Frontier Want Ad Bride by Lyn Cote

Author:Lyn Cote
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Love Inspired Historicals
Published: 2017-09-05T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Judith stood, quivering, gazing at the staunch oak door, the door Asa had shut against her. Again.

She picked up the tin water dipper. She fingered its long handle. Then hurled it at the door. It hit, bounced back and then rattled a bit on the floor before subsiding.

She had not thrown anything in temper since she was a child. And why had she now? It didn’t solve anything or make her feel any better. In fact, the act mimicked her flimsy attempts to break through to Asa. He was the hard oak door. She was the flimsy tin dipper.

She walked over, bent and picked up the poor dipper with sympathy for it. What could a tin dipper do to an oak door? Did I make a terrible mistake coming here and marrying Asa?

In the barn, she’d told him when she’d recognized him. She’d wanted to talk about it, know why he’d kept his war record a secret here. But then the look on his face had wrung her heart. So pained, so lost. She hadn’t been able to help herself. She’d kissed him. But her kiss had no power with him. She pressed a hand over her heart, which was aching for this good man. Maybe if I’d been born pretty...

Lily opened the door. “Can I have a drink of water?”

“Please?” Judith prompted automatically.

“Please?” Lily skipped over to her, dolly on her arm, kittens at her heels.

Soon Judith held the full dipper out.

Lily sipped from it. “Thank you!” And the little one skipped outside, singing to her dolly, kittens scampering after her. Lighthearted, unburdened.

Still holding the dipper, Judith walked to the open door and gazed out. In the yard of coarse, vividly green wild grass, Lily played with the kittens. Colton sat on the ground by the barn door, whittling. A peaceful scene.

And of course, Asa was holed up in his barn. Tears sat just behind Judith’s eyes. Frustration had caused her to throw the dipper. Frustration and anger at being left out of the one life that had come to mean the most to her.

On the day of building the sandbag levee, she had finally discovered a clue to why Asa shut her out. Now she’d finally confronted him about his true identity and he’d forbidden her to talk about it.

Forbidden her. What am I going to do with this stubborn man?

She glanced over her shoulder at her shiny new Singer sewing machine. Asa had bought it for his bride. He’d brought home kittens. He’d taken in the children. He’d saved the town.

Nevertheless, he never let her get close to him.

Would they continue to live separate lives? He in the barn, she in the house? He in the loft, she in the bedroom? Was that how a marriage was supposed to be?

No, please, no. Asa, you’ve won my loyalty. You’ve gained my respect. Why can’t you let me in? Why can’t you let me love you?

That last question mentally stopped her in her tracks. I love Asa Brant, Fitzgerald Brant, my husband.

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