Bartered Bride Romance Collection (46 page)

BOOK: Bartered Bride Romance Collection
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Luke looked up to see not only Jim but Matty and Bess grinning at him. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t as inscrutable as he wished, but did Jim have to draw attention to it? “Speaking of big mouths,” he tossed back, not sure whether his animosity was genuine or part of the sibling habit of communication he and Jim had developed.

“I’m just worried about you.” The grin on Jim’s face belied the serious tone he tried to maintain. “You look lonely, even though you’re sharing a table with your favorite brother and three beautiful women.”

Though repartee usually flowed freely between the two of them, on this occasion, Luke couldn’t think of a single reply. Anything he wanted to say would only invite more teasing or, worse, solicitous inquiry from one of the women. He just wanted to be alone in his misery.

As Bess stood to serve slices from a cake that ordinarily would have had him licking his lips in anticipated enjoyment, he stood as well. “If you ladies would excuse me, I need to make a final check on a couple of ailing heifers.”

The look in Matty’s eyes could have rivaled the expression on Rhubarb’s face as she stalked Ramon. “If you happen to be finished in an hour, Corrie has said she’d like some company for a few minutes.”

Chapter 7

S
ince Luke’s “chores” in the barn had been merely an excuse to get away from the table, he stayed outside only as long as he felt necessary to maintain his deception. As soon as he returned indoors, he stepped into the small wash-up room just off to the side of the entrance. Mom had insisted on the small room when they were building the house. “I want to make it easy for you guys to wash the barnyard grime off before coming to my kitchen table,” she’d stated firmly.

Even when they were the only ones in the house, he and Jim still adhered to the standard she’d set. But tonight Luke took even more care with his cleanup. He shaved, praying he wouldn’t nick himself in his haste. After changing the water, he washed his hands again, even scrubbing under his nails. In his room, he selected his “going to town” shirt and a clean pair of pants. Jim would likely tease him about “going courtin’,” but Luke didn’t care. He wasn’t going to pay even a short visit to Corrie’s domain while looking and smelling like a ranch hand. He paced as much as his tiny room would allow until enough time had elapsed that no one could tease him about being overeager.

Jim was seated at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, apparently keeping Matty company while she washed dishes. Luke could hear the other two sisters discussing a difference of opinion in the parlor. Jim opened his mouth as if to say something, but a look from Matty quelled the comment.

She dried her hands then moved toward the stairs. “I’ll just go up to make sure Corrie is ready for company.”

Thankfully, Jim’s silence held in his wife’s absence. Only after Luke had been given permission to go upstairs did he whisper, “You’ve got it bad.”

Jim’s brotherly needling evaporated from Luke’s mind as soon as he saw Corrie. Her hair hung loose and shining. She sat up in bed, leaning against the wall for support, clothed in some sort of dark blue, thick garment. Maybe it was what his mother would have called a dressing gown. She looked pale, but her eyes held more vibrancy than he remembered.

“Luke, you can sit here.” Matty gestured toward a steamer trunk situated under the window and covered with a cloth. “I have a few things to do in our room, so you two enjoy your visit.” She left the door wide open as she departed.

Luke didn’t know what to say. He wanted to take Corrie’s hand in his, enfold her in an embrace, any physical contact just to assure himself that she really was well.

“I won’t break if you say something,” she teased.

He chuckled to hide his surprise. The Corrie he remembered was too wounded and fragile to tease. What had happened up here in the past three weeks? “You’re looking well,” he managed to say.

She smiled in acknowledgment. “I am well, better than I’ve been in a long time. The rest has been good for me.” Her hand lay on a large black Book by her side.

“You’ve been doing some reading?”

This time her smile glowed. “Yes. This was my mama’s Bible, and I inherited it when I got married. I’ve finally been reading it.”

Suddenly Luke understood the changes he detected in her face. Peace and healing had come to this fragile woman. Whatever had transpired between her and God had given her a strength he’d never guessed lay below the surface of her heartache.

“Isn’t it amazing what God can tell us when we’re finally able to listen?”

“Oh, it is!” The wonder in her voice caught at his heart. “Do you mind if I tell you what I’ve been reading today?”

“Not at all!” In fact, it would be a relief if she did most of the talking. He felt entranced by the changes he saw in her, his feelings intensified by the weeks of their separation. If he had to sit here just making conversation, he might say something that still needed to wait.

She opened her Bible to John’s Gospel. Her gentle voice read a few verses, and then she went on to describe what the verses had come to mean to her. “I’ve never realized before how deep God’s love for us is. I keep reading this one Gospel over and over. It seems every time I read it, I understand something new. Even the miracles Jesus did reflect His love for the people involved. Somehow, I’d always thought of Him as remote from human daily life. But He’s not. He really cares!”

Luke couldn’t help but grin in response. “I can’t think of anything better to think about whether one is busy or confined to bed. I’ve been reminding myself often of how much He loves us. It helps to know He cares as much about my loved ones as I do.”

Pink tinged her cheeks as she rubbed her huge belly. He could see in her eyes reflections of myriad thoughts chasing one another through her mind, but the blush gave him hope she’d heard, and maybe even accepted, the hint he’d just given her.

Before any more could be said, Matty bustled back into the room. “I hate to say it, but time’s up. We need to get the little mama lying down again.”

However, each night thereafter, Matty invited him upstairs again. The visits were always short, yet Luke felt a one-hour Bible study couldn’t have encouraged his spirit more. Corrie obviously spent her hours alone not only reading Scripture but also in making its message practical. In his most private moments, Luke also hoped he wasn’t imagining the development of an emotional bond between them.

The day before Thanksgiving, Matty pulled him aside. “Would you be willing to carry Corrie downstairs tomorrow so she can spend the day with us?”

He gaped at her while a multitude of disjointed thoughts tumbled through his mind. Delight at being given a reason to hold Corrie in his arms. Joy that her health was stable enough to allow her to participate in the holiday. Anticipation of having her around all day. Concern that the excitement might be too much for her. “Bringing her downstairs won’t cause a relapse?”

Matty shrugged. “It’s impossible to predict. At this point, though, if the baby does insist on coming, I think he or she would be big enough to make it. The benefit to Corrie of being part of the family celebration outweighs the risk.”

“Have you talked with her about it?”

“Not yet. I thought I’d wait until after she eats breakfast in the morning. If there have been no complications in the night, then I’ll tell her what we have planned. However,” Matty looked sternly at him, though twinkles in her eyes softened the look, “I will count on you to help ensure that she doesn’t overdo. I don’t want her taking more than three steps by herself, and I don’t want her sitting upright for more than half an hour.”

Luke hadn’t felt this elated since his dad had allowed him to drive the family buggy the first time. Of course, Jim had some observations to make as they did evening chores together. “I hear my wife has given you your assignment for tomorrow.”

“Yup.” Luke refused to say anything that would give Jim added ammunition.

“It seems significant to me that she didn’t ask me, her husband, to help care for her sister. She asked a nonrelative, if you know what I mean. It’s almost as if I smell romance in the air.”

Luke focused on portioning just the right amount of hay for the horses they would keep corralled throughout the winter. “Perhaps she knows that you’ll be so busy making moon eyes at her that you wouldn’t be trustworthy for the job.”

“Married men don’t make moon eyes,” Jim protested, as Luke had known he would.

Luke looked pointedly at the pitchfork Jim was aiming at the back corner of the stall in question. “They usually don’t muck out stalls for milk cows, either.”

No major activities were ever planned for the Rough Cs for Thanksgiving Day, so Luke was able to finish his routine chores before breakfast. He even cajoled enough hot water away from the bunkhouse to take to the barn for a bath in an old laundry tub he set up in the workshop. He didn’t want any scent of sweat or animal to be clinging to him when he held Corrie in his arms. A shave followed. Thankfully, the women had done laundry earlier in the week and ironing yesterday, so his best shirt and jeans were fresh.

Bess grinned at him as he entered the ranch house. He couldn’t recall ever having seen that expression on her face before. She looked delighted with what she saw as she looked at him, as if he’d passed some test he hadn’t known about. “Matty said you can go upstairs whenever you want.”

Bertie stood at the counter stirring something and not looking happy about it. But as soon as she saw Luke, her countenance changed. “For true, you look fine, Luke. Corrie’s sure to be impressed.”

“Bertie!” Bess protested, though her eyes twinkled with laughter.

Luke felt heat creep up his neck, but he held Bertie’s gaze. “Thank you for the compliment, but let’s allow Corrie to make up her own mind, okay?”

Her eyes told him she understood his unspoken message. Bess looked back and forth from Luke to Bertie as though knowing there was more communication than she was privy to. But she didn’t pry. “Go on then. I’m sure Corrie’s impatient.”

But impatience wasn’t what Luke heard in Corrie’s voice as he reached the top of the stairs.

“Matty, you can’t ask Luke to carry me.” She sounded embarrassed. “I’m sure I weigh more than one of his horses.”

“No, dear one, you just feel like you do.” Matty’s voice was gentle. Luke could envision her stroking Corrie’s hair as she did so often. “For your baby’s sake, let him do this, okay?”

“I just hate being so helpless.” Luke now heard tears in Corrie’s tone. The sound twisted his heart. He paused, both to give Corrie time to collect herself and to give him time to think of a way to ease the situation for her.

Jim probably would have had a wisecrack to make her laugh. But Luke didn’t want her to feel as if he were making light of her distress. Slowly he made his way toward her room, thumping his freshly cleaned boots on the floor slightly to ensure the women heard his approach. Before he reached her doorway, he called out, “Is the queen ready?”

The giggle from within reassured him, though it was Matty who answered. “I believe she is.”

The view that greeted Luke as he stepped through the doorway almost made him trip over his own feet. Corrie sat on the edge of her bed, clad in a long, flowing dress of some soft gray material that brought out the blue of her eyes and gave her maternal figure the look of elegance and grace. Braids encircled her head, though tendrils of hair dangled around her face. He couldn’t help the words that fell out of his mouth. “You’re beautiful!”

Corrie’s cheeks turned deep rose. “That’s stretching a compliment, but thank you. Are you sure you’re up to carrying me down the stairs? I’d never forgive myself if you injured yourself.”

“Corrie.” He spoke her name gently then waited for her to look into his face. “I promise you as your friend that if you’re too heavy, I’ll tell you. Can you trust me to be honest?”

She studied his eyes then sighed and nodded. “Okay.”

“So if I don’t complain, you promise not to give in to any sneaky feelings of guilt or embarrassment?”

“I’ll try.”

Before she could anticipate his actions, he slid one arm under her knees and the other around her waist. Instinctively, she curled one of her arms around his neck. “See? There’s nothing to you. I’ve lifted feed bags that are heavier.”

BOOK: Bartered Bride Romance Collection
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