Read Online Pieces of Dreams by Jennifer Blake - Free Book Online

have is yours, Melly, and I thought you felt the same way. That's what being married is all about.”
    “I do feel it!” She flung out a hand in a pleading gesture as she sought for words to explain. “But you're making all the decisions for our future. You bought the land, chose the house design; you picked out the paint and wallpaper and arranged the kitchen. You aren't letting me be a part of what you're doing at all. Is that what marriage is supposed to be?”
    “You don't like the house,” he said, his voice tight.
    “Of course I like it! That's not the problem.”
    “You want to change the kitchen.”
    “The kitchen is fine!”
    “Then I don't know what's wrong with you. We want the same things, Melly. We have the same dream of a good, solid life here on the farm, working the land and watching our crops and our children grow and prosper year by year. It's all we've talked about, all we've ever felt was worthwhile.”
    “I still want those things,” she said in desperation, “But don't you see it isn't all I need?”
    His face hardened. “I see you've changed since Conrad came home.”
    Had she? Or had she only remembered the way she used to be before she agreed to marry Caleb? Before she learned to be practical? Before she was forced to accept that the things she conjured up in her mind, the places she would like to see and things she longed to do, were impossible.
    It was not really so much that she and Caleb had the same dream, she thought in sudden insight, but rather she had given up her own so that only his was left.
    That was often the way of it, she knew; she had seen it before with her aunt's friends. So many women became faded shadows of their men without a view or opinion solely their own. And yet she had not expected it with her and Caleb.
    The hardest thing, however, was not giving up all the things that made her different, but knowing that her future husband had no idea she had ever thought of anything else. Or if he did, he actually felt the sacrifice was natural, the way things should be arranged.
    He was wrong.
    He wouldn't accept that, she knew, would never believe their disagreement wasn’t about furniture or money. It didn't matter, she told herself. It was necessary to make a stand somewhere and it might as well be here.
    She stared at him, her eyes dark and a little bleak. Lifting her chin, she said plainly, “I am going to have the parlor set.”
    She turned away without waiting for an answer. Walking through the open front door, she crossed the porch toward where the wagon stood with the horse cropping at a patch of dry grass. She climbed unaided to the seat, then settled her skirts and sat staring straight ahead.
    Caleb came out of the house, secured the front door behind him and crossed to the wagon. The vehicle rocked as he gained his seat. He unwound the reins from the brake handle and sat holding them a few moments before he turned to look at her.
    “Does it seem I'm putting the farm ahead of you, Melly? Is that it?” he asked in low tones. “I didn't mean to. It's just that there's been so much to do. I wanted it all perfect for you when you came here as a bride. There's a lot I'd like to give you some day—another room or two on the house, a nice organ for the parlor, all the pretty doodads and gewgaws that you deserve. It's just that first things come first, to my mind.” He transferred both reins to his left hand and reached out to place his right on her fists that were clenched in her lap. “But I want you to be happy. If you've got your heart set on parlor furniture, then that's what I want you to have. I do love you, Melly.”
    “Oh, Caleb,” she said quietly, but could not go on for the lump in her throat. He was trying his best to be reasonable, and to show her that he cared.
    She looked up at him, letting her gaze roam over his strong, regular features, meeting the straight-forward devotion in his eyes. There was so much fondness between them, so many years and