Joy stayed most of the afternoon. The doctor visited again. Even Charlie and Duncan stood awkwardly at her bedside, attempting conversation, but there was no sign of Reese.
Faith’s worst fears were realized. She had hoped she could make him need her, but she’d failed. He didn’t need her. Didn’t love her. Faith tried to halt the flow of tears. They were tears of self-pity, but she couldn’t seem to stop them. She curled herself into a ball and cried herself to sleep. When she opened her eyes once again, it was dark outside and Reese was sitting in the chair next to the bed. Faith blinked twice to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.
“Reese!”
Reese gritted his teeth against the breathless sound of his name on her lips. He had heard her say his name that way many times when she cried out her pleasure—her satisfaction. His body responded as always to the sound and the image. She moved closer to him, but he didn’t kiss her.
Instead, he told her abruptly, “I’ve brought you something to keep your mind off having to stay in bed.” He picked up a brown paper package.
What Faith really wanted was his kiss, but her spirit brightened at the sight of a gift. He had been thinking about her.
“They’re for the baby. I hope you like them.”
Her mood plummeted. Her reply was polite, mechanical. “I’m sure I will. Thank you.”
He unwrapped the package and placed the contents on her lap. Inside the paper were pieces of fabric in various shapes and colors, most of the patterns in cotton flannel.
“I had the dressmaker cut them out for you. I thought you would might like to sew a few things for the baby.” He held up one half of a gown. “I brought your sewing basket and all the things the dressmaker said you’d need,” he finished awkwardly.
He had wanted to do something for her no one else had thought to do. While the others brought her books, newspapers, and homework to review, he had thought of the baby. Faith enjoyed sewing. She was always mending his shirts and reattaching his buttons. Now, she could sew for someone besides him and Joy. She could make things for the baby.
“Thank you. They’ll keep me very busy.” Faith’s eyes were dull, her voice soft.
“Faith, are you all right?” His chocolate b
rown eyes were full of concern, but Faith couldn’t tell if it was for her or the baby. “I thought you liked sewing. I thought you’d like staying busy.”
“Oh, I do,” she replied absently, “and this way, you won’t have to pay anyone else to make clothes for your child. It’s very economical.”
He flinched at her words. He hadn’t meant his gift to sound like he was attempting to save money. “Are you sure you feel all right?”
“I’m fine. The doctor came twice today.”
“I know. I spoke to Kevin.”
“Then you know I’m much better.” Faith told him.
Reese nodded. “That’s what the doctor said.” But he wasn’t so sure he agreed with him. Reese didn’t think she was any better.
“Will you be here tonight?” The question sounded casual, but Reese knew it was not. The deliberate lack of emotion in Faith’s voice told him how important the question was.
“I’m afraid not.” Reese didn’t elaborate.
“More paperwork?”
“Something like that.”
“I see,” she replied, drawing the covers up around her as if to shield herself from his view. “Then I guess there’s nothing more to say.”
Reese sat there looking at her, stunned by her dismissal. She was acting angry—hurt. Surely, she understood the sacrifice he was making by staying away from her. Surely, Kevin had explained the risks. “Faith, I…”
She looked at him coldly. “Goodnight, Reese.” she said. “Pleasant dreams.”
He got up from his chair and stalked out the door.
* * *
Four days later, the morning of Faith’s twenty-fifth birthday dawned clear and cool with visible signs of warming. It was a welcome sight for the men of the Trail T. They stumbled into the main house for breakfast after three days of rounding up cattle on the open range in numbing cold and fresh snowfall.