Bartered Bride Romance Collection (74 page)

A familiar twinge of fear prickled in her heart. “Oh God, don’t let—” She started, then stopped, shaking her head. “For God has not given me a spirit of fear, but of power, and love, and a sound mind,” she said aloud. “Thank You God. I praise You for Your Word that gives me strength. Your word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.”

She smiled as the child moved again. “I know, little one. I feel His peace, too.” Funny how she had known all these scriptures since she was a small child and yet never realized the power that she possessed as a child of God. It was amazing, really.

She picked up the letters from Mama and Aunt Caroline. James had brought them home from town yesterday, presenting them to her with a smile. “You must be missed,” he had said.

Her cheeks grew warm now as she recalled the tender way he had taken her into his arms. It seemed that he had begun to do that more and more often, she mused. Not that she minded, really, but he made it awfully hard to say aloof. Especially when he looked at her with such tender expression in his eyes. She dared not call this feeling “love,” but then what else?

She turned back to the letters with a sigh, rereading each one. Apparently, that rascal Aunt Caroline wasn’t the least bit repentant of her shenanigans. Abby thought of the elderly woman and smiled. It was so good to hear from her family. Yet she didn’t yearn for home as she expected she would. Had she truly found a home of her own with James?

Her heart warmed as her gaze fell on the cradle. James had brought it home in the back of the wagon, covered carefully with an old quilt.

“I thought we might be needing this soon,” he had said, presenting the gift to her almost shyly.

Abby ran her fingertips over the glossy oak. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. There were even little heart cutouts in the headboard and a lovely white satin blanket. “You shouldn’t have spent so much money,” she said, fingering the coverlet.

He chuckled, the sound making her heart sing. “I’m not very good at working with wood, Abby. If I made the cradle, the poor child would probably have fallen through the bottom the first time you laid him in it!”

She laughed then succumbed to the impulse to run her fingers through his light hair. “I never heard of a farmer who wasn’t handy with a hammer,” she teased gently.

He smiled down at her, the merriment in his eyes fading into a different emotion. Pulling her to him, he wrapped his arms around her carefully. She leaned against him, reveling in his closeness.

“You must know that I love you, Abby,” he whispered into her hair.

She stood still. Did she know that? She thought of him. Thought of all the little things that made up James Parrish. His attentiveness. His gentleness. The way he prayed for her and the baby, his handsome head bowed.

Yes, she knew that he loved her. Even more, she knew that she loved him. And yet, there was the problem. She couldn’t love him, or anyone. She had promised.

She sighed now as she dumped the chopped rhubarb into the pastry-lined tin.
It won’t help to keep going over and over it
, she told herself sternly. She had made a vow to God, and she intended to keep it.

Abby gathered up the large leaves she had cut off the tops of the rhubarb stalks. If she chopped them and fried them with a little bacon grease, she could serve the greens with the salt pork and boiled potatoes she was planning for supper. Feeling rather pleased with herself, she got out her sharpest knife.

“I’m as hungry as a bear,” James said from outside the back door.

She could hear him scraping the mud off his boots, and smiled. She would have liked to have met his mama and thanked her for raising such a thoughtful son.

“I’m glad you’re hungry, because supper is on the table.” She couldn’t help smiling at him as he clumped through the door and rewarded her with a kiss on the tip of her nose.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said, grinning at her. “When’s that baby ever going to come? He should have been here two weeks ago!”

She blew out a good-natured sigh. “You weren’t supposed to ask me again, remember?”

He poured water into the basin and plunged his hands into it, scrubbing vigorously. “A man can’t help wondering, you know.”

Abby smiled behind his back. “I heard my aunt Caroline tell many an anxious woman, ‘The pear will fall when it’s ripe.’ ”

He laughed aloud. “Sounds like your aunt Caroline’s a pretty wise gal.”

“She sent me to you, didn’t she?” Abby could have bitten her tongue the minute the words were out of her mouth. Now he would think that she … oh dear. There he was looking at her like that again and …

The kiss was slow and sweet. Abby thought maybe she had gone to heaven … except that there wasn’t any smoke in heaven, was there? Smoke? “Oh no! My pie!” She pulled out of his arms and rushed to yank open the oven door.

As she thumped the pie onto the sideboard, relieved to see it still intact, James peered over her shoulder.

“Some of the juice ran over,” she mumbled, waving the smoke away with her apron.

James grinned at her sheepishly. “Seems I ought to be praising God for Aunt Caroline.”

“What? Oh.” She felt her face get red. Was he trying to torment her? She shouldn’t have let him kiss her, and he knew it. “Supper’s getting cold,” she said tartly. She pulled out her own chair without waiting for him and sank into it.

James leaned back in his chair, trying in vain to hold back a snicker. He shouldn’t tease Abby so much, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. He loved the way she got all flustered and pink-cheeked.

She sent him a mock glare over the table, and he obediently closed his eyes to offer the blessing. He had scarcely said “amen” before she was up and bustling around again.

“Come sit down with me, woman!” he ordered playfully.

She ignored him, busily dipping lemonade into their stoneware mugs. James sighed and turned his attention to the meal. Everything smelled so good. He took an enormous helping of greens, wondering where she had gotten them this time of year. He thought that she had already harvested all the turnips and collard greens.

She dropped heavily into the chair across from him, wiping her forehead with her apron. “Sure is hot for September, isn’t it?”

“Mm hmm,” he said, his mouth full of potatoes. He took a sip of lemonade. “Fine supper you cooked, Mrs. Parrish.”

She grinned at him, the weariness momentarily lifting from her brow. “My mama taught me right, I guess.” She watched as he savored a mouthful of greens, her eyes widening when he grimaced.

Good grief! Where did she get these nasty things?
It was all he could do not to spit them out on his plate.

“Is something wrong?” Her face was troubled.

He coughed into his napkin then hastily gulped some lemonade. “Just took a bite of something bitter,” he said mildly.

She frowned, tasting a bit from her own plate. Her eyes watered. “You needn’t have been so polite, James. They’re downright inedible.”

He tried not to laugh at the misery on her face. “It’s not the end of the world, love. Where did you find these, anyway?”

She made a face. “Well, I wanted to surprise you, so I made a rhubarb pie and—what?”

He closed his eyes briefly then glanced at her. “Abby, rhubarb leaves are poisonous.”

“What? Oh, no, James! I didn’t know—”

He reached across the table to capture her shaking hands in his own. “It’s all right. Neither one of us ate enough to have any effect.”

“How could I have been so stupid?”

His thumbs stroked the backs of her hands soothingly. “I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.”

She sniffed. “I hope you don’t think I was trying to k–kill you.” A giggle slipped out with the last word, as the humor of the situation struck her. “I can just see the
Denver Post
headlines now: New B
ride
K
ills
H
usband
WITH M
ess
OF G
reens.”

James let loose with the guffaw he had been suppressing. Soon they were howling together, tears streaming down Abby’s face. James took a drink, trying to regain a modicum of control but nearly choked on the liquid when Abby started giggling again.

Finally, they turned their attentions to the cold potatoes and pork, trying not to look at each other, lest they start again. Abby reached for the salt cellar, accidentally bumping James’s hand. Their eyes met, which only started James off again with a snort. Abby got tickled all over again, her breath coming in short gasps.

“Stop laughing, James,” she said between giggles. “I can’t breathe!”

He raised his eyebrows. “Maybe you should take some of these greens to the next church social. Sure would liven things up a bit.”

She made a face at him. “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone about them.”

“Who said I would tell anyone? We could just put them out on the table and let them speak for them—What’s wrong?”

She giggled again. “Nothing. I just thought I felt—” Her eyes widened, and she grasped her middle.

James felt his mouth go dry. “Is it time?”

She nodded. “I think so. It must have been those greens.”

How could she joke at a time like this? He scraped his chair back and rushed around the table to her. “Shouldn’t you lie down?”

She smiled up at him, and his heart turned over. “I think it will be awhile yet, sweet—James.” Her face flushed as she caught herself, yet she didn’t break eye contact with him.

He stroked her smooth cheek with the back of his fingers. Had she really started to say what he thought she did? Could it be that she was beginning to feel for him even a small bit of what he felt for her?
God, please let it be so!

“What can I do for you, love?” he whispered. He would never admit this to her, but he was scared stiff at the thought of losing her in childbirth.
God, please help me…
.

She leaned her head into his hand. “Just to know that you’re here is enough,

James.”

Abby’s predictions proved true. Hours had passed since she felt her first labor pains. James had been almost frantic at first, but he regained his composure as he realized that the birth was not imminent. He had sat next to her throughout the long evening, marveling at the way her stomach would become rock-hard with each contraction. Easy and relatively pain-free at first, they were now becoming harder. More painful. Much more frequent.

“I think it’s time to get Ada,” Abby murmured.

James stirred from his dozing in the chair next to hers. “What, love?”

“I think you’d better get Ada now,” she said, grimacing.
Whew. That one was the hardest yet
.

James clapped his hat on his head then bent to kiss her tenderly. “Shall I help you into the bed before I go?”

She nodded, fighting back the urge to pant. She didn’t want to alarm James, but she was beginning to think that the baby would be here sooner than she had anticipated.

“Hurry, please,” she whispered as the door slammed behind him. Why, oh why hadn’t she let him fetch the midwife when he wanted to an hour ago? Weeks before, Abby had decided that she’d rather have their neighbor, Ada McReady, as a midwife than a doctor from Denver City. Ada had assured Abby that she had delivered plenty of babies in her fifty years. And it was nice that she lived so close. Abby had met her a time or two in town, and Ada’s husband, Andy, had dropped by with a loaf of her friendship bread when Abby and James had first wed. She was a sweet woman, and at this moment, Abby hoped she was also a speedy woman.

She lay back against the pillow, fighting back the tears. She hadn’t realized it would hurt so badly. She tried to pray, but it seemed no words would form in her mind.

She felt like her insides were ripping, the pain and pressure increasing with each contraction. Where were James and Ada?

She felt the familiar blackness of fear beginning to creep at the edges of her mind. What if something was wrong? What if the baby was stuck? What if something happened to her child? All the fear that had been held at bay during the last few weeks of peace came flooding over her.

The pain tore at her, making her cry out. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, trying to think. She should pray…. She should quote some Scriptures…. “Jesus!” She screamed the name in prayer, unable to think of anything else.

Immediately the darkness vanished from her mind and calmness descended on her spirit. “Jesus,” she whispered. He was there. She could feel the presence of God with her, as strongly as if another human being stood next to her holding her hand. He was God and He loved her. He would not abandon her.

Another wave of pain pulled downward on her body. She gritted her teeth.

“ ‘The Lord is my light and my salvation. Whom … shall … I … fear …?’

“ ‘He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall … abide … under the shadow … of the Almighty.’

“ ‘The Lord is … my … strength …’ ”

She opened her eyes to see James beside her, his strong voice repeating the words with her. He took her hands and held them tightly between his own. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispered.

She smiled at him as Ada moved the quilts to check her. “He heard me, James,” she whispered. “Jesus … He heard me.”