she heard the wagon pull away from the house, she dropped onto the chair by the hearth. “What a mess you’ve gotten yourself into, Rena Livingston.” As the words left her lips, she realized she was Rena Braden now.
Nothing of her former self remained. Eugene Rodgers had left her with a child and taken everything else from her. Not even her father recognized who she had become.
Being secretly engaged to a man who’d traveled the country had been thrilling. At first. She’d gone from excitement to shame and finally to disbelief and dread when Eugene had left. Wallowing in self-pity hadn’t helped. She’d had no choice but to move forward. One day at a time. One step at a time.
Lord, give me strength.
She forced herself out of the chair and explored the house. By the time Scott returned, she had ham frying on the stove and the table cleaned and set for a modest supper.
Scott took off his hat and hung it on a peg by the door. “That smells nice.”
“It’s the best I could do for tonight.” She cracked eggs into a bowl and whisked them with a fork. “We’ll need to go into town for some supplies, unless you have an arrangement with a neighbor for milk and butter. It will make cooking easier.”
He hung his jacket by the hat. “No arrangement with the neighbors. I sold my cow to the Hendersons after Ann left. There wasn’t a need to keep her for one person. I do most of my eatin’ in town.”
She poured the eggs into the frying pan where the bacon drippings she’d found in a jar on a shelf above the stove sizzled. “I’ll need milk for cooking.” She cleared her throat, hating to ask for something else on a day when he’d done so much. “And for me to drink.”
He nodded. “For the baby?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll buy a cow tomorrow.”
Rena scooped the eggs onto plates and set them on the table. “It’s ready. I’m sorry there isn’t more to it.”
Scott joined her at the table. “Don’t apologize. It’s more than I’d have made for myself tonight.”
He sat opposite her and reached out a hand for prayer. Her father had always insisted that they hold hands while he blessed the food—even during the years she’d refused to attend services with him. This was different. Scott was a man of faith who practiced his beliefs in his home, but he was also her husband. Only in name, but still her husband.
Why then did she not want to reach across the table? She wouldn’t explore the possibility that it was a matter of trust. Her father had been her protector. Could she grow to trust Scott in time?
Scott wasn’t unfamiliar. He was often in her father’s home. But they didn’t interact more than the necessary pleasantries. She’d cooked the meals, and he’d sat across from her. The wide table had prevented them from holding hands while offering thanks for their food as he’d sat next to her father. The table here in his home was smaller. It was expected. And he waited.
She took a deep breath and dropped her hand into his. His grip was gentle, and his words sincere, as he offered thanks for their meal and for her efforts to prepare it. The next words stung her heart.
“And, Lord, please help us to make the best of this marriage. I know neither one of us saw it coming, but You take care of Your children. I’m asking You to take care of us. Amen.”
He released her hand and reached for the platter of ham.
She slid her hand to her lap. Heat spilled into her cheeks. No one had ever prayed for her except Momma and Papa.
Scott passed the ham to her. “I guess we need to talk about how we’re going to do this.”
Rena nodded and took the platter from him.
“You saw Ann’s room?” He pointed to the door in the front corner of the main room.
“I did. I took a few minutes to look around while you were in the barn.” She spooned eggs onto her plate. Her appetite hadn’t been much for the last few weeks. The baby needed her to eat, so she’d try again.
“I think it will serve you well. There’s enough space for a cradle.” He speared a bite of ham. “I hope you don’t think me too familiar to speak of such things.”
“No. There are things that must be done.” She pushed the eggs around on her plate. “Though the need for a cradle will be months away from now.”
“Can you tell me how long?” His lowered voice, and the fact that he kept his eyes on his plate let her know that he was possibly as uncomfortable with this topic as she was.
“The baby should arrive near the beginning of August.”
He looked up then. “I’ll get started on the cradle this month. I want to finish it before spring. There’ll be planting and such to do then.”
“I could see if Papa will buy one. It doesn’t seem right for you to have to build it.” It was her turn to look away. “I’m certain he’d be willing to buy the cow, too.”
“I won’t be needing any help taking care of you or the baby.” Scott set his fork down. “I know we made this decision quickly today, but be assured I considered everything I could think of before we were married. A man doesn’t let another man provide for his family.”
She’d hurt his feelings. His pride. “I meant no disrespect.”
He folded his napkin and slid his chair back. “None taken.” He took his dishes to the cabinet against the side wall of the cabin. He poured the water she had heated on the stove into the basin and slid in his dishes.
Rena jumped to her feet when she saw his intent. “I’ll do the dishes, Sheriff.” She tried to elbow him from in front of the basin.
He looked down at her, and she realized how close they were. Standing here, side by side, in their home was too familiar. She backed away and ran her palms down the front of the apron she’d found on a peg near the stove.
“Please let me do the washing up.” She wasn’t one to beg. It went against her nature. Nor was she one to accept charity. If she didn’t work, she’d feel like his actions toward her were borne of pity.
“Okay.” Scott dropped the cloth into the sudsy water and stepped back from the cabinet. “Do you think you could call me Scott? If we’re going to make this marriage appear real to the people in town, we’re gonna have to practice being nice to one another.”
“I’ll try.” She picked up the cloth and wiped the first dish. “There’s an awful lot of new things to adjust to.”
“We can do it. It’ll take time, but we’ll work it out.” He went to the back door. “I’ll bring in more wood while you do that. Then we can sit in front of the fire and finish our conversation.”
He was out the door in a swift motion. She could hear him splitting logs while she cleaned the kitchen. It seemed they had one trait in common. They busied themselves with work when they were uncomfortable.
The circumstances
