Page 15 of Mail-Order Brides Wishes (Montana Mail-Order Brides #7)

He couldn’t bring himself to ask. He didn’t want to put her on the spot, nor did he want an answer that would have him realize how foolish his hopes were.

A man didn’t need to invite that sort of hurt.

Instead, he got from the wagon to help Bryn and Susie.

Not that Susie needed much help. All he could do was catch her, so she didn’t hurt herself jumping down.

“It’s like a tree house.” She waved her arms overhead to the leafy trees and then began tramping through the grass. Bryn stood at his side. “It’s a beautiful place. Hearing your story about being here makes it even more beautiful.”

Feeling a little awkward at having told her so much, he thought it was time to change the subject. “Wanna explore?”

“Indeed.” She took a step forward and her feet tangled in the tall grass.

He caught her hand to steady her and kept hold of it as they made their way after Susie who darted in and out of the trees as if playing tag with the shadows.

It weren’t that he needed a reason to hold her hand because, after all, she was his wife, and yet he did.

She stumbled again and his grip on her hand tightened.

“Look! Look!”

They hurried to catch up to Susie who stared up into a tree.

“I seen a bird go to that nest.”

He saw the nest she meant. “A mama bird feeding her babies.”

Susie stood, her mouth open, her eyes wide with fascination. “Where she is now?”

“Either she flew away or she’s sitting on her nest hiding her babies.” And she wouldn’t come back while a bunch of people was watching. Not that he was gonna tell Susie that and dash her hopes.

“Let’s see what else we can find,” Bryn said after a few minutes of watching the overhead branch and seeing no birds. She reached for Susie’s hand.

The little one hesitated then with a huge sigh, took her aunt’s hand.

The three of them moved on, hand in hand, like a real family, like belonging, like…

It hit him. It was here he’d found God. What better place to let himself believe he’d found family as well.

They poked through bushes, explored around trees, paused to overturn rocks, and waited while Susie collected her treasures— shiny rocks, a big leaf, a twig she said looked like a bird flying.

All of them, she gave to Flint to carry, trusting him to make sure they got home safely. He would certainly do that.

They returned to the wagon where he piled Susie’s treasures in the back for safekeeping then helped Bryn spread the quilts under some trees where the grass wasn’t tall enough to be a bother.

She put the box holding their lunch in the middle and they sat around it.

“I’ll say grace.” He tossed his hat to one side. Seemed he should have special words at this special place, but nothing came to mind. So he prayed his usual grace.

Bryn handed him a thick sandwich. Took another for herself and a thin one for Susie. Once they’d eaten those, she held a plate before her but didn’t offer it to anyone.

“This place is special to you. Well, these biscuits have a special memory for me. I was only a bit older than Susie when my mother died. I remember very little about her. I was sent to my maternal grandparents to live. They were old and set in their ways, but they tried to give me a home. One time my grandmother had to go out. I couldn’t have been six yet because my father hadn’t remarried.

She left me with my grandfather who never noticed me.

Mostly he sat at a desk in his study or slept in the big armchair he claimed as his.

Grandmother said I was to be quiet and not bother him.

She gave me a little lunch and said I could eat out under the trees.

A picnic was a rare occasion for me. I suppose she was hoping it would keep me outdoors and quiet and not bothering Grandfather.

Little biscuits filled with jam were my lunch.

I’ve had a fondness for biscuits and jam ever since that.

” She laughed softly. “I made tiny ones just like I remember.” She folded the cloth back enough for him to see biscuits no bigger’n a plum.

Another little laugh. “I did make some bigger ones for you.” She finished removing the cloth and revealed a pile of regular-sized biscuits, golden brown with red jam poking out.

He took one, never taking his attention off her. Questions raced through his head. He wanted to know more about her life back east. Both as a child and as a grown-up. Would she answer him if he asked them? One way to find out.

Susie stood up. “Can I go?” At Bryn’s nod, Susie grabbed two tiny biscuits and skipped away. Now would be a good time to ask some of his questions.

“Ya said you had this picnic—” He held up a jam-filled biscuit to inform her what picnic he meant. “Before your father remarried. I’m guessing that would be Susie’s grandma.”

Bryn’s head jerked up, her eyes wide. Her glance went past him into the bushes.

He turned to see what had caught her attention, maybe even frightened her but he saw nothing but shadows and flashes of sunlight through the fluttering leaves.

“That’s right.” Her voice seemed thick and he offered her a drink of water from the jar he’d brought along.

“Did ya go live with your pa when he married again?”

“No. I was still a girl and of no use to him.”

No mistaking the reason for the thickness in her voice this time. Her pa had hurt her by turning her away because she was a girl.

“I’m sorry. He was wrong.” Something else was plain to him. “Also robbed himself of the joy of having ya in his life.”

Her throat worked. Her eyes shone with wetness.

“Didn’t mean ta upset ya.”

She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Flint, that is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

Turning his palm to hers, he pulled her closer. “Tis a shame ta know that.” He wasn’t one for admitting his feelings, but right then and there, he decided he would tell both Bryn and Susie that he ’preciated them. “I’m pleased ya came out west ta be my wife.”

Color filled her cheeks. He liked knowing his words had that effect on her.

“I’m enjoying being here.” She spoke softly as if she were as afraid as he was to put feeling into words.

The food was gone. The quilt they sat on was dark colors.

It was in the cabin when he cleaned it out and he guessed Mrs. Roe had made it.

A moment of sadness filled him knowing as he did what had happened to her and her children.

And Mr. Roe. Then he shifted his thoughts to better things.

A wife. A child. Yes, he knew Susie had a father, but according to Bryn’s letters, the man had signed away any interest in his daughter.

He did not understand people. He pulled Bryn closer.

“Guess maybe people need ta know what it’s like not ta have family in order ta want it and do what they can ta protect it. ”

“I agree. I promised myself that Susie would never lack for love or care.” Her hand tightened on his.

“I promise the same thing.”

Turning, she faced him full-on. “I believe we can give that child all the love she needs.” She lowered her gaze. “But it will never completely erase the pain of her father’s rejection.”

He studied the top of her head. Her brown hair was so thick he couldn’t see her scalp. He understood Bryn didn’t speak only for Susie, but for herself as well.

Remembering his decision to say things Bryn and Susie needed to hear, he swallowed back his uncertainty and pulled her to his chest. “We’ll do our best. And I’ll do my best to help erase your own pain.” He breathed the words into her hair.

Bryn shuddered then sighed deeply, relaxing against him. For a few minutes, they sat that way and then she eased back.

“Thank you. You saying that has already helped.”

She put the picnic things back in the crate. Then looked around. “This is a nice place and so important to you.”

“And now even more so.”

Dark eyes jerked to him. “How so?”

“Being here with both of ya.” He shrugged, not certain how to explain his feelings but determined to try, he hurried on.

“I told ya about findin’ God here.” Though it weren’t God who needed finding.

It was hisself. “Did ya find God in church?” He imagined her in one of those big fancy churches he’d seen pictures of.

The sun broken into patches of color by the stained-glass windows.

High ceilings. He almost smelled the burning candles.

A slow, sweet smile curved her mouth. And her eyes gleamed as if one of those candles he imagined had been lit behind them.

“I told you I remember very little about my mother. One thing I do recall is her reading me Bible stories at bedtime. Like that woman who told you about God loving you, she told me the same thing. I grew up believing God loved me. And understanding that was why Jesus came. I was about four, before Mama died. I was standing in the kitchen. She was at the stove doing something. I asked her if I could give my heart to Jesus.” Bryn dashed away a tear.

Flint wanted to pull her close but didn’t want to interrupt her story.

“Some might have thought I was too young to know what I was doing but I have never doubted that my decision was real. And thanks to Mama’s good friend, Mrs. Blake, who lived next door to my grandparents— remember I told you about the fluffy cat?”

“And Susie tellin’ us she was big ’nough for a pet.”

Bryn chuckled. “It belonged to Mrs. Blake’s daughter. Mrs. Blake— I called her Aunt Anne. Anyway, she nurtured my faith.”

“It’s comfortin’ to know there was people who cared for ya.”

“Yes, it is.” Her gaze held his like a rope had been dropped over his eyes, pinning them so’s they couldn’t move. Suddenly, she lowered her gaze. It took a moment before he freed himself of the trapped feeling.

Her words came as a whisper on the wind. “Now we can care for each other.”

The words fluttered into his heart, maybe even into his very soul.

“I agree.” He reached for her and pulled her close.

She didn’t lean on his chest but held back so she was able to look into his eyes.

Again, an invisible rope tied them together.

Her smile filled her eyes until he felt it clear through to his toes.

The sound of Susie singing nearby made the two of them draw apart.

Suddenly the singing became a shriek and the two of them were on their feet and rushing toward the child.