Sweet Annie (32 page)

They
fell asleep in their bed that night with the scent of evergreen rich and heavy
in the house, the joy of love full in their hearts, and Luke's hand resting protectively
over her stomach.

The
following morning Luke showed Annie how to warm bricks on the stove. He wrapped
them in a horse blanket and placed them on the floor of the buggy for her feet.

A
light snow fell as they rode to Copper Creek, the back seat of the buggy filled
with packages and Annie's pies.

"Annie,
I'd like to stop by my Uncle Gil's, too," Luke told her. "He'll be
all alone this year."

"Of
course!" she said quickly, wishing things were more comfortable between
their families, so that Gil could have been invited to the Sweetwater home.

"Which
one of us is going to tell them?" Luke asked.

She
didn't have to wonder what he referred to. "I have no idea of the proper
etiquette on this subject. It's always been Burdell who has told our family. Maybe
that's proper. Or maybe that was just because it's his family. Oh, well, it
won't matter. Mother will have a conniption fit in any case." Suddenly,
she grabbed his coat sleeve. "They can't do anything, can they? They can't
try to take this baby away!"

“Annie,
of course not. This is our baby—yours and mine—don't be ridiculous. No one is
going to try such a thing."

"You
don't know them, Luke. They think I'm helpless!"

"Not
any longer. You've shown them differently. Change your thinking, woman."

"You're
right. Of course, you're right." She released his arm and rode the rest
of the way more calmly.

Luke
delivered her and their packages and desserts into her parents' home and took
the horse and buggy to the livery where they'd be protected from the weather,
then returned on foot.

He
knocked and cleaned his boots on the porch. Diana opened the door with a warm
smile. "Merry Christmas!" She hung his coat and hat on the hall tree.
"Everyone is in here," she said, leading the way to the parlor where
the Renlows had already joined the Sweetwaters.

An
enormous tree had been decorated with glass ornaments and beads and brightly
feathered silk birds. Lit candles balanced on the branches, creating a warm
glow in the room. Luke had never seen anything like it, and experienced a
twinge of shame over the bare tree in their home.

Mildred
seemed in a hospitable mood, serving hot chocolate, and even handing Luke a cup
and saucer, though she didn't meet his eyes.

A
cherry wood tea cart held a silver service with steaming tea and orange-glazed
cinnamon rolls. “Mmm, did Glenda make these?'' Annie asked, biting into one.

"She came and baked
yesterday," Mildred replied.

Luke
had noted the festive decorations and the elegant furnishings. The gleaming
silver and fancy pastries, the talk of Mildred's cook shed an unkind light on
all that Annie had given up to marry him. Her sacrifice humbled him. He could
never do enough to show her his gratitude.

"I brought pies,"
Annie said.

The
pride in her voice warmed him clear to his soul. Her accomplishments were
enormous, and anyone who couldn't see that was a blind, shallow person.

“Apple?'' her father asked,
one brow raised.

Luke wanted to kiss him for
sounding appreciative.

His
beautiful wife nodded, her new earrings bobbing. "I haven't figured out
pumpkin yet."

"Good
for you," Diana said. "I've barely figured out the stove."

Burdell
agreed with a nod that earned him a quelling look.

“Do
you have help?'' Luke asked Diana. Was Annie the only one without a cook and
housekeeper?

She nodded. "Not a gem
like Glenda, but Mrs. Hopkins is efficient and dependable. She helps with Will,
too, and will be ever so beneficial with a new little one."

Luke
had cowardly second thoughts about telling her family. If Diana had help, what
would they think of Annie having to keep house and mother all on her own—as
well as sewing to add to their income? Suddenly, he worried that he wasn't at
all the husband

Annie
had needed, if he couldn't provide as well as she deserved.

The women drifted toward
the kitchen and dining room, leaving Luke with Annie's father, uncle, brother
and little Will. The child played with a set of carved horses he'd brought from
home—a gift that morning. Burdell set up checkers on an inlaid drum table and
asked Eldon to play.

Eldon declined, wanting to
read a newspaper while the women were gone. Mort declined, as well, closing his
eyes where he sat.

Burdell glanced at Luke.

Luke glanced at the board.

Their eyes met.

"Want to play?" Burdell asked finally.

Luke wasn't sure if he did
or not, but he wasn't going to decline this first measure of truce.
"Sure."

He seated himself across
from Annie's brother and Burdell said, "You move first."

The game progressed slowly.
Burdell played intensely, and Luke didn't know if the man was always fiercely
competitive or if he just couldn't stand to lose to Luke. Having spent many a
winter night playing checkers before a fire with his uncle, Luke held his own.
The aromatic cooking smells drifted to them, and Luke's mouth watered.

He glanced up to find
Burdell studying his face. His gaze went to Luke's mouth and Luke raised a concealing
finger to his lip, self-consciously hiding the scar.

"Dinner is
served," Charmaine called from the doorway. Annie stood beside her cousin,
and her eyebrows shot up at the checker game underway. "Who's
winning?" she whispered to Luke, when he took her arm.

"Nobody yet," he replied.

All the food had been
placed on the table and the marble-topped buffet, the ham having been sliced before
it was carried out, so everyone helped themselves and ate. Luke marveled at the
bountiful feast.

"Shall we have our dessert later?" Annie
asked.

The men agreed with that
suggestion, and Burdell followed Mort and Eldon to the parlor.

Luke stayed to help,
scrubbed a roasting pan and a kettle, and went for wood and fresh water as he
was accustomed to doing at home, and dried a stack of plates that Annie had
washed.

Mildred kept her distance,
covertly watching him. Charmaine questioned Luke about the amount of snow in
the foothills. Vera handed him a jar of her fudge sauce and asked him to
unscrew the lid. Vera was a ranch wife, he realized, accustomed to doing her
own cooking and laundry, so perhaps Annie didn't think it was so awful going
without.

Mildred appeared to want to
dry and sort her silverware herself, so he excused himself.

"Thank you for the
help, Luke!" Vera and Charmaine called. Annie gave him a sweet little
wave with her dish towel.

"Does
he always help you like that?" Charmaine asked as he left the room.

"You wanna finish that
game?" Luke asked Burdell, and the man rose to take his place at the game
table.

They both had three kings
left when the women returned from the kitchen with fresh coffee.

"Shall
we save it for later or call it a draw?" Burdell's dark gaze bored into
Luke's purposefully.

Luke
knew he was referring to more than the checker game. The man's eyes were
serious, his expression intense. "Let's call it even," he replied.

Something
flickered in Burdell's eyes. He gave a curt nod and placed the game pieces back
to their original starting positions.

An
old score had been settled here, without so many words, without apology or
accusation. Luke thought of the baby, frustrated that his and Annie's
excitement had to be dulled by their fear of this family's reaction. He was
averse to opening any new wounds right away.

"Can
we open presents now?" Annie asked, and she and Charmaine gave each other
wide-eyed looks of excitement. He discovered quickly that Annie's eagerness
was over the gifts they'd purchased and that she'd made for her family rather
than expectation of what she would receive.

Luke
remained astonished that she'd turned out so many handsomely made garments in
such short time. Her father opened his gift and examined the shirt she'd sewn
for him.

"This
is a finely tailored shirt," he said. "Did you find someone out East
to make it?''

"I made it myself,
Daddy," she told him.

"You what?" He
looked at it again.

"I made it
myself."

Speechless,
he turned it over, examined the cuffs and the collar and the exquisite
stitches. "Why didn't I know you could do this?''

"I
guess I never had the opportunity before. I've always done needlepoint, but
never had a chance to sew. It comes easily for me. Besides, it's fun."

"It's
an extraordinary gift," her father said.

Annie's face glowed with
his simple praise. Her eyes were shining when she glanced at Luke. He gave her
a smile and offered Eldon an appreciative glance. Could the man possibly know
how much his approval meant to his daughter?

For Vera she'd chosen a
bottle of perfume, for Charmaine a pair of gloves with pearls and lace sewn
across the knuckles. Mort received a horse book Luke had selected.

Annie had made Burdell a
vest and Diana a lace-edged pillow as well as a baby blanket. They'd chosen a
wooden train pull-toy for Will, and he dragged it across the floor making
choo-chooing
noises.

Mildred watched the
interaction with mild interest, the package Annie had handed her still on her
lap.

"You haven't opened
yours, Aunt Mildred," Charmaine said.

Annie cast her mother an
openly hopeful look, and Luke took a deep breath.

Annie's mother steadied the
heavy gift on her lap. Expressionlessly, she untied the silver bow and let the
paper fall back, exposing a flat wooden hinged box.

Unfastening the catch on
the front, she raised the lid. Inside lay two rows of small tubes and an array
of long slender brushes.

Annie handed her something
she'd hidden behind the divan. "These, too, Mother." She lifted brown
paper away and showed Mildred the blank canvases.

"A paint set,"
Charmaine said, and glanced at Annie.

"Your aunt used to
paint years ago," Mort told Charmaine.

Annie's mother looked up,
her eyes dark and unreadable.

"Do
you like it, Mother?" Annie asked. Her vulnerability tore at Luke's
heart.

"Why
did you buy this?" Mildred asked. "Where did you get the money?"

"Well,
I
worked
for the money," Annie
explained, as if the fact should have been obvious, and as if the question in
itself wasn't rude.

"Worked for it?"
Her mother arched one eyebrow.

"Yes,
I—I've been sewing. For the ladies in town. I have a lady in Fort Parker now,
too."

“When
you mentioned sewing, I thought you meant lady's work. Not hiring yourself out
as a common seamstress."

"There's
nothing shameful about honest work," Luke said. "I'm proud of Annie's
sewing."

Annie
tried to change the subject by answering her mother's other question. "I
bought supplies for you because you told me you liked to paint at one time. I
thought you would like to try it again."

Mildred
closed the wooden lid. "I'm not living in a fantasy world, Annie. I have
learned to accept my life the way it is, and not to foolishly pine for things
that cannot be."

Her
words brought silence to the room. No one seemed to move or breathe.

"I
don't see why you can't still paint," Annie said in a cajoling voice.
"Just because you haven't done it for a while, doesn't mean you can't
start again."

"A
person needs tutoring to be any good," she said. "Techniques must be
learned."