Книга The Midwife - читать онлайн бесплатно, автор Carolyn Davidson. Cтраница 4
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The Midwife
The Midwife
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The Midwife

She shook her head quickly. “Oh, you mustn’t bother. Just bring them to me on Sunday when you come to see the baby.” Leah felt a flush climb her cheeks as she became aware of the hush within the store as the women moved closer, the better to hear the words she spoke.

Garlan Lundstrom shifted uncomfortably, as if he had only now become aware of the several women who surrounded him. “Well, maybe I can hang a bag over my boy’s horse when he rides to school tomorrow. He can bring them to you.”

Leah nodded. “That would be wonderful. I’ll pay you for them when I see you next.”

His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed at her words. “You will feed my child with them, no?”

Leah swallowed, unwilling to get into a confrontation in the middle of the store. “Yes, certainly,” she agreed.

“Then you don’t need to pay me.” His gaze scanned her, softening only when he smiled at his daughter. “Give the child to me,” he ordered gruffly, holding out his arms. “I’ll carry her to your house and wait for you there.”

Leah gave over the child, nodding her thanks as Gar turned from her to leave the store. Karen was growing by leaps and bounds, her small, round body weighing heavily after a time in Leah’s arms.

The store buzzed with half a dozen voices as the tall Swede left, the door closing with a bang behind him. “He’s a stern one,” Lula Dunbar said with a sniff, peering at Leah over her glasses. “You’ll do well to be rid of him once he finds someone to live out there and tend those children and his house for him. Though I don’t know where he’s going to look next. I declare he’s asked every old maid and widow in the county.”

Leah shrugged. “I’m in no hurry to have him take the baby. She’s good company.”

Bonnie called her name, and Leah turned gladly to heed her questions. “Do you want green tea today? We just got in a new shipment. And how about fresh baking powder? We’ve been out for almost a week, and I remember you asked for a tin last Friday.”

“Yes and yes,” Leah said with a smile. “Green tea is good for the stomach, and after today—” she nodded surreptitiously at the black-clad figure of Lula Dunbar “—I’ll need something soothing to drink, I believe.”

Bonnie nodded, then spoke in an undertone. “Everyone’s thinking the only way Gar Lundstrom will find help out there will be to marry someone.” Her voice was wistful.

Leah blinked. “Marry? You think he’s going to get married?” she whispered. “It’s only been five months since…” She still had trouble speaking the words.

“Mourning is a privilege reserved for those who can afford it,” Bonnie said sagely. “Around here, a man’s lucky if he can find somebody willing to take over a family if he loses his wife. Of course, a handsome man like Garlan might not be so hard put to talk some lady into it.” Bonnie’s eyes grew soft, as if she yearned in that direction, and Leah nodded.

“You like him, don’t you, Bonnie?”

“Yes, for all the good it does me. He looks right through me. Always has, always will, I suspect. I’m not pretty enough for a man to take a second look at.”

Leah privately concluded the same, but her tender heart prompted her to disagree. “One of these days, the right man will come by and snap you up like a bolt of lightning, Bonnie. You just watch.”

Without Karen to carry, Leah added ten pounds of flour to her order, then pondered over a piece of yard goods for a dress. Her bundle was large, and she carried it in both hands as she made her way to the small house where Gar Lundstrom waited for her.

He sat on the porch, leaning against the upright post, his long legs propped on the second step. Karen was across his thighs, and her feet pushed at his waist as he lifted her to stand on his lap. She swayed, holding his index fingers, cooing and gurgling her delight at the man who held her.

“She enjoys seeing you,” Leah said, watching from the bottom step.

Gar looked at her, his gaze stern as always. “She is growing before my eyes. I miss much, only spending time with her on Sunday afternoons.”

Leah smiled brightly. “Well, as soon as you find a housekeeper, you can take her back, Mr. Lundstrom. I only agreed to keep her for six months.” Any longer than that would be a mistake, Leah had already decided. As it was, giving up the baby would be heart wrenching.

“I wonder if I have been looking in the wrong places, Mrs. Gunderson.” His eyes met hers, and Leah was stunned by the calculation she sensed in their depths. He allowed his gaze to sweep over her length, pausing almost imperceptibly on her narrow waist and the flare of her bosom above it.

“I think I need more than a housekeeper, Mrs. Gunderson,” he said quietly, his eyes once more touching her face with pale concentration. “I’m in town today to speak with you about a matter of interest to both of us.”

Leah’s heart bumped, halted and quivered in her chest. Surely not, she thought. The man didn’t even like her, even though his hatred had waned over the past months. Surely he couldn’t be thinking of making her an offer?

“Shall we go inside?” she asked, drawing in a breath lest her voice break and reveal her uncertainty. She stepped past his seated figure and opened her door, holding it ajar as he stood and carried the baby into the parlor.

He watched while Leah carried her bundle into the kitchen, and her mind raced. Perhaps it would be better to speak with the man in the parlor, where the atmosphere was not so homey, where she might sit on the horsehair sofa and listen to his offer. For, sure as the world was turning, an offer was what she was about to hear. She’d be willing to bet her bank account on it.

“Mrs. Gunderson. Leah.” He’d followed her into the kitchen, speaking her given name, as if what he was about to say was too personal to merit formality.

“Yes?” Leah turned to face him, the table between them, her fingers working at the string that tied her purchases.

His hand waved at her efforts. “Leave that alone for a moment and sit down. Please.” He drew a chair from the table, waited until she had obeyed his order and then sat down, facing her.

Leah bit at her lip, nervous as she anticipated the words he was about to speak. If he should offer to hire her as housekeeper, she would refuse, for the gossip would not allow her a reputation worth having.

Her eyes lifted to meet his gaze and she tilted her chin, as if she dared him to suggest such a thing. Again his eyes made a survey, this time touching the honey-colored braids she wore as a coronet atop her head, then focusing on the set of her jaw and the tight pursing of her lips, before he returned to meet her gaze.

“I would like to ask you to marry me, Leah Gunderson.”

His voice was solemn, his words slow and ponderous, as if he had thought long and hard before he made his offer. “I need someone to live at my place and care for my children. I want my daughter where she belongs, and my house shows neglect.”

Well, that was about the most honest proposal a woman had ever received, Leah decided. He hadn’t minced any words, just spelled it out and let it lay.

“I’m being offered a dirty house and two needy children. Am I right?” she asked quietly.

He shrugged, his wide shoulders moving almost imperceptibly as he lifted an eyebrow in response. “Perhaps I’m also making a way for you to clear your conscience, Mrs. Gunderson.”

“I bear no guilt, sir,” she said firmly, her mouth quivering as the pain of his words vibrated within her. She’d spent too many hours going over the events of that night to accept blame for the death of Hulda Lundstrom. “I did the best I could for your wife.”

“No matter,” he said, dismissing her words. “If you will come to my farm and be Leah Lundstrom, I will give you a place to live for the rest of your life. I will treat you well and never lay a hand on you in anger.”

“Well, that’s some offer,” she said smartly. “It’s not really what I had my heart set on, though.” Her voice mocked him, and she felt a pang of remorse as he dropped his gaze.

“It’s all I can propose,” he said after a moment. His hand lifted and swept the circumference of the room. “It will be better than this.”

“Once it gets cleaned up, perhaps.”

“It shouldn’t take you any time at all, as strong and healthy as you are, ma’am. You will even find a supply of potatoes in my dugout, ready for your use.” His mouth twitched as he reminded her of her need.

The sun from the window over her sink glinted on golden strands of hair as Garlan rose to his feet. It formed a nimbus around him, causing his hair to shine, as if the sun had taken up residence within each lock. Like a warrior from the olden days, he stood before her, long legs spread, wide shoulders and long arms husky with muscled strength.

Only the dainty form of his daughter lent a note of disparity to the picture. Her round face peered from his shoulder as she twisted to view Leah, unwilling to allow her to disappear from sight. And perhaps it was that smiling visage that turned the tables in Garlan Lundstrom’s favor.

“I thought you might ask me to be your housekeeper, Mr. Lundstrom,” Leah ventured. “I didn’t have in mind marriage at this late date. I will be thirty years old in a month.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think that should be a barrier, Leah. Thirty is not so old these days. I am thirty-four myself.”

“It’s different for a man,” she argued. “I’m too old to begin having children.”

His eyes grew chilled, the pale blue orbs turning to ice. “I did not ask for that. I have two children. I have had a woman in my bed. I did not find it rewarding to bring her to the childbed and watch her die. I’ll not take that risk again.”

So it was to be that way, Leah thought She would not know the touch of a man’s hands on her body in the act of loving. Her virgin flesh would know no ease from its aching need.

“You have been married, Leah. Can you honestly say you desire that attachment again?” he asked quietly. “It has been my experience that women do not seek out a bedding, but only endure such a thing in order to have children.”

She shook her head, not even aware of what she agreed or disagreed with. She’d never been wed, had only taken her mother’s maiden name and made it her own, so that she would not be despised as a maiden lady doing the work of a midwife. And now this man was telling her that she would not have the knowledge of his body atop her own, that he would not use her to create more children of his loins.

“Let me think about it, Mr. Lundstrom,” she said, proud of the steady quality of her words.

He turned to place Karen in her basket, his hands reluctant as he slipped them from her body. Then he faced Leah and offered her his hand, waiting till she met it with her own.

His palm was broad, warm and strong. His fingers enclosed hers in a firm grip. Not a handshake as men exchanged, but rather a clasping of hands, as if they sealed a bargain between them. Leah felt her fingers soak up the warmth of his, felt the pulsing of his heartbeat as her middle finger touched his wrist. The heat of his flesh encompassed her palm, spreading to her forearm and up to her shoulder. It met the frantic beat of her heart, and she knew a moment’s panic as that organ seemed to swell within her breast.

“I will call on you tomorrow, Leah,” he said, his words almost harsh in their intensity. She met his gaze as her hand slipped from his grasp, and she noted a flicker of emotion there. As surely as her name was Leah Gunderson, she knew that Garlan Lundstrom held something from her. He was not so forbidding suddenly, not so reserved.

“Bring the potatoes then,” she said pertly, and was not surprised when the flicker became a flame and his eyes warmed for a moment.

“Yes, I’ll do that.” His mouth was firm, his lips thinning as though he forbade them to speak further. He then turned from her and walked to the front door.

“I will come for my answer tomorrow afternoon.” With a nod of his head, which caused a lock of golden hair to brush against his forehead, he was gone.

Leah’s fingers itched to brush that errant lock back into place and she stifled the urge, clenching her hands at her waist as he turned back to look at her from the bottom of the porch steps.

“He doesn’t want a wife,” she muttered to herself. “He wants a housekeeper and someone to watch his children.” Her skirts swished around her ankles as she spun in place and marched back into the kitchen.

From the laundry basket, a squeal of delight greeted her, and Karen’s pudgy fingers waved a distracted welcome as she clutched a string of thread spools in one hand. As always, Leah’s heart melted at the sight, and she moved across the floor and knelt by the wicker basket.

“You are so tempting, sweet one,” she said, twining her fingers in the silky locks of hair that covered the baby’s head. “Between you and your brother, you are enough to steal my heart.”

The baby gurgled a response, and Leah bent to kiss the crown of her head. She rose, stepping to the sink to wash her hands before she got out her teapot for the promised visit from Eva Landers. The sun was almost blinding, brilliant in a vibrantly blue sky, and she blinked, shaking her head against the vision that rose in her mind.

He was there, as vivid as if he stood before her. Gar Lundstrom, tall and golden haired, a man of the earth, solid and dependable. A man who still despised her.

A man who could steal not only her heart, but her soul as well.

Chapter Four

“I will marry you, Garlan Lundstrom.” Leah spoke the words to her mirror and watched as a pink flush rose from her exposed throat to cover her cheeks. She peered closely into the looking glass, willing away the trembling of her hands as her fingers worked the top button of her dress into its buttonhole.

“I’ll marry you, Gar.” There, that was better. More casually spoken, more sincere. Her eyelids fluttered, and she leaned closer to seek the blue depths, groaning at the sparkle within. The man would think her dotty! This was to be a business arrangement, if she had heard him right. And now she blushed and simpered like a schoolgirl.

A sharp rap at the screen door broke her concentration, and she turned from the oval mirror that hung over her chest of drawers. At least he would not marry an ugly woman, she decided, and then chastised herself for vanity’s sake. Her skin was decent, her eyes a clear blue and her nose was only a trifle too long. Her mother had told her that her stubborn chin was troublesome, but then, that doggedness had stood her in good stead more than once.

The rapping increased, and Karen’s squeals of joy signified the sighting of her father through the mesh screening. “Leah! Are you there?” Gar Lundstrom’s voice was strident, and without awaiting her reply, he opened the door and entered her parlor.

She hurried to greet him. “I’m here,” she said, her breathing restricted by the rapid beating of her heart.

He looked up at her from his daughter’s side. Karen was clutching the edge of the basket, leaning toward her father, and Leah was struck by the babe’s fickle streak. Once Gar Lundstrom walked in that door, the rest of Karen’s world ceased to exist. Her lashes fluttered, her mouth cooed soft phrases that might sound like so much babbling to another, but to the man who watched her so dotingly, she was obviously sheer perfection. And in her innocence, she returned his regard a hundredfold.

Now he squatted beside her, one hand touching the crown of gold that curled in a silken cap over her perfect head. “I thought I heard you speaking, Leah. Is there someone here with you?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m alone. I find myself talking to Karen when I’m out of the room. It pleases her.” She held back a smile. Practicing her acceptance of his proposal would certainly please Garlan Lundstrom should he know. It would give him an edge she could not afford to allow. Better that she hold an upper hand in this.

He rose easily to his feet, and Karen let forth a blast of sound that brought a wide grin to his mouth. “Such lungs, little girl. You put your brother to shame!” He leaned over her and extended his hand. “Hush now. I must speak to your friend, Mrs. Gunderson.”

As if she understood, Karen sniffed and rubbed one tight fist against her eye, then smiled with delight.

“She’s flirting with you,” Leah said softly, totally taken with the child.

“And you?” he asked. “Do I get a smile from the Widow Gunderson today? Am I to hear an answer this morning?”

Such levity was almost unknown from the man who stood before her, and Leah’s tongue searched for a reply as she scanned his handsome features. Her head nodded after a moment and she shoved her hands into the deep pockets of her apron.

“Yes, I’ve thought about your offer, Mr. Lundstrom. I’m willing to marry you. It would be beneficial for me.”

“And for me,” he conceded. His gaze fell to the baby in the basket at his feet. “Not to mention my daughter. Kristofer, by the way, is waiting outside to hear your answer. He’s very anxious, Leah. You’ve quite a champion in my son.” The smile flashed again. “He likes your cookies.”

“He’s a wonderful boy.” Such inane words they shared, she thought. Speaking of children and a beneficial relationship, when all she wanted to hear was that she would finally be appreciated as a woman. And now she hadn’t even put to use all the posturing she had practiced before her mirror.

“Saturday next would work well for me. Do you have any objection?” Gar asked, his gaze firm on Leah’s face.

She nodded. “I can be ready by then. I’ll let my bachelors know. Mr. Dunbar will have to make other arrangements for the hotel linens, unless he wants to bring them out to your farm, and I doubt he’d be willing to do that.”

Gar shook his head. “You will find plenty to do there. Don’t even think about washing for the hotel. You’ve done your last laundry for the town bachelors, too, Leah.” His words were firm, decisive and not altogether welcome to her ears. Not that she craved the scrub board, but it was a decision she would have preferred to make on her own.

Her chin tilted and she almost smiled, recognizing the stubborn stance she was about to take. “I’ll let my clients know, but I have time enough and to spare for the rest of this week and next to earn the extra money, Mr. Lundstrom.”

He set his gaze on her, and the look was that of a stormy sea, his blue eyes turning almost gray as his mouth made a thin line across his face. “I will not argue with you over this, Leah. We are not married yet. But mark it well, once you promise to live with me and be my wife, you will listen when I tell you my wishes.”

She gritted her teeth against the words that begged to spew forth, settling for a more docile attitude than was her wont. “I expect to do as you wish in most things, Mr. Lundstrom. However, you’re not marrying a young, green girl. I’m a woman who has lived on her own for a number of years. I’m not a female who will cling and ask favors of a man. I’ll do my duty by your children and your house. And unless my memory is flawed, that’s what you told me you expected of me.”

His eyes narrowed on her. “I think we’ll come to an understanding eventually, ma’am. In the meantime, we’ll just have to work it out as we go.”

She was a magnificent specimen of womanhood, he decided. Standing tall, as if her spine were made of finest steel, yet only reaching his shoulder in height. She was a strong woman, carrying a graceful figure, with hair not quite golden, but, rather, streaked and honey colored. Her eyes were the true blue of her ancestors, her slender body well proportioned. And with that, he allowed his gaze to scan the length of her.

Her cheeks had turned more than rosy with his scrutiny and she pursed her mouth. “Do I pass muster, sir?”

His reply was slow in coming. So intent was he on the woman herself, he barely heard her sharp words of inquiry.

She held herself well, he decided, her breasts generous within the bodice of her dress. It fit her nicely, snug against the graceful line of her waist, then flaring gently over her hips.

“Mr. Lundstrom? Will I do?” Blue eyes flashed with irritation and her skirts flounced as she turned from him to walk across the room. His gaze was drawn by the serviceable boots that nudged the hem of her dress. She would do well with softer shoes for the house, he decided. He would have her fitted at the store before…

He watched her soberly now, his mind fixed on the time, only ten days hence, when they would marry. Perhaps she needed other things, new dresses maybe. With that thought in mind, he stepped closer to where she stood. “Will you go with me to Nielsen’s store next week, before the wedding?” he asked. “Whatever you need…I’ll pay for it.”

Her eyes widened at his words, and he watched as her chin tipped upward. A stubborn woman, if he knew anything about it. She would not take well to his ways, perhaps. There would have to be a time of building bridges between them.

“I don’t think so.” Her full, lush lips separated, opening as she spoke her denial of his offer. And then, from within, her tongue appeared, touching lightly against her top lip as he watched. The sight fascinated him, that tiny bit of flesh leaving a speck of moisture on her lip, then retreating within her mouth.

The urge to step closer to her assailed him and he fisted his hands at his sides, aware of a heated response deep within his belly. Such foolishness! She was a good woman with a clean reputation, and surely that was what he sought.

“I will provide my own necessities,” she said primly, jarring him from his contemplation.

“I would be pleased to buy you a dress for our wedding, Leah,” he said quietly. “And shoes, and whatever else you need.”

She shook her head. “No. I have money in the bank. I’ll not come to your house a pauper, Mr. Lundstrom. I only need a bedroom with a chest of drawers for my belongings and hooks on the wall for my dresses.”

He nodded, strangely pleased by her prideful behavior. She would serve him well. “I’ll be here on Sunday,” he said, his eyes scanning her again. She’d stepped back from him, and now her hands were clasped at her waist, and she looked the very picture of docile, dutiful womanhood.

Somehow, he doubted the veracity of that impression.

“But if you marry that Lundstrom fella, who will do my washing?” Brian Havelock stood at Leah’s door, bundle of laundry in his hands, and uttered his query with unknowing appeal. To Leah’s eye, he was a boy still. Had she been ten years younger, she might have bent forward and planted a kiss on his rosy cheek. Or ten years older, she amended.

“You know I depend on you, Leah,” he said piteously, his blue eyes sad beneath lowered brows.

“I’m sure Mrs. Pringle will be happy to take you on as a customer, Brian,” she said briskly, holding her fingers closed around the coins he had pressed into her palm.

“You’re wasting yourself on that man, Leah,” he told her firmly, stepping closer. “I’d make you a good husband. I have a steady job at the sawmill, and my house is almost built.”

Leah stepped back from him, easing inside the door into her parlor. Her voice was firm as she dashed his hopes although a twinge of pity nudged her tender heart. “I’m sorry, Brian. I told you last winter, I’m too old for you.”

He opened his mouth to speak and she waved him to silence. “Never mind! I’m set on the matter. I will marry Mr. Lundstrom on Saturday next. I’ll do your shirts on Monday, and that’s the last time.”

Her would-be suitor stepped backward, nearly falling from the porch as he nodded his agreement. “Yes, I understand.” Turning from her, he trudged up the path to her gate and she watched him go.

He would make a fine man for the right woman someday, she thought. Young and still wet behind the ears, he was like a puppy, all rosy cheeked and almost panting in his eagerness to please. Kirsten Andersen had missed a good bet when she married that man from the next county.

Swooping down to Karen’s basket, Leah lifted the baby high in the air, turning in a slow circle as she parodied a waltz across the floor. “You will live with your papa soon, little bird,” she sang tunelessly.