Second-Chance Bride (Dakota Brides Book 3)(17)

After her crop was in the ground, she must learn to do things on her own, though occasional neighborly visits between her and Ward might be okay.

She let the boys play most of the afternoon then called them to join her. She rubbed them dry, enjoying the opportunity to tickle them and hold them. Kit welcomed her hugs, but this was her first real chance to hug Milo. He leaned into her for a moment before he pulled away.

“Sit on the blanket until you’re dry then put your clothes on,” she said. They did so, both pressing close to her, bringing a swell of joy to her heart.

“Tell us stories about Norway,” Milo said. He had grown to enjoy the things she shared. So she told him a few more stories about life in Norway.

“I wish I grew up there,” he said.

“Why is that?”

“Because it is a happy place.”

“That was true for my family but not necessarily for all families. Even in Norway, parents sometimes die when their children are little. And some people are unkind to each other.”

“Not your family.”

She nodded, letting him believe her family was ideal. Not that she had any cause for complaint. Even leaving her out of many activities had been an attempt to protect her as much as to avoid having her slow down the older ones.

Milo leaned against her. “I wish I had your family.”

“It’s pretty loud. You might find it scary.”

“No, I wouldn’t. Besides, you’d be there to make sure I was okay.”

She hugged Milo. She couldn’t help herself. “Yes, I would be.”

She was rewarded by having him put his arms around her and remain there several seconds before he withdrew. “I think you’re both dry enough to get dressed.”

They had barely returned to the house when she heard Ward bringing in the horses. Fearing something had gone wrong, she dashed outside.

“It’s Saturday,” he said.

“Yes, we already agreed on that fact.”

He chuckled. “So we did. That makes tomorrow Sunday.”

“Every week, it’s the same.” The man left her confused at times.

“Sunday I don’t work. Saturday night we have baths. So I will stop early.”

“Oh. Then I shall go home.”

“Not before we eat. I’ll be in after I’ve taken care of the horses.”

Freyda returned inside and put a fourth plate on the table. “Your papa will be here for supper.”

“Good,” Kit said.

“Ahh.” Milo’s answer was not one of anticipation.

She stared at Milo. “You sound disappointed.”

He ducked his head. “I liked having just us. You talk a lot more and tell us stories when Papa isn’t here.”

“I like being with you too, but your papa wants to be with you as well. Maybe you should ask him to tell you stories.” She hoped if Milo asked him that Ward would comply and fill the boy’s mind with happy thoughts of his father’s life.

“He won’t tell me stories like yours.”

“Milo, you don’t know if you don’t ask.” She would find a way to draw memories from Ward just as she had a few days ago.

Ward strode into the house and hung his hat on the hook by the door. “Boys, it’s Saturday.” He seemed awfully happy about the fact.

Again, Freyda wondered if she missed some special meaning to the day.

“Bath night.”

Milo groaned. “We don’t need baths. We spent the afternoon in the creek.”

“Is that a fact?” Ward looked to Freyda.

“It is as much a fact as today being Saturday. They soaked until they grew as wrinkled as hundred-year-old men.” She bent over and sniffed them. “They smell fresh and clean. However, if you want to heat the water for them to bathe and haul it in and out…” She grinned at him.

“Huh. Well, maybe I’ll take a trip down to the creek too, rather than haul all that water in and out.”

Her cheeks grew warm at the teasing look he gave her. “Supper is ready.” She scurried around serving up the stew.

“Papa,” Milo began, his tone cautious. “Mrs. Haevre tells us lots of stories about Norway. She said you could tell us stories about America.”

“She did, did she?” Ward’s gaze held hers. He looked deep into her eyes. As if searching for a reason for her to say such a thing.

She would not think whether it was warning or welcome she saw. “They’d like to hear what it was like when you were a boy.”

His mouth tightened. His eyes darkened.

She understood he remembered the harsh treatment of his boyhood. “Do you remember your first horse? Did you have any pets?”

The tension drained from his face. “I had a pet cat. She followed me everywhere and meowed at me like she wanted to talk.”

“What did she look like?” Milo asked.

“She was short-haired. Her ears had been frozen so they were short too. She was mostly gray with some black and orange.”

“Where did you get her?” Milo twitched with eagerness.

“I found her in the barn and we became friends.” He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but Freyda knew better. The cat had meant a lot to him.

“Did you play games with her?” Milo wasn’t going to let the subject end until he had more details.