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"But if she loved a farrier, you can bet she would have. She's just trying to be a banker's wife."
Annie thought long and hard about that statement. If Diana had loved a rancher or a miner or a logger, she undoubtedly would have thrown her whole self into that kind of life-just as Annie had. "Do you believe that Burdy? Do you believe it was an accident that could have happened to anyone?"
"I do. And I think Luke's blaming himself as much as you blame yourself right now. He told our father he accepted the responsibility for taking you away from your safe environment and letting this happen."
"Oh, pooh!" Annie said. "Isn't that just like him to take the blame himself in order to spare me?"
"He's hurting, too, Annie. Think about that."
"I have. And I've decided he's better off without me."
"Right," he said. "Let him hurt alone. Let him grieve for both of you. Poor Annie," he said, getting up. "Poor, helpless Annie." And with that he walked down the stairs and strode across the yard.
His words of mocking pity stung. Annie considered all of Burdell's words in the days that followed. Alone in her room one afternoon, she took a good clear look at her situation. She had been feeling sorry for herself, taking the blame for something that couldn't have been prevented, and in doing so she was throwing away the best thing that had ever happened to her. How could she have let herself fall into this river of self-centered despondency? Luke had lost a son, and she had walked out on him.
Let him hurt alone. Let him grieve for both of you. He had buried their child alone. Had reverently wrapped the tiny lifeless infant in a soft pretty blanket sewn by Annie's hands, dug a grave, said a prayer and cried all by himself.
Annie slid from her chair to her knees beside the window seat and sobbed out her grief and shame and regret. When had she become this spineless traitor who let her husband bear their burdens alone?
Every day after that she got out of her chair and exercised her aching body, strengthening her legs and her resolve. When Charmaine came to call, Annie surprised her by asking her to drive her to the livery.
Charmaine clapped her gloved hands cheerfully. "Oh, you've come to your senses! Are you ready? Do you want your chair?"
"No. Just hold my hand."
Charmaine a.s.sisted her into the wagon, climbed up beside her, and guided the horse through the streets. The ring of the hammer met their ears before they ever saw the building. Charmaine stopped the wagon in front of the open double doors. She jumped down and helped Annie to the ground. "Want me to walk with you?"
"No. Wait here, please." Annie gathered her courage and her hem and limped into the shaded building, following the hammering back into the humid depths, toward the forge.
He stood silhouetted against the blaze of the fire, turned without seeing her and held long tongs which gripped a horseshoe into the flames. Reaching up, he pumped the bellows, the muscles across his bare shoulders rippling and s.h.i.+ning.
Annie drank in the sight of him. He was leaner than he'd been before last winter, before she'd lost the baby and deserted him. He did everything alone now, with no one to cook for him-to do his laundry-to rub his shoulders at night.
Turning back, he placed the horseshoe against the anvil and pounded. Annie resisted covering her ears, instead let the punis.h.i.+ng ring fill her senses. After several blows, Luke inspected his work, then plunged the shoe into a bucket of cold water.
Hissing steam rose around his torso.
Annie let her hand fall from her breast, and the movement must have caught his eye, because he looked up. He seemed startled to see her there, finally setting down the shoe and the tongs and coming forward. "Annie?"
Chapter Seventeen.
He grabbed a rag and wiped his hands and face.
"h.e.l.lo, Luke."
"What are you doing here?"
"I came to see you." Now that she was here, she didn't know quite what to say. He was covered with soot and perspiration, but he looked so good and familiar, she wanted to grab him and hold him. "How have you been?"
"All right."
"And the house?" This felt silly. I'm sorry! I've been so wrong! "How are things there?"
"I haven't been there for a while. Several weeks actually."
She hadn't known that. "You've been staying where-here?"
He wiped sweat from his hair, making it stand up in ebony spikes. "It's easier for me."
"Oh. Are you-do you want to live there again?" With me, was what she meant. Can we start over?
"I think things are probably better this way," he said. "I was away too much. I can't erase anything that happened before...but I can make sure you're safe now. I want to help take care of you...send money."
"I don't need your money." I need you!
He stiffened. "I'll send it anyhow. You're my responsibility."
"Is that all I am now? A responsibility?" What about wife? What about lover?
"No."
They stared at each other. The heat from the forge had begun to seep through her clothing.
"It's because of me that you were hurt," he said finally. "Because I was so determined to make things work my way, in my time. I was a fool. I pushed you too hard."
Pushed her too hard? Or expected her to be someone she couldn't be? Did he think he was a fool for ever wanting her in the first place? "So, you're sorry," she said. "Sorry you married me."
She turned and limped from the room, wis.h.i.+ng she could run gracefully, wis.h.i.+ng she didn't humiliate herself at every turn.
"Annie!"
She kept going, her heart aching with his rejection. Charmaine met her outside the doors. "What's wrong? What did he say? What happened?"
"Nothing," she said, wanting to cry, but not wanting to do it here. "Just help me up and get me away from here."
"Okay." Her cousin obeyed as quickly as she could, a.s.sisting Annie and shaking the reins over the horses' backs.
Annie didn't look back.
Nothing was the same as it had been before Luke. No longer was she satisfied to be the doted-upon daughter. Nor was anything the same as it had been since Luke-or since they'd lost their hopes. She couldn't go back to either life, so what was left?
Charmaine helped her down from the wagon and Annie made her own way into the house, through the doorway and to her room. Burdell had told her she was feeling sorry for herself, and she'd taken that to heart and tried to help herself. But now Luke seemed to think she was better off here than with him-how could he think that? Didn't he know? Didn't he care?
She sat abruptly on the window seat, glanced aside and observed the row of angelic-faced porcelain dolls. Here she was back in the bosom of her family, back in this room, back in her chair like a pretty, useless, lifeless doll!
Angry at Luke, angry at life and at her helplessness, she lashed out and swept a doll from its resting place and smashed it against the floorboards. Another followed and another, until only two remained, staring at her as though they knew how crazy and helpless she really was. Turning, she kicked the lifeless broken bodies across the floor.
"Annie!" Her mother appeared in the doorway, Charmaine on her heels.
"Go away!" Annie flung herself on the bed and cried tears of frustration and anger. "Leave me alone!"
Charmaine backed out of the room, but Mildred came to stand beside her bed. "I'll leave you alone after I've had a word with you."
"Oh, Mother, please, what could you say that you haven't said already?"
"Maybe that you need to pick yourself up and decide what you want out of life." She stuffed a scented handkerchief into Annie's fist. "You were happy before, Annie. Don't let anything stop you from getting what you want. Even if it's him." Her lip curled a little at the p.r.o.noun.
Annie wiped her eyes and nose. "Are you telling me to go after my husband?"
Her back was straight and her eyes didn't quite meet Annie's, but Mildred spoke the words all the same. "I'm telling you to live your dream."
The door closed behind her a moment later.
Annie curled on her side and thought about her dream.
After Charmaine had gone, after Annie heard the sound of the stove lids clanking in the kitchen, she pulled herself together and went to her writing desk. She pulled out a piece of paper and uncorked the ink. She hadn't given up. Not by a long shot.
Dear Luke, You taught me courage when I was afraid. You showed me I could do things I only dreamed of. You gave me confidence to stand up and walk in front of people without shame. Which one of us is the cripple now? Who was hiding behind their fear today? You are cordially invited to my birthday celebration. I think you know the day-and the place.
With love,
Annie
She found Glenda wiping the kitchen floor. "Glenda, will you please do me a favor?"
"Of course. Are you all right?"
"I am now. Will you please deliver this to my husband at the livery?"
Glenda took the letter with a smile.
"Oh, and these-" she extended the two remaining dolls "-are for Gwen and Gerta."
"They'll love them. Thank you."
Five days later, on the day of Annie's birthday, the sky was a vivid blue. Fleecy white clouds hung above the mountains in the distance, but the air here was clear and clean.
"You surprised me by wanting a birthday party," her father said, tucking her hand in the crook of his arm and leading her across the verdant lawn. "I'm glad you're feeling up to it."
"Actually, it was Mother who convinced me."
"Your mother?" he asked in disbelief.
"Well, not in so many words, of course, but because she got me to thinking about the rest of my life."
Friends and neighbors arrived, Burdell and Diana and their family, the Renlows, Lizzy and Guy, even Dr. Martin and Glenda's family. Annie had invited Luke's Uncle Gil, and he surprised her by showing up wearing the s.h.i.+rt she'd made him, with Mrs. Krenshaw, the librarian, on his arm.
Burdell set up the croquet hoops and Annie tried her hand at the game for the first time. She enjoyed herself, but underneath the surface was the underlying question of whether or not Luke would come. She was working on not worrying when the crowd grew quiet. Turning to observe the source of their attention, she saw the rider stop at the gate and dismount.
Tall and handsome, black hair s.h.i.+ning in the sunlight, Luke opened the gate and walked forward. Annie's heart hammered and welcoming joy spread through her like a healing balm. She took a few steps to meet him, then a few more.
She met him halfway, a giddy bubble expanding her chest.
"Happy Birthday, Annie," he said.
"Thank you."
"I have presents for you."
She glanced at his empty hands. "Where are they?"
"Want me to take you to them?"
Wrangler placidly munched gra.s.s along the fence. "Go for a ride, you mean?"
"Uh-huh."
"All right."
He took her hand and led her out the way he'd come, out the gate, then walked her all the way to the flower cart at the edge of the yard and helped her on the horse's back. He climbed up behind her.
"Where are we going?"
"Home."
Her heart leaped with joy at the words. She turned and waved at her family who were all watching. They returned the wave, even her mother.
Luke wrapped his strong arms around her and Annie leaned into him, feeling safe and protected within his embrace. The horse moved beneath them, nudging Luke's chin against her hair. Could he forgive her? Could she make it up to him for allowing him to suffer their loss without her?
Their home came into view, a thin curl of smoke trailing from the rock chimney. Instead of leading the horse to the house, Luke led him to a gra.s.sy area on the hillside above, tethered him and lifted Annie down. Annie noted something colorful spread on the ground and several items hidden beneath blankets.
"What is this?" she asked.
"A private birthday party," he replied. "Look, I bought you a rug."