Page 6 of Mail-Order Brides Wishes
“Certainly. But Susie might get restless.”
“She can play in the back if ya think she’ll be safe.”
“She’d like that.” Before she could think what to do, he lifted Susie over the bench and into the back. Brynlee handed Susie her rag doll and blanket and the child was immediately absorbed in play, leaving Brynlee with no one… nothing… between her and Flint. Her husband. Not that it was a new thought. She’d carried it in her head and her heart from the time she accepted his offer of marriage. As she disposed of unneeded possessions and packed what she needed. She’d traveled across the great continent, slept on the hard wooden benches, and tried to keepSusie happy. But the reality was a different matter. It felt strange and awkward and downright unsettling.
With a breathy sigh, Flint resettled himself on the bench. “I told ya about the house that’s ta be ours, didn’t I?”
“You said it was small and well built.” Which gave her no ability to picture it. She’d come up with several possibilities— a one-room shack that was cozy. Or a log cabin with a loft for sleeping. Perhaps even a long, narrow building.
“’Tis that. The previous owners built it when they first started ranchin’ then they built a bigger house. But don’cha worry. It’s a good ‘nough house so long as yer not fussy.”
She chuckled. “All I ask for is a roof over my head and walls to keep out winter snows. Oh, and a bed to lay my head on. And a stove to cook on.”
His chuckle was pleasantly deep and rumbling. “We got all that and more. If ya like the mountains, we get a good sight of them.”
“During the journey, I read again Isaiah, my favorite book in the Bible. The tenth verse in chapter fifty-four caught my attention.” It had burrowed deep into her heart and strengthened her faith. “‘For the mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed; but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord that hath mercy on thee.’” She’d been reminded that although she was going into the unknown, she was going with God’s kindness and protection.
“Wishing I could read better.”
Would he be offended if she offered to teach him? Or she could make a point of reading aloud when he was in the room. Instead of voicing the possibilities she addressed something that she wondered about.
“Why didn’t you go to school?”
Another of those deep chuckles. “There ain’t no school behind a herd of cows ‘cepting the one of hard knocks and I had my share of them.”
“But surely you didn’t do that when you were a child?”
He studied his hands. Rearranged his feet. Looked into the distance.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
He drew in air and expelled it slowly. “Ain’t anything ya shouldn’t know. Just tryin’ ta think how ta explain.”
“I’d like to hear.” She hoped her soft words enticed him to continue.
“I don’t remember a time I didn’t ride with my pa. First, in front of him in the saddle then behind him, and then on my own horse. Ya see, I grew up on a horse, lookin’ out on cows.” He momentarily left off watching the tail end of the horses to glance her way. “I maybe make it sound worse than it was. Pa was good ta me. Taught me lots. He always meant to teach me my letters, but ya know? After a hard day of ridin’ sleep seemed more important.”
“I see. And your mother?”
One shoulder rose then dropped. “Don’t remember her. She died when I was young. I think maybe three or four.” He turned to study Susie who had fallen asleep on her blanket. “Bout her age.” Pale eyes met hers, filled with resolve and— if she had to guess— a load of determination. “A child deserves ta know home, safety, and love, don’cha think?”
At the way he spoke, with such tenderness and concern for Susie, her throat tightened making words impossible. She could only nod.
Flint turned back to watching the trail ahead of them.
Her voice returned. “We appear to have a lot in common. My own mother died when I was four. I lived with mymaternal grandparents after that. They were kind but not overly affectionate.” Was there a slight tremble in her words?
The wheels continued to turn. The trail slid under the wagon as the talk between them grew to a halt. Then he straightened. “My life wasn’t bad. Just not what a child should have.”
“Same here.”
They both glanced back at Susie and then looked at each other. She hoped what she saw in his gaze was an echo of her own intention. “I hope Susie can enjoy a different sort of childhood.”
His gaze held hers. Gray eyes blazing. His mouth tightened. “Guess it’s up to us to make sure she does.”
The moment locked in stillness and stares. Brynlee nodded. He’d taken on the task of making a child’s life sweet. A child who wasn’t his. If she needed proof of the sort of man she’d married, this provided it. Her heart overflowed with joy… or was it gratitude? Or the promise and hope for her own security?
Unevenness in the road bounced them and she turned back to regarding the trail.
