A Bride for Keeps (10 page)

He grabbed her tablecloth off the table and folded it for a pillow. He tromped outside
and grabbed the horse’s blanket.

Though the door opened and closed numerous times, she didn’t so much as move. He lowered
himself onto the floor and tried to make the blanket cover the majority of his body.
Her rhythmic breathing was both unsettling and comforting. He was no longer alone.
But he didn’t feel any less lonely curled on the floor across from the bed.

Once his vision adjusted to the dark, he tried to make out her face.

Her generous lips and the dark rim of eyelashes curving on her cheeks were barely
discernible. Her hair, loose and wavy, blended with the shadows. The desire to twirl
her hair
around his fingers would keep him awake, so he turned to the wall and willed himself
to sleep.

Julia stretched and turned toward the light. Rays of morning sun illuminated the dingy
room. The door stood ajar. She pulled the quilt over her head.

Bolting upright, she squinted beside her, then around the room.

The tablecloth lay wadded up in the corner atop a small tick she was sure hadn’t been
in the cabin yesterday. So that’s where he’d slept. If her feet had complained about
their sleeping arrangements, she was sure Everett’s muscles hollered at him for how
they’d been treated. How could one sleep with no coverings on a plank floor with large
drafty gaps?

No food smells filled the room, only whiffs of coffee.

She wiggled her toes against her boots, her feet angry with how they’d been kept all
night. She wrapped the quilt around herself for warmth and walked to the door.

At the well, a single crow perched at its edge. The oxen tore grass in the nearby
pasture. No Everett. Surely he wasn’t going to try to pretend they didn’t live together.
She made more coffee, scrambled some eggs, and waited.

She ate her food before it grew cold and stared at the tick and tablecloth on the
floor in the corner.

A few hours later, she threw Everett’s cold eggs into the chicken yard and tromped
to the barn. “Ready to go, boys?” she murmured to the oxen while fumbling with hooking
them to the wagon. “I sure am.”

Everett’s stomach growled. He’d been stupid to leave without breakfast, but he hadn’t
wanted to wake his wife. Her sleeping face looked happier than before he’d blown out
the lamp last night.

She’d have plenty of days in the future to wake ahead of the rooster’s crow. One day
off wouldn’t hurt anything. She’d have their whole lifetime together to work.

Whistling a tune in time with the horse’s steps, he turned Blaze up the familiar path.
The rabbits he’d shot hung from his saddle and bounced against his legs. He might
not feel like he could fully handle being around her, but he could start the process
of showing Julia she didn’t have to dread a relationship with him. He would begin
with gifts—what could be gleaned from the prairie, anyway. Nothing he could afford
would impress a city woman. Not one who wore a traveling dress that cost more than
Rachel Stanton’s entire wardrobe.

Hopefully Julia knew a good way to prepare rabbit. He’d skin them for her before heading
out to the fields. At the paddock he let Blaze in to graze and walked into the shack.

The small room was empty, her quilt twisted in a heap at
the foot of the bed. She’d made eggs for breakfast, but there were none leftover.
He put his shotgun above the door and laid the rabbits on the table. Heading to the
well, bucket in hand, he glanced around, listening for her.

He quit whistling. Was she in the barn?

He pulled the overlarge door open. The interior’s stillness caused the hair on his
neck to stand at attention. His empty hands clenched, and he wished his gun still
resided within his grip. Dimple and Curly were not in their stalls. The wagon no longer
waited against the north wall. Everett chewed on the side of his cheek and checked
his desire to swear.

She’d left him. Just like the other brides. But this one had the audacity to take
his team with her.

He glared at the straw-littered floor and gritted his teeth. His savings weren’t enough
to replace the team, tack, and wagon and still have enough to see him through the
winter if his crops failed. She could have left him without causing so much trouble.
Sure, he’d be made fun of, left unable to marry again, and without help. But how dare
she take his livelihood with her?

He raced over to Blaze. “Sorry to cut your break short, boy, but we’ve got a woman
to chase down.”

Everett kicked Blaze to a gallop. Ahead, Julia’s bonnet ribbons flitted behind her
as she drove the team toward Salt Flatts. Thankfully, she hadn’t tried to forge off
in another direction, or he might not have found her. Relief, crippled with anger,
surged through his body. He pushed Blaze faster.

Had she planned to leave his team unattended at the train depot? Any number of drifters
or boomers would have stolen them once they realized no one claimed the wagon.

Blaze’s hooves thundered as he neared Julia. She yanked on the reins. The wrong thing
to do. But thankfully, Dimples and Curly barely changed speed.

Everett’s body tensed as he called, “Whoa.”

His well-behaved team settled to a stop. He turned hard in his saddle to glare at
her. “Why take my oxen? Didn’t you realize I would need them?” Blaze pranced under
him, so he relaxed the pressure his legs exerted on the horse’s sides.

Her eyes grew rounder. “I didn’t know. You . . . didn’t have them with you, so . . .
I figured it’d be all right.”

“You figured that would be all right?” He tempered his voice, not wanting to yell
at a woman. “I can’t work without them.”

“But you didn’t use them yesterday.” She played with the neckline of her dress. Couldn’t
the woman leave her collar alone?

“And so if I don’t use them once in a while, I don’t need them anymore?” Blaze sidestepped
again. Everett pulled on the horse’s reins with more jerk than necessary. “Did you
not think someone would steal my team if you just left them hitched to a post? You
could have at least ridden to the Stantons’ and had them take you to town instead
of abandoning my animals in Salt Flatts.”

“Why would I abandon them?” Her face had lost its pretty pink color.

He almost wanted to apologize for causing her to pale, but he wouldn’t, not when she
ought to feel bad.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Wouldn’t they be fine for a few minutes in
front of the general store?” Her brows met in the middle, and she cocked her head.
“Or did you think . . .” Her face relaxed, and she placed a finger to her lips.

His heart sidestepped with Blaze. Hot shame crept up his neck. “So you weren’t going
to ride away with my team?” He swallowed hard. “You . . . weren’t going to take the
train?”

She tilted her head and laid both hands in her lap. “Did you think I was leaving?
With no trunk?” One eyelid was lower than the other. Adorable and maddening.

He glanced in the back. Nothing but dirt and straw filled the corners. “Uh . . .”

She turned her head to look toward the team. “You were not around yesterday, and you
didn’t let me know where you were going this morning.” She played with the leather
straps in her hands and continued in a soft voice. “I figured I needed to be about
my work. I would have asked you, if I knew where you were, but . . . We needed supplies,
but I didn’t . . . think.” She fiddled with the reins. “I shouldn’t have taken the
wagon.”

He squirmed in the saddle, wishing he hadn’t run after her in a fury. “I’m sorry that
I thought—”

“I wasn’t running, Everett.” Her head shook decisively, and she took a slow breath
before turning to him. “But now that you’re here, would you like me to purchase supplies
with my own money or your credit? I would have asked earlier, but . . .”

Could he feel any more of a fool? She was doing as he wanted, looking after his homestead
without being asked, and in a blind rage, he’d called her a thief. Giving her more
reason to find him contemptible. Good start at curing her fear of men.

“My credit, of course. Carl will do that for you, no questions.”

She nodded and collected the reins. “Will you be joining me in town?”

He ached to flee her presence more than his stomach yearned for food. “No, thank you.
I have work at home.”

“I made a list. Would you like to check it over and see if you need to add anything?”

“Uh . . . no.” He coughed and attempted to pull his voice down an octave, back into
its normal range. “You just get whatever you think we need.” Even if she used more
credit than his crops would bring in this summer, he wouldn’t say a thing.

“Thank you, Everett.”

He couldn’t even look at her. “No need to thank me.” She had nothing to thank him
for. He swallowed hard. “I’m right sorry that I assumed you were leaving. It’s just
that . . .” She didn’t need to know how many other women had found him not good enough
to stick around for. “I’m sorry.”

He tipped his hat at her nod and kicked Blaze’s flanks for home. He ought to go with
her into town for supplies, but he just couldn’t.

When Julia returned home yesterday, Everett had apologized again, but the second the
words were out of his mouth, he’d fled to the barn. Whatever had possessed the man
to think she’d run away? Didn’t he realize she’d not have become a mail-order bride
if she had tons of options for her life? She had married and given up her last name
for his. She was stuck.

She flipped her potato cake over, the hot oil popping out of the skillet and burning
her hand for a short second. Maybe
stuck
wasn’t a very good word to use around Everett. It would play to her advantage for
him not to know she had nowhere to go and that her continued presence relied on how
he treated her. That would keep him from pushing to become intimate anytime soon.
Then once a pattern of nonphysical friendship
became routine, they would simply continue the habit. She hoped it would be that simple.

She set the table and sliced some bread. A quick glance out the window revealed no
Everett.

He said he’d return for lunch. Was his promise empty? Empty promises were not good.
If he couldn’t keep this small one, why would he keep the one she’d wrangled out of
him when she agreed to marry him?

Shouts in the yard snatched her attention, and she stepped out the door. A wagon pulled
around the barn. It wasn’t the Stantons.

Her teeth bit into her lip. She didn’t feel comfortable welcoming people into the
house without Everett. The shack didn’t feel like her place yet. More like she was
intruding upon the dilapidated structure. She wiped her hands on her apron and forced
herself outside.

“Ho there, neighbor!” A vaguely familiar skinny man stood and jumped off his seat.
A shiver ran down her spine; this man’s slimy leer had given her gooseflesh at the
barn raising.

“Hello, Ned.” Everett’s voice boomed from her right. He came around the corner and
swiped off his hat. “Helga, good morning.”

Julia heaved a sigh of relief. The silent woman had been hidden by her husband on
the bench seat. Welcoming her into the house would have been fine, but her husband . . .
Julia stepped into the sun and smiled, but the smell of burning potatoes stopped her.
“Food! Excuse me.” She ran back in to scrape the cakes off the pan. She frowned at
her two slightly charred lumps of potatoes.

The group of three stepped through the door.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have enough for everyone, but give me a
moment and I’ll make more.” Scowling at the two blackened disks she and Everett would
be eating, she grabbed another few spuds and began peeling the skins off in long curls.

“We’ve already eaten, ma’am.” Ned held his hat in his hand, his mouth in a crooked
smile.

She stopped halfway through the potato. Like the eyes of the patrons at Halson’s bar,
where she’d learned to cook, Ned’s squinty eyes roved over her body while he talked.
“But I could always use more lunch if you’re offering. I bet you couldn’t help but
make everything taste sweet.”

The panic swirling in her gut was the exact reason she’d decided to get married. Ned
could look, but if he touched, her husband would teach him a lesson. She glanced at
Everett. His frown was definitely directed at Ned, but he indicated with his head
that she should offer the Parkers food.

She smiled at the heavy, drooping woman. “Helga? Shall I make you some?”

“No, thank you. You’re very kind.”

The group settled about the table while Julia scrambled potatoes together.

Ned leaned back in his chair. “I had to shoot two coyotes this morning. They were
after my sheep. They killed a lamb before I could even get out of bed and grab the
gun.” At the sound of his spitting on the floor, Julia turned and saw the dark stain
near his boot. Everett shook his head slightly, his eyes pointedly telling her to
refrain from speaking. She gritted her teeth, turned, and dumped the potato mixture
into the pan. How dare Ned spit on her clean floor.

“You’re the best tanner in these parts,” Ned said. “Hate for the furs to go to waste.
Haven’t ever taken care of one.” He let the chair legs thump to the ground. “I know
this is awfully inconvenient, but thought you might help me before
the sun goes down. We’d leave Helga here.” His tone of voice clearly indicated he
regarded his wife as a nuisance.

Julia scraped the pan and glanced at Mrs. Parker in the corner shadows. She looked
more vulnerable and defeated than she had the day of the barn raising. Julia suppressed
the indignation the hefty woman didn’t display. Since Ned made her skin crawl with
his very presence, maybe she couldn’t read the situation correctly. Perhaps he did
right by Helga and she was simply reserved.

“You didn’t bring them with you?” At Ned’s shake of the head, Everett’s face darkened.
“You skinned them already?”

“No, but they ain’t but a few hours old.”

“Next time, you ought to skin them as soon as they’re dead. The skins come off easier.”

The group ate in silence. As soon as the men’s plates were clean, Everett followed
Ned out the door. So much for talking over tonight’s plans.