't made up his mind yet.

She tucked her son under the covers and fell asleep on the mat next to him. Hunter shook her awake. Victoria had sent him upstairs to make certain she was in the house. Taylor staggered to her feet. Hunter latched onto her arm on the way down the stairs so she wouldn't topple over.

“How long are you going to keep this up?” Hunter asked.

Taylor collapsed in the rocking chair and wearily began to unbraid her hair.

“Keep what up?” she asked.

“You're working yourself to death,” Hunter explained.

“You are, Taylor,” Victoria agreed.

“I'm just a little tired tonight,” Taylor admitted. “After I get into a routine and do what I'm supposed to do each day of the week, I'll be more organized and less weary. Everything takes twice as long now but that's only because I'm learning as I go along. Making soap should have only taken one day but it took me three.”

“Are you saying you are supposed to do certain chores on certain days?” Victoria asked. She glanced at Hunter to see if he knew what she was talking about. He wasn't paying Victoria any attention, however, for he was frowning down at Taylor.

“Yes, of course,” Taylor answered. “The women in the wilderness have set days for each chore. Monday is wash day and Tuesday is ironing. Wednesday is baking day and . . .”

“For the love of God,” Hunter muttered. “Where did you hear this nonsense?”

Taylor took exception to his tone of voice and his obvious ridicule. “I read it in Mrs. Livingston's journal. It seems very reasonable to me.”

Victoria sat down on the bench and folded her hands together in her lap. “You're killing yourself,” she told her friend. “You put in a garden, unpacked all the trunks, washed clothes, and made enough soap to last us three years.”

“But I won't have to make it again for a long time,” Taylor hastily pointed out.

Victoria turned to Hunter. “She mentioned she was going to make candles tomorrow. I can't imagine why we need them. We have plenty of lanterns.”

Hunter kept his gaze on Taylor. “Exactly what is it you're trying to prove?”

She was too exhausted to lie or give him a clever half-truth. “That I'm not fragile.”

He was taken aback by her answer. His eyes widened, and he almost smiled. She sure as certain looked fragile to him tonight. She looked half dead to him. Her complexion was as pale as flour and she had dark smudges under her eyes.

“Who said you were fragile?” he asked, already guessing the answer.

Victoria answered him. “I'll bet Lucas did.”

Taylor nodded. “I want him to realize I'm capable of making it here.”

“And then he won't make you leave,” Victoria said with a nod.

“Yes.”

“If that isn't—” Hunter began.

Taylor interrupted him. “I would appreciate it if neither one of you mentioned this conversation to my husband. I want him to see for himself that I'm strong and determined . . . and happy, damn it. Now if you'll both excuse me, I'm going to bed. I've had a long day.”

“Why bother going to bed?” Hunter asked. “You'll be getting up in another hour.”

She had secretly asked herself that question a dozen times in the last week. It did seem to her that as soon as her head hit the pillow and she closed her eyes, the sun was starting to climb back up in the sky.

“There is no need for sarcasm,” she muttered.

She went into Victoria's room to wash and change into her nightgown. When she heard the front door close, she came back out.

Victoria had thoughtfully pulled the covers back on her bed for her. A faint blush covered her cheeks, and Taylor thought perhaps Hunter had kissed her again.

“How are things going with you and Hunter?” she asked. “Are you getting along?”

“Get into bed first. You look dead on your feet,” her friend advised.

Taylor did as she was told. She smiled when Victoria tucked the covers around her. It felt nice to have someone look after her for a change. She patted a spot next to her on the bed and moved her legs out of the way so Victoria could sit down.

Her friend answered the question Taylor wanted to ask but knew she shouldn't.

“He kisses me good night every single night,” her friend whispered. “Sometimes more than once. He doesn't seem to notice I'm getting big and awkward and ugly.”

“You are radiant, not ugly, and that is what he sees.”

“He still says he's leaving as soon as the baby arrives.”

“He could change his mind.”

Victoria nodded agreement, but the look on her face indicated she didn't believe it.

“Taylor, what can I do to help you?”

“Give me some advice,” she answered. “Tell me what to do about Georgie and Allie. Be completely honest and tell me what you think of their behavior. They're old enough to listen and obey a few simple rules, aren't they?”

Victoria smiled. “You know I love and cherish Daniel and the girls, don't you?”

“Of course I do,” Taylor replied.

“Daniel is such a delight. He's getting more opinionated and stubborn, I've noticed, but he listens to reason. He certainly isn't a problem. But the twins . . .”

“Yes?”

Victoria let out a sigh. “They're little hellions.”

Taylor was in full agreement, yet as the twins' mother, she felt it necessary to defend the little girls. “They aren't always hellions. They listen to Lucas and Hunter. When one of them tells Georgie to get down off the table, she immediately obeys. They don't threaten her or plead with her and I know she isn't afraid of either one of them. She wouldn't be so sassy around them if she were afraid.”

Taylor sounded bewildered. Victoria smiled in response. “It isn't the end of the world.”

“They could drive a mother to drink,” Taylor whispered.

Victoria laughed. “I'm certainly not an expert, but I do know this. You have to start saying no, and you have to mean it. You can't reason or negotiate with a two-year-old.”