she’s not. She’s here to help.”
Maggie shook her head with thunderous force. “No. You need to send her away before she makes you evil, too.”
“I can’t send her away, Maggie. She’s my wife.”
“She’s evil.” Her voice was little more than a harsh whisper. “If you let her in here, she’ll take my baby.”
“Maggie.” Jed rose wearily and moved to take her hands, but she pulled away from him. “Nobody’s going to take your baby.”
She continued to pace, continued shaking her head. “Sam will come back. He’ll make her go away.”
It had been almost two weeks since Sam disappeared. The whole town believed him dead, everyone except Maggie. She clung to her husband’s memory as though it was her last thread of sanity.
“You can’t make Lucy sleep out in the barn.”
“Yes, I can,” Maggie hissed. “She’s an animal.”
“Maggie. . .” Jed couldn’t say anything else. He’d never seen Maggie so upset, so crazed. Maybe Lucy would agree to the barn for one night. It’d probably mean he’d have to find a way to make it up to her, but at this point, what choice did he have?
“Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll set Lucy up in the barn tonight, but tomorrow she sleeps in here.”
“No.” Maggie didn’t blink. “I won’t ever let her in here. I’ll keep the door barred.”
When he opened his mouth to argue, she waggled her finger in his face. “I’ll kill her before I let her hurt my baby.”
She really was crazy. The realization settled over Jed like an unbearable weight. What was he going to do with her? No one in such a state would be capable of raising a child.
“I think we both need to get some rest,” he finally sighed. “We’ll talk some more tomorrow.”
He gathered the items Lucy would need for the night and morning, then stepped out into the still night air, out to where Lucy sat waiting.
Before Maggie shut the door behind him, she laid her hand on his shoulder and smiled up at him with the same sweet and gentle smile that had first attracted him to her so many years earlier.
“Good night, Jed. Have a good sleep.”
A second after the door closed, a soft thud signaled she’d barred the door. He didn’t move for a long time, just stood staring toward the fire, caught between two completely different women, both of whom he’d made promises to.
It took him a while to gather his wits. His wife would not be happy about sleeping in the smelly, cold, barn, but –-
Was she sleeping already? He strained to hear as he moved closer, quietly as possible. Sure enough, Lucy had curled up in the blanket, and lay snoring on the hard ground. There would be no argument about sleeping arrangements tonight.
Thank you, God
.
He took the supplies into the barn and set them in a neat pile before returning to Lucy. With the blanket cocooned around her, head to toe, the only part not covered was her face, and still her lips had taken on a slight blue tinge. How could she possibly be so cold?
After a long moment of staring down at her, he lifted her into his arms, careful not to wake her. Better to ask forgiveness in the morning than permission in the middle of the night.
She’d be plenty mad when she realized where she’d slept, but he’d deal with that in the morning. Right now he was too damned tired to even think about it. All he wanted to do was get his wife into bed. Any bed.
Of course, he hadn’t planned on sleeping in the same bed yet, but he couldn’t very well leave her out there on the hard ground. Surely he could manage one night of lying beside her; after all, they’d both be dressed. . .
Dammit. Was he being punished for something? He didn’t
want
to want his wife so soon. He needed to be stronger. He would
not
be the man his father was.
No matter how much effort it took, no matter how much Lucy fought him, and no matter how many dips in the creek he’d need to take – he would make this into a good marriage or die trying.
With that thought lingering