Chapter 26

26

L orinda sat on the porch, one toe on the floor gently rocking the swing. Mrs. Oleson had Michael in his high chair banging a couple of spoons on the tray while she cooked supper. Lorinda wondered how the older woman could put up with all that noise. It was driving her crazy.

She stared across the large valley at the majestic mountaintops as the sun made its swift descent toward the horizon. Fluffy puffs of clouds rode the gentle breeze as the disappearing sun painted their sides in soft shades of pink, lavender, and peachy orange. The lower the light sank, the deeper the hues splashed across the clouds until dark red, deep purple, and wild orange streaked across the sky. This tranquil time of day was her favorite...except for today.

Where is Franklin?

After the first day he was gone, her anger turned into longing. She missed his presence that filled the house when he came in at the end of the day. The scent of heat, horse, and hard work that accompanied him had quickly become her favorite fragrance. Without him, the house felt cold and empty. And while she missed his presence, her memory returned to their wedding day and that...amazing...kiss. The taste…the feel of his lips, alive on hers...coaxing her to participate...the way it had?—

With a shake of her head, she tried to shove the thoughts away, but she couldn't. Would she ever experience something as exquisite as that again? Not a chance. How sad.

Mrs. Oleson told her Franklin should arrive back from the cattle drive today. When some of the ranch hands rode in earlier, her heart leapt within her. Disappointment gripped her when she realized her husband wasn't with them. She didn't want to ask them where he was, because as his wife, she should know. Surely, one of them would tell her and Mrs. Oleson if anything bad had happened to him.

She hated knowing they hadn't parted on good terms. She needed to apologize for the way she treated him. The hurt in his eyes when she accused him of endangering Michael still lingered in her mind. Hurt that was almost as strong as the hurts she'd experienced growing up. She had never wanted to cause that kind of pain for anyone. Especially her husband.

The sun said goodbye to their valley, and it left a golden rim on each mountaintop. As her gaze followed the thin line of light, her ears detected the hoof beats of a lone rider approaching. In the familiar semidarkness of the gloaming, she strained to see if it was her husband. From the way the shadowy figure rode in the saddle and leaning slightly forward, his Stetson tilted just so, she knew. Franklin would be here in a few minutes. Tears of joy trailed down her cheeks.

She rushed inside the house and into her bedroom, swiping the moisture away. After lighting the lamp, she stared at her reflection in the looking glass. She brushed a few stray hairs back and quickly slid in a hairpin to hold them into place. Giving her cheeks a few soft pinches, she brought color to her face. After rolling her lips together several times, they glowed with life. So did her eyes.

Lorinda arrived back on the front porch right before Franklin leapt from his saddle beside the gate. He dropped the reins to the ground, then looked toward the porch. Even in the low light, she saw his smile and his eyes light up as he continued to stare at her a moment before he opened the gate. Her heartbeat felt like a woodpecker pounding a rhythm on the trunk of a tree. Fireflies danced in her stomach.

Was Lorinda waiting just for him? He hoped so. That would be a good sign .

He turned back to take one of the packages from his saddlebag. He'd slip the other into the house later when she was busy. He loped up the walkway to the porch, drinking in the sight of her. Blonde curls piled on the top of her head, and her blue eyes matched the sky that had darkened before he could reach home.

He had to be especially blessed married to a woman like her. And he had done her wrong. Promising what he had no plans to fulfill. How long would it take him to undo the damage? Or could he ever?

"I was wondering if you would get home today." Her voice brought music to his heart.

"Were you worried about me?"

He went up all but the last step to the porch, ending with them face to face. He wondered if she would move back, since they were so close. But she didn't. The soft flowery scent of her surrounded him, and he breathed deeply of the fragrance.

Lorinda turned her gaze out across the ranch land. "Maybe a little...when the ranch hands came home and you weren't with them."

He took another step, so close his breath mingled with hers. "I'm sorry. I didn't think about you being worried."

Franklin wished he could close the short distance and taste her lips again, but he didn't dare. He would do nothing to scare her away. He tightened his stomach muscles and stepped up on the porch, but not crowding her.

She glanced up at him. "I need to apologize to you, too."

"What for?"

Clasping her hands close to her chest, she looked nervous. "I didn't understand what you were doing with Michael." She started wringing her hands. "Mrs. Oleson explained that fathers often played with their babies that way. I didn't know." Her last words were just a whisper.

A smile crept over his face. Maybe it wouldn't be as hard as he thought to woo her into becoming his wife in every way. "I promise you, Lorinda. I would never do anything that would put Michael, or you, in danger. Never."

Her hands slid down the front of her skirt, straightening imaginary wrinkles. "I believe you, Franklin."

Her words made him feel about ten feet tall. He glanced down at the package he held. "Let's go in where there's more light. I brought you a present."

"Why?" Her brow creased as if she was confused.

"No special reason." He opened the door then took her hand and pulled her along with him as they entered the house.

A warm glow came from the parlor. He hadn't noticed light coming from the windows when he rode up. Mrs. Oleson must have heard them and lit the three kerosene lamps that filled the room with a welcome radiance.

Lorinda stopped after he led her into the parlor. "I've never had a present for no reason."

His heart ached for what she must have gone through while she was growing up. Maybe someday she'd share it all with him, so he could help her make new memories and erase those bad ones. He didn't want to try to imagine what had happened to her. His free hand clenched into a fist. Not wanting to scare her, he flexed the fingers open.

"Sit down, Lorinda, so you can see what I brought you."

She looked like a child at a birthday party. Her wide smile brought a twinkle to her eyes. She started carefully untying the twine, but when she had a hard time, she slipped it around the corners and threw it on the floor. As she peeled back the white wrapping paper, a happy sound sighed between her lips.

Cradling the piano in her hands held close to her chest, she gazed up at him with a wonderful expression he'd never before seen on her face. "What is it, Franklin?"

How could she not know? "It's a music box shaped like a grand piano."

He reached for it and turned the key on the bottom before resting it back in her hands.

She closed her eyes and swayed to the beat of the music. He loved watching her like this. When the instrument stopped playing, she twisted the key herself.

While the music played again, she gazed into his eyes. "This is the most wonderful thing anyone has ever given me. Thank you, Franklin."

When the song ended, she set the instrument on the table beside the lamp and rose gracefully. Her arms crept around his waist, and she rested her head against his chest, right above his heart. He wondered if she could hear his heartbeat galloping. All he could do was fold his own arms around her and revel in the feeling of his wife in his arms again, glad he'd taken time in town to go to the bathhouse and barber to get a shave and change into clean clothes. She wouldn't have wanted to touch him if he was covered with the filth of trail dust, sweat, and a scraggly beard.

When Lorinda impulsively threw her arms around Franklin and leaned against his chest, she didn't expect him to put his arms around her, but she liked it. Too much .

She lingered as long as she dared, enjoying the warmth, the rock-hard muscles, and the familiar scent of fresh Bay Rum Oil. As she released her arms and slipped back away from him, he let her go. How she wished he would gather her once again into his embrace. A sigh slipped out between her lips.

"Are you all right?"

His tender tone brought tears to her eyes. She turned away to hide them. "Yes. I believe Mrs. Oleson should have our supper ready."

Franklin followed closely behind her as she led the way into the kitchen. She felt his every move.

"There's my boy." When the first word left Franklin's mouth, Michael dropped both spoons and lifted his arms toward him, jabbering away in his own baby language.

Lorinda smiled as her husband lifted her son from his high chair and cuddled him against his chest. Just where she'd placed her face minutes before. Michael stayed there only a moment before lifting his head and reaching to pat Franklin on his cheeks.

"Hey, buddy." Her husband's words rumbled through the room. "I missed you, too."

"Welcome back, Franklin." Mrs. Oleson dried her hands on the towel tucked into the waistband of her apron.

"Something sure smells good."

"Supper's not quite ready." The housekeeper took the lid off the large frying pan, then used a fork to start turning pieces of chicken. "Won't be long though."

Franklin turned to Lorinda. "How about I take this boy out to the barn while I put up Major?"

All Lorinda could do was nod and watch them head back up the hallway toward the front door. She knew what would happen. Franklin would hold Michael while he rode the horse into the barn. Those two really enjoyed spending time together.

Mrs. Oleson turned back toward the stove. She opened the oven to remove the biscuits that had risen tall and golden brown, filling the kitchen with another aroma to blend with the chicken. "I told you he'd be home today, but he was later than I thought he'd be." She bustled around putting the finishing touches on Franklin's favorite meal. "I'm surprised he already bathed, shaved, and changed clothes before he came home. He always comes straight from a cattle drive–dirty, smelly, and wrinkled. I guess being married has changed him in more ways than one."

Lorinda started setting the table, keeping her head turned. She didn't want the woman to see the blush making its way up her cheeks.

Yes, there were ways Franklin had changed, but they weren't due to her or their relationship, because there wasn't one. Could she really live this lie for the rest of her life? Everything within her rebelled at the thought.

Lorinda hurried from the kitchen before she could blurt out the truth. This had to stop.

Somehow.