Franz wrapped her in a soft woven blanket, brushed a gentle kiss on her forehead, much as her father would have done, and left her alone.
Could she tell Kris about the baby? She thought about what she might say as she braided her hair and slipped beneath the cold sheets. Shivering herself warm, she imagined being able to cuddle up to Kris, instead.
She closed her eyes and recalled how he’d scooped her from the ground and carried her to the Bittners’. So strong, so warm. For a few moments, she’d relaxed and let someone else shoulder her troubles—and it had been wonderful.
Could Kris forgive her mistake? Her weakness? For she had been weak to allow Albert to convince her to gift him with her innocence. True, he’d begged and made promises, at first taking small liberties that left her blushing, then growing more bold, until she was swamped with his wants and experience.
That should have been her first inkling that Albert wasn’t whom he said. His knowledge of what went on between a woman and a man was more than it should have been, while hers was only what she’d overheard among the married ladies of her mother’s acquaintance.
She should have resisted, told him no again and again, but she’d believed his protests of love, his promises of forever. He’d overwhelmed her with lies and kisses until her innocence was gone—along with her virginity—then went back to his wife as soon as they’d reached Chicago.
Staring at the window where she’d written his name, Maggie wondered if Kris could see a future with her beyond all the mistakes of her past.
Or would he turn his back on her as Albert had, leaving her more alone than she’d been when her father died?
CHAPTER NINE
Kris thought there’d never been a more beautiful morning. The rising sun turned the frost into glittering crystals on every leaf and blade of grass. As he cross the garden to the church, he couldn’t stop smiling. Not only would his Margaret make a perfect clergyman’s wife, but she was so beautiful she’d nearly stopped his heart last night. God willing, she would accept his marriage proposal and he could wake up to the sight of her smile—and that glorious hair and luscious body—every morning for the rest of his days on earth.
As the grounds filled with his flock, packing away flowers and ribbons and taking down tables, he tried not to be obvious as he searched for her. When the work was nearly done, and she still hadn’t arrived, he motioned to Franz. “Isn’t Margaret coming?”
“Not this morning. I believe she is still shaken up after the events of last night.”
There was more the good doctor wasn’t telling him; Kris could see it in the man’s eyes. He wanted to question him, be sure it was nothing serious, but not in front of an audience.
When the last parishioner left, he strode to his house. He needed to see Maggie.
Nodding to folks as he walked the length of town, he was struck by the number of strangers he encountered. Not long ago, he’d known the name of every resident and where they lived. But now, River’s Bend was becoming the primary place to join the Santa Fe Trail or the trails and wagon trains heading to Oregon, Wyoming and other places west. Where the wagons used to roll through town only from spring to early fall, now they came until winter was a real threat.
In spite of the growth, he’d come to like this little town. Remaining here wouldn’t be so bad, especially if Maggie was here to share that future.
Maggie answered his knock, stepping back to invite him in. She was so beautiful—but pale. “Franz and Rebekah have gone to visit Martha and I haven’t prepared anything for dinner.”
He hung his hat and coat on the hooks with the ease of one who’d been a guest in the home many times. “I haven’t come to eat, though I wouldn’t turn down something warm to drink. This wind is positively biting. I find it hard to believe it’s almost spring.”
“There’s coffee. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable in the parlor—”
“I’ll come with you.” When she hesitated after turning to the door, he slipped a hand under her elbow. “You’re hurting from last night’s adventure.”
“No.” She paused to look up at him. “Not much,” she admitted. “Truly. My hip is always a bit stiff when the weather turns.” As they entered the kitchen, Kris spotted Leopold tucked on a pillow in the corner close to the stove.
“Your feline familiar is certainly at home in his new surroundings.” When her gaze snapped to his, Kris winked, hoping to make her smile. But the look of bleak resignation on her face made him pause. “Maggie?”
“Sit down.” She poured coffee for him, adding a bit of sugar, just the way he liked it. “There are biscuits and ham. And I can fry up some eggs, if you’d like.”