Free The Fulfillment by Lavyrle Spencer Page A

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    Mary met Aaron’s eyes briefly across the table, and he realized that Jonathan had not spoken to her about this since they’d all talked it over together last winter. His puckered brows clearly told Mary that Aaron was aware of Jonathan’s plans and that they didn’t rest well with him.
    The baby had fallen asleep, and Pris took him off to his bed but returned from upstairs to the living room and began playing the organ. It was getting late, and Aaron knew they’d soon be leaving. If he wanted to talk to her, this was his chance. When he got up to leave the kitchen Newt would have followed him, but Agnes sent him packing upstairs to get ready for bed. Aaron was grateful.
    Priscilla had her back to Aaron when he came into the living room. He came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, but she continued to play, pumping the foot pedals and creating a gusty sound that wafted louder than his voice, giving them a sort of privacy.
    â€œWe have to talk,” he said to her back.
    â€œUh-uh,” was all she said.
    â€œHow long are you going to keep this up?”
    â€œI don’t want to talk to you or see you anymore,” she said.
    â€œTurn around and look at me when you say that,” he challenged her.
    â€œIt would be the same, looking at you or not.”
    He swung her by the shoulders until she spun around on the revolving organ stool to face him. Her hands had slid across the keys, and the discordant notes swooned to a telling silence as the bellows lost air. The voices in the kitchen waned momentarily. Then the sound of scraping chairs told Aaron they were preparing to leave.
    He lowered his voice. “Will you come outside so we can talk this over like two adults?”
    â€œNo. I have to help Mama put the kids to bed.”
    â€œOkay, have it your way,” Aaron conceded. “But I’ll come down and get you for the dance tomorrow night.”
    â€œI’m going with Willy,” she said.
    â€œNext Saturday, then.”
    â€œDon’t waste your time, Aaron,” she said dryly.
    â€œOkay, have it your way for now.” Then he went to join the others at the door and say his goodnights to Clem and Agnes.
    The ride home was uncomfortable. While the trap seated two comfortably, it crowded three. Aaron sat nearly atilt in his corner, stretching anarm along the back of the seat to widen the space where Mary sat wedged. Although her left shoulder found space behind Jonathan, her right nested warmly against Aaron. His leg bolstered hers, and his armpit contoured her shoulder. In days past they’d ridden this way unaware of crowded limbs. That was no longer true.
    In bed later, sealed inside the dark, Mary said to Jonathan, “I didn’t know you planned to go to the Cattle Exposition.”
    â€œWe talked about buying the bull last winter,” he reminded her.
    â€œYes, but that was…before.”
    â€œYou mean you don’t want me to buy one now?”
    â€œâ€™Course I do, but do you have to go to Minneapolis to do it?”
    â€œIf I’m to get the purebred I want for starting the herd, then yes.”
    â€œI can see you’re dead set on going.”
    â€œAha.”
    â€œWhen?”
    â€œIn five weeks.”
    She knew how badly he wanted to buy his first bull, but she knew, too, that the trip fell in with his other thoughts. She couldn’t let him go along assuming everything would go as planned while he was gone.
    â€œI know you want that bull terribly bad, Jonathan, and what I said last winter I’ll stick by. I’ll help Aaron with the corn if it’s not done yet—so you can go—but don’t expect to come home and find me changed, because I won’t be.”
    His voice came lightly from his pillow. “That’sfine, Mary.” But his tone implied, “We’ll wait and see.”
    She felt the spinning of events whirling on in spite of her, like when she was a