Page 34 of Mail-Order Brides Wishes
“Flint, that’s a great story.” She mused over the way things had turned out for him.
He turned off the trail. They passed through trees with barely enough room for the wagon. “This here is the place.”
Trees circled a grassy area, bending low to provide a leafy roof.
“I’ll never forget how special it felt ta think that God cared enough ’bout me ta help me.” His voice crackled. “Saved me now and forever. No one would have come lookin’ fer me." His voice lowered to almost a growl. “Weren’t no one who cared.”
“Things have changed.” Yes, he’d found that God loved him, but he needed to understand something more. “Now someone cares.” Would he understand she meant herself? “Someone needs you.” She lowered her head and whispered, “Someone wants you.” He might not have heard those final words, but she meant them. More than she would have believed possible in such a short time.
Had he heard her right? She wanted him? Did she mean more than for giving her a home? Or was he foolishly wishing for more than he deserved?
He couldn’t bring himself to ask. He didn’t want to put her on the spot, nor did he want an answer that would have him realize how foolish his hopes were. A man didn’t need to invite that sort of hurt. Instead, he got from the wagon to help Bryn and Susie. Not that Susie needed much help. All he could do was catch her, so she didn’t hurt herself jumping down.
“It’s like a tree house.” She waved her arms overhead to the leafy trees and then began tramping through the grass. Brynstood at his side. “It’s a beautiful place. Hearing your story about being here makes it even more beautiful.”
Feeling a little awkward at having told her so much, he thought it was time to change the subject. “Wanna explore?”
“Indeed.” She took a step forward and her feet tangled in the tall grass.
He caught her hand to steady her and kept hold of it as they made their way after Susie who darted in and out of the trees as if playing tag with the shadows. It weren’t that he needed a reason to hold her hand because, after all, she was his wife, and yet he did. She stumbled again and his grip on her hand tightened.
“Look! Look!”
They hurried to catch up to Susie who stared up into a tree.
“I seen a bird go to that nest.”
He saw the nest she meant. “A mama bird feeding her babies.”
Susie stood, her mouth open, her eyes wide with fascination. “Where she is now?”
“Either she flew away or she’s sitting on her nest hiding her babies.” And she wouldn’t come back while a bunch of people was watching. Not that he was gonna tell Susie that and dash her hopes.
“Let’s see what else we can find,” Bryn said after a few minutes of watching the overhead branch and seeing no birds. She reached for Susie’s hand.
The little one hesitated then with a huge sigh, took her aunt’s hand.
The three of them moved on, hand in hand, like a real family, like belonging, like…
It hit him. It was here he’d found God. What better place to let himself believe he’d found family as well.
They poked through bushes, explored around trees, paused to overturn rocks, and waited while Susie collected her treasures— shiny rocks, a big leaf, a twig she said looked like a bird flying. All of them, she gave to Flint to carry, trusting him to make sure they got home safely. He would certainly do that.
They returned to the wagon where he piled Susie’s treasures in the back for safekeeping then helped Bryn spread the quilts under some trees where the grass wasn’t tall enough to be a bother.
She put the box holding their lunch in the middle and they sat around it.
“I’ll say grace.” He tossed his hat to one side. Seemed he should have special words at this special place, but nothing came to mind. So he prayed his usual grace.
Bryn handed him a thick sandwich. Took another for herself and a thin one for Susie. Once they’d eaten those, she held a plate before her but didn’t offer it to anyone.
“This place is special to you. Well, these biscuits have a special memory for me. I was only a bit older than Susie when my mother died. I remember very little about her. I was sent to my maternal grandparents to live. They were old and set in their ways, but they tried to give me a home. One time my grandmother had to go out. I couldn’t have been six yet because my father hadn’t remarried. She left me with my grandfather who never noticed me. Mostly he sat at a desk in his study or slept in the big armchair he claimed as his. Grandmother said I was to be quiet and not bother him. She gave me a little lunch and said I could eat out under the trees. A picnic was a rare occasion for me. I suppose she was hoping it would keep me outdoors and quiet and not bothering Grandfather. Little biscuits filled with jam were my lunch. I’ve had a fondness for biscuits and jam ever since that.” She laughed softly. “I made tiny ones just like I remember.” She folded the cloth backenough for him to see biscuits no bigger’n a plum. Another little laugh. “I did make some bigger ones for you.” She finished removing the cloth and revealed a pile of regular-sized biscuits, golden brown with red jam poking out.
He took one, never taking his attention off her. Questions raced through his head. He wanted to know more about her life back east. Both as a child and as a grown-up. Would she answer him if he asked them? One way to find out.
Susie stood up. “Can I go?” At Bryn’s nod, Susie grabbed two tiny biscuits and skipped away. Now would be a good time to ask some of his questions.
“Ya said you had this picnic—” He held up a jam-filled biscuit to inform her what picnic he meant. “Before your father remarried. I’m guessing that would be Susie’s grandma.”
