The Seven Days of Christmas: An Emerson Pass Historicals Novella by Thompson Tess

Author:Thompson, Tess
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 4kids5cats Editions
Published: 2021-12-24T00:00:00+00:00

4

Shannon

The next morning I woke to the sounds of my husband’s soft snores. I kept my eyes closed, not wanting to wake fully and face the day. We’d gone to bed without speaking last night. A first for us. I’d curled up at the very edge of the mattress, as far from him as I could. If he felt inclined to overtures of reconciliation, he didn’t act upon them. I’d made him angry with me, I supposed. As much as I hated this coldness between us, I couldn’t seem to thaw. I’d always thought of anger as hot, but apparently it could be icy as well.

I rolled onto my side. Still sore from the baby and with breasts full of milk, my body felt like one of the cows my family had raised. Longing for my once slender and youthful body, I sighed, which woke Flynn. He opened his eyes and must have forgotten for a second the strife between us because he smiled and reached out for me. Then, just as quickly, his eyes hardened. He rolled away from me and got out of bed, pulling on his robe.

About then the baby started crying.

“I’ll bring her to you,” Flynn said with no emotional inflection whatsoever.

I didn’t answer but sat up and placed both pillows behind my back, knowing Rita would want to feed. The curtains were closed, but enough light came in through the cracks that I could see around the room. Same room I’d loved since the moment I moved in. Dark furniture and white walls had seemed luxurious and modern compared with my family’s farmhouse. For that matter, they still did. I loved our home with its expensive rugs and wide-plank floors. Lamps and vases decorated the side tables. A pretty clock hung on the wall near the door.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the large round mirror hung over the dresser. Just inside the bathroom, a nook for my dressing table had yet another mirror. In our whole house growing up, my sisters and I had shared one small handheld mirror. We used to fight over who could look at herself while fixing our hair. My older sister usually won unless Nora protested with tears and pouting, in which case Alma relented. As the middle sister, my turn always came last. I cared more about peace than I did my hair. Where was my sense of peace now?

I would never have predicted Flynn's head turning my direction. I'd never thought much about him at all, even though we'd grown up together. His sisters were my friends. We all went around together for skating parties and sleigh rides before the war. After the boys came home, I'd had only gratitude that Flynn, Theo, and Isak had all returned unharmed. At that time, my sisters and I were trying to save the ranch. From sunup to sundown, we toiled doing the work my father had managed alone until his death.

During the first years of my marriage, I'd been blissfully happy.

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