Temporary Bride: Dakota Brides by Ford Linda

Author:Ford, Linda
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crocus Mountain Publishing
Published: 2018-03-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

He knew what day she meant. It was forever branded into his brain. “You were tired and frightened.” It was the first time she’d given in to him without an argument. Only because she was so shaken.

He had ridden over to start the haying for her. As he approached the farm, he saw her struggling to swing a scythe. She had already made two swaths around the field. His first thought had been anger that she couldn’t wait for help. His second had been amusement. The swaths were scattered and bunched. He could picture her faltering efforts as she tried to get the feel of swinging the big blade and letting it cut through the grass.

The next thought still sent his lungs into spasms. He’d glanced around to see what she’d done with Charlie. He saw a rumpled quilt at the edge of the field. But no small boy. The child had only started to walk and had a sweet little stagger. He couldn’t have gone far. Anker’s heart had practically jumped from his chest when he saw the bobbing head of black hair headed toward his mama—straight into the path of the wicked metal blade she swung. He’d kicked his horse and raced across the field, praying the animal wouldn’t step into a badger hole and praying he would make it in time.

He shuddered as he recalled the sweep of that blade, moments after he’d scooped up Charlie. “It’s a miracle I got to him in time.”

“I know. You have to believe I thought he was asleep.”

“But you couldn’t be waiting for me to help. You had to prove you could do it on your own. Your hands were blistered and bleeding. You were hot and thirsty, but would you stop? No. Not until I made you.” It still filled him with helpless frustration when he recalled the evidence of uncharacteristic tears on her dusty face, saw her oozing palms, and held a hot, fussy baby who had barely escaped being hacked by his own mother.

She glanced away then looked at him with a hungry desperation. “I can’t depend on you for everything. It makes me feel . . . well, like I did back in Mrs. Miller’s house. I don’t like the feeling.” She swallowed loudly.

“My helping doesn’t carry a price.” Just as he had tried to persuade her that God’s love was full and free.

“I don’t know how to be any other way. You talk about how we need only trust God and accept His love. I don’t know how to do that either. All my life, love has had a cost. Help has a price.”

“Even with Johnson.”

He could tell his question troubled her.

“It was different with Johnson. We were partners. Equal.”

He understood what she did not say. She was comfortable with the idea of sharing equally. But even with Johnson she couldn’t accept the idea of taking something offered out of love. He wondered how he could make her see it without offending her love for her husband.

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