"You know that's not what Wendy's upset about." Harlan studied him as if he were sifting through Rodd's soul for truth. "Wendy has to learn to see herself as a child of God, separate from her family. After all her mother's problems, she's had trouble trusting men. That's easy to understand. But you have to make her see that she can trust you and that you trust God. If you don't, you're going to wind up a lonely, spiritually stunted man. And that's what your Uncle George would tell you if he were standing here right now." Harlan turned and started down the ladder.
Rodd stood with the pitchfork in his hands. Below, Harlan and Zak exchanged places. Harlan began pumping while Zak splashed his hands in the water going down the sluice. The old pump squeaked. The cold water gushed and the little boy squealed.
Rodd closed his eyes, drinking in the sounds of having others in the bam with him. He watered the cattle and fed them daily—but he worked alone. Always alone. Raised alone by a dad and an uncle. Always alone at his job, even with a partner beside him. His loneliness had prompted him to leave Milwaukee. He'd felt at home here on his family's land But even here he was alone, holding everyone at arm's length. Did he want to live alone—without Wendy, without a family?
No. He wanted Wendy in his life.
Lord. I've tried to do everything on my own. Without Wendy, I might have gone into the icy water on Hunter's Lake. I might have died. Elroy might have gotten away
. He paused to draw a deep breath.
Lord. I love Wendy. And I want her as my wife. Help me find a way hack to her. I don't know how to break through the barrier she's put up between us. Help me persuade her that she stands apart from her family. I'm going to turn this over to you completely. Just remember I love her. Give me the key to her heart, I pray.
When he opened his eyes, he felt refreshed, hopeful. He finished forking over the hay, then climbed down the ladder.
Zak greeted him at the bottom. "Can I climb up the ladder?"
Rodd smiled at Zak. "Sure. But first we have to give the cows some special feed. They're all going to give birth, starting soon—"
"Now?" Harlan countered. "When did you have them bred?"
"Too early, but I couldn't get on the vet's breeding schedule anytime later in the summer. I shouldn't have any calves until February, but a few of these old girls look like it could happen any day."
"Can I see a calf get borned?" Zak jumped up, grabbing Rodd's outstretched arm, then swinging back and forth on it.
Holding his arm stiff to let the boy play, Rodd said, "If it's all right with your parents. Now let's get the feed. You can measure out each portion."
"Wow. Wait till I tell my dad!"
Rodd's smile broadened. His heart lifted.
Father, please help move Wendy's heart to love me as I love her.
Chapter Twenty
Ten days after New Year's Eve, Wendy got out of the pastor's van and walked toward Rodd's barn through the bright but deceivingly cold afternoon sunshine. A call from Rodd, just a half hour ago, that one of his cows was in early labor had brought an instant response from Zak. He was invited to come, and everyone, including Wendy, who was visiting with Penny, had to go and see the birth, too. So now Penny, with the baby in her arms, and Bruce, carrying the pink gingham diaper bag, trailed after Wendy and Zak.
The bright sunshine made Wendy squint and shade her eyes with one hand. Zak tugged her along to hurry her, his small mittened hand gripping her free one. "Come on, Wendy. The calf might get borned before we get there."
In spite of her reluctance, Wendy picked up her pace. She wouldn't do anything to spoil Zak's delight. Besides, most of her wanted to see Rodd. The past few days had brought healing for her. After Sage had confronted her, Wendy had returned to work. The people of the town wonderfully demonstrated their support for her. And for once, Veda's nastiness had been soundly shouted down wherever she had tried to voice it. Wendy knew about that because her patients all delighted in reporting that the bully of Steadfast had been put down.
And each day, Rodd had called her trailer. She'd listened to his phone messages over and over, needing to hear his voice but unable to return his calls. She couldn't face him. She yearned to see him, but the yearning was too sharp, nearly painful. She'd admitted to herself not only that she wanted to fall in love, but that she had in fact fallen—deeply and truly—in love with Rodd Durand. But she needed time to take it all in. It was all so fragile, tender, oversensitive like new skin. And maybe she'd realized all this too late.
But Zak's insistent invitation had rushed her ahead. Now, nearing the barn, the little boy dropped her hand, pushed open the door, and charged inside. Still hesitating, Wendy ducked in, then turned back and held the door for Bruce and Penny. "Go ahead," Bruce said.
Wendy turned around and there stood Rodd, looking at her. The look on his face made her lower her eye.
Zak ran back and grabbed her hand, tugging on it. "Come on, Wendy. I know which cow it is. Rodd told me." He pulled her forward right into Rodd. Her breath caught; she couldn't inhale.
Rodd reached down and took Zak's hand from hers. "Don't be in such a hurry, little guy." He chuckled.
His laughter, as he stood so close, vibrated through her. She remembered the last time they'd been here together—Christmas Day, that crystal morning on their snowmobiles—and their kiss as they'd gazed at Hunter's Lake—
"Come on." Zak urged, interrupting.
Wendy moved forward in the dimly lit barn, so cozy after the chill outside.
Rodd took her arm and walked at her side. He murmured, "I'm glad to see you."
His words sent shivers of joy through her. She nodded but couldn't meet his eyes. Hope bubbled in her like the vibration of laughter, sparkling up from deep inside. She tried to cap it, control it—impossible.
"Zak, I have the cow over here in a birthing stall,'' Rodd told the little boy. "It shouldn't be long. I called the vet, but he said everything sounded like it was going right." Rodd's excitement colored his voice.
"This is your first calving since you bought stock, isn't it?" Wendy asked, feeling as shy as if they were strangers, yet longing to lean closer to him.
"Yes, I had forgotten how exciting a calving can be."
Her eyes met his silver blue ones and skittered away. There was too much emotion inside her—she couldn't make herself calm down. How could she behave as though nothing had changed? Everything was different—in her heart.
Zak stood on tiptoes and hung over the railing of the stall. "When do I get to see the calf? Is it really in the mama cow's tummy?"
To steady herself, Wendy tried to take a deep breath a little at a time, so no one would notice her excitement.
Rodd ruffled the little boy's hair. "That's right, Zak. And remember, some blood will come out with the calf. That's just natural—"
"I know!" Zak interrupted. "We all got blood in us! Old Doc told me that. I'm not scared."
The cow bawled loudly at them and tossed her head as if they were annoying her. Rodd chuckled again.
And the chuckle danced through Wendy, nearly lifting her off her feet.
Zak laughed and began talking to the cow. "Hi. I'm here to see your baby get borned. We got us a new baby that the sheriff saved from a fire."
Gathering her nerve, Wendy looked up at Rodd, so full of life and handsome, standing so close beside her. He made her feel very feminine. "The story about your saving the baby is the talk of the town. I'm so glad you were there to save her."
Rodd hung his head. "I wish I'd suspected the car might explode. I would have tried to get the parents out—"
Wasn't that just like him? "Harry said it sounded like their gas tank had had a tiny crack in it already, and the impact made it that much worse," she pointed out. "You saved the one you could. That's what counts."
For the first time since the accident, Rodd felt a beginning of healing. He recalled Wendy's explanation about their making life-and-death calls. Wendy would understand the weight he carried. As a nurse, she'd accepted the same heavy responsibility. His tenderness toward her expanded inside him.
Lord, you've brought her here. Help me find a way to show her how I feel.
The baby in Penny's arms sneezed. Everyone smiled. The other cattle in their stalls moved restlessly, waiting too. The cow bawled long and hard as a baby calf slid out onto the fresh hay.
"It's the calf. It got borned." Zak bounced up and down; then he jumped into his father's arms. "We want a baby too. Not this baby." He pointed at the bundle in his mother's arms. "We're just keeping this baby till they find its grandma or aunty. We want another baby in our family. Sheriff, when are you and Wendy going to have a baby?"
A brief silence came. At least, a human one. The new mother cow lowed to her calf as she got up and examined him, nudging him. Zak's words had startled Rodd. What was the right thing to say?
"Zak," Bruce began, "you know we talked about how God's first choice is that every baby have both a mother and a father. We also talked about how it's good for a man and woman who love each other to get married before they have a family. That way, a baby gets love right at the start in a family that has a mother and a father who love each other and the baby."
"But Rodd and Wendy love each other. Don't you, Rodd?" Zak implored.
Wendy turned bright pink. "Zak—"
"Well, you do, Sheriff," Zak insisted. "You kissed her. I saw you at the auction. When are you going to get married?" Zak demanded as if Rodd were being particularly dense.
Shock rippled through Rodd
How like God to use a child to give me the push I need
. And he had to confess, God had certainly come up with a novel way of broaching the subject of marriage. Rodd took Wendy's hand in his. He'd thought it might take weeks to win his way back into Wendy's heart. But he'd sensed Wendy's happiness today as soon as she'd entered the barn.
Okay, Lord, I'll take it from here.
"Excuse us, Zak. This is something Wendy and I should discuss privately. You watch the mama clean up her calf."
Leaving Bruce and Penny to deal with Zak's questions, Rodd led Wendy to the end of the stalls into a vacant one. The moment had come. He prayed for the right words to say. Inside the stall, he gently cupped her shoulders with his hands. "Wendy, I know this isn't the usual time or place for a proposal, but I love you with my whole heart."
Her breath caught in her throat.
"You are the only woman I've ever wanted to be my wife, the mother of my children. I know this winter has been a tough one, but..."
Wendy watched Rodd's intent face as he spoke. His words flowed over her like a soft caress, but his tender expression, tone, and touch told her even more.
Rodd Durand loves me. And he wants me to be his wife.
A few weeks ago she would have been upset by Rodd's proposal. In the past, before she'd ever really felt this kind of love for any man, she'd closed the door on romance. All because of what had happened to her mother.
But I'm not my mother. And Sage is right. I won't let the past destroy my future. You've brought a fine man into my life. Rodd Durand would never betray my trust
. "Yes, Rodd."
He stopped. "You'll marry me?"
She nodded.
Sweeping her into his arms, he kissed her.
And with a full heart, she kissed him back.
In the church office on the second day of May, Wendy's mother, Doreen, slipped another bobby pin into the crown of Wendy's wedding veil. "Ouch," Wendy complained. "How many of those things do you need to hold on a veil?"
"That's the last one. It's good you grew your hair out longer or we'd have had to tape it to your head." Mom stepped back and gazed at Wendy, dressed in a white satin wedding gown. "I think you're the first Rieker to be married in white satin in memory "
"And I'll be next," Sage said, picking up her yellow-and-white bridesmaid bouquet from the table.
"Are you sure you want to wear this same gown, Sage?" Doreen worried aloud. "We can afford another—"
"Don't worry about it," Sage interrupted. "Since I'm taller than my big sister, Mrs. Benser is going to add another ruffle to the skirt, and she's going to shorten the sleeves for my August wedding."
Wendy had reconciled herself that Sage and Trav would get married. She didn't have the right to tell her very perceptive sister whether or when to marry. And she knew her mother was sad that her brother, Dutch, was in custody and waiting to stand trial for his part in the explosion in LaFollette. But Wendy pushed these thoughts from her mind.
Sage was saying. "And Miss Frantz is going to do something to the veil to make it look different, too."
Much to everyone's surprise, Miss Frantz had insisted on making Wendy's veil for free. Over the past months it had become clear that by stealing the bazaar money and trying to avenge herself on Mrs. Benser, Veda McCracken had alienated herself from her final few cronies.
Doreen took out her handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. "I don't know what I ever did to deserve two such beautiful, wonderful daughters. I don't deserve you—"