Second-Chance Bride (Dakota Brides Book 3)(39)

Milo looked at her, startled, as she slammed the kettle to the stove.

“Sorry,” she said, her voice catching. “Wasn’t thinking about what I was doing.”

Milo eased over to stand by the stove and studied her. “What were you thinking about?”

Even with her eyes closed she could have read the longing in his voice and with her eyes wide open, she saw it in his eyes. “Milo, I was thinking how much I enjoy having you and Kit in my house. Even when you are gone home, I will remember you playing with Smokey, and helping me make the meals.” She hugged him.

“Maybe we don’t have to go.” He sounded so hopeful she felt her heart crack.

“You will go home with your papa. But you will come back tomorrow.” She knew he didn’t mean solely today. But she could offer him nothing more than the days it took for Ward to seed the crop.

“I know.” Milo moved away. He did not join his brother playing with Smokey. Instead, he went to the window and stared out.

She wondered what he saw, or maybe, what he sought. Was she doing the right thing in getting so fond of the boys and allowing them to grow fond of her? But she could not do otherwise while spending time with them.

“When is Papa going to stop?” Milo asked.

She joined him at the window. The sun was low in the west. “Why don’t we go ask him?”

“Okay.”

So the three of them crossed to the field.

“I was just about to quit for the day.” Ward unhitched the horses and they headed back to the yard.

Freyda stayed at his side. There was so much she wanted to say, but didn’t dare. They had become friends. Good neighbors. That had to be enough.

Darkness had closed in around them by the time the horses had been attended to and the meal eaten. She handed him the lantern he had lent her the evening before. “I’ll wait until I see you swing it so I know you are all home safely.” She stood at the doorway and watched the light of the lantern bob in time to Ward’s steps. Occasionally something blocked it from view and she imagined it was one of the boys running by.

Then it swung in a wide arc. They were home. She swung hers too. The light disappeared as they went indoors and then a yellow glow appeared at the window. Only then did she go inside. Into her too-quiet house with her too-lonely heart.

That night she took her Norwegian Bible from the chest and began to read it. She had been reading her English version, but needed answers that she could only find in her native language. God, have I made a mistake coming to America? God, what is it I need? What are Your plans for me?

She pored over familiar verses, read several Psalms, but the answer eluded her.



They settled into a routine over the next few days. Ward fed the boys breakfast before bringing them to the house. Freyda gave the horses two days of work and then succeeded in getting them into harness.

She laughed, though she feared tears would accompany her joy, and hurried away. Why couldn’t she be satisfied with her accomplishment? Why did her heart feel so hollow?

They shared meals, laughed about the boys’ antics, and talked about the farm.

But it all felt so empty.

“Tomorrow is Sunday,” Ward announced over dinner.

“I’m looking forward to it.” Perhaps at church she would find the answers for her restless soul.

“I promised Kit we’d see if Anker had another kitten for him. Do you think your brother will mind if we go out there?”

She chuckled. “Oh, he will mind alright.” She waited while Ward rubbed his neck. “He’ll mind if we don’t go. You know how it is. I’m the little sister he has to take care of.”

Ward went from worried to laughing. “Maybe you should invite him to your place to show him how you are managing.”

“Excellent idea. I’ll do that for the following Sunday.” Only she wouldn’t be harnessing her horses on Sunday to show Anker she could do it, and she’d have to admit that Ward had seeded her crop. “Arranging help shows that I have found a way to manage.”

His eyes were full of dark approval. “It certainly is a wise way to handle things.”

“Thanks.” Only she didn’t feel gratitude, so much as frustration. Lord, I seek Your guidance.



Sunday morning, Ward drove to Freyda’s house with the boys in the back of the wagon. He helped her to the seat and they made their way to town.

Again, they encountered Klaus and Gerda Hoffmann.

Mrs. Hoffmann addressed Freyda. “I will come to visit this week and welcome you. I apologize for not coming sooner, but I’ve not been feeling well.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you better now?” Freyda thought the woman looked the picture of health.

“I am better and in a few months I will have a baby. I am so happy.” Indeed, the woman glowed.

“Congratulations.” Freyda pressed her hand to her waist. She’d hoped she and Baruk would have made a baby before he left. It didn’t happen. Kit pressed to her arm. Now she loved two little boys. But—

She sighed.

The Hoffmanns drove on.

“Are you okay?” Ward asked.

She managed a smile. “I am fine.”

He said nothing more, but he glanced sideways at her several times before they reached the church.

Anker, Lena, and Nels waited in the yard and greeted them. Anker hugged Freyda.