A Bride for Dwight, page 13
part #39 of The Proxy Brides Series
But Dwight! He had acted both proficiently and with heart-felt understanding as he had questioned Mrs. Swigert. He’ll make a fine lawyer someday. He’s so smart…and caring…
Recalling what the woman had said, that she had heard a horse galloping away, and the pulley chain swinging made her wonder…did someone try to kill Mr. Swigert? The thought made her shiver, and then shiver again as images of the night Hobbs had attacked her, knocked her down and sliced her leg with that wicked looking knife, came rushing to the fore of her mind.
Panic seized her heart and stopped her breath. Hobbs…could he have escaped jail? Could he have come back here for something, hid in the Swigert’s barn and Mr. Swigert caught him? What would he do if he saw her again…and what would he do if he knew that she carried his baby? The thought caused a rush of fear that almost brought her to her knees. He mustn’t find out, that no good, disgusting excuse for a man! Her hand had gone to her belly, cradling and caressing the tiny life protected therein. This baby is mine and I’ll protect him or her with every ounce of strength I have, to my last breath...I’ll…I’ll…ask Tobias to teach me how to shoot a gun if I have to…
“Mary, honey, you all right?” Wanda’s voice asked from close by, snapping her out of her unwanted musings.
She turned toward the concerned housekeeper, realizing she as well as the children were looking at her with wide, anxious eyes.
Taking a quick, deep breath, she plastered a smile on her face and answered, “Yes, of course. I was just thinking about having another cinnamon roll myself…that is, if there are any left?”
It had been a very long day—not only for Mary, but for everyone in the Reeves house. Mary had sent a message both to Charise and to Mr. Huber at the restaurant, letting them know that she wouldn’t be coming in to work, as she felt needed at the house to assist with the children.
Doc had operated on Mr. Swigert to fix the compound fracture. Then he had set and cast his other leg as well as the multiple breaks in his right shoulder, arm, and hand. There were other injuries as well, including broken ribs and a nasty gash on his head, which in Doc’s medical opinion was causing a concussion. Pronouncing the surgery and treatments a success, he stated he felt confident that, with proper care, the man would regain the use of his limbs. This, of course, was heaven-sent news to Mrs. Swigert, and her gratefulness was felt by everyone.
Dwight, Mary, Olivia, and Wanda had worked together that morning and managed to get the twins ready for school, even calming Benny down enough so that he felt all right with leaving his mother at the doctor’s office while Mr. Swigert was in surgery. Dwight had promised that a note would be sent to the school as soon as they had news. So, with that, the responsible, young man agreed to walk with the twins to the school on Second Street.
Doc did say that he felt strongly that Jay should not be moved for at least a few days, and that the family could stay with him if they chose. That first night, of course, the man’s wife would not leave him.
This, therefore, necessitated the scenario Mary and Dwight had known might happen. He would have to spend the night in her room.
Dinner had been pleasant. Helen Swigert had taken hers in the recovery room while watching over her husband, who still had not regained consciousness, but their children ate at the table with Doc and the others. It was so refreshing—after the misery of Elvira’s horde—to be around well-mannered children. Even the twins commented on the Fetterman youths, saying they ought to have been turned over their father’s knee and taught to behave.
Finally, one by one, each member of Doc’s household went up to bed—leaving Dwight and Mary straggling behind.
Once they reached her room and went inside, Dwight stayed by the door, hemming and hawing.
Mary glanced at him as she turned down her side of the bed.
“I’ll make a pallet and sleep over there,” Dwight offered, pointing to an open space near the wall that Mary knew wouldn’t have enough room for him to stretch out his nearly six-foot frame.
Mary had been thinking about their predicament for hours and couldn’t in good conscience allow her kind, thoughtful husband to sleep on the hard floor. She figured that by now she knew him pretty well and she didn’t think Dwight Christiansen was the type of man to take advantage of a situation like theirs.
Therefore, gathering her courage and hoping she wouldn’t sound forward, Mary turned toward him fully; only the twisting of her entwined hands betrayed her nervousness.
“Dwight…I have an idea. What if we sleep together—” she faltered when his eyes bugged out in surprise. “—I mean, um…what if we,” she held both hands up and sputtered, stopping again and taking a big, steadying breath. “What if we roll up your bedclothes into a big log and put it in the middle of the bed, like a wall. Then, you stay on your side, and I’ll stay on mine. Won’t that work?”
She met and held Dwight’s gaze, and then drew in another breath as his silence lengthened. She couldn’t read the expression in his eyes, but it was as if he were having a war within himself—she could almost see his thoughts ricocheting around in his head, and she wondered what it was that was causing his agitation.
Then, she saw him swallow and answer with a nod before he cleared his throat and mumbled, “If that’s all right with you.”
Relieved, she sent him an answering nod. “All right.” Working together, they soon had their makeshift log installed in the bed. Then, Dwight turned and sat down on his side of the soft barrier with one of his law books, seeming to become immediately engrossed.
Taking great care to stay behind the dressing screen in the opposite corner, Mary undressed for bed. She wished she could don her high-necked gown, but the weather was still quite balmy and so she opted for a thinner, but still modest, nightdress. Having taken a bath earlier, she simply washed her face at the washstand before cleaning her teeth and slipping around to her side of the bed to brush her hair, mumbling, “Your turn,” as she turned her back to her husband.
Listening intently, she tried to picture, according to the sounds he was making, what he was doing as he moved around. He hadn’t stepped behind the screen, so she kept her eyes closed as she counted her brush strokes. Once he had finished at the washstand, it was mere seconds before she felt the bed dip under his weight. Then, the bed moved again as he leaned toward the lamp on the night table and blew it out.
“Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred,” she murmured as she finished her task. She placed the brush on the table and leaned to blow out her lamp, plunging the room into darkness.
Turning, she carefully slipped between the sheets and tried to settle herself in the limited space that wasn’t taken up by the large roll.
“Goodness…it takes up a lot of room, doesn’t it,” she commented into the darkness.
Dwight didn’t move, but after a few moments, he answered with a quiet, “Yeah.”
They both lay there in silence. The only light, now that her eyes had adjusted, was a narrow moonbeam shining through the lace curtains. Moving her head slightly, she attempted to peer in Dwight’s direction, but all she could distinguish past the divide was a lump under the covers.
Nevertheless…she’d never been so aware of anyone in her life. It was as if, when he took a soft breath, she could almost feel it in her own lungs.
The sensation was downright discombobulating.
Minutes went by and finally, with a soft sigh, Dwight murmured, “Goodnight, Mary. Sleep well.”
“And you, Dwight,” she answered.
However, she wondered if she would be able to get any sleep at all, lying so close to such a handsome, desirable man—who just happened to be her husband.
Chapter 11
D wight flicked the reins against the horse’s rump and looked over at his wife as she sat primly beside him in Doc’s buggy.
It was a bright, pleasant, early-fall day and the thought occurred to him that things couldn’t be much better—in spite of spending a sleepless night in bed with his wife, separated by their makeshift bundling bolster that he had silently dubbed the Great Wall of China. He’d been fervidly aware of every breath she took and every move she made. Hours into the night, he had laid awake as he listened to Mary’s soft breathing—a sweet, cute kind of snore, which wasn’t a snore at all. It was endearing, and for some reason it made his heart turn to mush.
At one point, he had carefully sat up in the bed so that he could see over the top of the China wall and watch her as she slept. In repose, her lovely face was almost ethereal and bathed in moonlight. He’d noticed she unconsciously kept a hand on her belly, cradling the tiny life within. The sight made a strong emotion well up inside him—a feeling not unlike that of possessive protection, as if a mighty hand gripped his insides in a tight fist. He knew he would move heaven and earth to protect both of them from any and all harm…and he wished wholeheartedly that the baby she was carrying was…his.
At that moment, he realized he had fallen, lock, stock and barrel, for this girl who was his wife.
But oh, what problems that could generate. What if she didn’t feel stirrings toward him? What if she merely needs a man in her life to bring stability, and to give her baby a legal name? What if, in spite of a certain amount of attraction that she seemed to feel toward him—chemistry, for lack of a better word—her heart wasn’t engaged? What if, once the baby arrived, she smilingly repacked his things in his portmanteau, thanked him for his service, and showed him to the door? What would he do?
What would he do? Walk out the door a broken man.
But after his overactive imagination had finished delivering that opening argument, the budding lawyer inside him rose up and declared, “I object, Your Honor!” Just as the law of the land said a man was innocent until proven guilty, he was her husband until, and if, she turned him away. And until that time, all was fair in the cosmic law of love and war.
During the long, sleepless night, Dwight had determined he would woo his wife. He would court her, albeit surreptitiously, and make her fall in love with him. And then, as the last dregs of the dark night had waned, he had closed his eyes and prayed hard that this situation would, indeed, turn out to be the blessing he had originally believed it to be. And he prayed for God to help him in his quest…to soften his wife’s heart toward him.
Now, as they rode along, a feeling of contentment swept over him as he thought about how his life had changed in the month since he had come to Brownville.
He enjoyed working for David, and he still wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. He was actually studying to become an attorney—and David had complimented him several times on his aptitude, telling him that he will make a good lawyer. That was high praise in Dwight’s opinion, because he already revered his boss for his sharp mind, keen wit, and legal proficiency. The latter he found purely amazing. Their exhilarating daily discussions of cases and theories he was studying in the books were the highlights of his days.
Beyond the enjoyment of his job, he gloried in the fact that he was married to one of the sweetest young ladies he’d ever had the pleasure to know. Granted, they still weren’t married in every sense of the word, but… He knew deep down that Mary felt something for him. He could see it in her eyes and sometimes he’d catch her looking at him with a wistful expression, before she would quickly avert her gaze elsewhere.
Right now, she was softly humming a happy sounding tune as they rolled along the road.
Dwight smiled as he remembered his boss telling him that morning that Doc had asked if they would look into what happened regarding his patient. David then informed Dwight that he wanted him to ride out to the farms, in the vicinity surrounding the Swigert’s, and interview the residents to find out if they had seen anything suspicious the previous morning. Offhandedly, he’d also suggested Dwight take his bride along and perhaps enjoy a picnic lunch. They could make a day of it if they wanted, as he foresaw no need to rush back. In the recesses of his mind he suspected that David and Doc were in cahoots together in some sort of matchmaking scheme. If they were, he certainly wasn’t going to put up a fight.
Even as he suspected his boss had a soft spot for romance and was obviously trying to help Dwight and Mary’s get off the ground—and in the process unknowingly aid Dwight’s newfound intentions—Dwight had half-heartedly argued that interviewing possible witnesses should be the job of the sheriff. But David had brushed that aside, mumbling something about the sheriff having gone out of town and taken all but one deputy with him, namely Tobias, and he wouldn’t want to leave his post. Ah well, no one ever accused me of looking a gift horse in the mouth, no sir.
“It’s such a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Mary’s comment interrupted his thoughts as she tilted her head back and allowed the breeze to ruffle the loose tendrils of her hair, which had escaped the tight bun that she’d corralled it into that morning. This she’d done as he was getting himself dressed, and he had to admit it had felt so right, so…normal, to be waking up together, shyly telling one another good morning, and getting dressed simultaneously.
“Yes, it is,” he agreed, although his eyes were trained on her rather than the sky, and he was thinking about a different sort of beauty—quiet…soft…reserved…sweet...
It was a warm day and he had folded back the buggy’s leather canopy before they had set off on their trip. Mary turned and placed a hand on the large basket tied within the downed canopy frame behind their seat and let out a happy giggle. “Mercy me. I think Wanda Mae packed enough food to feed an army,” she tried to shake the basket, but could hardly get it to move.
He grinned at her playfulness, thinking how much he enjoyed hearing her laugh. Her smile was infectious, and he found he adored the twinkle in her sparkling sapphire eyes. “Yeah, maybe she figures, now that you’re not sick in the mornings anymore, that you need to start chowing down, eating for two and all.”
Her smile dimmed a little and he saw that her cheeks were turning a bit pink. “Yes, I suppose so,” she turned back around and stared off to the side.
Dwight felt like a heel. He hadn’t meant to embarrass her. He’d thought she would laugh and agree. Now, he didn’t know how to fix his faux pas. Idiot. Stupid idiot! Why’d you have to go and stick your foot in it, you big oaf…
They rode along in silence for a while as Dwight’s mind pored over ways to bring back the playfulness of earlier. Finally, Mary turned her head and he felt her watching his profile, but she only asked, “How much farther, do you think?”
He studied the landmarks David had given him. As they came around a bend in the road, they saw a lane leading to a farmhouse, with a weathered sign to one side that read, “Austin Farm.”
“Here’s the Swigert’s neighbor to the south. We’ll try them first.”
Mary said nothing as he turned the buggy into the wide dirt pathway. Soon, he pulled the reins to stop in front of an older, but fairly well-maintained farm house.
A man opened the door and stepped out onto the porch.
“Hello, Mr. Austin?” Dwight asked as he climbed out of the buggy and headed over to the door. The man answered with a cautious nod. Dwight reached him and stuck out a hand for the man to shake. It went ignored.
Clearing his throat in the awkward moment, Dwight offered, “Sir, my name is Dwight Christiansen and I work with Attorney David Mincer. I wonder if I might ask you a few questions.”
“Questions?” the man asked, leaning to see past Dwight to where Mary was waiting in the buggy.
“Yes, sir. First, have you heard about your neighbor, Mr. Swigert, having an accident yesterday morning?”
Mr. Austin looked concerned then and took a step closer. “No, I didn’t. Swigert all right? What happened?”
“Doc says he’s going to be fine, with plenty of rest,” Dwight answered, adding a few details of the man’s injuries.
“Dang shame, that. Do they know how it happened?”
“Well, that’s what I’m looking into,” Dwight explained. “It seems he fell out of the top of the barn, and his wife said she is sure she heard a horse gallop away just as she was running out to her husband. Tell me, did you see or hear anything unusual during that time? Anything at all?”
The man crossed his arms over his chest, one hand absently rubbing his chin as he thought about it. “Well…now that you ask…seems like I did. Saw a fella ridin’ he—” he paused and leaned to acknowledge Mary, “pardon, ma’am. Saw a fella ridin’ a horse flat out across that pasture there,” he gestured to the left. “Jus’ saw him for a second as he galloped by on a midnight black horse. I was comin’ in from the barn. Didn’t know him. Didn’t think nothin’ about it,” he added.
Dwight had pulled a small notebook from his jacket pocket and scribbled a note about the horse as he nodded. “Have you had anything happen lately, such as any vandalism, or theft? Anything missing at all?”
The man twisted his mouth to the side as he considered the questions. “Had a few eggs stole…and a chicken…and a good-sized hunk a’ meat outta the smokehouse, matter of fact.”
Dwight wrote it all down, thinking that a pattern was emerging, and if he didn’t miss his guess, he’d say it was the same man.
Only, at the Swigert farm, he was caught.
It had been a successful morning. Dwight had interviewed three families and had gained a few leads and missing pieces of the puzzle. Now, it was well past noon and Mary was feeling quite hungry.
Glancing over at her handsome escort, she asked, “Do you think we might stop and have that picnic now?”
