Eternity (Montgomery/Taggert 17)

At that particular line, Carrie said she thought she was going to throw up.

“Is it the baby?” Josh asked, concerned, starting to halt the horses.

“No, it’s you.”

Smiling, he flicked the reins of the horses.

Before going to Josh’s house, they stopped at Hiram’s big, sturdy, perfectly clean, perfectly dull farmhouse—not a flower in sight—to pick up the children. Carrie stayed on the wagon while Josh went in to get them, carrying a sleeping Dallas in his arms, a drowsy Tem following. Carrie took Dallas, and Tem climbed onto the seat, snuggling against Carrie.

“Are you going to stay or leave?” Tem asked, yawning.

“Stay,” Carrie answered.

Tem nodded as though to acknowledge that this was the latest decision, but that it might change in the next minute.

At home Josh took the children up the ladder to the loft, then came back down to the first floor. Yawning, he walked to the bedroom.

Carrie met him at the door. “What are you doing?”

“Going to bed.”

“Not in this room, you’re not,” she said firmly.

Josh sighed. “Carrie, love, this is ridiculous. I’m tired and I don’t want to have to share that tiny bed with Dallas. Have pity on me.”

“You are not spending the night with me. You and I aren’t married. In fact, legally, you are married to another woman. If you and I slept together, we’d be committing adultery.”

“But I was married to her before when we spent the night together.”

“But then I didn’t know anything.”

Moving closer to her, the sleepy look left his eyes, and his voice lowered to a silky tone of seduction. “Carrie, my love, I just want a place to sleep. You can’t deny a man that, can you?”

“Are you tired from raising worms all day or from talking to my brother and ignoring me all evening?”

“Carrie, honey,” he said, pleading and reaching out to caress her cheek.

“Don’t you touch me!” she said and slammed the bedroom door in his face.

Upstairs, when Josh climbed in the narrow bed with his daughter, Dallas sleepily said, “I told you Carrie wanted the big bed by herself.”

The next morning Carrie was sound asleep when Josh allowed the children in the room to wake her up. But instead of jumping on the bed as they usually did, they climbed in with her and Choo-choo, and soon all of them were sleeping together in a heap.

Josh stood in the doorway drinking a cup of the world’s worst coffee and looked at his family with love—well, maybe he didn’t love the dog, but even that creature was growing on him.

Last night at dinner, contrary to what Carrie thought, he had been very aware of her anger. He probably shouldn’t have indulged himself so, but her jealousy had felt so very good. He’d had women jealous when he’d given his attention to others, but those women had meant nothing to him. Those women had not loved him, not loved the man, but had loved who they thought he was. Several women in his past had tried to get to Josh through his children, but his children were very astute: They had universally hated all the women.

But now, looking at Carrie and the kids, not being able to tell where one person began and the other ended, he knew how very much he loved her. And she was right: He and his children needed her.

He smiled at the lot of them. Everything was going to be all right now. He knew it. All he had to do was deal with Nora, and then he’d be free.

As though thinking of her conjured her, Choo-choo jumped out from under the covers and began to bark frantically. Outside was the sound of an approaching carriage, and as Josh turned toward the front door, he grimaced. It couldn’t be Nora already, could it?

At Choo-choo’s bark, Carrie came awake slowly, and for the first few moments she wasn’t sure where she was.

Tem raised his head. “Who’s that?” They could hear the carriage as it stopped in front of the house; a man was yelling at the horses.

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