Their Frontier Family. Lyn Cote
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Dawn had lain down for her long afternoon nap so Sunny had come with empty arms here—to make a decision that would change both their lives forever. Should she accept Noah’s proposal? The thought of marrying chilled her, robbing her of breath.
She couldn’t think why he would want to marry her. Why any man would want to marry her.
She opened the double door and stepped inside. There in the middle of the Quaker meetinghouse on two benches facing each other sat Eve and Solomon Love, and Noah Whitmore, the man who had said in front of everybody that he thought she would make a good wife.
Fresh shock tingled through her. His thrilling words slid from her mind into her heart and left her quaking. What do I know about being a wife?
Sunny tried to conceal her trembling, the trembling that had begun this morning. She walked as calmly as she could manage toward the bench where Noah sat. Without looking directly at him, she lowered herself onto the same bench as he.
Sitting so near him stirred her—and that alarmed her. She had never felt attraction to any man. Was Noah’s recent kindness to her the cause? She faced the Loves, who had been good enough to speak to her since she’d come here. Very few of the Quakers—or Friends, as they called themselves—had made the effort to get to know her. They’d been kind but distant. She couldn’t blame them for avoiding her. They were holy, she was stained.
Eve smiled at her and, reaching across the divide, patted her hand. “Sunny, thee does not know about the clearness meeting. It is how Friends try to clear their thinking and make sure that they are within God’s will.”
Unsure of what she should say, Sunny merely nodded. She concealed her left hand in the folds of her gray skirt. In the hours since this morning she’d chafed the flesh beneath one thumb from fretting, a childhood habit. She’d been forbidden to suck her thumb or chew her nails, so when upset, she’d taken to scratching, worrying at her hand. She resisted the need to do it now.
“Noah,” Solomon asked, “please tell us again what thy plans are and why they include Sunny.”
“I have staked a claim on a homestead in western Wisconsin. Very near the Mississippi River.” Noah’s words were clipped. “Planting time is near. I need to return as soon as possible.”
Sunny’s emotions erupted—fear, worry and hope roiled inside her at Noah’s words.
“That sounds as if thee is committed to leaving us for good.” Solomon’s voice was measured and without judgment.
Noah nodded.
“Why have thee chosen to ask Sunny to be thy bride and go with thee?” Eve asked.
Sunny nearly stopped breathing. Her throat muscles clenched with fear.
Noah propped his elbows on his knees and leaned forward as if thinking.
Many questions tumbled through her thoughts, but she could not make her mouth move. Was Noah asking out of pity? Was she in a position to say no to him even if it was? The memory of the man who had inappropriately touched her several days ago slithered through her again, as if he were here leering at her. Dear God, no more.
In spite of her inner upheaval, Sunny made herself sit very still as silence pressed in on all of them. She drew in a normal breath. Yes, she could refuse this proposal, but she had Dawn to think of. Would life with Noah be better for Dawn than life alone with her mother? Would he be a loving stepfather for Dawn?
“Noah?” Eve prompted.
“How does a man choose a wife?” Noah asked in return. “I need a wife and want one. I only know that Sunny has attracted my attention from the first time she came to meetings. I’ve watched her with her little girl. She seems sweet and kind.”
It seemed to be a day for Sunny to be stunned. No one—no one—had ever praised her like this. A melting sensation went through her and she wished that the backless bench would give her more support. She tightened her posture.
“That is a very clear reply,” Solomon said.
“Sunny, is thee ready to take a husband?” Eve asked.
Sunny swallowed, thinking of how he’d praised her. “I am.” She paused, then honesty forced her to bring up the topic she did not want to discuss. “I have a past.”
Noah gave a swift, stark laugh. “I have a past, too.”
“It is good to be honest with one another,” Solomon said, tempering the emotions with a glance.
“I have a daughter,” Sunny said, each word costing her. She pleated her plain gray cotton skirt.
“I know, and I’m willing to take responsibility for her,” Noah said, glancing toward her.
Sunny measured his tone. He sounded sincere. Nonetheless she had overheard a few words about his own family. And she must speak for her child. “Your father has been known to show temper.”
“I’m nothing like my father,” Noah said as if stung.
Sunny absorbed this reaction. The bad blood between the two had been plain to see even in her short time here. Maybe not getting along with his own father would make him a more considerate parent, could that be?
“I’m sorry I spoke in that tone to thee,” Noah apologized. “I promise I will provide for your daughter, and I will protect her. I’ll try to be a good father.”
Noah had just promised Dawn more than Sunny’s own unknown father had ever done for her. She nodded, still hesitant. “I...I believe you.”
“I have watched thee all my life, Noah,” Eve said. “And thee has not had an easy time. Losing thy mother so young, that was hard. And thy broken engagement when thee went off to war. But thee cannot change the past by merely moving to a new place.”
Sunny wished Eve would explain more. Who had Noah loved and been rejected by?
Noah sat up straight again. “I know that. But I cannot feel easy here. My father doesn’t need me. My five brothers are more than enough to help him.” Though he tried to hide it, hurt oozed out with each word.
“Thy father loves thee,” Solomon said. “But that does not mean that a father and son will not disagree.”
Noah’s expression hardened.
Sunny sensed his abrupt withdrawal. Noah Whitmore had been kind to her in public, protected her, something hardly anybody had ever done for her. He’d asked her to marry him and said she was sweet and kind. He offered her marriage and protection for Dawn. But could he love her?
How could she ask that? Did she even deserve a man’s love?
She touched his sleeve. He turned toward her. When she looked into his eyes, she fell headlong into a bottomless well of pain, sadness and isolation. Shaken, she pulled back her hand and lowered her gaze, feeling his piercing emotions as her own. What had caused his deep suffering? She had met other veterans. Was this just the war or something more?
What had happened to