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Cinda's Surprise Page 4
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Lucas drew in a deep breath. “Cindy.”
She cringed slightly at the mispronunciation of her name. Her whole life she had corrected people on her name.
“I feel like I know you fairly well from your letters.”
She knew him a little, too, through his letters that she had read three more times last night. It was evident he worked hard, loved God, family, and his land.
“I think we should talk about the arrangements. . .for the wedding, I mean.”
Cinda bit her bottom lip. He had done it now. She couldn’t avoid it any longer. He sounded as uncomfortable as she felt. What should she say? “Yes, I suppose we should” fell out of her mouth. Her knees went soft and she hoped they didn’t give out on her before she reached Allison’s.
“I’ll find a minister for this afternoon. . .if that’s all right with you?”
“No!” This afternoon definitely was not all right. “I mean,” she took a moment and a deep breath to calm herself, “the ministers are usually very busy on weekends.”
“I suppose we can wait until Monday if we have to,” Lucas said. “I was hoping to be on our way home by Monday.”
Home? “You may not be able to get anyone until Tuesday.” The longer she put it off, the more time she had to think.
He stopped her on Allison’s lawn and said, “You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”
Since she never agreed to marry him in the first place, she could honestly say no. “No, I haven’t changed my mind.”
He walked her up to the door. Cinda hoped he wouldn’t stay; she couldn’t very well talk about him to Allison with him there. He knocked on the door.
Allison answered the door and her usual friendly smile broadened. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Swan. I hope you’re feeling better this morning,” Lucas said, removing his hat.
“Much better, thank you. A good night’s sleep was all I needed.” Her eyes flitted back and forth between Lucas and Cinda.
“I’m glad to hear that.” He turned to Cinda and said, “I’ll see you here later then.”
Cinda nodded with a forced smile, and he was gone.
The two women sat in the parlor. “You seem to be getting along fine with Mr. Rawlings.” Allison still smiled, quite pleased. “Last night, now early this morning, and he’ll see you later. I take it things are going well with you two.”
“It’s awful. He’s going to make arrangements with a minister.” Cinda’s voice cracked as she spoke.
“Then I take it you didn’t tell him the truth?”
“I sort of told the truth,” Cinda confessed. “I told him I hadn’t changed my mind.”
“Giving him the impression you are going to marry him.”
“Allison, I know when I was younger I thought I could only be happy if I married and had children, but I have realized since then I can be happy by myself as well.”
“I know you can, but isn’t this an answer to your prayers?” Allison asked.
“I never prayed for this.” Cinda’s anguish painted every syllable. “I can’t. I don’t know how to be a wife. I can’t even cook. What did Vivian and Eve tell him about me? Do you think he knows I can’t cook?”
“You can learn.”
“Who will teach me? Mr. Rawlings? I can’t very well ask him to teach me to cook. He’s expecting me to be the one who can cook.”
“You’re smart. You’ll learn.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Remember when Mrs. Pennywell had her baby? You went over and helped her with the housekeeping and her other three children while she was gaining her strength back. And what about Miss Stern? She was sick for nearly three weeks, and you took over her schoolroom. I believe her comment was ‘If I’m not careful, Cinda Harrison, you’ll steal my job right out from under me.’ She was glad she had someone dependable and competent to call on. You didn’t know what you were doing those times either. There are a number of other times you have helped out in a pinch. I don’t believe there is anything you couldn’t do. You always seem to rise to the occasion.”
“That was different. I already knew those people. This is permanent.”
Allison shook her head. “I thought I knew David well before we married. We grew up together, but I find out more and more about him all the time. The more I find out, the more I realize I don’t know.”
Allison’s words did nothing to settle Cinda’s anxiety.
Later, Vivian and Eve showed up to find out what had happened the previous night. The four women were chatting out on the porch when David returned home.
“I can’t go through with it,” Cinda said.
“Go through with what?” David asked.
“Marrying Lucas.” Eve answered for her and giggled.
Eve sounded so chipper about this whole thing. After all, she wasn’t the one expected to uproot herself and move hundreds of miles away and perform tasks she had never done before. He would find out and be angry with her. “I can’t. I just can’t.”
“If you don’t want to marry him, don’t. I would be happy to break the news to Mr. Lucas Rawlings.” David normally didn’t like to speak on someone else’s behalf, but since his wife was partly responsible, even in a small way, he would step in if Cinda wanted him to.
“Oh, David,” Allison said.
Cinda wrung her hands in her lap. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You had better decide quickly because here comes Prince Charming,” Vivian said.
David looked across the lawn at Lucas then back at Cinda. “Do you want to marry him?” His tone was urgent.
She pressed her teeth into her bottom lip. She wasn’t sure what she wanted anymore. “No,” she said, “I don’t think so.”
David bounded off the porch and stopped Lucas from coming any farther. “You are not welcome here.”
Lucas took a controlled breath. “I’m here to see Miss Harri-son. She’s expecting me.”
“She doesn’t want to see you—ever again.” The emphasis David put on “ever again” carried an unmistakable message.
The two men glared at each other for several minutes, then Lucas looked up at Cinda on the porch. She diverted her gaze, unable to look him in the eye. Lucas turned and walked away.
On her way home, Cinda couldn’t stop worrying about whether or not she had done the right thing. She wrapped and rewrapped the end of her shawl around her hand. Mr. Rawlings was never ill-mannered and his intentions were honorable. She feared he might insist upon seeing her when David sent him away, but he left without making a scene. A scene David probably wanted. Why was David so itchy to get in a fight with a man so much bigger than himself?
Near her home, she saw Lucas Rawlings leaning casually against a tree, watching her approach. Her heart lurched up in her throat, and she came to a sudden halt. Had he really waited all this time for her? She continued walking slowly, not looking at him. When she was almost to him, he said, “Mr. Swan said you don’t want to see me. I assume that means the wedding is called off?” His voice was level and calm, controlled.
Cinda stopped and sunk her head lower. “I–I’m sorry. I–I can’t marry you.” She nearly choked on each word. He said nothing. What must he be thinking? Is he mad at me? She inched her gaze up until she met him eye to eye. He didn’t look mad, only disappointed and maybe hurt. She regretted her tactlessness.
“I thought you were the right woman. Obviously, I was mistaken.”
A sudden pang inside her made her want to be that right woman. He turned and walked away without saying another word.
How could she have hurt the poor man? He had been kind and gentlemanly. She in turn cut his heart out. Tears burned Cinda’s eyes as she ran into the house.
six
“I saw you out there with him again.” Her aunt’s curt words stung. “Don’t tell me there is nothing. Twice yesterday and then twice again today. He’s got designs on you. You shouldn’t encourage the likes of him.”
Cinda
wanted to ignore her aunt and go to her room, but her aunt was insulting an innocent man. It wasn’t his fault. She turned to face her aunt. “What do you mean the likes of him? There is nothing wrong with. . .Lucas.” She felt funny using his first name when she hardly knew the man, but she did it to irritate her aunt. “And I’m not encouraging him.”
“Lucas is it now,” Aunt Ginny said with shock in her voice. “If that isn’t encouraging a man, being so familiar with him, I don’t know what is.”
“Yes, Lucas.” Cinda swallowed hard, then blurted out, “He’s my—fiancО.”
“FiancО!” Her aunt glared at her. “Then there has been something going on and for sometime, I would say.”
“We’ve been corresponding for months, and he has now come to marry me. You have no say about it.” Cinda had no idea why she was saying such things. She wanted her aunt to see she couldn’t run her life entirely.
“I have plenty to say about it.” Aunt Ginny perched her balled fists on her hips. “Your father would be very disappointed in you, sneaking around like this.”
“I’m not sneaking around, and you leave my father out of this. You have no idea what he would think.” She hated it when her aunt mentioned her father. She did it to get Cinda to do what she wanted her to do. Not this time.
“You don’t think he would actually approve of that. . .that giant?”
Cinda walked across the room and said tersely, “He’s just the kind of man my father would have chosen for me. He’s a hardworking farmer, conscientious, and a perfect gentleman, too.” In fact, Cinda thought him a lot like her father.
“Gentleman!” Her aunt shook her finger in the air as she spoke. “A true gentleman would never wear such an ill-fitting suit. He may have a few manners but no real sophistication. Your father was a true gentleman, and I know he would never—”
Cinda turned on her aunt, leveling her gaze. “My father was a caring, forgiving man who saw the good in people, who could see the good in anybody—even you.” Her sharp tone surprised even herself.
“Your father spoke kindly of me?” Aunt Ginny’s voice suddenly became soft.
Cinda noticed the change in her aunt but ignored it because of her own anger. “Of course. He never had a bad word to say about anyone.”
After a moment, her aunt took a quick breath. “I still don’t think he would approve of this Mr. Rawlings.”
“You know nothing about Lucas, but you can easily judge him.” Cinda shook her head and turned to leave the room.
“Well, you can’t think much of him or you would have mentioned him before now. You must be embarrassed by him. Why else wouldn’t you have introduced him to your uncle and me? I don’t believe one word of this, not one word,” her aunt called to Cinda’s back.
“Believe what you like, you will anyway,” Cinda shot back over her shoulder as she ascended the stairs.
Cinda closed herself in her room and ignored her aunt’s knock at suppertime. Her stomach churned with misgivings, and she didn’t have the vigor for another round with her aunt. She wanted to be alone.
She flitted from the dresser, to the window, and over to her writing desk, finally landing on the edge of the bed. As quickly as she sat down, she was up again making the rounds.
This was all Vivian’s and Eve’s doing. They were the ones who got Lucas and her mixed up in this. She felt sorry for Lucas Rawlings. He hadn’t asked for their cruel joke. They hadn’t meant for it to be cruel, but it had turned out that way. He believed every word they wrote and got caught in the snare with Cinda. Eve might have done it for the sheer thrill, but Cinda believed Vivian actually wanted to help. But Lucas Rawlings was innocent in all this. He had been led along and ended up with nothing. Cinda could give him one thing—the truth. It was the least he deserved.
If he really was in such a hurry, he would probably be on the first train he could catch. There was no reason for him to stick around now. She would have to go tonight before he left town, if he wasn’t gone already. She whisked down the stairs.
“It’s about time you came down,” her aunt called out to her before she could reach the door. “I want you to tell your uncle what you told me this afternoon. He won’t like it any better than I, and don’t expect him to believe you either. Go on, tell him.”
“Ginny,” her uncle said, “if you want Cinda to tell me something, hush up so she can speak.”
“You won’t believe it, I tell you.” Her aunt paused briefly. “Well, go on and tell him, or are you too ashamed?”
“Virginia! Not one more word from you until Cinda has spoken.”
Ginny pinched her lips together.
Cinda looked from her aunt’s accusing face to her uncle’s kind, gentle face. He waited patiently until she had her thoughts collected and was ready to speak. “What Aunt Ginny is talking about is. . .” She hesitated. Where should she start—with Mr. Rawlings himself or with Vivian and Eve?
“The gentleman caller you had yesterday?” he asked when Cinda had trouble continuing.
“And today. He called again—” Her aunt stopped short when Uncle Barney shot her a look of reproof.
Cinda, too, had looked at her aunt but now she turned back to her uncle. “Yes, the gentleman caller. His name is Lucas Rawlings. He has a farm in Montana.” Cinda tried to keep her tone even, unsure of how to say everything. She knew her aunt wouldn’t let her get away before she had told him the whole story.
“Montana? He’s a long way from home. What’s he doing way out here?” her uncle asked. “Does he have business in town?”
Cinda looked over at her aunt. She had a smug look on her face. Cinda took a deep breath and turned back to her uncle. “He came to see me.” Cinda dropped her gaze to the floor. “To marry me.”
“Cinda? Why would Mr. Rawlings come all this way to marry you?” Her uncle’s words were filled with shock and concern.
“We’ve been corresponding, sort of.”
“You’ve been writing back and forth, and now he has come to ask you to marry him without consulting with me?” Her uncle’s tone wasn’t one of anger but rather concern.
“Not exactly.” Cinda nervously told her uncle about the letters and Vivian’s and Eve’s part in the whole thing.
“I knew there was more to this than you were letting on,” Aunt Ginny said, then shut her mouth and folded her hands primly in her lap.
“So you’ve decided to marry him?” her uncle asked.
“I don’t know what to do, Uncle Barney.” Cinda looked at her uncle, almost pleading for the answer. “I don’t think I want to marry him, but I feel awful he came all this way for nothing. It’s not right what they did to him.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I think I should tell him the whole truth before he leaves. He at least deserves that.” She didn’t sound convinced.
Maybe she just wanted to see him one last time. She felt a little sad at the thought of never seeing him again. She felt a tugging, a longing where he was concerned. Now that she had had a chance to catch her breath, this was kind of exciting, like something she might read in a book. He was a nice, Christian man and deserved a good wife, whoever she was.
“Honesty is always best. Do you want me to walk you over?” her uncle said, offering to give Cinda a little courage.
“No. It’s not far. I can manage by myself. I need to think about what I’m going to say.”
“She can’t go by herself,” Ginny scolded.
Cinda was exasperated with her aunt and spoke curtly, “Of course I can. I’m a grown woman, not a child.”
“Ginny, leave her be,” Barney said.
Cinda swung her cape around her shoulders and caught a glimpse of her aunt’s critical glare.
Cinda marched down the street. The gall of her aunt telling her what to do. Cinda was twenty-three years old. By most, she was considered an adult, but her aunt insisted on treating her like a child, telling her what she could and couldn’t do, what to wear, and how to stand. As the th
ought crossed her mind, Cinda purposefully slouched. She had had it with her aunt; she would like to do something to prove to her aunt she was in control of her own life. She should run off and marry Mr. Rawlings, a stranger, just to show her aunt.
The more she thought about it, the more it appealed to her. She would have her own life then and do what she wanted. She could get out from under her aunt’s thumb. It would be just her and Lucas. She would be far from her meddling aunt, though Cinda would miss her uncle. Cinda liked the idea, getting away from her aunt and caring for a man who maybe loved her, someone with whom she could possibly fall in love one day and build a life.
Was she crazy? Marry a stranger?
Other women had done it. Why not her?
No, the idea was absurd.
She prayed for him as she walked, that he would not be too angry with her and for the Lord to send him the right woman to be his wife.
Maybe she could think of someone suitable for him, so his trip wouldn’t be a waste. Eve certainly was interested, but she didn’t think Eve was his type. What was his type? The images of her unmarried friends and acquaintances skipped through her mind. None seemed right.
Not only did she feel a pang of jealousy when she unsuccessfully tried to picture him with someone else, but when she prayed she got the distinct impression she should be the one to go with him. If he left without her, she would be thwarting God’s plan.
What a ridiculous notion. God might work in mysterious ways, but there was no mystery about this. It was Vivian’s and Eve’s doing. And it was downright odd. That’s how she felt. . .odd.
She turned and headed for Allison’s. A talk with her would straighten out her turbulent emotions.
❧
“I mean, it is a good thing that he was willing to come and all,” Cinda said, fidgeting with her skirt folds. “He has that big farm to run and all those animals to look after. It must be a lot of trouble to find someone to look after things.”