“Did you sleep well?” The words sounded choked. Forced. She heard him swallow.
“Well enough,” she managed to respond and moved to the stove. She noticed that the parcels had all been removed from the table and were carefully stacked in a corner.
“I’ve eaten,” he said woodenly. “There’s enough in the pot for your supper.”
Kathleen didn’t feel like eating. She moved the pot from the back of the stove where it had been keeping warm and turned to the small cupboard. She would just do the cleaning up and then go back to bed.
But the cleaning up had also been done. The dishes were all neatly stacked back on the shelves.
The wind howled outside again, rattling the branch that always scratched against the house. Kathleen shuddered.
“Another storm moving in,” observed Donnigan. “Good thing I managed to get to town for—” Then he stopped short.
He changed the topic quickly, rising from his chair and heading for his heavy coat. “Erma sent you a note,” he said. “I had her help me with the—the choosing.”
Kathleen’s full attention was immediate. She accepted the note and pulled a chair up close to the table and the lamp and began to read the short letter.
Dear Kathleen,
I have just been dying to see you. I do hope that the weather will soon improve so you can come to town. I have so much to talk to you about.We are going to have a baby! Lucas is so excited. He has already picked the name for his son. I can hardly wait. I’ve started my sewing. Lucas says at the rate that I am going, it will have to be triplets to make use of all the things.Come and see me as soon as you can.With warmest regards, Erma Kathleen carefully folded the letter and placed it in her apron pocket. How she envied Erma. Erma who was expecting a child. Erma who Lucas allowed to be a woman. Erma who now shared with a man the most intimate experience a woman could ever share—the plans and dreams and preparations of the coming of a child to their home. Kathleen felt like crying again. She dared not look toward Donnigan.
She rose from her chair and retreated to the bedroom. She was still awake when, much later, Donnigan joined her. She turned her back and feigned sleep. She wasn’t sure she liked the man. She might even hate him.
Chapter Fourteen
A Long Talk
Nothing further was said about the incident. They seemed to declare an unspoken truce. Kathleen was not sure if she was sorry or relieved. After a few days of strained silence, life went on much as it had before.
Kathleen did not go near the barn again, though she longed to pay a visit to Shee. Instead, she spent her time with needle in hand, sewing up garments from the material Donnigan had purchased. She would not have let herself express her joy at having new clothes of her very own, clothes that would actually fit properly, but she felt thankfulness nonetheless. She was quite willing, in her thinking, to lay all the credit at Erma’s door.
Donnigan was glad for winter chores. As every winter, the horses and cattle had been moved to the pasture adjoining the corrals so that they could be more easily cared for. The saddle horses and team were kept in the barn except on the warmer days. That meant barn cleaning, a job that Donnigan had once deplored. Now he welcomed even that, for it took him from the close confines of the kitchen. He took to talking to the black again. At first he felt awkward and embarrassed, but when the black rubbed his nose on the man’s sleeve as though he had been missing the conversations, Donnigan waved aside his feelings and enjoyed his little one-sided chats.
He did not discuss Kathleen—or his empty marriage. That was far too personal even to share with a horse. Instead, he talked about the weather, the other farm animals, or his plans for spring.
At times Donnigan found himself envying Lucas. The man seemed totally pleased with his marriage. He always spoke about how he was teaching Erma this or telling her about that. It seemed to Donnigan that the two really talked.
Donnigan missed Wallis. He would have loved to slip over to the neighbor’s farm for a manly chat and a cup of the bitter coffee. But Wallis gave all indications of being more than wrapped up in his new wife. Folks joked in town about Wallis becoming henpecked. She whistled—he ran. But if Wallis didn’t mind the arrangement, why should anyone else fuss, Donnigan reasoned.
No, it seemed that he was really the only one of the three who had struck out. And he couldn’t blame it on the young Kathleen. He had been surprised to hear her declare that she was seventeen. Though still young, she was older than he had thought. He had feared that she might be closer to fifteen. Almost eighteen, she had said. Donnigan had known many girls who were married by eighteen. It was Kathleen’s size that had fooled him. She was so tiny. So frail.
No, actually she wasn’t that frail anymore. Oh, she was still a small, dainty woman, but she wasn’t frail. She looked much better than when she had first arrived. And she was much stronger than she looked, he granted her that.
She had said that he treated her like a child, and with a flush to his cheeks, he admitted that he had. He had such a time thinking of her as anything else. But he was working on it. He really was.
They were invited to share Christmas with Lucas and Erma. Kathleen was sure that Lucas’s invitation had come in response to Erma’s pleading. But she was just thankful for the opportunity to get out of the house for a day.
The weather cooperated. It was still cold, but the wind was not blowing, and the sun was weakly sharing its rays with the world. Kathleen wore her favorite of the new garments and wrapped her warmest shawl closely about her shoulders. She saw Donnigan toss a couple of warm blankets in the sled, but he refrained from telling her that she should wrap up in them.
Erma was still not “showing”—except in her face that seemed to glow. Again Kathleen felt envy wash over her. Erma had so much.
Lucas, always the good host, had arranged a complete turkey dinner for them to eat in the hotel dining room rather than up in the suite. “Food odors sometimes bother Erma,” Lucas explained.
But Kathleen cared not where she was served. It was so good to get out. So nice to be with other people.
After the dinner, Lucas needed his cigar, so he and Donnigan stayed to chat in the dining room while Erma and Kathleen went to the rooms above.
“I can hardly wait to show you all the baby things,” Erma enthused as they climbed the stairs.
Lucas had been right. Erma had already filled a chest with carefully stitched little garments. Kathleen wondered how she would fill her next six months.
“You are really happy, aren’t you, Erma?” Kathleen could not help but say.
“Oh yes!” exclaimed the young woman. “It has made so much difference to be—to be waiting for a child. My hours have meaning now. The days aren’t nearly so lonely. And Lucas—Lucas comes home every morning, promptly at ten, so that I can get some fresh air and some exercise.”
At Kathleen’s puzzled look, Erma hurried to explain.
“It isn’t proper for a woman to be out on the streets alone,” she said, “so Lucas comes home and takes me for a walk.”
Kathleen could only stare. Poor Erma had been virtually a prisoner in her own suite of rooms.
“When I get too—too—obvious to be on the streets of town, Lucas says that we will drive to the country, tie the carriage, and go for a little walk down some private trail.”
Kathleen’s mouth fell open. She quickly put aside her envy. At least Donnigan allowed her some freedom.
“Oh, Lucas has been reading up on it,” Erma hurried on, not understanding Kathleen’s expression. “One must have fresh air and exercise—for the sake of the mother and the baby.”