Second-Chance Bride (Dakota Brides Book 3)(10)

Darkness filled the house as she returned from doing her own chores. Her home was silent and empty. It had been nice to spend the afternoon with two little boys.

She must not allow herself to depend too much on their company even though she had enjoyed the day. Owning her own farm, being independent, living the dream she had shared with Baruk, would be lonely, but she would do it. She would get used to cooking only for herself and talking to the four walls.





3





Ward regretted letting Freyda walk home alone with darkness rapidly descending, but he couldn’t see he had any other choice unless he wanted to take the boys over there and back. Perhaps he’d do that tomorrow rather than stare out the window until he couldn’t see her any longer and then assume she had made it back safely.

“Okay, you two. Time for bed.” He took the pair to the bedroom they shared and supervised them getting into their nightshirts. Both of which were too small. He’d have to locate an old one of Milo’s for Kit but he might have to order Milo’s replacement from the store.

Kit slipped his arms through the sleeves and let Ward button the front. Kit could do it himself but Ward liked the little ritual as much as Kit did. “Papa, Mrs. Haevre said we were handsome. What does that mean?”

He grinned to know she had praised the boys. “It means you are fine-looking young men.”

“Like you, Papa?”

He chuckled and pulled the boys close to him. Dorothy had complained that both were exact copies of him. “I suppose that is true, seeing as you look like me.” Handsome, Freyda thought? He couldn’t help but push his chest out a bit.

“Are we raff raff like old Mrs. Wright said?” Milo asked.

“She said things she shouldn’t have. Did things she shouldn’t have. That doesn’t make them true or right. You are boys who sometimes get into mischief but that’s part of growing up. There are times I must punish you for disobedience or meanness, but I would never be cruel.” He knew too well the damage of that sort of treatment.

Milo leaned back to study his father. “You know what she said?” He nodded toward the Haevre place, so Ward took him to mean Freyda. “She said getting mad hurts me.”

Ward closed his eyes and prayed for wisdom. He’d seen growing evidence that Milo’s temper often got the best of him, and he didn’t know how to help the boy. He would not use his Aunt Myra’s methods. Spare the rod, spoil the child. Seemed to him the rod could be misused. Seeing Mrs. Wright strike his son over and over had drained the blood from his heart. He would not allow his sons to be treated as his aunt had treated him.

“Milo, did you get angry?”

He hung his head. “Maybe.”

“He hit Mrs. Haevre,” Kit said.

“Let Milo tell his own story.”

“Sorry, Papa.” Kit’s bottom lip trembled at the slight rebuke.

“Milo?” Ward prompted.

“I was so angry I couldn’t stop myself.” A flash in his eyes warned Ward that the anger lingered.

“Why? What upset you? Did Mrs. Haevre do something?” If she had struck his son their agreement would be over and done with.

“No. She was nice. She held me until I wasn’t so angry and she told me a story about when she got angry when she was young.” He leaned back. “She has a mama and a papa and a grandpa. And I don’t know what else. How come we don’t?”

“My parents died when I was little.” He’d never told his sons about his childhood. Some things were best laid to rest.

Kit wrapped his arms around Ward’s neck. “No papa?”

“No.”

Milo studied his father a moment. “Where did you live? Who looked after you?”

Ward had hoped this day would never come, but he had prepared for it and decided he would not tell them he had an aunt and uncle back in Ohio. He never wanted them to meet. “A man and lady raised me. She was a lot like Mrs. Wright.”

“Oh, Papa. No.” Milo pressed his face to Ward’s chest. Silent tears soaked Ward’s shirt front. He rubbed Milo’s back. “It’s okay, Son. She can’t hurt me anymore.” He eased Milo back to look him in the eyes. “Milo, I will not let someone hurt you like that. You must tell me if anyone ever whips you.” He guessed it wasn’t the first time Mrs. Wright had used a switch on his son.

Milo nodded. “I will.”

The boys were quiet a moment before Kit spoke. “Is Mrs. Haevre coming tomorrow?”

“Yes. She will stay with you while I plant my crop and then hers. Is that okay?”

Kit nodded. “She’s nice.”

Ward looked to Milo for his answer.

“She’s okay.” His voice contained guardedness.

Ward understood. Trust did not come easy once it was shattered.

“Okay, say your prayers and into bed with you.” As he listened to the boys pray he said his own silent one. Thank you, Lord God, for someone to help. And so far she is fair with the boys. He would not rest easy until—

Until what? He needed help even though he didn’t want it.



He wakened the next morning to the knowledge that he must get the boys up, make breakfast, and milk the cow, all before Freyda arrived. Pink tinged the eastern sky by the time he woke the boys and set them to dressing themselves. He tried to decide if he should make breakfast or milk the cow while they dressed.