Second-Chance Bride (Dakota Brides Book 3)(47)

This was why she had come to America.

He caught her hand and held it at his chest. He didn’t speak a word but he didn’t need to. She could see the uncertain hope in his eyes. Perhaps it was up to her to remove the uncertainty. How she was to do that, or what it would lead to, she didn’t know and for now it didn’t matter. She sat back, content with the way things between them were at the moment.

After church, Anker and Lena followed them to Freyda’s farm. Charlie rode in the back of Ward’s wagon where there was a great deal of giggling.

Nels followed on horseback.

As soon as they arrived, Lena and Freyda set out the meal Freyda had prepared.

Eight of them sat around her table. Ward to her right, Anker to her left. The others filled in all four sides. She asked Anker to say the grace.

“This is lovely,” Lena said after she’d tasted the food.

“Thank you.” Freyda looked to Anker. “Well?”

“It’s good, but then you always were a good cook.”

She sighed and turned to Ward. “A good cook. That’s about all the praise I’ll ever get.” Then it hit her. She didn’t need his praise. Or anyone’s, for that matter. She knew what she was capable of. “But then, I suppose I will always be his little sister.”

Anker grinned. “Yup. Even when you’re old and gumming your food.” He illustrated, sending the boys into a fit of giggles.

Freyda looked down the table to her cousin. “Nels, you’re awfully quiet. Is there something wrong?”

“I haven’t heard from Inga, and I should have by now. My house is ready, though she will want to add the finishing touches.” He pursed his lips. “I guess I’m impatient. And lonely.”

The others had all had their share of waiting and loneliness and knew better than to offer empty consolation.

“So tell me about your house,” Freyda said.

He brightened. “It’s got a big kitchen and a dining room. The sitting room has a big window so we can see the river. I often see deer.” He puffed out his chest. “I want a big family, so I built four bedrooms. Enough room for six or more children. And I can add more rooms.”

Anker leaned forward. “You do realize, it takes a few years to produce six children.”

Nels shrugged. “Didn’t take you long to produce one.”

That brought a chuckle from the adults.

Freyda rose to get the spice cake she had iced and set it on the table.

“Today is June fifteenth.” She smiled at Ward and then glanced around the table. “It’s a special day. Can anyone guess why?”

“It’s Sunday,” Milo said.

“Your family is visiting.” Anker sounded like it could be the only reasonable thing.

“Those are good things,” she said, and turned to Ward. His gaze filled with confusion. “Today is Ward’s birthday. Happy birthday, Ward.” She handed him the card she’d made. It was nothing special. She’d done her best to draw purple flowers and had written a simple greeting.

May this glad time on you bestow

The choicest gifts the heart can know.

Would he understand her subtle message that she wanted to share more than work and tending children? She wanted to share her heart. His heart.

Everyone offered their best wishes.

Ward thanked her and the others, but she wondered if he was uncomfortable with all the attention.

She smiled as she cut the cake and served it along with coffee. It was time Ward saw he was a man who deserved to be given some acknowledgement.

The children finished their cake and were dismissed to play, but the adults lingered at the table talking about the weather and the crops and telling stories about life in Norway.

“I’d like to see this place.” Anker pushed to his feet. “Ward, do you want to show me around?”

Freyda was on her feet before Anker finished. “I think you’ve forgotten that this is my farm. I will show you around.”

Anker looked confused.

Lena sighed. “One would think you’d learn.”

Ward chuckled. “She’s right. It’s her farm. She’ll show you around.”

At Ward’s words, the anger left Freyda. “Thank you. You are welcome to come with us.”

He grinned at her. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Nor would I.” Lena followed them.

Nels, too, followed.

She introduced them to Boots and Boss, grateful when they came at her whistle. She and Ward grinned at each other, sharing the secret of her past struggles with the horses. She took them to the crop where the first little green shoots on the first row already poked through the ground.

Anker tested the fences. “Baruk left things in good shape.”

Ohh. Did the man not realize how he made it sound as if Freyda had nothing to do with the way things were? But she kept silent. Let him think what he wanted. She knew what she was capable of and, more than that, she knew why she had come to America. The knowledge gave her an inner peace and strength that no words could take away.

Anker examined the barn. Yes, it was true that Baruk had built it. And that Ward had cleaned the pens when Baruk lay sick.

The tour complete, Anker turned to Freyda. “Baruk would be proud of you.”

Enough was enough. “Baruk is dead, God rest his soul. He can’t be proud of me. Would it hurt you to say you’re proud of me? Or at least acknowledge that I’m managing fine on my own?”