Pink streaks of light broke through the purplish gray of predawn as the sun ascended into the sky. A harsh wind blew snowflakes the size of quarters over the already snow covered ground below. Everything was covered with the pristine whiteness of snow as the new snowflakes danced on the wind, eager to fall to the ground and take their place among their friends who had invaded the earth before them.
On a tiny farm on the outskirts of the frontier settlement known as Independence, Jeremiah McCloud peered anxiously out of one of the two windows in the sitting room of the log cabin he had built six months earlier, and wondered if they were in for, yet, another of the terrible blizzards that had been terrorizing citizens of Missouri for the past three weeks. He knew that if the weather didn't let up soon, there was a very strong possibility that he and his family would starve to death.
Things were already beginning to look grim. They were already down to the last sacks of dry goods he had purchased before it had turned cold. It being their first year on the farm, harvest hadn't yielded as much as he had hoped. A majority of the wheat, oats, and corn that he had grown had been sold to purchase their meager supplies and for feed to see their small brood of livestock through the winter. They really didn't have much in the way of livestock. Just a pair of matched chestnut geldings who had pulled their laden down wagon all the way from Texas, the one milk cow, Betsy, and three young sows he had hoped to save for breeding come Spring. He knew that if things got worse, that he would have to kill one of the sows.
He was still standing before the window when he heard a soft voice call out to him.
"What is it Jeremiah?"
He turned toward the voice, his blue eyes lighting up as he took in the sight of the woman he loved. Theresa Lynn McCloud stood in the open doorway of the sitting room, watching him with concern and love filled brown eyes. Her long, waist-length auburn hair hung in loose waves down her back and shoulders, contrasting darkly with the sparkling white of her flannel gown. The gown fitted her petite form perfectly, showing off her womanly curves to their best advantage, the fabric stretched taut over her bulging stomach and ending at her ankles.
The look of love and desire that filled her husband's eyes as he admired from across the room, sent shivers of warmth racing through her body. She felt her face blush before his heated gaze, making her swallow with the wave of pleasure that swept over her. Knowing that Jeremiah still found her desirable after six years of marriage, two children and with a currently bulging stomach, made her heart swell with love. Never had she imagined that married life could be so wonderful.
Then again, she hadn't had any role models to look up to in that area of her life. Her parents had fought for as long as she could remember, and ending in the horrible tragedy that had scarred her earlier years. One night after a long bout of drinking, her father had killed her mother and ran off, leaving her alone to fend for herself. That had been when she was ten. An elderly neighbor had taken her in after her mother's funeral and had cared for her until she was old enough to make a life for herself. That had been only two months before she met and fell in love with Jeremiah.
It had been in the summer of 1819. She had recently turned seventeen years old and had moved to Centerville to become a teacher at the local mission. Father Andrew had insisted that she attend one of the church's social activities, knowing that it would do the shy young woman some good. He had even given her some money to make a new dress until the mission's board sent her the money for her first month's salary. That dress had been dark green, with sprigs of a softer green all over it. She had styled it in a simple but serviceable pattern and new that the color brought out the green specks in her brown eyes.
Jeremiah had attended the dance with red haired, green eyed, Cynthia Johns, a young woman he had known all his life. While Cynthia was beautiful and interesting enough, Jeremiah wasn't in love with her. He knew that sooner or later he would have to set Cynthia straight on his real feelings for her, before she decided that they were going to get married. He had barely made the decision to tell Cynthia that he could no longer escort her, when Father Andrew had entered the church with the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her dark hair had been shining from a recent washing, hanging loose around her shoulders so that the red highlights danced in the sunlight. The green dress that she wore was styled much more simpler than the dresses that Cynthia and the other girls were wearing, and yet, it suited her perfectly. It's simple style told him a lot about the girl who wore it. It told him that the young woman before him was interested in more than what the current styles in ladies clothing and millenary were like the other girls present, including Cynthia.
"Jeremiah, what is it?" Theresa repeated as she started towards him.
"It's nothing really. You should go back to bed Theresa. It's much too early for you to be up and too cold to do you or the baby any good." Jeremiah told her gently, moving in front of the window to block her from seeing outside. He really didn't want her to worry more than she already had. It wasn't good for her or the baby she carried.
Theresa's eyes raked over his face knowingly. She stepped quickly out of her embrace an over to the window. What she saw terrified her. Snow was falling so fast, that it was impossible for her to see more than a few inches in front of her. She turned to Jeremiah with a stricken look on her face.
"Why, why didn't you tell me it was snowing again, Jeremiah? Why?" she asked accusingly, her voice rising slightly as panic seized her.
She knew all too well how desperate things had become for them. It was she who tried to scrape together nourishing meals for them and their daughters, while trying to use the food sparingly. To have Jeremiah try to keep her from finding out that it was beginning to snow again, made her realize just how worried he really was. That only served to frighten her even more.
"I didn't tell you it was snowing, because I didn't want you to worry more than was necessary. The doctor told us that worry isn't good for a woman while she's carrying a child. Plus, you had a difficult time carrying Mary Louise and Lucinda the full nine months. 'Member how Dr. Vassen ordered you to bed during the last month? Things are different out here, than in Centerville. One, we're much farther away from town, and second, you haven't has nearly as much nourishment as you should have to keep you and the baby healthy. Please, try and not worry, okay? You know that I would never let anything happen to you or the children?" Jeremiah told her, taking her into his arms and holding her tight.
"I know that Jeremiah. I love you." Theresa told him, lifting her head up to meet his lips.
Jeremiah bent his head and kissed her, relishing the feeling of her close to him. He led her back into the bedroom and helped her onto the four-poster bed in the center of the large room. After helping Theresa back onto the bed and tucking her in, Jeremiah moved to the large stone fireplace that graced the wall of the bedroom and added a couple of logs to the smoking ashes and opened the made sure that the vent was open so that the comforting heat would drift up into the loft and keep their five-year-old daughters from catching a chill. He and Theresa had begun letting the girls sleep in as late as they wanted too, to make the days go by faster and the food to last longer. Then he climbed back into bed and sought the warmth that only Theresa could give him. As long as they were together, he knew that they could get through anything.
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