UNBROKEN PROMISE

~95~ Just Tired

The next morning, when Oma stirred awake, the bed beside her was empty. She blinked at the soft light streaming in through the curtains, then sighed, stretching her sore body. On the small bedside table was a folded piece of paper. She reached for it, smiling the moment she recognized Logan’s haphazard scrawl.

Hope you slept well, darlin’. Didn’t want to disturb you, ya looked so pretty and peaceful sleepin’. I’m headin’ out to get a head start on the punishment. I was wonderin’ if you could please bring me breakfast, if you can. I love you, baby girl.

Oma pressed the note against her chest, blushing, her lips tugging into a smile. After a moment she stretched again, then swung her legs out of bed to begin her day.

When she came down to the kitchen, she paused in surprise. Logan had already gathered fresh eggs and set a pail of milk on the counter, with another note pinned by a small knife.

Thought I could make things easier for you.

A soft laugh slipped from her lips. “Mercy, Logan…” she murmured fondly, shaking her head. She set about making breakfast, whipping up pancakes and scrambled eggs, then hesitated before packing everything neatly into a basket. She added sandwiches and poured the warmed milk into a jar. She didn’t left anything for herself because she didn’t feel like eating at all.

The barn was alive with the scrape of a shovel when she arrived. “Logan?” she called, stepping in.

The noise stopped at once. A moment later, Logan appeared, pushing a stray lock of damp hair from his forehead. When he saw her, he grinned wide and strode over, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She leaned into him for just a second, before lifting the basket a little.

“I brought you breakfast,” she said softly.

“Aww,” he murmured, kissing her again, “thank you.”

Her stomach rumbled then, betraying her. Logan’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at her.

“You eaten yet?” he asked.

She hesitated then gave a small shake of her head.

“Why not?” His voice carried quiet reproach as he tipped her chin up so she had to look at him.

“I… I wanted to eat with you,” she lied. The truth was food had been hard for her lately—the smell, the taste, all of it turned her stomach. Mama Becca had explained that it was normal, part of the “expectin’ journey,” but it didn’t feel normal to her. She felt strange in her own body, tired all the time, she was on the verge of tears for some reason like an alien had taken over her.

And this punishment—watching him wear himself down yesterday until he came home aching and stinking of manure—had only made it worse. She had prayed silently last night that Mama Becca would let him off, but she hadn’t, and now here he was again, shoveling until his back ached.

He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Well, let’s not eat in here. This barn ain’t no place for a lady.”

Taking her hand, he led her outside, around to the side of the barn. There, he made a makeshift table: a hay bale with a cloth draped over it, an upturned bucket serving as a seat. Oma’s heart softened. He unpacked the basket carefully, portioning out the food.

Oma sat quietly, watching him. She was glad now she’d packed everything. Her little lie about wanting to eat with him might’ve been exposed if the food had been too little.

When he brought out only a single fork and knife, Logan shot her a look.

“I forgot to pack for us both,” she admitted, giving him a sheepish smile.