Read Online Blessings by Kim Vogel Sawyer - Free Book Online Page A

her desires crushed him. She didn’t want him. She didn’t want a home and family. She wanted. . . He couldn’t bring himself to finish the thought. It was wrong what Trina wanted! He wouldn’t give credence to it by letting it invade his mind.
    He got out of the car and slammed the door hard—harder than necessary. It didn’t help. He stomped across the grass to his own back door. Once inside the house, he stood in the little mudroom and peered through the open doorway into the kitchen. How many times had he stepped through his back door and imagined Trina in his kitchen. At his stove, stirring a pot. At his sink, her hands submerged in sudsy water. At his table, serving a meal.
    Shaking his head, he forced himself to walk through the kitchen to the living room. He sank onto the sofa and closed his eyes. The silence of the house pressed around him. The house was less than four months old. He and the men of the community had built it. The ladies—including Trina—had provided meals to keep the men going during the working hours.
    The house still smelled new. New wood, new paint, new rubber from the purchased throw rugs he’d dropped here and there on the floor. Even some new furniture. What there was of furniture. Only a sofa in the living room. The bedroom he’d claimed had the familiar full-size bed, bureau, and bedside table from his old bedroom at his parents’ home. He’d deliberately put off purchasing furniture, knowing his wife would want a say in what to buy.
    Trina would want a say in what to buy.
    Now he’d heard Trina’s say, and he wasn’t sure whether she’d ever choose furniture to fill his house. The house he’d meant to be theirs. He groaned, covering his face with his hands. When he’d fallen in love with Trina Muller, he’d never imagined she would hurt him like she had today.
    “Dear Lord, why does she want something else instead of me?”

    Trina covered her face with her hands, clamping her lips together to silence the sobs that jerked her shoulders in uncontrolled spasms.
    Warm, broad hands curled around her upper arms, drawing her forward, into the shop. Then those hands slipped to her wrists, pulling her hands away from her face. She peered into Andrew’s concerned eyes.
    “Trina, what’s wrong? Didn’t your day go well?”
    “Oh, Andrew!” For a few minutes, she gave vent to the frustration that bubbled upward. As she’d learned to appreciate over the years, he didn’t tell her to stop crying but just stood by and let the tears run their course. When she finally sniffed hard, bringing the raining tears to a halt, he gave her a tissue.
    “Here. Clean up.”
    She rubbed her face clean. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”
    “Don’t apologize to me. Sometimes a person just needs to cry.” He put his hand on her back, guiding her to the tall stools beside the worktable. She climbed onto one, and he leaned against a second one, resting his elbow on the tabletop. “You aren’t one to cry over nothing. Do you want to talk about it?”
    The sweet concern in his voice nearly sent her into another bout of weeping, but she took a few deep breaths and kept control. While Andrew’s attentive gaze remained on her face, she poured out every event of the day, from cleaning up doggy doo and dusting shelves to the car ride home and facing Graham’s disapproval.
    “I want him to understand, but he doesn’t. I know my parents won’t, either.” She twisted the soggy tissue in her hands. “Why is it wrong for me to want to go to school and learn how to take care of animals? Why would God give me this desire if I wasn’t meant to pursue it? Why can’t Mama and Dad and Graham let me be the person I want to be?”
    To her surprise, Andrew didn’t immediately validate her questions. Instead, he walked slowly around to the opposite side of the table and braced both palms against it. “Why are you asking me these questions, Trina?”
    She blinked in confusion. “Who else