“I do hope John put the pump near the kitchen door. It’s the little things that make a woman happy,” she explained with a laugh.
“At my mother’s house, where I was staying waiting for him to finish, she didn’t want the pump near the house because it caused my father to track in mud. She insisted the pump be in the yard, but it made for a terrible trek carrying all those buckets for a bath,” May explained, expecting Elizabeth to understand the ordeal.
Elizabeth blinked, confused for a moment. It never dawned on her that there would not be water in the house! Her childhood home had a pump inside of the kitchens and the servants would heat the water for the copper slipper tub mother had. She knew things would be different but it was still surprising to hear it mentioned so casually and matter-of-factly.
“Tell me more about how your day would go and how it was at your mother’s home. What else do you want, if you could have anything in your home?” Elizabeth hedged, trying to get as much information as possible. She was fascinated and bemused at the same time. She was ready for change, but it might be a bit of getting used to!
May went on for some time about things she would love to have: a large pantry, a hen house nearby for fresh eggs, and a stove with more than two burners to cook. Elizabeth swallowed slowly, intimidated by the idea of actually wanting a stove.
Do people seriously dream of this
? she wondered and felt instantly ashamed at how unprepared she was for what lay ahead. What if, as a nanny, she was expected to cook? She had never made any meal as of yet!
Mornings consisted of a pot of chocolate and a slice of toast. Surely she could make that on her own? Afternoon luncheons were usually small cucumber sandwiches, her favorite, and tea. Dinners were typically an affair for her household. Mother would have a roast or pheasant prepared by the staff, along with gravy and vegetables. Soft yeast rolls were always on the table when her father sat down with the family for dinner. If they were going out for the evening, the maids would prepare something easily for the family, such as a stew or meat pie. All of which she had no idea where to even start to make.
Elizabeth could feel her mouth watering and asked calmly, “May, how do you make your favorite meal? Step by step, if you please,” she added.
Excited, May grinned to be able to share with her new friend. “Let me tell you, John adores a lovely apple pie. I always try to have one waiting for him when the trees give up the fruits. The apples I cut into chunks and sprinkle with a bit of sugar, if we happen to have it. But you don’t have to use it. Sometimes, we have a great season at the market and we have sugar and cinnamon. Other times, not so much. But if you have really tender apples you don’t need them. I like to use a bit of mace, too. That gives it a nice flavor, as well. The crust is a bit different. I make a larded crust like my mother makes. You can’t work the dough too much or it won’t go into the tin right. Mother says you need to use a bit of cold water, so I usually make the crust first thing in the morning else the water is too warm and it sticks to everything.” May rambled about John’s pies for quite a while. Elizabeth nodded encouragingly, listening to every word and asking May to elaborate if she didn’t understand what the woman was explaining.
Occasionally, Abigail would chime in that she helped her mama make the last pie for her father which embarrassed Elizabeth. This young girl could make a pie but she, a grown woman, could not. She honestly had no idea that there was so much involved in it!
Maybe she could just purchase a pie if the need ever arose to have to serve one. After all, how expensive could a pie be? The ad stated that the nannies would never lack for work, so she assumed she would be comfortable financially once she got settled into her new life.
May chatted amicably for quite some time. She enjoyed being able to share and Elizabeth seemed eager to learn all about her recipes. Maybe she would like to learn how to fix something, May offered her newest acquaintance.
Seeing her nod in agreement, May beamed in delight. “First meal in my new home will be John’s favorite. He likes a nice chicken for supper. The chicken I don’t care for as much. It’s a bit too much work. John will snap its neck for me and bring it to me for the plucking… Elizabeth, are you okay?” May stopped suddenly seeing the other woman’s pale visage.
Elizabeth closed her eyes and felt her stomach turn. “I’m fine,” she whispered. She could not believe that someone had to snap a chicken’s neck, but it made sense. There was never a chicken’s head on the platter Bessie brought to the table for Mother. It was always crispy-skinned and dressed with vegetables. “Please, continue. I’m sorry. I am just hungry and ready to stretch my legs once more,” she explained.
May nodded sympathetically. “Me, too,” she said enthused. “But I am frankly thrilled I am not on top of the coach this round. As I was saying, John loves chicken. Once he takes the head, I will boil the body for a few minutes to help with the plucking. I save the feathers and make a pillow or ticking for the bedding. That is my least favorite part. The feathers get everywhere! I will then gut it, yanking the gizzard, heart and intest-… oh my word! Elizabeth!” May exclaimed as she watched the young lady slide into an ungraceful heap onto the floor of the coach beside her feet.
“Driver! Stop the coach!” she screamed trying to get his attention by beating on the wall of the coach. She felt the coach pull to the side and come to a stop fairly quickly. The cowboy that had assisted them up from the river was the person that swung open the coach door.
Cole was following beside the coach when he suddenly saw it veer to the right and the driver yank back on the reins.
That’s strange
, he thought. They were not due to stop for another hour or so and it would be the last stop for the night. As it slowed, he heard a high-pitched voice inside yelling, “Elizabeth! Elizabeth!” He leapt off his horse once the coach came to a stop. Cole yanked the door open and was alarmed to see his dark-haired lady out cold on the floor. The blonde was kneeling over her and tapping her face frantically.
“What happened?” he demanded harshly, making the woman reel back as if burned.
May was beside herself and hoped that Elizabeth was all right. The cowboy, who had been on horse, climbed forward into the coach, grabbed Elizabeth bodily like an avenging angel. She watched as he pulled her from the coach and swung her into his arms like a limp doll. May clamored out of the coach and Abigail was quick on her mother’s heels behind her to see the excitement.
When Cole had picked up Elizabeth’s limp form from the floor of the coach, frustration and surprise clouded his thoughts.
What had happened? Was she all right
? He could feel her body warm against his and struggled not to identify what was Elizabeth’s body and what was the corset he was feeling. He carried her over to a small bit of shade beside a tree.
They were early stopping but this might be desperately needed if she could not handle the trip. She would be in for a long several days out here crossing the plains. Afternoon thunderstorms, Indians, wild horses, and open land as far as the eye could see … all very much different from the life that she must have come from judging by her apparel and demeanor. He set her down, grasped her chin and patted her cheek several times.
“Elizabeth, wake up. Are you all right?” he prodded, trying to get a reaction from the woman.
Was she overheated in that getup?
He felt her forehead and tried again to wake her. Cole turned back to the group that was gathering around him.
The driver spat a wad of tobacco and unceremoniously announced, “If she’s dead, we’re leaving her. I got no use in hauling a corpse to Fort Worth.”
Cole rolled his eyes at the man and was tempted to shoot him for saying such a thing in front of the child and the mother. Hell no, he wasn’t leaving anyone and he knew she wasn’t dead. He could see her breasts rising underneath her blouse and was desperately trying not to notice.
“What happened, ma’am?” he asked again, a bit nicer as to get an answer out of the woman. “What’s your name and what happened before she fainted?” he asked.
Standing together, May spoke quickly trying to elaborate on what happened inside the coach. “I am May and this is my daughter, Abigail. I am not sure what happened with Elizabeth. One moment we were talking about cooking and the next she was on the floor. Maybe she needs some water? She said she was feeling sickly but asked me to keep telling her about my husband’s favorite foods. I was explaining how to fix a chicken and when I said I gutted it, she slumped down. You think that made her pass out?” she asked, amazed that someone could be that sensitive to dressing a chicken for dinner. Surely not! May watched curiously as the tall cowboy grinned and turned back to Elizabeth.
Cole said “May and Abigail- it’s very nice to meet you. Could you get her some water, maybe?” He turned to the driver and the hired guard, both laughing and exchanging a few lewd comments.
“Maybe we should set up for supper here and take a break. That will give us a chance to water the horses and for her to come to,” he said trying to distract them. They slapped each other on their backs and moved to feed and water the team of horses.
Cole turned to Elizabeth once again with a grin. Apparently, she did not fancy gutting a chicken. She was as delicate in constitution as her hands were to touch.
“Elizabeth, it’s time for you to wake up,” he said softly and ran a finger lightly over her cheek, admiring how smooth and flawless it was. He saw her blink several times and shake her head as if to shake the fog.
“Elizabeth, are you all right? You passed out in the coach,” he explained simply and moved to tuck a curl behind her ear. Her dark hair looked like heavy brown swirls of chocolate and her perfect, pale shell of an ear looked so delicate against the curls. He traced the swirl of her ear, mesmerized by his tan hands against her pale skin.
Elizabeth was out of sorts and almost gave a small moan at feeling his hand brush back her hair. His finger was extremely warm against her cheek and ear. Feeling him close to her, his face nearby, was making her senseless. She looked at him and caught her breath. His tanned face was entirely too close and he was smiling at her. He had a glint of humor in his eyes that was enchanting. This cowboy was extremely handsome and not what she needed in her life, especially after freeing herself so quickly from another man.
“So you don’t like gutting chickens, huh?” she heard him ask softly and felt bile rise in her throat. “Not at all. Excuse me,” she said and quickly turned away, trying to keep herself from throwing up.
Cole watched her pale as he teased her. Her pink lips still had no color to them and he felt slightly bad teasing her, even though it was kind of funny. He handed her a flask and masked his grin. “Here, have a sip of this. It will help calm you a bit.”
Elizabeth gratefully took the flask, unscrewed the top and eyed the opening. She hesitated putting her mouth on it not knowing who all had been there before her. She glanced at his face, noting the smirk he was trying to hide. His lips were the most perfect shape, she noted absently. Turning up the flask, she took a small slip and began coughing. Her throat and nose felt like they were on fire! Eyes watering, she glanced back at him and saw him smiling. “What was that? I think it’s gone rancid,” she gasped and coughed again.
Cole watched her cheeks pinken a bit prior to taking a sip of his whiskey and wished he knew what brought that on. He kept the alcohol with him at all times when he was traveling. Whiskey kept him warm if it was frigid out and he also used it to wash out wounds. It burned like hell but would “straighten your backbone and get your gumption up” as his old cowpoke used to tell him. His father frowned on it, but also kept a flask with him at all times. It was a necessity on the trails because you just never knew what to expect.
He watched her cough and choke a bit but was relieved to see the color return to her sweet, pouty lips. Her face looked flushed now and she was fully revived from her faint. She was also sputtering like a wet hen. He did laugh aloud at her commenting that the whiskey was rancid.
“Nope, it’s not rancid. It’s supposed to taste like that. It’s a helluva drink and for use in emergencies… or for fun,” he said lightly with a wink. “Want another sip?” he asked encouragingly and pointed at the flask again.
Elizabeth handed it back like it was evil. “I think not.” She wheezed and felt the warmth uncurl in her tummy. “That is vile,” she said, clearing her throat once again. She watched as he took back the metal flask and turned it up, taking a sip. He gave a wince and smiled at her.
“Yeah, it is pretty awful but it can help sometimes. I am Cole Hale. Nice to meet you Elizabeth…?” he left off inquisitively. She was lovely to watch and intrigued him.
Looking away, Elizabeth said softly, “Just Elizabeth, okay?” She did not want to reveal her name nor any more information than he needed for the time being. She did not want to be found nor returned to Indianapolis. She shuddered again thinking of her impending marriage and narrow escape.
Cole watched her carefully. She was running from something and he could appreciate the request for privacy. Everyone had things they did not want to talk about with friends, much less strangers, himself included.
“Nice to meet you just Elizabeth,” he said with a wink. “If you ever want to talk or have another sip of this,” he said shaking the flask at her, “we are both within ear shot of you. You don’t have to pass out to get my attention,” he teased.
Elizabeth said nothing at first and then whispered embarrassed, “Thank you for your offer Mr. Hale.” She was mortified that she has passed out in the coach and caused a scene. The others were all standing in the distance attempting to keep busy, but kept watching the two of them under the tree as well.