скачать книгу бесплатно
Mosquitoes and gnats buzzed around his head. He waved them away as he watched the fading and returning lights of the stars dancing in the darkness above him.
Wind blew through the leaves of the trees and across his face, whispering a mournful sound that reflected the sad state he now found himself in.
He had no idea how to deal with his swirl of feelings.
Minutes ticked by while Michael berated himself for placing that ad in the first place. For not going out to meet her. For falling in love with a fantasy. If he hadn’t done that, then none of this would have happened. “Lord, I know I did this to myself, but what am I going to do about Selina? She’s a woman who is the complete opposite of everything I ever dreamed of. Imagined. Prayed for. She’s a woman—” He stopped and sighed.
Selina was a woman. That much was obvious when the blanket had fallen from her shoulders. Through her thin nightgown, he could see the outline of her womanly curves, curves that would be the envy of most women. Yet the way she dressed did nothing to show her femininity.
He sighed heavily and scratched his neck.
“Lord, You know I’ve been talking to You for eleven years, asking You for a woman like Rainee. Why would You send me someone like Selina? Why? Please, help me to understand.”
He listened for that still, small voice, but the only sounds he heard were coyotes howling in the distance, frogs calling out into the darkness and an owl hooting somewhere off in the trees.
Selina stepped up to the door in time to hear Michael ask why God had sent him someone like her. Her heart broke knowing she was causing Michael so much pain and heartbreak. But there was nothing she could do about it. Still, it hurt something fierce that he didn’t want her. Her dreams of them becoming truly hitched disappeared like smoke in the wind.
Careful not to make a sound, she backed away from the screen door and hightailed it back upstairs and into her bed. Not one normally given to crying, she buried her head into her pillow, soaking it with her tears. Something akin to bear claws tore at her heart, shredding it to pieces.
Being in love with a man who didn’t love her back hurt something fierce. Living with him every day was going to be the hardest thing she’d ever come up against. “Lord, give me the grace I need to survive. And I’d be right beholden to You, iffen You’d ease this awful pain in my heart and in Michael’s, too.”
After a few hours of fitful sleep, Selina lit the lantern next to her bed and slid into her garments. She grabbed the lantern in one hand and her boots and stockings in the other and crept down the steps and into the kitchen.
Careful not to make any noise, she made her way down the cellar ladder and cut off a slab of bacon and fetched a couple of eggs before she commenced to fixing breakfast. Coffee, bacon, eggs and fresh flapjack scents made her stomach growl.
Selina stood in front of the dish cabinet. Back home, she had a handmade breadboard counter to hold her dishes. It sort of reminded her of this piece of furniture, but her breadboard counter had a flour bin and several drawers and it didn’t have glass doors like this fancy piece did. Plus, hers was covered with oil cloth and this one had a shiny finish to it. Made her afraid to touch it, it was so fancy. But she didn’t have any choice. Not if she wanted to serve Michael his breakfast.
She opened the door, pulled out a couple of plates and froze at the sight of the dainty blue flowers and leaves. They were blue, not yellow, not pink and not any other color but blue.
Her favorite color.
Sure seemed like someone went to an awful lot of trouble to get dishes with blue in them. But, she sighed, they weren’t meant for her. She set the table and then sat down with a hot cup of coffee. Bowing her head and closing her eyes, she clasped her hands together and said her morning prayers.
“Good morning, Selina.”
Selina yanked her head upward to find Michael standing in front of her with a look of a man who didn’t know what to do.
Bags sagged under his bloodshot eyes. His hair was all muffed up, and his clothes looked as if he’d slept in them.
“Did you sleep well?” Jumpin’ crickets, Selina. That was a stupid question. Anyone could see he ain’t slept but a wink.
His gaze slid over her face. “About as well as you, apparently.”
Selina wished she had stopped in front of the looking glass before she came down. She had no idea what she looked like. Slowly raking a finger through her hair, she stood and put her back to him. Having him study her like that made her skittish. “Can I get you some coffee?” she asked, even though she had already grabbed him a cup and started to fill it.
“Yes, thank you. That would be nice.”
“You just sit yourself down and I’ll fetch ya some vittles.”
Selina placed a plate with four pieces of bacon on it, six biscuits and a small mound of scrambled eggs onto the center of the table.
He looked up at her. “Aren’t you going to have any?”
Selina glanced at the food and frowned. “Yes, sir.” Confused by his question, she lowered herself onto the chair.
Before she could ask more, Michael reached over and clasped her hand in his.
Her attention flew right to him. Warmth spread up her arms and into her body as she yanked her hand away. “Wha—whatcha doin’?”
“Getting ready to pray.” His eyes softened.
“Oh.” She nodded, feeling dumber than a fence post for asking. She slid her hand back across to his.
His eyes drifted shut.
She knew she ought to close her eyes and concentrate on his prayer but her mind took a turn in another direction. While he prayed, she studied his face, wondering if those full lips were as soft as they looked.
Strength flowed through his rough hand even though he held hers with the softest of touch. Having her hand in his felt right nice, a little too nice considering their circumstances.
Her eyes trailed up his arms. Arms with muscles that were so big they pulled at the seams of his shirt sleeves. What would it be like to have him slip them around her and pull her close? Would she ever be close enough to his heart to hear it beating?
Her attention slid up to his eyes. Heat barreled up her neck and her cheeks felt hotter than the red coals in the cook stove over yonder. Just when had Michael stopped praying and caught her stealing her fill of him?
She looked at their hands, jerked hers from his and all but shoved the plate of food in front of him. “You—you’d best start eatin’ before—before it gets cold.”
Eating was the last thing Michael thought about doing right now. When he’d reached for Selina’s hand, the instant he’d made the connection, warmth spread up his arm and slipped into his heart. He had no idea what that was all about nor did he want to know. Confused over what had just happened, he struggled to pull himself together so he could pray.
When he opened his eyes and saw Selina studying his arms and chest, saw the longing on her face, something stirred inside him. That foreign feeling made him vastly uncomfortable.
He rammed his fingers through his hair, but they snagged on some tangles. What had he been thinking coming to the breakfast table without combing his hair first? Even when he lived alone, he groomed himself before sitting down to eat. This whole situation had him so upset and confused he was no longer thinking or acting rationally.
To get his mind off the situation, he looked at the paltry plate of food she had placed on the table. Selina said she hadn’t eaten yet. If they shared what little food was there, that amount wouldn’t hold him long at all. He normally required twice as much as that just to make it until lunchtime.
He didn’t understand why, when he had a cellar full of food, she had made so little. His gaze snagged on the numerous patches scattered on her sleeves. Obviously, Selina had come from poverty. Could that be why she had made so little breakfast? Because that was all she had been able to fix back home?
If that was the case, he didn’t know what to do or how to handle the situation with delicacy. How could he let her know that it was okay to fix plenty here without hurting her feelings or acting like some rich boy throwing his wealth around?
Michael sighed inwardly. He silently prayed and asked God for wisdom concerning this situation. No answer came immediately, so in the meantime, he made do. He piled half of the eggs, three small biscuits and two pieces of bacon on his plate, then he moved the plate in front of her.
“Somethin’ wrong with my cookin’?” She glanced at the center plate and then at his.
“I don’t know. I haven’t tried anything yet. But everything looks and smells real good. Why do you ask?”
“’Cause you only took half of what I fixed.”
“Didn’t you tell me you hadn’t eaten yet?”
“Yeah. So?”
“Well, that’s why I only took half.”
Her forehead wrinkled, and her brown eyes narrowed.
Michael had no idea why she appeared so confused. Women. Who could figure out what they were thinking? No man, that’s for sure.
He picked up his fork, scooped up a mound of eggs and shoved them into his mouth. Flavor, unlike any he had ever tasted before, burst through his mouth. “Umm. These are delicious, Selina. What did you do to them?” He spoke around the eggs, then gathered up another rounded forkful.
She smiled. “Fried them in butter and bacon fat. And added the tops of those things I found down yonder.” She pointed to the cellar. “They looked like the ramps back home, so I took a chance.”
“What’s a ramp?”
“An onion or a leek,” she said as she added one piece of bacon, one biscuit and a small spoonful of the scrambled eggs onto her plate. “Come springtime, you can find them all over the Appalachian Mountains.”
“I see. I’m sure it’s beautiful there.”
“Sure is.” Her face brightened. The woman was definitely easy on the eyes.
“Do you miss home?”
Selina shrugged. “Don’t know. Can’t rightly say. I ain’t been gone long enough to tell.” With only a few bites, Selina finished her meager portion, hoping Michael had gotten enough.
“Have some more.” Michael pushed the rest of the servings toward her.
“Thank you kindly, but I’m done,” she said even though her stomach was pinched with hunger pain and wasn’t near full enough. Then again, it never had been before. Now should be no different.
His eyes, soft and questioning, held hers as strong as a foot stuck in a mud hole. “Are you sure?”
Selina had made the decision, and she wasn’t backing out now. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
Michael’s attention stayed on her face a spell before he heaped the rest of the food onto his plate and devoured it within minutes. He looked over at the stove with something akin to longing in his eyes before he averted his attention onto his coffee cup.
“Somethin’ wrong?”
“Well, I was just wondering something. Before I took the rest of the food you said I only took half of what you’d made. Does that include biscuits, too?”
“Yeah. I wasn’t sure how many to make. I wanted to stretch the food so we’d have plenty to eat. I’m sorry iffen I didn’t make enough.” She looked down at her hands, fiddling with the patch on her pants leg. She’d wanted to be such a good wife, and already she felt the pain of his disappointment.
Michael’s finger rested under her chin, tugging it upward. “Selina, look at me.” With the gentlest touch, he raised her head, forcing her to look at him, even though she wanted to look everywhere but at him for fear he would see the love she had for him in her eyes.
“I’m a big eater. I want you to know that we have more than enough food. So you can make plenty all the time. And…”
She watched him swallow and draw a breath.
“I want you to eat more, too. What you ate this morning wouldn’t keep a baby chick alive.”
She pulled her eyes away from his intense stare. It hurt to be so close to him, to feel he might care and yet know he didn’t.
His finger dropped from her chin and rested in front her.
She wanted to snatch back his hand and cradle it against her cheek.
To hold it.
To feel its strength.
To enjoy the small pleasures a married woman like her ma had enjoyed.
But that would likely never happen, except in her dreams. And dream she would. No one could steal them from her. So when her head hit the pillow tonight, she’d dream of holding his hand.
Of him wrapping his arms about her and kissing her.
But until then, he was waiting for her answer. “Don’t rightly know iffen I’d be able to. Food was mighty scarce back home. Always made sure my brothers and Pa had enough to eat first. Then I ate what was left. Which was never much. So, I’m used to not eatin’ much. Even with you sayin’ we have plenty, I still can’t help but be scared that iffen I do eat too much more we might not have enough come winter time.”
His eyes trailed over her face, her arms and her body. Well, what he could see of it with her sitting in a chair. Still, his studying her like that made her uncomfortable.
His attention ended on her eyes, and if she weren’t mistaken, pity filled his. And she didn’t like it. Not one little bit. She didn’t want him feeling sorry for her and she’d let him know that. But before she had a chance to tell him so, he hitched his chair back and headed to the pantry.
When he came back he had a copper container with him, sat the thing down in front of her and raised the lid. He reached inside the jar and pulled out a handful of cookies and laid them on her plate and his.
He filled their coffee cups, something she should have thought to do, and then sat down. “Eat,” he ordered with a smile. His face turned serious as he looked at her. “I don’t want you ever worrying about food again, okay, Selina? We have ten dairy cows, a large herd of cattle and hogs, and plenty of chickens and eggs. We grow our own wheat so flour isn’t a shortage, either. Plus, Mother, my sisters, and sisters-in-law all grow large gardens every year. And if something happens to any of the food or gardens, we can go to town and buy some. If worse comes to worst, we’ll have it shipped in by train if necessary. Money is not an object.”
Selina didn’t know what to think. She’d never had such a mess of food before. She glanced at her plate and stared at the sandwiched cookies with the preserves in the middle. They looked mighty good and mighty tempting, too. Putting her fears aside, she decided that for once in her life her belly would take its fill.
Michael took a bite of one of his mother’s syltkakor cookies. He thought about Selina not having enough to eat and how she had given her food to her brothers and her father first and then to some stranger on the train. A woman she’d just met. The very idea of that stirred something deep inside him. He wanted to provide for her and protect her from ever going hungry again.
As she continued to enjoy her cookie Michael used the opportunity to study her. Dark-brown eyelashes, long and full, almost touched the top of her high cheekbones. Her nose had a slight bump in the middle, and her lips were pink, with a few cookie crumbs sprinkled on them.
He reached over to wipe them off. The moment his thumb made contact with her lips, her eyes flew open and she jumped back. “What ya doin’?”
“You had crumbs on your lips.” He flashed her a sheepish smile. “I was just wiping them off for you.”
She swiped her mouth with her hands and then with her sleeve. With one eye slit, she tilted to the side. “Much obliged, I’m sure.” She sat as far back into her kitchen chair as possible as if to get away from him. “What kind a cookies are them anyways? They sure are good.”
“They’re syltkakors.”
“Silt a whats?”
“Swedish sandwich cookies.”
“Oh.” That was all she said before taking another bite.
Watching her enjoy every morsel made him realize just how much he had taken for granted. He had always had plenty to eat, a roof over his head and an abundance of clothes. Never had he lacked for anything. But Selina had. And yet she didn’t seem bitter, nor did she complain about her lack. He wondered just how many times in her life she had gone without so another would not. Knowing how poor she was, he was surprised by her generosity. And if he was willing to admit it even to himself, that generosity endeared her to him. Just how he felt about that, he wasn’t sure. But he was sure about one thing. He would definitely find out. That thought both frightened and intrigued him.
Chapter Four
Five cookies later, Selina laid her hand against her gut. This was the first time she’d had a belly full of anything and it felt mighty nice. And scary. Her fears of running out of food stuck to her like caked-on mud. Would she ever get over that fear even after all Michael had said about having plenty?
Michael’s eyes trailed to her mouth. Last time he’d touched her lips her belly and heart fluttered as if someone had released a thousand fireflies into them. So before he could brush the crumbs from off her lips again, she hurried up and did it herself.
