Second-Chance Bride (Dakota Brides Book 3)(28)

Four more cows with calves scampering at their sides came from the trees. Also with muddy feet.

“Only two missing now, right?” Freyda asked.

“I expect they’re in the trees still.” Seeing his cows looking fat and content, and seeing the new calves filled him with satisfaction.

Freyda leaned forward on her knees.

He lay back on one elbow to study her. “Did you know I thought of being a cowboy, driving cattle north, working on a farm, riding a horse every day?”

She shifted so she could study him. “What changed your mind?”

“Dorothy. Where would she fit into that sort of life?” He sat up and faced her. “I just realized something. I’m wrong. It wasn’t because of Dorothy I chose farming over riding after cows.” He glanced toward the boys who still ran back and forth over the top of the hill. “I wanted something permanent. I wanted a home and family.”

She touched the back of his hand, bringing his gaze back to her. “And you have it.”

“It’s not quite what I had in mind, but I have my boys. That’s all that matters.” He looked down at the cows. “It’s all that’s ever really mattered.”

He heard Freyda’s intake of breath. Felt her surprise. Brought his attention back to her to see her eyes had grown wide.

“Don’t you mean Dorothy and the boys?”

Slowly, he shook his head as he allowed himself to acknowledge the truth. “Dorothy didn’t want to be a wife. She didn’t want to be a mother. She wanted to be courted and wooed without any responsibility attached to it. Neither of us realized it until too late.” He held Freyda’s gaze, searching for understanding. She did not look away. Did not reveal shock.

She rubbed her lips together. “Ward, that’s sad. For both of you.” She glanced toward the boys. “Did she—?”

“She wasn’t unkind to them.” It was the best he could say.

Freyda looked at the cart. “That’s why you had the boys with you?”

He didn’t answer. “I have the boys. That’s enough for me.”

“And they have you.” Her eyes said so much more than her words. They offered encouragement and approval. For today he would not worry that he might be looking for things he’d wanted all his life. Nor would he think he might be looking for them where they weren’t offered.

Kit tripped and fell. He let out a wail that took Ward back to what he knew mattered. His sons. He jumped to his feet. “Who’d like a ride in the cart?” The boys ran to him and jostled each other as they waited while he removed the lunch things and the other blankets from the cart.

He lifted Kit into the cart while Milo scrambled in on his own. Then he pushed the conveyance to where the ground sloped downward. He ran down the hill, the boys bouncing and screaming enjoyment.

At the bottom, he made them climb out and pushed the little wagon up the hill.

The boys were back in it as soon as he turned it around and they raced downhill again. Over and over they made the ride until Ward sat down. “No more. I’m about wore out.”

“Please, Papa. Again.” The boys tackled him and he lay back with the pair on his chest.

Only then did he allow himself a glance toward Freyda. She smiled but her eyes were serious.

Did she think him foolish to play with his boys so freely? He pushed the pair to the ground beside him and sat up.

Or did she think him critical—or even unfaithful—to his wife’s memory?

Why did he so dearly want for her to see how his heart hurt at his disappointments? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t had her own. Losing her husband while he was in America and she in Norway.

How could he show her his sympathy and still guard his heart against the growing attraction he felt toward her?





7





Freyda watched Ward tumble about with his sons. He might say they were all he needed or wanted, but she’d had a glimpse of a lonely, disillusioned man who longed for a real home. A large, empty spot in her own heart ached for the same. But an even greater need swallowed it up. She wanted to prove she could do something worthwhile on her own. Without the help of her brother, her cousin or even a neighbor. The only help she could allow herself to accept was one that involved a fair trade such as the agreement she had with Ward. They helped each other. They needed each other.

She looked at the picnic basket on the ground and could not explain where picnics and outings fit into that arrangement.

“I’m hungry,” Kit said.

It was for the two motherless boys she did these extra things. She was obeying God’s word. For it said, ‘Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.’

“Good thing I brought a picnic,” she said, as she opened the basket of sandwiches. “Who else would like to eat?”

Ward spread the blankets nearby and the three males sat cross-legged, waiting.

She looked at them and started to laugh.

They looked at each other then back to her.

“What’s so funny?” Ward asked.

“I feel like a mama bird. All I need is for the three of you to open your mouths so I can drop in the food.”

Ward tipped his head back and opened his mouth. The boys followed his example.