Read Who Brings Forth the Wind Page 35


  "As you can imagine, I'm not getting out these days."

  "We knew you were back, but I wasn't certain if we should

  call. Suddenly I couldn't stand it any longer. Was it pretty

  awful?"

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  "Yes and no. I never really expected Tanner to be in touch,

  so I wasn't surprised when I didn't hear from him. And then

  after I'd learned that he didn't even know we were staying at

  the Blackwells', it was torture. Roddy told me he came to

  Brentwood a week after I'd left."

  Sunny nodded. "He came to Bracken, looking beside himself.

  We talked for quite some time. I don't know if you'll be

  upset, but I told him about how badly the servants treated

  you."

  "I'm not at all upset, but do you know what he did?" Stacy

  asked.

  "He told us what he had planned. Did he do it?"

  "Yes. Price is still here, and so is cook. That's it. Not even

  the stable hands stayed. Sometimes I feel wretched about it,

  but then I remind myself that they all made their choices."

  "That they did," Sunny agreed, not at all afraid of sounding

  harsh. She'd been waited on her entire life and honestly

  believed that both lord and servant could make the best or

  worst of it. Knowing what an undemanding person Stacy was,

  Sunny knew that the original servants at Winslow had been

  completely out of line.

  "What do you hear from Roddy and Lucinda?" Sunny

  asked

  "From Lucinda, nothing, but Roddy came to Christ when

  he came to see me at the Blackwells', and we've had quite a

  bit of communication."

  "Oh, Stacy," Sunny exclaimed and hugged her friend. "You

  must be thrilled."

  "I am that. God had certainly prepared his heart for our

  time together. Roddy was so eager to let God fill the void he

  felt inside. Now he's like dry ground in the rain with the way

  he's reading the Word and growing."

  Stacy had no desire to gossip, so she did not go on to say,

  that he was also doing amazingly well considering that he and

  Lucinda were not living together at the moment.

  "But you say that Lucinda has not been in touch?" Sunny

  inquired.

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  "I've written her twice," Stacy explained, "asking

  write to me so we can talk this out, but I've not heard ax.,

  love Lucinda and I've already forgiven her, but I did tell

  want some answers. She's obviously not ready to give th

  me."

  "Another thing to pray about."

  "Yes," Stacy agreed

  Much to everyone's delight, Sunny and Brandon ended u

  staying for the greater part of the day. However, Stacy found i

  taxing. In fact she was so tired that Tanner had to hold ,

  surprise he had been keeping over until the following da$ i

  The look of delight on Stacy and Drew's faces when he brought!

  Hettie into the breakfast room the next morning was worth

  the putting aside of his own feelings about the old servant.

  lucinda knew that all of london was talking about her

  and Roddy. It was not the gentle variety of gossip as when

  they'd been married or what a handsome couple they made,

  but it was the vicious type, the type Lucinda herself had often

  engaged in. Minds and tongues were speculating everywhere

  as to why the Earl of Glyn's wife had chosen to move from

  their home.

  Some said it was because they'd ruined a beautiful relationship

  by getting married in the first place. Others said that

  nothing could last forever, and some even said that the affections

  of both parties had drifted and each decided to seek out

  greener pastures.

  Lucinda knew better than anyone how far the rumors

  were from the truth. The fact that the Blackwells lived so far

  distant from London was the only reason the duplicity of

  Lucinda's actions toward Tanner and Stacy were not on every

  tabloid in the city.

  Lucinda kept telling herself she didn't care. She staunchly

  put aside all emotions and went shopping and to the theater

  whenever she desired. She did not see other men, but she had

  determined to be as worldly as ever, a facade she couldn't quite manage in the lonely confines of her own room.

  This morning she was feeling every one of her years and so

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  lonely for Roddy that she wanted to weep. Their last convt

  tion, the one she managed to submerge so deeply within

  mind that she hadn't thought about it in all these weeks, ci

  back to her now so sharply that Roddy could have beei standing in the room with her.

  "How could you?" Lucinda spat in anger.

  "How could I what? Go after Stacy? Return her to her^

  husband?"

  "How could you go behind my back?"

  Roddy stared at her in disbelief. He'd returned from his

  search for Tanner to find that Lucinda had received word of

  his actions and had moved from Brentwood to one of London's

  finest hotels. She was beside herself when he sought her

  out at the hotel, but her worry had nothing to do with Roddy's

  well-being in the last four days, only the exposure of her

  subterfuge.

  "How can you possibly accuse me of going behind your back?"

  "You don't understand," Lucinda railed. "He's going to

  hurt her again, just like he always has. She thinks she wants

  him, but she doesn't really. She was probably completely over

  him by the time you got there, but you've sent Tanner to her

  and now he'll give her no choice but to return."

  "You couldn't be more wrong." Roddy's voice told his wife

  he was growing furious. "She was miserable and lonely without

  him. You can ask her yourself."

  "How could you?" was all Lucinda would say.

  "Your line of reasoning frightens me. In fact,you frighten

  me," Roddy told Lucinda coldly. Lucinda's eyes widened with

  shock. However, Roddy went on without mercy. "You wait until I

  leave, and then you sneak Stacy and Drew away, and now you

  stand there and ask me how I could go behind your back. Like I

  said, you frighten me." Roddy turned to the door but paused

  just before leaving. "When you're ready to come to your

  senses and talk about this, Lucinda, you know where to find

  me." With that Roddy had walked out. They hadn't spoken

  since.

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  Now the words, the entire scene, unfolded so clearly in

  :inda's mind that she felt a stab of pain around her heart. He

  ^Jiad been so right. At the time she had refused to see her own

  wrong. She had accused him so she didn't have to face her own

  ' actions. But now...

  Lucinda could not finish the thought. It had been weeks

  since she'd seen him. What if it was too late? What if Roddy had

  given up on her and begun to look for another?

  Lucinda found this thought so unbearable that without

  (care for how she looked, she snatched her cloak and ordered

  her carriage. She was at Brentwood before she really had time

  to think about what she would say, but she needed to see

  Roddy so badly that she didn't care. It felt strange to come to

  the door as a guest,
but Roddy's man, Carlson, greeted her

  warmly and, thankfully, told her that his lord was in.

  Carlson tried to show her to the parlor, but Lucinda declined.

  She was still standing in the entryway, taking in

  the sights and smells of her beloved home, when she heard

  Roddy's footsteps. He stopped just two feet away from her and

  drank in the sight of her flushed face and messy hair. She was

  wearing a simple day-dress, with no jewelry or special fixings,

  and Roddy thought her beautiful.

  Lucinda was feeling quite the same way. Roddy had never

  looked more wonderful. He was jacketless, but his shin was

  very white and crisp and his necktie was the same color as his

  eyes. He stood tall, with his back straight and every hair in

  place. Lucinda's eyes ate up the sight of him.

  "Hello, Cinda," he said gently and in the next instant she

  quite nearly threw herself into his arms. She sobbed without

  disgrace and was still sobbing when Roddy led her into his office, gently helping her get comfortable on the sofa. When

  Lucinda's sobbing had subsided, he began to question her

  gently, his arms still tightly around her.

  "Why have you come?"

  "I missed you so,"

  "I missed you too. Are you back to stay?"

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  "If you'll still have me," Lucinda hiccuped.

  "There was never any question of that, Cinda. My love for

  you is constant, but if you haven't apologized to Stacy then you

  need to do that."

  "She wrote me twice, but I was too angry to write back."

  "And how do you feel now?"

  Lucinda sniffed "I still think Tanner will hurt her, but I feel

  just wretched for hiding her. It was so foolish of me. Do you

  think she'll forgive me?"

  "I'm sure she will."

  "And you, Roddy? Can you find it in your heart to forgive

  me?"

  "I already have."

  Lucinda let herself be cuddled against his chest for a long

  moment. She was no longer crying, but she felt weak and

  shaky all over. Some minutes passed in silence, and then

  Lucinda sat up suddenly.

  "I'll go to her, Roddy. I won't write. I'll go to Winslow and

  make things right."

  "I think that's a wonderful idea, my darling, but the baby is

  due very soon now, and I wonder if maybe you should wait:"

  Lucinda's face was a mask of horror. "The baby! I'd almost

  forgotten about the baby. Oh, Roddy, what have I done?"

  Roddy thought that her tears were spent, but he was

  wrong. She was off again on a flood of weeping that took some

  time to calm. When Roddy was certain that Lucinda was ready

  to listen, he told her she could write to Stacy, but that they

  would not visit until sometime after the baby was born.

  Lucinda agreed without argument.

  There was something different about Roddy. He was taking

  charge of things in a very soothing way, and Lucinda, only

  too happy to be back in his care, was for the first time in her

  life thrilled to let him lead.

  Tanner thought that if Stacy shifted one more time in her

  chair, he was going to come undone. It was obvious she was

  uncomfortable, but she was not at the moment going to say

  anything.

  Tanner's eyes kept straying to Hettie, who was knitting in a

  chair but whose eyes constantly drifted to her mistress. He

  was trying to read in Hettie's face what Stacy would not admit

  to. All at once, Tanner could stand no more. He stood and

  nearly accused his wife.

  "You're in pain, aren't you? I wish you would just tell me."

  "But I'm not, Tanner." Stacy's voice was reasonable. "I'm

  not feeling the best, sort of achy, but I'm not in labor."

  Tanner's seat hit the chair very hard. He really thought this

  was it.

  "I think I would like to go to bed, however," Stacy continued.

  "I know it's early, but I'm tired"

  Tanner nodded and rose, trying hard not to dread the next

  days or weeks. He was certain the baby was coming tonight,

  but he was not excited, only anxious. This was all new for him,

  and he simply wanted to get it started and over with. He knew

  that Stacy wouldn't appreciate his feelings, so he kept them to

  himself.

  Five hours later, he wished he'd voiced his thoughts, if for

  no other reason than to have them off his chest. Stacy had

  fallen asleep immediately, but not Tanner. He had still been

  awake at midnight and at one. At any other time he'd have

  gone off and done some work, read, or even taken a walk, but

  his need to be near Stacy right now put him in bed at nine

  o'clock and kept him there even when all he did was stare at

  the ceiling.

  Tanner finally drifted off somewhere around two in the

  morning, which was the cause for all sorts of confusion when

  Stacy woke him at three.

  "Tanner," Stacy called softly, but her husband did little

  more than stir.

  "Tanner, can you wake up?"

  "Urn."

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  The response was slightly more than the first time, but not

  enough.

  "Tanner, I need you to get Hettie."

  Her voice was louder this time, and Tanner finally stirred.

  "What did you say?"

  "I need Hettie."

  "What do we need Hettie in here for?" His voice sounded

  very crabby, and Stacy had all she could do not to laugh.

  "Things are starting, and I want Hettie."

  "Things? What things?"

  Stacy did laugh this time, but another contraction hit and

  her breath was cut off in a sharp gasp. Understanding finally

  dawned, and Tanner flew out of the bed. He didn't bother with

  his robe. If Stacy had been able to speak, she would have told

  him to cover up for poor Hettie's sake.

  The sun had been up for hours when Stacy, feeling utterly

  spent, lay back against her pillows. She knew she had less than

  a minute before she would need to push again, but right at the

  moment, she didn't know where she would find the store.

  "Is this one worse, Hettie?"

  "Than Drew?"

  "Yes."

  "I can see you're not going to bleed as badly this time, but

  the pains are all 'bout the same, I 'spect."

  Stacy would have replied, but another pain was on top of

  her. Tanner had been with her for most of the time, but when

  he'd become shaky, Stacy had finally sent him away to eat

  something. He was just coming in as the pain subsided

  "I feel like I can't keep this up," she admitted softly, and

  Tanner looked into her exhausted eyes with tenderness. He

  thought she was the most amazing woman on earth.

  "I'll be here for you."

  "What if I can't do it, Tanner? What if I can't push again?"

  Tanner did not need to answer because another pain

  racked Stacy's body. He supported her back as she pushed.

  "I see the head," Hettie cried, and new strength seemed to

  pour over Stacy. She waited anxiously for the next contraction,

  ready to do whatever was asked of her in order to meet this

  baby.

  "Here it
comes, Hettie," Stacy gasped, and the old woman

  stood ready.

  A long minute passed.

  "One more and we'll have it," Hettie crooned, and she was

  right. The next contraction hit, and the old woman cackled

  with delight.

  "A girl! A big, healthy girl with a head full of black hair!"

  Stacy lay back and laughed weakly with relief. She wanted

  to reach for the baby, but her arms felt weighted. A glance at

  Tanner made her chuckle again. He was staring at the squalling

  red infant in Hettie's hands as if he were in a trance.

  Tanner Richardson had never seen anything so miraculous

  as the birth of his daughter. She was a mess, all red and

  curled up and howling at the top of her voice, but he thought

  she was the most precious thing he'd ever seen.

  / love her, he thought to himself. She's my daughter, and I

  love her. I love her the way I loved Drew the first time I set eyes

  on him.

  The magnitude of his thoughts was overwhelming. He

  glanced down at Stacy, her own eyes now back on their

  daughter, and thought about what she'd just given of herself.

  She'd been in agony to accomplish this wonder, and now she

  was smiling and talking to their baby.

  "Don't cry, my darling. Mumma's here. Don't cry. May I have her, Hettie?"

  "Just another minute, and she's all yours."

  Hettie finished the cleanup, and after wrapping the baby in a soft warm wrap, she handed her to her mother. Stacy

  crooned softly into the baby's face and after a moment, the

  tears stopped. She couldn't rock her very well, but she moved

  her arms just enough. Within moments, the baby was asleep.

  "Would you like to hold her?"

  Tanner's eyes flew to Stacy's. He'd been so intent on the

  baby that he hadn't immediately realized she was speaking to

  him. He shook his head.

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  "Another time" was all he said

  "All right." Stacy watched him for a moment. "Are you

  disappointed that it's not another boy?"

  "Not in the least," Tanner told her. There was so much

  more that he wanted to say, but none of it would come. Had

  they been alone he might have tried, but Hettie's presence

  along with that of three housemaids caused him to keep still.

  He was suddenly very tired. Tanner opened his mouth to

  tell Stacy that he was headed off to get some rest, but her eyes

  were already closed, the sleeping baby still tucked in the

  crook of her arm. Seeing this, Tanner made his way from the