Millie wanted to ask for another drink of water, but that would have felt too much like stalling. Her husband had spoken to her so honestly—he deserved her honesty in return.
“I don’t want to agree with what you said. I want to argue the point with you. But I can’t. Not right now.”
Millie felt Adam relax underneath her. “I’m not saying that I would worry the same amount if you were a banker,” she continued. “I really think I would worry less, but I don’t know.” She thought about it for another second, trying to give Adam’s opinions the same consideration she had given her own. “Maybe not. Maybe I would worry about bank robbers. Or the bank closing. I’m pretty good at finding things to worry about, in case you hadn’t noticed.” She smiled as she felt Adam laugh underneath her cheek.
“But you asked me what was motivating my desire for you not to farm. And you were right. My sole motivation is fear that the crops will fail and all your work will have been for nothing. If there wasn’t that risk, I would not ever want to move. I love our farm. I love working in the garden and having so much room for the kids to play. I even like the chickens and cows and riding the horses, but don’t tell them that. I’m just scared.”
Adam’s hand was rubbing her back, and Millie closed her eyes. She was done for now. Millie had seen Genie collapse into deep sleep after throwing a fit. She’d laugh and shake her head and say the child had worn himself out. Millie now understood how he felt. She wanted to sleep, right here where she was warm and comfortable and protected.
“Thank you for telling me that. I know you don’t see it, but we are going to be okay. I really hope the crops live, and I’m going to work hard to make that happen, but even if they die we are still going to be okay.”
Millie didn’t really know what to say. She was going to be here, with him and the children, no matter what. So, she would hang on and hope he was right.
“Mama?” Caty’s voice came from outside the barn, and she sounded panicked.
Millie scrambled to her feet, grateful when Adam helped her. He nodded toward the barn door. “Go on. I’ll clean up in here and be there shortly.”
She wanted to argue with him. Millie had made the mess; it wasn’t fair that Adam had to clean it up.
“Mama? Daddy?” Caty’s voice was closer.
Millie ran out the barn door. “We’re here, Caty.” The girl ran to her and squeezed her tight around her stomach, laying her head down on the bump. “Oh, Caty, it’s okay. It’s okay.” She sounded like Adam now. Caty let go and looked up at her, tears coming down her cheek.
“Where were you? I woke up and the house smelled bad and you weren’t there.”
Millie leaned down. “Jump on three, all right?” Caty nodded and did just as Millie asked. Even at five, Caty was a small girl. It was a bit awkward for Millie to pick her up and hold her, but Millie did it anyway. Caty put her head down on Millie’s shoulder and started to shake with the tears that escaped. Millie made her way to one of the rocking chairs on the front porch. She sat down, Caty in her lap.
Millie just rocked for a while, not in any hurry to make this sweet child get up. Millie rubbed Caty’s back and whispered how much she loved Caty into the girl’s ear. It seemed to be a day for the Beale women to get upset and need to be consoled.
When she was ready, Caty sat up and looked at Millie. “I got scared.”
Millie nodded, the solemnity she felt in her heart keeping her face somber. “I know. I’m sorry. I’d guess that not being able to find me was really, really scary.”
Caty bit her lower lip. “I thought maybe you lefted me.”
Millie could not stop her gasp. “Caty, no. Never. Look at me. Are you looking?”
Caty nodded.
“I will never leave you. Never, ever.”
Caty’s eyes were thoughtful again. “What about if you die?”
Millie jumped as Adam sat down in the rocking chair next to hers. She hadn’t realized Caty had cried long enough for Adam to clean up Millie’s mess and join them. Hadn’t realized Adam could hear what Caty was saying.
But she was grateful.
“Why are you thinking about Millie dying, Caty-girl?” Adam was leaning forward in his chair, one large hand stroking down Caty’s wild unbrushed hair.
Caty shrugged, not making eye contact with either one of them. “Sometimes mamas die.”
Millie’s eyes met Adam’s.
Adam continued smoothing her hair. “Yes, Caty. Sometimes mamas die.”
“What if Mama dies?”
Before Adam could answer, Millie held up a hand, silently asking him to let her answer this question.
“Caty, will you look at me again, please? I want you to see my face, so you know I’m telling you the truth.”
Caty looked.
“I get scared a lot, Caty. I get scared about things I can’t control. And I worry and worry and worry even though worry doesn’t make it better.” Caty was still watching her with solemn eyes. “But those worries are just bad thoughts. They’re not real. I am here, and I will never, ever leave you on purpose. And if I die, you can be sad. That’s okay, too. But then I will be in heaven and I will be watching you and loving you and I will always be there for you. All that matters is that I love you and you love me. That’s it.”
Caty looked at Millie and Millie looked right back. She hoped that whatever the girl saw, that it would reassure her that Millie meant every word. Millie knew the heartache that came with worrying about things you couldn’t control. She didn’t want that for her sweet girl.
“I love you, Mama.” Caty leaned forward for one last, fierce hug.
“I love you, too, baby. Why don’t you go wake up your brother. It’s late, and we all need to eat breakfast. Do eggs sound good?”
“And pie?” Caty almost sounded like Genie.
Millie wasn’t sure she ever wanted to eat pie again, but there was no way she was denying Caty anything today. “Yes, and pie.”
Caty went inside, and Millie let out a long shaky breath. Adam reached over and held her hand, melting back into his own chair. They sat there for a while, rocking and holding hands. Millie tried not to notice how warm his hand was. How the callouses made it feel strong. How sturdy it was.
This was just because of their rough morning. That was all. A child they both loved had been upset. They were both worried about the crops. Things had been emotional and draining and they were just two adults who were seeking a bit of comfort. It didn’t mean anything.
“I really, really, really wish I didn’t need to head out to the fields today.”
Millie groaned, feeling like she had been awake for twenty hours instead of two. “Do you have to go right now? I mean, does it have to be today?”
Adam was quiet, and Millie found herself almost wanting to cry again at the thought of him leaving. What in the world was wrong with her today? She needed to stop all of this emotional mess.
“I don’t have to go out right away, and I won’t be gone all day. I mean, there’s not a whole lot for me to do. Most of it is up to the water and crops now.”
Millie nodded. That was something, at least. The door flew open, and Millie and Adam dropped hands like they were about to be caught doing something wrong. Genie came running out on the porch, still in his nightclothes.
As always, he had a huge smile on his face. Millie held out her arms and he came and sat in her lap. Caty was behind him, and Millie was glad the distressed look was gone from her eyes. Adam reached out, and the girl curled up in his lap.
They were hours behind schedule. There were things that needed to be done. And the four of them just sat in those chairs and rocked. Not talking, just being. Together.
* * *
The omelets were delicious, as always. The kids chattered and rambled and laughed. He ate pie, and enjoyed its sweetness—though the laughter and chatter of his children was even sweeter. All in all, the day had recovered in a spectacular fashion.
And all Adam could think about was leaving. He needed to get out of this room, out of this house. As soon as he felt he could do so without alarming Millie and the kids, Adam said goodbye, grabbed his hat and walked out the front door.
He saddled his horse and gathered his tools without even realizing he was doing it. The next thing Adam knew, he was riding out across his land, surrounded only by the blue sky and silence.
He still felt trapped. Felt like he needed to urge the horse into a gallop and keep going until they both collapsed from exhaustion. Adam got off the horse and walked through the fields, noticing how much better the plants already looked. He pulled any weeds he saw, trying to make sure the water and nutrients went to the crops and not the nuisance plants.
That done, Adam could have gone home. Gone back to Millie and the kids like he’d said he would.
He didn’t.
Adam rode out to the small cemetery where his first wife was buried. It was a surprisingly peaceful spot, shaded with several large trees. Adam sat down underneath one of those trees, leaning back against its trunk. Birds were singing, filling the air with announcements that life did, indeed, go on.
But to what end?
Adam bent his knees and rested his forearms on them, just staring at the place where Sarah had been put into the ground. He’d been furious with her. Almost relieved she had died.
Adam had actually thought that her dying solved a lot of problems. No one would ever have to know she had been determined to leave him. No one would ever have to know that she had actually done it. He would not have to spend the rest of his life legally tied to a woman who had fled. He would not have to spend the rest of his life being whispered about. Pitied.
Adam had been happy that a woman died. Not just a woman, but the mother of his children.
What kind of man was he? Adam wasn’t sure he knew.
It had taken a long time for Adam to understand that Sarah was just human. Someone who was probably doing her best. Someone who had tried to tell him how unhappy she was.
It had taken a really long time for Adam to think of his first wife and remember the good times. The children they had made. It had taken...Millie.
Adam had been so clear on what he wanted when he’d begun the search for a mail-order bride. So very clear in his mind and in his communication with Millie. He did not want love. He did not want that kind of relationship. He was looking for a mother for the children, not a wife for the man.
Adam was all kinds of a fool. Every kind.
When Millie had been distraught this morning, Adam had not been thinking that he needed to comfort her because she was the mother of his children. He had not been thinking at all. None of it was deliberate. His Millie was upset, and he needed to help her. It had been as simple and as mixed-up as that.
When had she become his Millie? And what was he going to do about it? Adam had held her this morning, had called her honey. When she had fallen apart in his arms, all Adam wanted to do was tell her how much she meant to him. How much he liked her. Loved her.
Did he love Millie? Adam didn’t want to. Romantic emotions were messy. They didn’t make sense. Didn’t last. He wanted to build a life for his children with a firm foundation, and love felt squishy, unstable. Love ended. It turned to hate.
Friendship was better. Safer.
Safer.
Adam was a hypocrite. All his lecturing Millie on being brave and taking chances and going after happiness, and here he was hiding under a tree ready to run away because he might love his wife.
He did not need to figure this out today. There was nothing to be afraid of. For all Adam knew, Millie wanted nothing to do with love either. She hadn’t exactly had an ideal first marriage herself. Sure, she had not objected to his comforting or his terms of endearment this morning, but she had also been very, very upset.
Adam sat there under the tree for over an hour. When he finally stood up, his muscles were stiff and he was no closer to a solution. But he kind of thought he maybe wanted to try for a romantic relationship with Millie and maybe see where it went. He also kind of thought he was making a huge mistake.
Adam found Millie hanging laundry in the yard. The kids were playing, the air filled as ever with squeals and giggles. Adam wondered, not for the first time, how Genie could spend all day making noise and never lose his voice. That child was something else.
Caty was right there with him, smiling and running. But she still had that air of seriousness about her. Always had it. Adam had just thought her personality was just naturally more serious, but now he wondered.
She wanted safety, too. Like he did. Like Millie did. But the thought of his daughter living in constant fear and worry that her safety would be taken away made him want to cry. He didn’t want mere safety for his little girl. He wanted her to have a full, joyous life. Not a cautious, safe life.
And, Adam was quickly finding that he wanted the same for himself.
He walked up to Millie, reaching down to grab the next piece of clothing out of her basket. He draped it over the line, smiling as Millie handed him a couple of clothespins. They worked together in silence for several long minutes.
When the basket was empty, he turned to Millie. “How are you doing?”
She looked at the barn, red covering her cheeks again. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m definitely mortified. And tired. But the rest is just... I don’t know.” She breathed out a small huff. “How are the crops looking?”
“I can already tell a difference. That rain wasn’t much, but it was enough for today.”
“Enough for today.” Millie repeated his words softly. Her eyes found his. “I’m sorry, again, for this morning.”
“I’m not.”
“I...what?”
“I’m not sorry at all. I think you had all those emotions and thoughts inside of you and they were almost like a poison. I’m glad you got them out, and I’m really thankful that I got to be there for it.”
“You’re thankful that I threw a giant fit and then cried all over you?”
“Yes, the same way I’m thankful that Caty told us her fears. I’m thankful she said it aloud and it wasn’t some kind of secret for her to keep inside anymore. I’m thankful that I was able to comfort her after.”
Millie watched Caty, now sitting in the yard braiding long grass. Adam decided to listen to his own advice and get his feelings out in the open.
“Millie, I’m also glad I was able to comfort you.”
Her eyes were wide when she turned back to him.
“I know what I said about us being just partners and friends. But I’m finding that I maybe want more.”
Her eyes widened even further. They looked almost too exaggerated in her face.
“I don’t know where it would go. And I want to be careful because I don’t want to destroy our friendship, destroy what we’ve created for the kids. But I keep thinking that we can have more. And I want to follow my own advice and try to not let worry about tomorrow ruin my today.”
Millie wasn’t blinking and she was standing entirely too still. Adam felt his heart start to pound, but he made himself go on.
“If you say no, you’re not interested, I will completely respect that. But I think you are interested, even though you’re scared like I am. But, I’m asking it anyway. Millie Beale, may I please court you?”
Millie blinked, and Adam saw her throat move as she swallowed. She licked her lips and cleared her throat. Adam braced himself.
“Yes.”
What? “Yes?”
She took in another long, deep breath. “Yes. I’m terrified beyond belief. But I don’t want to be seventy years old, looking at the good life I’m sure we will have had, and regret never trying to make it a wonderful life. I want Caty to have more than two adults who like each other as her parents. I want her to see two people who love each other. I want to try, Adam.” She looked at the barn again, an incomprehensible look crossing her face. “You are a safe place, Adam. If I’m going to fail at this, I trust you to catch me. I don’t know where this will go, and you know that scares me spitless. But, yes.”
Adam had spent hours tormenting himself with this idea, and she said yes in five minutes. Okay then.
He nodded. “Then, Mrs. Beale, will you go for a walk with me later today? Enjoy the countryside?”
Millie’s grin was huge. “What about our children?”
“We’ll sneak out during their nap time. We won’t go far, I promise.”
“Then, yes. Again. I would love to go for a walk with you.”