“What ye mean?”
“She looked terrified. Josie has displayed discomforting looks since we met, but this was something new entirely.”
Ronan leaned back. “Well, it ain’t none o’ me business, but I’m here to tell ye—be patient and honest with her. She’s yer wife, ye know. She might’ve come from that advertisement, but yer partners for life now. Me and the missus, we’ve had our fair share o’ troubles, but we got through ‘em together. Ye need to let her in.” A smirk curled up half of his face. “Now, ye don’t have to let her into yer bed just yet but at least give her the time to adjust to ye.”
Travis threw his hat at his friend. “You’re really gonna give me a hard time about this wife thing, aren’t you?” Ronan and the reverend were the only two people outside the family that knew about Josie and his arrangement. Ronan promised he wouldn’t tell a soul—not even Caroline.
Ronan chuckled, pointing the hat in Travis’s direction. “Ye’re sure right. Yer friend’s an Irishman—it don’t get no better than that. The lass is a lovely one. Don’t let ‘er go, ye lucky man.”
He threw the hat back, and Travis couldn’t help but laugh. “Just don’t go staring at my wife. I’ll have to get Caroline on ya.”
Ronan puffed out a breath and shook his head. “Don’t ye be threaten’ me about me wife. That red hair o’ hers is some kinda warnin’, and I should’a listened. Fiery temper.” He stood, placing the empty cup on Travis’s armrest. “I gotta be goin’. Wheat ain’t gonna harvest itself early tomorrow.”
Travis stood and shook his friend’s hand, followed by a clap on the back. “Thanks for coming out. I appreciate it, even if it’s to tease me.”
“Anytime,” Ronan said, putting his hat over his shaggy blond hair. “Take care.”
As Ronan climbed up on his horse and took off, Travis leaned against the porch’s wooden pillar. Was he a fool to push Josie away? Travis glanced through the kitchen window, seeing Josie wiping a dish. His heart skipped a beat.A lovely lass, she is.
Chapter Fifteen
Ithadbeenfourdays since the harvest began. The first half of the fifth acre had been cleared, leaving behind organized piles of wheat, waiting to be bound into sheaves. For the first time, Josie could see the Montana soil beneath her, clear as day. Her arms ached with each swing of the scythe, and while she had learned to endure the weight, her mind hazed with exhaustion. By the time evenings came, she could barely muster the energy to put the children to bed. When she’d settle herself for bed, it took her a while to sleep, especially when Gideon had cried more than usual the past two nights.
Finding a comfortable position became increasingly difficult for Josie, her body sore and her stomach stretched to its limits. Josie couldn’t stop thinking about what Travis said. Days went by, and those words still made her sick.I can’t risk these children losing another mother.He didn’t deserve the nightmare of possibly losing his wife again. He’d worry himself to death, just watching a baby grow inside her. She couldn’t bearto place that burden on him, yet here she was. She was his wife now, in sickness and in health, until death parted them.
Josie set down the scythe and wiped her neck with her shawl. The heat beat down on her, while fatigue gnawed on her muscles. Her legs and arms ached as if they might give way at any moment. Glancing over her shoulder, Travis and Aunt Polly worked tirelessly, slashing the stalks back and forth.You’re weak. Just like Marcus said.You’re no good to Travis or anyone else.Josie grasped her scythe, ready to resume her work, but was halted by a sudden, sharp pinch in her abdomen that almost knocked the wind out of her. She leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees, hoping the discomfort would pass, but it didn’t. Her abdominal muscles tightened, and a wave of nausea washed over her. Pressure clasped her airways as the pain returned more intensely than the last. Her world blurred before her eyes as a cold sweat broke out above her brow.
She cried out softly, hoping no one could hear her.Breathe in, breathe out. She tried to steady herself, but the ache sharpened, and the familiar dizziness returned. She had experienced this three times before. Tears brimmed in her eyes, stinging as she held them back.
“Please, God, I beg you. Not again. I’ll do better. I promise,” she prayed through her whimpers, her voice barely above a whisper.
You are good for nothing! You are too weak to give me what you promised! You worthless woman!Josie could hear it as though Marcus was standing before her, just like when she had these same pains. Perhaps she was weak. Marcus didn’t have to beat her to prove it this time. Why couldn’t Marcus leave her alone? He was still in her mind, torturing her.
Josie closed her eyes, clenching her teeth as she cried louder—no longer caring if Polly or Travis could hear her. All she wantedwas someone to hold her, promising the baby was fine and it would live.
“Josie! Josie!”
Jonas appeared behind her, pulling at her skirt as she hunched over. She tried to smile and brush off her ailing, for no child should see a woman act this way, especially one who was supposed to be their strong, maternal figure. She opened her mouth to speak, but the pain increased like a punch to her stomach, making her groan.
“Are you all right, Josie?”
Josie cried louder, bending over and clutching her abdomen as the ache intensified—it was too late, just like those three times before. She would pay the price for being an evil trickster to a kind man, and no one would love her. She was better off swinging from the gallows, and no one would care because she had no one. This family wasn’t hers; she knew that now.
Jonas ran off. “Pa! Pa! Come quick! It’s Josie!”
Josie closed her eyes, pressing her lips together, muffling a cry.Not now. Please, God. Send him away. I want to be alone. He mustn’t see me like this.
Before Josie could protest, Travis was at her side, concern etched on his face. His hands wrapped around her shoulders, steadying her.
“Josie, what’s wrong? What happened?” he asked through rapid breaths.
Josie was too weak to respond, her body shuddering in his arms. Aunt Polly knelt beside her and gently lifted her chin, her eyes filled with concern. “Honey, what’s the matter? Are you hurt?”
Josie shook her head, but the pain made her vision blur. Her legs wobbled, threatening to give way, and just as she began to collapse, Travis caught her in time. Her mind spun as she found herself cradled in his arms. Resting her head against Travis’smuscular chest, she let her grief wash over her. Deep down, she knew she didn’t need a diagnosis; the baby was gone.
Travis’s legs devoured the field as he sprinted to the cabin with Josie cradled in his arms. He didn’t slow, didn’t pause for breath—only the desperate need to get her to safety drove him forward. Seeing her hunched over in pain made something snap within him. She seemed fine earlier that morning. How could one’s health slip so fast? She was exhausted like everyone else; however, exhaustion didn’t leave one crying, bent over, and limp with extreme pain. Only his father had suffered like this—pushed too hard because of Travis’s irresponsibility. A lump formed in Travis’s throat.
Bursting through the cabin door, he glanced down at Josie’s pale face. She stirred, clinging to his shirt with her fists as she cried out.How could you do this again, Travis? Why must you hurt everyone you care for?
