His Brother's Bride Page 8

  Love,

  Emily

  She sighed and covered her mouth with a trembling hand. Would her uncle accept her words? Please, Lord, help Uncle Stewart be fair-minded. What other hope had she?

  ❧

  “Did you know my mama?” Adam asked.

  His question stilled the breath in Emily’s body. Her hands, too, stilled on the lump of dough before they resumed their kneading. “No, I didn’t. I know she was very special, though, and that she loved you very much.”

  Adam squished the small wad of dough she’d given him to play with. “She died when I was borned.”

  “I know.” She wished she knew what else to say. Was the boy missing his real ma? The thought brought an ache to her own stomach. She’d grown to think of him as her own son.

  Something had happened once she’d written that letter to her uncle. It was as if it had freed her. There was no wall of lies between her and her husband and no tricking Adam into going on treasure hunts. Somehow it seemed she was truly his mother now and not just playing a role.

  “Pa said she’s in heaven.” He flattened the dough.

  “Sure enough. She had Jesus in her heart just like you.” Emily smiled down at him, but when she saw his wide blue eyes gloss over with tears, her heart caught.

  She knelt down and put her hand on his arm, mindless of the sticky flour that coated it. “Oh, Sweetheart. What is it?”

  His chin quivered, and a tiny frown puckered between his brows. “What if you go away too?” His eyes scrunched up, and he dove into her arms.

  She embraced him, her own eyes stinging. He was worried he was going to lose her like he had lost his ma. She remembered when her own mother had died. Consumption, they’d said, but it had seemed so unfair. At least she’d known her ma. Adam had never gotten that chance.

  “I can’t promise that bad things won’t happen, Adam. But God has it all under control, and He has a purpose in everything He does.”

  She pulled back and looked him in the eye. “Why, just look at us. Didn’t God bring you into my life? What would I do without my special boy?” Her throat ached with a knot that seemed lodged there. “And you needed a mama, and didn’t God send me to you? You see, He cares for us and provides for us.” She smiled through her own tears and wiped Adam’s cheeks. Flour from her hands dusted his face. She chuckled. “You’ve got flour on your face now.”

  A smile wobbled on his lips, and he put a powdered finger on her nose. “Got you back.”

  She laughed and hugged him tight, her love for him welling up in her.

  “I love you, Ma.”

  Warmth enveloped her like a thick, cozy quilt. “I love you too, Son.” And she realized then that she truly did love this child of her heart the way she would love a child of her body.

  ❧

  “Look, Ma, a matatoe!”

  Emily looked up from the straggly weed she’d gripped and laughed. “Sure enough, it’s a tomato.”

  “Can I pick it?”

  “Oh, no, not yet. See how green it is? It won’t do for cooking until it’s red as a cherry.” She yanked with all her might, and the weed came uprooted. “You keep an eye on it, though. It’ll be red before we know it.”

  The garden was coming along nicely, and she took pride in the plants she’d tended so carefully. Come winter, they’d have a cellar full of vegetables to last through the cold months. She’d have a lot of canning to do.

  In the two weeks since she’d written to her uncle, she’d felt like a whole new woman. Though she was anxious to hear from him, she felt sure he would come to his senses. He should know it’s futile, and he’s surely eager to be rid of Nana.

  She would have to broach the subject with Cade soon. It wouldn’t be too hard given the way he’d taken to talking to her. Twice now, he’d even touched her shoulder as he passed by in a way that had made her skin heat and her heart sigh. In church last Sunday, he’d put his arm across the pew behind her shoulders, and she scarcely understood a word Reverend Hill uttered from that point on.

  Is he really starting to care for me, Lord? It seemed so impossible that he would, but wasn’t God capable of anything? Even changing the heart of her stubborn husband?

  Having not heard Adam making any noise, she glanced up to see what he was up to. He was splayed out on his belly in front of the same tomato plant, his gaze fixed earnestly on the green vegetable.

  A smile tilted her lips, and she sat back on her haunches. “Adam, what are you doing?”

  He spared her a glance. “Keeping an eye on the matatoe.”

  “But why?”

  “You said it’d turn red soon.”

  Emily chuckled, delighted at his earnestness. She scooted over beside him and tickled his belly. “I’ll bet I can make you turn red sooner.”

  He laughed and rolled away, but she crawled after him on her knees. “Gotcha!” She sprinkled his ribs and knees with tickles, and he laughed until his face colored. Before she knew it, she was lying in the dirt beside him, a tomato plant crowding over her shoulder.

  “Well now.” The voice from the edge of the garden made her shoot upright. Cade stood there, silhouetted by the sun. His hands rested on his hips. “I think I see a couple nuts ripe for pickin’.”

  Adam jumped up beside her. “Pa!” He ran across down the row of plants, leaving footprints behind him. “We didn’t plant no nuts.”

  As Cade swung Adam into his arms, Emily stood and dusted the dirt from her skirts.

  “Is it that late?” she asked. The sun was behind the house, but it seemed too early for Cade to come home. Was he angry she’d been fooling around instead of working? Why does he always seem to catch me at the worst possible moment?

  “Nah, came home early today. Thought I might know a young ’un that’d like to go wading in the creek.”

  Adam squealed and squirmed until Cade set him down.

  Emily walked toward them feeling a bit out of place. Her bonnet had slipped off and hung from the ribbons tied at her neck. She felt her hair and tried to tuck away the damp strands that had come loose.

  “Will you teach me to swim, Pa? Please?”

  “Not tonight. Thought we’d go to that shallow spot by Bender’s Meadow.”

  Emily turned toward the house. She supposed she could get the floor mopped up while they were gone. Hearing the happy chitchat behind her made her feel strangely empty inside. She felt like a fifth wheel. Cade and his son were a pair. Where did she belong?

  While Cade went to hitch up the wagon, Emily filled the tin pail with water from the pump and shaved some soap into it. She looked across the length of the house and felt a sigh well up in her. No use moaning about it, Emily Jane, it needs to be done.

  As she dipped the mop into the water, Cade entered the house.

  “What are you doing?”

  She pulled the sopping mop from the water. “Mopping the floor.”

  His expression seemed to fall, and she wondered what she’d done now.

  He tapped his hat against his thigh, his gaze scanning the floor. “You don’t want to come along?”

  Her heart sailed high at his words. He’d assumed she would come with them.

  “I thought you might pack us a little supper, and we’d picnic alongside the creek. If you want to, I mean.”

  Her hands tightened on the mop handle, the soppy weight of it bearing down on her arms. A picnic. She felt a smile tugging on her lips. “That sounds just fine. Let me just. . .” She looked back toward the kitchen, wondering what she’d fix for their picnic, but turned back, realizing she still had a mop in her hands.

  “Here, let me get that.” Cade took the mop from her hands and picked up the full bucket. “Something quick and easy’s just fine.”

  She nodded and scurried off to pack the meal.

  ❧

  Before long, t
hey were at the bend in the creek. She selected a spot on the high bank under a weeping willow tree, its graceful branches hanging down around them like a veil. Adam slipped off his shoes and stockings and slid down the grassy incline.

  “Careful you don’t fall,” she called.

  While Cade gathered the basket from the wagon, she spread the colorful quilt over the grass and sank down in the cool shade. She slid off her bonnet, and the evening breeze ruffled the stray hairs. She patted it, wishing she’d taken the time to put it up again. The knot was loose, and some of the pins were sliding out.

  Cade set the basket beside her. “You should take it down, now that it’s cooling off.”

  She lowered her hands, and heat crawled up her neck at having been caught primping.

  “Come on, Pa!” Adam called from the edge of the creek. Sunlight broke through the leafy canopy and kissed the water here and there with splotches of light.

  “Comin’,” Cade called. He tugged off his boots and socks and began rolling up the ends of trousers. His calves were thick with muscle and covered with hair as black as the ones on his head.

  “You coming in?” Cade’s gaze was fixed on her, his lips tilted in a crooked grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

  He’d caught her staring! She began unpacking the basket. “I’ll just stay here and get everything ready.”

  In the fringes of her vision, she saw him stand to his feet. “Suit yourself.”

  It didn’t take long to set out the simple fixin’s of bread, apples, and cheese. Once she did, she watched Adam and Cade playing together in the water, reluctant to interrupt.

  When they walked downstream a ways, she laid back against the soft, worn quilt and closed her eyes. She could hear a bird chirping in a tree above her, and the wind sighing through the leaves. She drew in a breath and let the day’s worries and frustrations slide away. The last thing she remembered hearing was a squirrel chattering off in the distance.

  A faint tickling sensation on her nose tugged her from someplace warm and lazy. She brushed at her nose, drifting away once again.

  Again, something tickled her nose, and she reached up to swat it away. She gradually became aware of a cricket chirping somewhere nearby. Her eyes opened. Above her, Cade’s face hovered, and she could feel the heat from his body so near her own. She looked around.

  The picnic. I fell asleep. “Adam.” She started to sit up, but Cade put a hand on her shoulder.

  “He’s fine. Just trying to catch tadpoles.”

  She noticed the willow twig in his hand, its feathery leaves dangling down toward her stomach. “You were tickling me.”

  His smile made her heart skip a beat. “Guilty.” But he didn’t look guilty at all. In fact, he looked completely unrepentant. His jaw was shadowed with a day’s worth of stubble, and she thought for the first time that it only added to his rugged good looks.

  “Shame on you,” she said, studying for the first time the way the sun had tanned his skin, leaving only fine white lines bursting around the corners of his eyes.

  “You’re pretty when you’re sleeping.”

  “Only when I’m sleeping?” Did I just say that? She sat up and felt the heavy mane of hair fall onto her back. The pins had finally come loose. In her hair and her brain.

  She didn’t know how close she was to Cade until she felt the whisper of his breath across her face. “No,” he said.

  She looked him in the eye, and her heart stilled at his nearness. “What?”

  “You’re right pretty all the time.”

  He picked up a length of her dark hair and ran it between his fingers. Chills shot down her neck and across her arm.

  “I’m hungry!” Adam called.

  She turned to see him running up the incline, his britches wet and soggy and splotches of darkness flecking his shirt.

  “I caught me a tadpole, Ma!”

  She gathered her wits. “Where is it?”

  “Got away. We eating soon?”

  Emily busied herself smoothing out the blanket. When she reached Cade’s corner, he remained unmoved, staring at her, a smile on his face that would melt ice. She moved to the center where Adam sat with a plate already filled with the picnic fixin’s.

  After they filled their bellies, Emily packed the basket and blanket while Cade untied the horses. The ride back seemed longer somehow than the ride here, but perhaps it was only because Adam was not separating them this time. Cade’s thick thigh rubbed up alongside hers until she could think of little else.

  By the time they’d arrived back at the farm, the sun had sunk from the sky, leaving only a sliver of moonlight to see by. Cade lifted Adam down from the wagon and handed him the basket and blanket. “Think you can carry all that?”

  “Yes, Sir!” Adam swaggered into the house, clearly pleased to be a helper.

  Cade turned then and gave her a hand down. His hand felt large and warm in hers. It would have been comforting if not for the way it set her heart to racing. She turned to the house.

  “Stay out here awhile.”

  She turned to look at him.

  “Light a lantern for me?” he asked.

  She moved into the barn where the lantern hung on a peg and lit it. She turned and watched as he unhitched the horses with sure, strong movements. He was an enigma, this man. This brother of her dear friend, Thomas. How she wished she’d had a brother or a father who’d been alive long enough for her to figure out how a man’s mind worked. As it was, she was at a loss. Surely most men were nothing like Uncle Stewart.

  One day Cade was like a stranger living in the same house, and the next he’s like a friend who wants to be my—

  Her throat grew dry at the thought, and her traitorous heart beat a jig she was sure Reverend Hill would disapprove of. You’re being silly, Emily. He’s just a man. He only wanted you to light the lantern, and here you stand staring after him like a forlorn schoolmarm at a barn dance. Why he’d probably think you were daft if he even knew the directions of your—

  It was only then she’d noticed he was standing in front of her. Not just in front of her but right in front of her. Surely no more than a whistle away. The glow of light hit his face at all the right angles, kissing his upper cheekbones, letting shadows seep into the recesses of his jaw. His dark lashes had lowered to nearly his cheekbones, leaving just a sliver of those sparkling eyes in view. She’d give the baby quilt she’d worked on for weeks for just an inkling of what was going on behind them.

  “I’ve been praying, Emily.”

  “Oh?” If her heart jumped any harder, surely it would bump his chest.

  “You know, about us.”

  She nodded as if she knew what he was talking about. He’d long ago slid the hat from his head, and the dark strands of hair framed his face, the light glimmering off them.

  “You’ve been a gift to Adam and me. A gift from God, and I got to wondering how He’d feel about how accepting I’ve been of that gift.” He lowered his head, the shadows enshrouding his face. “I reckon it must look to God like I took the gift He gave me, put it on a shelf, and said ‘no thanks.’ ”

  Her face heated at his words. Her heart kept tempo with the music in her soul, and she held her breath waiting for the words she hoped to hear.

  Twelve

  “Last night I told God ‘thank You,’ ” Cade said. “He’s sent me a wonderful mother for my son and a wonderful woman to be my wife.” The flesh of his palm found her cheek, and his thumb rubbed across her lips until she thought her knees would give way.

  “When we married, I didn’t know you wanted young ’uns. Shoulda known, I guess, but I didn’t give it much thought. I was too wrapped up in my own needs.” His other hand found her face, and she felt wonderfully surrounded by the comfort of his flesh.

  “What I’m trying to say, I suppose, is that I’d like to give this marria
ge a fighting chance—if you’re willing, that is.”

  Eyes the color of a blue spruce questioned her in the glow of the lamplight. Her heart took flight at his words.

  “I’ve come to care for you a great deal, Emily. I think we make a good match, you and I. And I’d like to. . .I’d like to court you the way a man courts a woman. I don’t know much about you, but I want to learn everything. I want to know whether you wore hair ribbons as a girl and if some boy ever broke your heart. I want to know how you feel about moving here to Cedar Springs, and—I want to know if you could ever care for me.”

  His last sentence ended in a whisper she felt all the way to her toes. His lips, inches away, begged to be kissed. She looked deeply into his eyes, hoping he’d read her feelings there, because suddenly, not a word would squeak from her parched throat.

  His lips lowered onto hers, slowly, maddeningly slowly. Her heart quickened, and she met his lips with a desperation born of loneliness and desire. His lips teased with soft brushes, tasting, testing, until she feared she’d go mad for want of him.

  Finally, he embraced her, pulling her closer to him than she had ever been. Her skin heated up like a stoked bonfire. She wondered if her ears glowed orange with the warmth of it. His hands curved around the back of her head, holding her firmly, lovingly.

  Her hands worked up his strong chest and rested there.

  A moment later, he pulled away, though their arms still embraced one another. Their breathing came quickly. Cade’s eyelids were half shut, a lazy surprise in his eyes.

  She pulled away. She could hardly believe his effect on her. Weren’t women supposed to be subdued and—well, they certainly weren’t supposed to be so, so needy and eager! Her gaze found the hay-strewn floor even as heat crept up her neck. What must he think of her now? She’d behaved like a wanton woman instead of a wife doing her duty. She was still breathing heavily. Shameful!

  She felt his knuckle tip up her chin. His lips tipped in a crooked smile, but she noticed he, too, had not yet caught his breath. “You are some woman, Emily Manning,” he rasped.