After the Rain (6 page)

Who was she kidding? She knew the reason. She wanted him to find her attractive because she thought he was the handsomest man she’d ever known. Except Daniel, of course, she swiftly added to her thoughts. It wasn’t solely his hair, or expressive eyes, or muscular build which made him attractive. It was his selfless, attentive personality and his high moral character. If ever there were a good man, it was Rand McCade.

Inside the mercantile, she went directly to the bolts of fabric. Rosie had returned and came to her.

“The yellow one is brand new, came in this morning, just before I left for Myrtle’s.”

Lettie smiled, for she already knew that information. “I’d like ten yards of it, please. And a spool of yellow thread.”

“Good choice.” Rosie pulled out the bolt of fabric and carried it to the counter. She unraveled the roll, parallel to a yardstick, continually folding the material until she had measured out the requested length. “Do you need a pattern for your dress?”

“I think I can tweak one that I already have, but thank you.”

Rand was nowhere to be seen when the time came to pay. Something in Lettie’s purse jingled when she moved to the window in search of Rand. She’d forgotten that she had a tiny sum of money that was her own because Rand had provided for everything she’d needed since arriving. Returning to the counter, she paid Rosie the money owed for the fabric.

“Come back and show off the dress when you finish. You’ll look as pretty as a peach.” Rosie handed over the material, now wrapped in brown paper.

Lettie’s smiled broadened, remembering when Rand had paid her a similar compliment. “I will.”

“And stop in anytime even if you don’t need anything. I’ll never turn down the chance for conversation.”

Wandering outside, she found Rand talking to Glen. “There she is now,” she overheard him say. He ended the conversation and came to her.

“Did you see the yellow with the flowers?” he asked.

“Yes and that’s what I purchased.”

He tilted his head to the right. “You purchased?”

“I didn’t see you and I had some money in my purse.”

His nose scrunched. “Next time, find me. Save your money for something special.”

“But this was special,” she teased. “Seems my husband thought I’d look pretty in it and I’m a vain lady.”

“Lettie, darling, you are anything but vain.” His voice lowered. “But if we weren’t right in the middle of town with people all around, I’d swoop you up and kiss you fully.”

“Oh my,” was all she could say.

“Come on, let’s go home.” Rand lifted her into the wagon, and she wondered that he could lift her with her added bulk.

Not until they were halfway home, did she notice how full the rear of their wagon was. “Do the animals really require that much feed?” She didn’t remember Daniel every purchasing such a large amount at once. “That pile looks large enough to feed them until kingdom come.”

“Better to be prepared,” he answered with an air of confidence, but that grin he’d been sporting all day spread even more, if that was even possible.

“Randall McCade, is there something else you’re not telling me?”

“I don’t know about what you speak.” His words rang of sincerity, but he wouldn’t look at her.

“Yes, you do, but unfortunately, I do not. You’ve had a goofy smile all day and the one you have now, nearly matches that of the one you wore right before the tea.”

He chuckled. “There’s nothing that escapes your notice, is there?”

“I’ve learned to read people well.”

“In that case, I’ll tell you that, yes, I do have one more surprise for you today. But you have to wait until later this evening to find out what it is.”

She tried to imagine what it could be, but the possibilities were so vast, it was impossible to guess. “Can I have a hint?”

“No, ma’am.”

Twisting her lips, she concentrated harder, but still had no conclusive ideas. When she was a child, her nursemaids had always told her she was too inquisitive for her own good. Years later, she hadn’t changed her curious attitudes, but had the wisdom not to push and risk ruining the surprise.

The remainder of the trip home was spent with idle chatter. They arrived back at the ranch and Rand parked the buckboard near the barn. Trying to stand up became a monumental effort. The jolting of the wagon had intensified the constant aching in her lower back. In a second attempt, she braced one hand against the offending area and grabbed onto the front of the wagon with the other hand. She tried to swing herself, hoping to propel herself into a standing position. Did all pregnant women have problems this bad?

“Lettie, what’s wrong?” Rand’s usual deep timbre raised an octave.

She bit the inside of her cheek. Her limitations frustrated her. “I’m having a bit of trouble standing.”

He climbed up in the wagon, his eyes narrowed and full of worry. “Place your hands around my neck. I’ll carry you inside.”

In too much discomfort to argue, she wrapped her arms around him. He scooped her up, carefully dismounted the buckboard and carried her into the house. Not putting her down as she’d expected, he carried her straight upstairs to the bedroom.

“I’ll bring you some willow bark. Try to get comfortable and rest.”

She settled into the pillow and mattress, waiting for him to return. Her eyes fluttered with the heaviness of sleep. Rand returned, and she barely remembered taking the medicine before falling asleep.

When she awoke, she didn’t know how much time had passed, but the sun was low in the sky, sending copper hues through the window. She sat up, the pain in her back greatly diminished. The weariness was gone, and she’d gained a small amount of energy from her nap. She really must get out of bed and go fix supper.

Throwing her legs over the edge of the bed, her stocking-clad feet hit the floor, not her boots. Rand must have taken them off, so she’d be more comfortable. She certainly hadn’t been the one to remove them. Again, his consideration heartened her. Opting to leave off the footwear, she stood and padded to the door, where Rand was passing by.

“How are you feeling?”

“Much better.”

“Ready for your surprise?” His green eyes shone with excitement.

She perked up. “Yes!”

Taking her hand, he led her down the hall to the second bedroom. He stopped at the door, moved behind her and covered her eyes with his hands. “Walk straight,” he told her. “I’ll tell you when to stop.”

Silently, she counted each step. Rand told her to stop after the tenth one, removing his hands from her face. “You can open your eyes now.”

After blinking a few times to adjust her vision she looked around the room until she laid her eye upon a cradle. Not just any cradle, but the most exquisite one she’d ever seen. Its sides were a solid construction with small engraved openings at the top. Tranquil scenes of nature were expertly painted on the exterior and a finial rested on each corner. She’d never seen anything so beautiful, even in the richest nursery in Baltimore.

“Do you like it?” There was a hitch of apprehension in his voice.

She threw her arms around his neck, her eyes misting. “I love it. Thank you.”

Suddenly, she became very aware of the intimate position she’d placed them in, but her arms wouldn’t move—her hands remained joined behind Rand’s head. Their gazes locked, and he stared at her intently through darkened eyes. Her heart fluttered, then increased to a rapid, unsteady beat. His breath was just as shaky. Something was transpiring between them. He trailed a hand down her cheek, pausing at her mouth, letting a single finger rest on her lips.

Neither moved. She didn’t blink, nor could she tear her gaze away. Lowering his hand, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her as close as her stomach allowed. Bending his head, he rested his forehead against hers.

“Lettie,” he uttered hoarsely, seconds before he moved his head, bringing his lips to meet hers.

She kissed him back, positive her world was spinning in dizzying circles. For this one moment, she set aside everything in her life that caused her doubt and grief. With an instant epiphany, she knew right here, with Rand, was where she was meant to be.

Rand had to inspect his fence lines. He’d put it off for too long, staying close by the house this week. Trying to lift his spirits, Rand whistled while he saddled Thyme. An uneasy feeling regarding Lettie had come over him that he couldn’t shake. The last few nights, she’d not slept well, constantly shifting and trying to find a comfortable position. He’d comforted her the best he could, holding her, massaging her shoulders, anything he could think of to ease her distress.

He’d made a habit of going back to the house multiple times a day to check on her. That’s one of the ways he knew how poorly she was feeling as she didn’t even bristle at his
domineering attitude
as she called it when she had a mood. He couldn’t help checking on her. Her fitful nights of sleep and circles under her eyes worried him, even more than he’d let on. He couldn’t lose another woman he loved.

The realization hit him when they’d shared their first kiss last month. He never thought love would happen to him again, hadn’t sought it out, yet it found him anyway.

The end of April was fast approaching, and they’d been married over two months. Time had flown by, but he and Lettie had such an open and honest relationship that it was like he’d known her for years.

One day soon, he’d have to take some time of solitude and talk to Mellie, thank her for insisting he marry again. But not today. He had no doubt of his feelings toward Lettie, but he was still reconciling them with what he’d shared with Mellie. Once he could do that, he’d declare his love to his wife.

Thyme was saddled and Rand was loading tools into the saddlebags when he thought he heard someone calling his name. He stopped what he was doing and listened carefully. Again, he heard it, soft and weak, crying for help. Running out of the barn, he searched for the voice.

“Lettie, where are you? Are you okay?” he shouted.

“By the clothesline,” she cried out.

His legs ran as fast as they could. He saw Lettie, hunched over, gripping her stomach. Her skin was ashen, her cheeks void of their usual rosiness. Pink lips were pale and drawn into a taut line.

“What’s wrong?” Gripped with fear, he knelt down in front of her.

“I think the baby is coming,” she told him through strangled breaths.

“Now?” If he hadn’t already placed his hands on Lettie’s arms, he would have smacked his forehead. Of course, she meant now.

“Yes. I’m scared, Rand. It’s too soon.”

“Everything will be fine,” he whispered in a low, soothing voice that didn’t match his internal panic. “I’m going to carry you into the house, and then I’m going to race into town and find Flynn.”

“Don’t leave me,” she pleaded as he stood and lifted her into his arms.

He was torn in two. Leaving her was the last thing he wanted to do, but going for a doctor would be best, especially if the babies were early. “I’ll not be long.” Turning and angling his body, he found a way to open the door without setting her down. He carried her up the stairs and laid her in bed. “Can I get you anything before I leave?”

“No,” she gasped, her breathing increasingly labored. “Just hurry. And bring Myrtle as well.”

He kissed her forehead, then sprinted down the stairs and back into the barn.

Relieved that Thyme was already saddled and ready to go, Rand jumped in the saddle. “Change of plans,” he told the mare. “We’re going for Doc.”

Pushing Thyme to her limit, he sat atop his mare as she galloped across the prairie, reaching the town in record time. The entire time he prayed for Lettie and the baby’s safety. He rode directly to Flynn’s house and knocked frantically on the front door.

Myrtle answered the door. “Dear heavens, boy. What is the matter?”

“It’s Lettie. The baby is coming. Is Flynn home?”

“He’s finishing stitching Stevie Grant’s hand. Shouldn’t take but another few minutes.”

His foot tapped of its own volition. What if they didn’t have a few minutes to spare?

“Don’t worry. Laboring for first babies usually takes longer.” Myrtle must have read his mind, or maybe she’d seen the panic in his face.

“But he shouldn’t have been here for another month.”

A nugget of worry passed over Myrtle, not alleviating any of Rand’s fears. “God has his own timing and we must trust in his will. Why don’t you go home, and I’ll tell Flynn.”

“Lettie wants you there, as well. Please come,” he begged.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Go on, now. Start boiling some water and gathering clean linens.”

He nodded a brief acknowledgement before retreating to Thyme. Every minute back to the ranch felt like an hour. “Please look after Lettie and our baby,” he continued to pray. He rode Thyme up to the porch then hopped off and dropped the reins to the ground. He’d untack her later after he saw for himself that Lettie was fine. Taking the steps two at a time, he raced up to see her.

“Are they here?” she whispered, perspiration beading on her forehead.

“They will be in a few minutes.” He sat beside her, on the edge of the bed. Using his handkerchief, he wiped the moisture from her brows. “How are you feeling?”

Another contraction hit her and she grimaced. He held her hand until it passed and he saw her features relax. “Please let my baby be okay.”

“Let’s pray,” he suggested.

“I’d like that.”

“Dear Lord,” he began. “We beseech you today to bring this baby into the world safely. Please protect both Lettie and the little one. Let your will be done. In your name, Amen.”

“Thank you.” She squeezed his hand.

A door opened downstairs. “That should be Flynn and Myrtle. I’ll go direct them up here.”

Flynn carried a black medical bag and Myrtle had her arms full of linens.

“I figured you probably wouldn’t have left her side, so we came with extras,” she explained.

“Bless you,” he said gratefully.

“Where is she?” Flynn asked.

“Upstairs, the first room on the left.”

“Do you have any water boiling?”

“Not yet.”

“I’ll check on her. Start the water boiling as many pots as you can.”

He followed Flynn’s directions after he saw the doc and his wife ascend the stairs. The fire under the stove was still warm from this morning and restoring the flames didn’t take much effort. Three pots were all that he could find. He filled each with water and set them to boil. Unable to wait any longer, he bounded up the steps to the bedroom.

Myrtle approached him. “You really shouldn’t be present. It’s not appropriate.” Her voice was loving but firm.

“I don’t care. My wife wants me to stay.”

“Step in the hall with me for a minute.”

Unwilling to cause a scene in front of Lettie, he followed Myrtle. “She asked me not to leave,” he reiterated.

“And I’m sure she meant it at the time. But believe me, I’ve assisted in many births and when the time comes, most women aren’t comfortable with their men present.”

With reluctance, Rand conceded, but only because he trusted Myrtle’s wisdom and experience, which was much more than his own in this matter. “Can you promise me, you’ll get me if she wants me?”

She reached up and cupped his cheek in a motherly gesture. “If she insists, I’ll gladly forsake propriety and allow your presence. In the meantime, you can spend some time in prayer.”

Myrtle gave his cheek a pat, then returned to the bedroom.

Rand didn’t know what to do. At first, he paced back and forth in the hallway, striding from one end to the other. Several times he stopped and put an ear to the bedroom door, hoping to hear of any progress. He walked downstairs and checked on the now-boiling water. Too much had boiled out, so he added more. A movement outside the window caught his eye.

Thyme. He’d forgotten all about her.

Darting a gaze toward the stairs, he hoped to catch a glimpse of someone coming down to give him any news. No such luck. A restless sigh poured out from his chest. He ran a hand through his hair. Why wasn’t anyone coming to tell him anything?

With leaden feet, he walked outside to take care of Thyme. Leading her back to the barn, he stabled and untacked her, then brushed her down. He gave her fresh water and an extra handful of oats to make up for forgetting about her. Not wanting to be away from the house for long, he hurried back, just in time to see Myrtle lifting a pot of hot water from the stove.

“How is she?”

“To be expected.”

“What does that mean?” he growled, inadvertently taking out his frustration on Myrtle.

“Everything is progressing naturally. Shouldn’t be much longer until you’re meeting your son or daughter.”

“But Lettie, she’s okay?”

“She’s fine dear. Doing great.”

“Has she asked for me?” He must sound terribly selfish asking.

“Childbirth requires intense focus.”

Which was her subtle way of telling him Lettie hadn’t asked for him. Against his will, a stab of disappointment pricked his heart, but he willed it away. This was about Lettie and her bringing a healthy baby into this world.

Did all fathers feel this way, waiting for their child’s appearance? He needed fresh air. Going back outside, he took a seat in one of the two rocking chairs. Then he worried Myrtle or Flynn might come down to give a progress report and wouldn’t be able to find him, so he propped the door open with a river stone he kept for on the porch for that purpose.

The normally soothing rocking of the chair did nothing to alleviate his anxiety. Had he previously had even a sliver of doubt about loving Lettie, it was now decimated. Love for her pounded on him, knocking his breath away. All he wanted was to be in the room with her, holding her hand and helping her through this. He twisted his lips. Unfortunately, that wasn’t to be. There was only one thing he could do.

He bowed his head and prayed. When he finished his supplication and opened his eyes, the sky had darkened to hues of deep blues and purples. For the first time since Lettie had called out his name that morning, peace settled over him. He rocked for a few more minutes before returning inside and making coffee. About to take his first sip, he looked up when he heard footsteps on the stairs. He set his cup down and briskly made his way to the stairwell.

Myrtle reached the bottom step, her smile wide and bright. “Would you like to see your wife now?”

“Is the baby here?”

She nodded.

“Is it healthy? Is it a boy or a girl?” The questions spilled out.

“Lettie would like to tell you herself.”

Only a great restraint kept Rand from pushing past Myrtle and bounding up the stairs. After what seemed like minutes, but, in reality, was only seconds, Myrtle turned and went up, leaving him to follow. He paused before entering the bedroom, taking a deep breath, preparing himself to meet his son or daughter. Though not his by blood, he already loved this baby.

Flynn came out of the room, flashing a proud smile toward Rand. He grabbed his wife’s hand and took her downstairs, giving the new parents a private moment.

Rand’s heart beat rapidly in anticipation. He swallowed hard and took a step inside. Lettie was sitting in bed, propped up by several pillows. Damp strands of hair clung to her forehead and temples and dark circles shadowed her eyes. But she was beautiful and glowing. His gaze traveled down and his mouth gaped. He blinked and looked again.

He pointed a finger to the bundled baby in the crook of Lettie’s right arm. Then he pointed to the other bundle in the crook of her left arm.

“There… there are two?” Shocked, he stumbled over his words.

Grinning at him, Lettie invited him over. “Come here, Rand. Meet your son and daughter.”

Tears of joy welled in his eyes. He took the few steps to the bed and sat down by his wife. “Which one is which?”

She lifted her right shoulder. “This one is a boy. Meet Daniel Morgan McCade. I thought we could call him Danny. Would you like to hold him?”

Struck speechless, he nodded and slid a hand under Danny’s neck and the other under his bottom. He lifted the baby and cradled him to his chest. So tiny and small.

With her right arm freed, she moved it so that she cradled the girl with both arms. “And this is Naomi Melanie McCade. I thought we could honor Mellie’s memory as well. If that is fine by you,” she said, a quiver of uncertainty in her voice.

If possible, his heart would have burst. Only dear sweet Lettie would think to include Mellie. “Perfectly fine. They are beautiful,” he murmured, still in awe that he was a father, not just of one, but two, precious little babies. “And so tiny. Did Flynn say they were healthy? What did he say about them arriving early?” Paternal concerns hit him with a gale force strength.

“He gave them a clean bill of health. They are breathing great on their own and showing proper responses. He said that often times, twins do arrive early.”

Leaning over, he dusted her cheek with a chaste kiss. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.”
I love you,
he inserted, inaudibly.