Free The Widower's Wife by Bice Prudence Page A

through the door as he headed through the gate.
    “Whoa!” he called to the horses and brought the wagon to a halt. He wondered what he had forgotten, and then he saw the pail in her hand.
    “Dalton!” she called again. She was out of breath by the time she reached the wagon. “You forgot your lunch.” As she reached up to hand it to him, Dalton bent down and with hardly any effort at all, lifted her up and set her on his lap. By her smile, he knew she’d caught the look of mischief in his eyes.
    “So you decided to come with me after all, did you?”
    Laurellyn playfully punched him on the arm. “Now, Dalton McCullough, you put me down this minute. You know I can’t go with you. I promised Aunt Betty I’d help her put up beans today.” She sighed. A whole day in the kitchen would be sheer torture for her. She loved to raise vegetables and fruit, but cooking and canning them, well, those were all very different things to her.
    “Well, seeing as you came running out this way, why don’t I make it worth your while?” He winked and wrapped his arms around her a little tighter. She giggled and snuggled in a little closer. Just then Jenny came barreling down the walk. Reluctantly, he loosened his hold. “Well, my lady, you were saved from your devouring . . . I mean, devoted husband by a four-year-old chaperone with a keen sense of the wrong time to interrupt.” She laughed and kissed his cheek, and he let her back down to the ground.
    “I’ll be back about an hour or so before sunset.” Smiling, he added, “Have fun with Aunt Betty today!” Dalton watched as she visibly cringed before he chuckled and drove the wagon away.
    He was driving into Darlington to buy supplies and some new equipment for the farm. Most of his trips went by without incident, but this trip wouldn’t prove to be one of those times. It was fraught with problems from the beginning. A little over halfway there, Old Decker was spooked by a rattler that had ventured onto the road, and the horse bolted, dragging the other horse along. Dalton quickly got both horses under control, but not before the wagon had veered off hard to the left. The rim was knocked loose from the back left wheel when it hit a rock in the ditch.
    “Confounded horse,” he grumbled. “You’re always spooking too easily for your own good.” Years ago, his father had bought Old Decker as a favor to an old gambler who was passing through town and was down on his luck. The horse had been old then, but hadn’t minded hard work—an important requirement for farm life. When he was finished with the harvest come summer, Dalton had already decided that he would have to start looking for another horse. It was time to put Old Decker out to pasture. He was getting too lazy and stubborn in his old age. It had taken Dalton an hour to patch the wheel well enough to get him the rest of the way into town.
    When Dalton had finally made it to Darlington, it hadn’t been easy to find a blacksmith that was both reasonable and available to fix the wheel in a relatively short amount of time. As he waited for the repair, he purchased the items he had come for; walking them one at a time back to the blacksmith’s to load them into his wagon. The sun was already setting when he left town and headed for home.
    With the trouble-filled day finally almost over, he was both frustrated and exhausted when he turned the wagon into the gate and started up to the house. His family hadn’t noticed his arrival yet, so he brought the wagon to a stop as he contemplated the scene before him.
    Laurellyn was perched on the porch and strands of her long blonde hair were lifting in turns as the light breeze caught beneath them. It almost had an ethereal look to it. One-year-old Lisa was snuggled up under her chin, and Jenny was leaning on her lap, listening intently. He could hear the faint but beautiful musical strains of a melody carry over to him on the breeze.
    Suddenly, she looked over at him and