Wolf Creek Wedding Page 14

  “Mamamamama,” she said, holding out her arms.

  Her sweet entreaty dissolved the lingering traces of Abby’s anger. “Hey there, little girl,” she cooed. “Do you need a dry diaper?”

  She did. Abby carried her into the bedroom, changed her and spent the next several minutes playing peekaboo and blowing air bubbles against Laura’s bare tummy, which sent the little one into gales of giggles. Every time she stopped, Laura lifted the hem of her dress for Abby to do it again.

  “What’s Laura laughing about?” Ben said from the doorway.

  “I’m blowing on her belly, and she loves it, and so did you when you were a baby.”

  “Let me try,” Ben said with a wide grin. As soon as he took Abby’s place, Laura began to fuss and try to get away from him, doing her best to roll over onto her stomach and crawl away.

  “I guess she’s tired of that game,” Abby said. “Or she doesn’t like you doing it.”

  Ben’s bottom lip stuck out in a pout.

  “No sulking, young man,” she ordered, riffling his hair with her fingers. She set Laura on the floor, where she clung to the quilt hanging over the edge of the bed and took off around its corner.

  “She’s probably getting sleepy. It’s about time for her morning nap.” Injecting what she hoped was nonchalance into her tone, she asked, “Where’s Caleb?”

  “In his office. He said he had some figures to go over, and then he might teach me how to play dominoes.”

  “Oh.” Abby felt her eyebrows lift in surprise. First Caleb offered to help with the milking, and then insisted on teaching Ben how to hunt, and now he planned on giving her son a lesson in dominoes. What was going on? Could Caleb’s sudden interest in Ben be God’s way of answering her prayers?

  “Did he teach you about the rifle?”

  “It’s a shotgun, Mom,” Ben said in a self-important tone. “There is a difference.”

  “Oh. I wasn’t aware of that.”

  “Well, there is. Shotguns are described by ‘gauge’ and rifles by ‘caliber.’ There’s a lot of other stuff I don’t understand yet about how many lead balls are in a shell—they’re real small for birds—but Caleb says it won’t take me long to learn. He showed me how to load it and everything, and he says I should always have it on ‘safe,’ never to point it at anyone and don’t put my finger on the trigger until I’m ready to shoot.”

  Abby had to admit she was impressed with what Ben had learned in such a short time and the care Caleb was taking with his teaching.

  “He said we’d practice when it dries up some.”

  “That sounds...nice,” she said.

  “I’m tired of all my toys,” Ben said, leaning against her in an increasingly rare show of dependence.

  “Well,” she said, smoothing his hair, “I suppose you could read Swiss Family Robinson until Caleb finishes, or you can come and scrape carrots for a stew I’m going to make.”

  “Do you mean you’re actually going to let him use a sharp knife?”

  The irony-laced question brought up Abby’s head. Caleb stood in the doorway, hands braced over his head on either side, regarding her with the merest hint of a mockery lighting his eyes. He was so tall and his shoulders were so broad...and he looked so steady and safe somehow. And you, Abigail Gentry, are in deep, deep trouble.

  She pressed her lips together in a prim line. Why, he was actually baiting her! She’d encouraged him to loosen up, but she hadn’t meant for him to find his pleasure in mocking her. Or had she? Abby let out a slow breath and took a firm grasp on her temper.

  “I believe he’ll be fine with adult supervision,” she said in her best schoolmarm voice.

  “I believe you’re right,” he said with equal stuffiness.

  “Dadadada!”

  Laura had spied him in the doorway and let go of the quilt. To Abby’s surprise, she reached out with her chubby hands and took two toddling steps toward him and stood there, swaying like a drunk on Saturday night. When she realized what she was doing, her smile faded.

  More to Abby’s surprise, Caleb squatted down, holding out his arms to her. “Come on, baby girl,” he said, motioning for her to keep coming. “Come see Daddy.”

  The encouragement was all Laura needed. Abby watched in stunned bemusement as, with her solemn expression mirroring the concentration of Caleb’s, Laura took another tottering step and then two more before losing her balance a scant yard from him and plopping onto her bottom. She promptly burst into tears while Abby fought back tears of her own.

  An instant later, Caleb had scooped her up into his arms and was planting quick, light kisses on her chubby, tear-streaked cheeks, crooning to her that it was all right, that she was a really big girl, and she’d done a good job. Laura stopped crying and nestled her face against his shoulder.

  Caleb’s wide-eyed gaze sought Abby’s. “She’s walking!” Then, seeing the shimmer of tears in her eyes, he said, “I’m sorry.” The stiffness was back in his tone.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for,” she said, wiping her damp cheeks with her fingertips.

  “But her first steps were to me, not you.”

  “No, it’s fine. Really.”

  He seemed to be thinking over the past few moments to try to figure out what else might have caused her tears. “I’m sorry,” he said again, his eyes dark with contrition. “I called myself Daddy.”

  “But you are,” Abby told him. “You are her father. For the rest of her life.”

  “Then what is it?” he demanded. “Why are you crying?”

  She sniffed back more tears. “Because it is very clear to me that whether or not you know it, whether or not you like it, she loves you and you love her.”

  Caleb shifted from one foot to the other, uncomfortable with the thought of love. “She’s an easy child to be with.”

  The answer wasn’t what Abby hoped for, but she should have known better than for him to admit to loving anything or anyone, at least not so soon. She had never doubted that God would respond in some way to her prayer, but she had not known what form His answers would take. What she had just witnessed between her daughter and her new husband was an amazing step in the right direction.

  Chapter Nine

  As expected, the Stones issued their usual Thanksgiving invitation, this time via Caleb when he went into town for oats. There had been no major problems the past few days, and he and Abby went about each day much as they had the one before, which made the decision of when to approach her about the invitation much easier. He would wait until after their evening Bible study and the children were in bed, since he was uncertain how the conversation might go. Instead of spending Bible time in his office pouring over bookwork, he decided to read his new farming journal in the parlor.

  They were studying the parable of the seeds. Caleb admired how Abby not only related the different soils with the conditions of peoples’ hearts but also how she wove it into their own planting of crops in the upcoming spring. Caleb tried to focus on the pages of the magazine but couldn’t keep his gaze from straying to her any more than he could keep from remembering the way her lips felt beneath his. Several times during the lesson, she looked up and caught him watching her. To his surprise, she looked uncomfortable with his presence, but was trying her best not to let it show.

  He wondered at the new demeanor, one he’d seen more and more often lately. She’d seldom been this uneasy with him. In fact, he didn’t think she had been since those early days, and it wasn’t like her. He liked the fiery Abby who talked back, who challenged everything about him from his attitudes to how he expressed himself. He liked the gentle Abby, too. The one who patiently explained things to Ben, who sang to Betsy and Laura and smiled at him when he stepped through the kitchen door at night. He didn’t like the wariness or the fact that ever since he’d kissed her, s
he’d seemed...

  The kiss! She’d been acting funny ever since he’d kissed her. Caleb considered his own actions. If his goal was to hold Abby at arm’s length as he had Emily, he’d done a bang-up job—except for the kiss.

  A sudden thought held him stock-still. He and Emily had liked each other well enough when they married, but that relationship had deteriorated through the years until they might as well have been strangers living beneath the same roof. Was it possible that his detachment and cool behavior toward her lay at the root of their inability to connect in any meaningful way, or had his behavior come about because of her own standoffishness? He supposed he would never know.

  What he did know was that he had no idea of how to be tender, how to accept or demonstrate simple acts of kindness, something that had hit home when his neighbors had come with condolences after Emily’s death. He had no idea how to love or be loved. Lucas had done a remarkable job of teaching him and Gabe that any show of gentleness made you less a man. For the first time in his life, Caleb wondered if his dad had always so inflexible, or if the high walls around Lucas’s heart had been erected after his wife’s desertion.

  Another thing Caleb would never know.

  Caleb faced the fact that despite his determination to keep his heart free from any entanglements, he was being inexorably drawn into Abby’s web of goodness. So what’s wrong with that? What can it hurt to embrace all the good things she could bring to his life? Why not welcome and enjoy Laura’s undeniable adoration? Why shouldn’t I accept the challenge of becoming a real father figure to Ben?

  “Is everything all right?”

  The sound of Abby’s voice brought him back to the present with a jolt. Though he’d done nothing to clarify his thoughts, he was glad to leave his uncertainty behind for a while. He looked around the room and saw that Ben was nowhere in sight, the Bible was put away and Abby stood in the doorway of Ben’s room, staring at him with concern in her blue eyes. She must have finished her lesson, checked on the babies and put Ben to bed while he was woolgathering.

  “I’m fine. Why?”

  “Well, you don’t often sit out here in the evenings, and you seem distracted.”

  “I suppose I am,” he said, laying the publication aside. “I need to talk to you about something.”

  “Is it life or death?” she quipped with a hint of her usual spunk.

  “Of course not,” he said. “Why?”

  Her shoulders rose in a slight shrug. “You have a very grim expression on your face.”

  “Oh. Actually, it’s nothing grim at all. I saw Rachel when I was in town and she asked us to join them for Thanksgiving.”

  She looked surprised. “Oh. We’ve joined them every Thanksgiving since we came from Missouri, but I wasn’t sure she’d ask this year, with William...” Her voice trailed away.

  “Ben told me that’s how you usually spend the day,” Caleb confessed.

  “He did?”

  He gave a slow nod. “The day we did the milking together, and I told him we’d go turkey hunting. Would you like to go?” He heard the wariness in his voice and sensed they were both feeling their way through the conversation...as if they were walking through a swamp with dangerous quicksand pits.

  “What did you and Emily do?”

  “After my dad died, we went to her family. Before that, I usually dropped her off and came home. It was just another day.”

  The flicker of shock that crossed her features was so fleeting he might have imagined it. “Eating with the Stones would certainly be a nice change of pace since I haven’t been anywhere since Betsy was born,” she said, a thoughtful expression on her face.

  “Of course you should go, then.”

  She looked into his eyes for several uncomfortable seconds, as if she were trying to see into his very soul. Then she smiled, the simple action stealing Caleb’s breath. “As much as I might like to get out, this will be the first holiday season for both of us without―” she paused “―without Emily and William. I’m thinking it might be a bit uncomfortable for us both. Besides, I think Betsy is too little to be taken out yet, especially with the weather so nasty. So if it’s all the same to you, I’d like very much to stay at home and start our own Thanksgiving tradition.”

  Caleb slowly released a strangled breath. “That’s fine. I’d like that,” he said and realized as he spoke that it was the truth. “Ben and I will go out tomorrow and see if we can get a turkey.”

  “I have every confidence in you,” Abby told him, her blue eyes alight with a teasing humor, “but just in case you come home empty-handed, we can have one of those beautiful hams you smoked.”

  “Great.” Why did he sound so stiff? Why couldn’t he show an enthusiasm to match hers?

  “The Stones usually come to us for Christmas,” Abby said, “but again, I’m not sure that would be a good idea. I think we both need some time to get accustomed to our new life and each other, don’t you?”

  “I do,” he said. “But if you change your mind, if we’re a bit more settled as a family in a month, we could rethink it.”

  “That sounds like a good plan,” she said, attempting a smile that fell a bit short of the mark. “Will you let them know our decision the next time you go into town?”

  “I’d be glad to. Is there anything I can bring you from the mercantile?”

  “Bring me?”

  “Whatever else you might need for the meal.”

  She narrowed her eyes in thought and tapped her forefinger against her lips, drawing Caleb’s attention to their soft fullness. “Let me think on it a bit. I know you eat everything, but is there anything you’d especially like me to fix?”

  “I don’t expect you to cook anything special for me,” he told her, actually taken aback by the offer.

  She fisted her hands on her hips. “Of course I’ll fix whatever you want. We’re starting a new Gentry holiday tradition. Funds permitting, I always make some sort of fruit salad for me, and Ben wants sweet potatoes with lots of butter, brown sugar and pecans on top.”

  Caleb’s mouth began to water. “I’d love some sweet potatoes,” he confessed. “My dad hated them.”

  He offered no further information; the simple statement said it all. “Then you will have sweet potatoes. Anything else?”

  “Do you know how to make pecan pie? My mother used to make it, but the only time I get it now is if I happen to stop by the café when Ellie’s made one.”

  “Not only do I make the best pecan pie in town, I’ll match my crust to anyone’s in the state.”

  Caleb was unable to stop the quick smile that quirked his lips. “Pretty boastful, aren’t you?”

  “It isn’t boasting if it’s the truth, is it?”

  “Well, we’ll see, won’t we?” Caleb wondered if the question was his way of teasing.

  “We will,” she said with a saucy lift of her chin. “If you think of anything else, let me know. This is the one holiday I go a little crazy in the kitchen. Christmas is a bit lower key so that we can enjoy the day, our gifts and each other.”

  Enjoy the day. The concept was foreign, as was the idea of just spending time enjoying gifts and each other. Gifts! Though he’d always picked up something for Emily at the mercantile, usually something her mother said she’d like, Caleb had never bought Christmas gifts for anyone before. This year he would need not only something for Abby, but Ben and Laura, as well. He raked his hand through his hair, a bit overwhelmed by the whole idea. Well, he had almost a whole month to deal with that!

  “That sounds...nice,” he told her, realizing that the comment was unsatisfactory but unable to think of another. “If you think of anything you want or need, just let me know.”

  * * *

  Caleb picked up the farming quarterly, effectively ending their conversation, which Abby thought was a sh
ame. She’d enjoyed learning more about him and his likes, and the bit of sparring they’d engaged in about the pie had been stimulating after so many days of dealing with each other by saying and doing only the appropriate thing.

  A time or two, she’d thought they were making a bit of progress, but the truth was that Caleb hadn’t been the same since the night she’d cut his hair and he’d kissed her. Knowing the kind of man he was, she imagined he was berating himself for the momentary lack of control, since Emily had been gone such a short time. But since he’d confessed the true circumstances of his marriage, Abby wasn’t sure she understood his guilt. Common sense told her that she should be satisfied with her life, and in many ways she was, but she’d be a lot happier sparring with him from time to time rather than dealing with a polite stranger. Like Laura, Abby knew she should be happy with baby steps.

  Something positive had been accomplished through their decision to stay at home for Thanksgiving, though. As much as she might have liked to spend the day with Rachel and Edward, the things she’d told Caleb were true. She did feel it would be uncomfortable for them both to spend the day with friends, even though those friends were much loved, and she would enjoy beginning a new tradition that was centered on their new family. A baby step, but a strong one.

  * * *

  Abby was shelling pecans for Caleb’s pie in front of the kitchen fireplace when the back door was flung open and Ben poked in his head.

  “Mom, come see!” he yelled, his smile so broad it looked as if his cheeks should hurt.

  “Shush! You’ll wake the babies,” she cautioned, casting a cautious glance toward the playpen and cradle. Seeing that neither little girl was stirring, Abby set the bowls onto the table and shook out her apron in the ash bucket.

  “Does all this excitement mean you got us a turkey for tomorrow?” she asked.

  He nodded vigorously. “I got a big old tom. He’s got a beard and everything.”