She turned from the stove and smiled at him. “Are you always this noisy when you get home at the end of a long day of work?”
He shrugged. “No idea. Until yesterday, I lived with my family on the farm I grew up on. This is all new to me.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re having the new life with me. It’s strange to me to have someone live with me after being here alone.”
“How long have you been here?” Darryl asked, setting his lunch pail on the counter and sinking into one of the kitchen chairs.
“This is my second year. I was here for the fall and spring semesters last year, and then I went home for the summer. Now I’m back. So I’ve been here a year but only part of a year.” She pulled a loaf of bread from the oven and set it on the counter. “I hope you’re hungry. I made a pork roast, mashed potatoes and gravy, carrots, and fresh bread.”
“It all smells wonderful. Are you always going to spoil me this way?”
She laughed. “Don’t count on it. I get so involved in grading papers, I might forget to cook at times. I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all I can ask. Didn’t you say that to the boys yesterday?”
“Yes, I did. And I meant it.” Rica served the food onto two plates. “How was your first day working with Harv?”
“It’s a good thing I’m used to hard work because he wasn’t kidding about how behind he is. I learned a lot of new things today. I think I’ll enjoy the job, but it’s a lot to get used to.”
“I can’t imagine that working in a sawmill would be easy work.” She set the plates on the table and filled two glasses with milk.
“It’s not, but that’s all right. I’ll be a little sore as I get used to the new motions. My body is strong, but it’s farmer strong. It’s going to have to get sawmill strong.”
“Is the wage fair?” she asked.
He laughed. “You know, we still haven’t talked about a wage. I should maybe discuss that with him. We just jumped into work, and with as loud as the saw is all day, it’s hard to actually talk to each other.”
“It’s still information you might want to have. A teacher’s pay isn’t great, but with a house being furnished, it’s a lot better than it could be. If I didn’t love it so much, I don’t know that I could continue.”
As they ate, he talked about what the job had entailed. “I was surprised you weren’t at my sister’s when I got there at the end of the day. I thought we’d decided you were going to walk home with me.”
“Yes, but then I realized I wouldn’t be able to have supper ready if we did that, and I really wanted to fix a nice meal on our first night as husband and wife. Well, the first night I cooked for you.”
“Did you get all your papers graded?”
She nodded. “I did. I have to plan lessons for this week yet, but if you’re really going to take a nap tomorrow, I’ll have plenty of time then.”
“I probably will take a nap. It’s not something I usually do, but I feel like I should be my best for my job, and I won’t be while I’m sleep-deprived.”
Rica smiled at that. “I admire your work ethic.”
Darryl laughed. “Is that because it’s so similar to yours?”
“Probably. I’m glad I married a man who understands hard work and cares so much about doing what’s right for his employer. I can’t imagine being married to someone who doesn’t give his all one hundred percent of the time.”
“I think you’ll find we agree on things like that.”
“Good. That matters a lot to me.” After supper, Rica did the dishes while he rested on the sofa, talking to her the whole while.
“Do you want me to help fix supper some nights?”
Rica shook her head. “I don’t think so. Do you know how to cook?”
“No earthly idea. I just thought it would be nice to offer.” He watched her move efficiently. “I can help with dishes some nights.”
“Did you help with kitchen chores at home?”
“Oh, no. My parents were very old-fashioned about things like that. The girls helped out in the house while the boys did stuff outside. I milked cows, helped in the fields, and all that sort of thing. My sisters kept the house clean and cooked and minded the younger children.”
“So do you even know how to wash dishes?” she asked.
“Well, no, but I could learn. I’m learning how to work at a sawmill.”
“I’ll do the dishes. If I get sick, I’ll probably ask for help, though.”
“That sounds fair. If I get sick, I will not ask you to help at the sawmill.” He grinned at the idea. “Do you ever wear your hair down?”
She blinked a bit at the change of subject. “No, it’s unruly. I look much more schoolteachery with it up.”
“I’ve been daydreaming about pulling all those pins from your hair to watch your curls fall since the moment I met you.”
“Even when you thought you were going to marry Gretchen?” Rica asked. She was very surprised to hear him say that because she’d never known a man to think about her in any way other than impersonally.
“Yes. I was already feeling bad that I’d be marrying your friend and thinking about you, but what’s a man to do? I made a promise. I’m so glad it worked out the way it did.”
She put the last dish up and walked over to join him on the sofa. “I can’t believe you’ve been thinking about my hair that way.”
“Trust me, I have.” He reached out and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Your hair is very beautiful. Sexy even.”
“You do know who you’re talking to, don’t you?” Rica felt like in his mind she was transformed into someone else.
“Definitely.” He turned toward her on the sofa, his free hand reaching for her hair. “May I?”
She blushed but nodded. If he wanted to see her hair down so badly, she didn’t have a problem with it. “Yes, of course. You’re my husband.” She belonged to him. Whether she believed it should be that way or not, she knew the laws of the land, and she knew that legally she was his in every way.
He removed each pin he saw and watched as her hair cascaded down around her shoulders. When he thought he was finished, he ran his fingers through her hair and found a couple of more pins. “Will you wear your hair down for me at home?” He pulled one strand of hair straight and found that it was much longer than it seemed.
She nodded. “If you want me to. Do you really like my hair that much?”
Darryl couldn’t even believe she was asking him that. Had no man ever told her how beautiful her hair was before? “Yes! There’s just something about it. When your hair is all pinned to the top of your head that way, you seem like the perfect schoolteacher. Then I take it down and . . . well, you don’t look like a schoolmarm anymore.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
He shrugged. “I enjoy the pretty schoolmarm, but I think it’s going to be very easy to love the beautiful girl who cooks wonderful meals for me.” He ran his fingers through her hair, thoroughly enjoying how it felt against his skin. “Do you have to braid it for bed? Or can you sleep with it free?”
She laughed. “You’re obsessed.”
“Probably. Can you sleep with it free?”
She shook her head. “If I did that it would take me an hour to brush it out every morning.”
“I could brush it for you . . .”
“Have you ever done that?”
“Only once. Doris got gum stuck in her hair. Ma was too busy to mess with it, so I brushed it out for her. But she’s my sister. I know I would feel very differently brushing your hair.”
“If you really want to, I’ll let you do it sometime.” To her, her hair was just another chore. Something else she had to do every day to look like the proper schoolteacher. It was obviously something very different to him.
“Really? Where’s your hairbrush?”
“Now?” She bit her lip, a little surprised that he seemed so interested in brushing her hair.
“Now. I know
it seems strange, but your hair fascinates me. It was the first thing I noticed about you, and I was immediately attracted.”
“All right.” She got up and walked across the cabin to the dresser. Her brush was laying on top of it. She picked it up and carried it back to him.
He had her sit on the floor at his feet, and he carefully stroked the brush over her hair. She leaned her head forward and felt tingles through her body as he pulled it through her curls over and over. “How many strokes do you do?”
“One hundred every night,” she said. She hated brushing her hair, but there was something very sensual about what he was doing.
“Maybe we can make this our nighttime ritual. Every night I’ll do the one hundred strokes for you.” He loved the idea of getting his hands on her hair every single night. Maybe it was strange, but he didn’t care.
“I guess. To me it’s just another chore.”
“Oh, trust me. It’s so much more to me than that.” He finally stopped and handed her the hairbrush, surprised at how very aroused he was. “I’m going to go for my walk. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” He needed some cold night air to be able to get into bed with her.
Rica got up off the floor and stared at the door he’d closed behind him. She felt like something special had just happened, and she just wished she understood exactly what it meant.
Chapter 6
Sunday was a bit odd for Rica. At church, people she barely knew were coming over for an introduction to Darryl. She saw looks in some of the mamas’ eyes, telling her they were thinking of him for a daughter. Many of the young ladies of town came over to get an introduction, only to see their faces fall when she introduced him as her husband.
Darryl took it all in calmly. He stayed close to Rica, wishing the other young ladies in town would realize he was taken. He’d never had so many women interested in him, which made sense because everyone in Beckham knew him. Here he was a stranger.
As Rica watched it all, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was regretting their hasty marriage. She’d experimented with a new hairstyle that morning, which allowed many of the tendrils of her hair to fall freely, which she knew he liked, but there were certainly other women in town who he would prefer to spend his life with.
After church, he slipped his arm around her waist as they left the building. “I’m glad that’s over. I felt like a piece of meat at auction in there!” he said as they walked away.
Rica laughed aloud. “You certainly have a way with words, Darryl. Have you ever thought of being a writer?”
“Me? A writer? I think the world would open up and suck me inside if I ever contemplated something like that. It’s against the natural order of things for certain.” What a thought. A man like he was couldn’t do anything intellectual like writing. He was meant to work with his hands.
She walked toward a meadow where she’d once seen a man and woman picnicking, knowing that’s where she wanted their picnic to be. It had been in the spring, just before school let out for the year, and ever since, she hadn’t been able to walk by the meadow without thinking of doing the same. “I think you could do it. Your natural language makes me think of poetry.”
He shook his head. “I think you have me confused with your other husband. Where is he?”
“Excuse me?” she asked, very confused.
“The husband you have me confused with. I will need to find him and strangle him. I’m a one-woman man, and I need a woman who feels the same about me.” He winked at her, making her blush.
“You are a crazed lunatic at times, Darryl Miller. How did I get so lucky as to have you in my life?” She stopped in the middle of the meadow and opened the picnic basket, removing the quilt she’d added. As she smoothed it out, she thought about making a special quilt for their bed. She wanted something pretty now that she didn’t live alone. She was amazed at how much more she cared about little details, now that she was sharing her life with Darryl.
“I’m the lucky one.”
As soon as they were sitting in the middle of the quilt, she carefully unpacked their lunch. She’d made fried chicken, potato salad, and chocolate cookies. She also had a big jar of lemonade. Fixing their plates, she handed one to him.
“Thank you for making lunch for us,” he said softly. “You make me feel like I’m the most important man in the world, and I’ve never felt that way.” He leaned toward her, cupping her cheek with one hand, kissing her softly. Without warning he plucked a few of the pins from her hair, watching some of it fall to her shoulders in a cascade of curls. “Have I ever told you how very much I love your hair?”
She laughed softly. “Please don’t ever touch my hair until after four on schooldays. I have this feeling that you will never be content unless my hair is sticking every which way.”
“You’re right. I’ve never been mesmerized by a woman’s hair before, but there’s something about yours that really makes me a little bit crazy. I want to spend all my time touching it, and brushing it, and just looking at it.”
“If you’re trying to make me feel courted and admired, you’re doing a very good job of it.”
He grinned. “Of course I want you to feel that way, but I’m not doing anything special to make it happen. I’m just acting like I naturally act with a beautiful woman beside me.”
She felt her heart give a little flutter as she smiled at him. “You, Darryl Miller, are good for my self-esteem. I don’t think I’ve ever had a man interested in me in all my twenty-five years, and now I sit here with you, basking in the attention of a very handsome man. I worried at church today that you would regret our marriage with so many beautiful young ladies to choose from, but you seem to be content with me. I’m not sure why, but I am grateful that God sent you into my life.”
He reached forward and rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip. “I know we’re doing everything sort of backwards, but I don’t ever want you to think I wouldn’t have chosen you if given a chance. I was attracted to you immediately, and I would have liked a chance to know you before marriage, but we can make it work now.”
“I hope so.” She was still worried about it, and she wasn’t sure why. Probably because of the interest the other women had shown in him at church. If he was a sought-after man, why would he choose her?
“Look at Harv and Doris. They married even sooner after they met than you and I did. And they’re happy. Harv told me yesterday that he loves Doris and wouldn’t change her. I can see on Doris’s face that she loves him. If those two can make it work with four children involved, we can make it work with just the two of us.”
Rica shrugged. “Maybe they were able to make it work because of the children. Maybe the children added another dimension to the whole thing that made them want to make it work more, so they tried harder. Is that possible?”
Darryl looked at her. “No one wants a marriage to work more than I do at this moment. I think you’re an incredible woman, Rica Miller, and I want us to look back in a few months and wonder what we ever worried about in the beginning.”
She smiled. “I need to remember that we’re both fully invested in our marriage. It’s not just one of us needing to make it work. It’s two.”
“Three.”
She frowned at him. “Three?”
“I believe God is in our marriage as well—a cord made with three strands is stronger than one made with only two. Don’t you think? We’ll use that cord to tie us together for the rest of our lives.”
She smiled and unwrapped a small pile of cookies from a cloth napkin. “For that, you get a cookie!”
He laughed. “Anything for cookies!”
After they had cleaned up their picnic, they walked back toward the teacherage. “I hope there aren’t any problems with my job now that I’m married. In a lot of areas, teachers aren’t allowed to marry during their term, but that’s not part of my contract here.”
“Are you worried about it?” he asked.
“Not really, but there are some women in th
is town who would do anything to make my life difficult. I just hope none of them are on the school board.” She was thinking of Mrs. Lindon. The older woman caused her enough trouble just by sending her children to school.
“Hopefully not. I don’t know where we’d live if that happened, but we’d figure it out. Do you plan to continue teaching for a long time?” He knew eventually he’d have to sort out permanent housing for them, but he wanted to know how soon.
Rica shrugged. “Until children come along probably. I don’t see being able to keep working after I have them, but I would love to work up until they’re born.”
He nodded. “That works for me. If the school board tries to fight you, we’ll fight back.” He opened the door to the teacherage and let her precede him inside. “Are you really all right with me taking a nap? I know we’re trying to spend time together today, but I’m so tired!”
“Of course. I’ll do my lesson plans for the week while you sleep. You need to be able to work tomorrow.”
He leaned down and kissed her, his fingers automatically winding through her hair and plucking out the rest of the pins. He held out his hands, palm up, with all of the pins in them. “Oops.”
Rica took the pins and walked over to put them on her dresser. “Oops? I think that was a little more deliberate than an oops.” She picked up her bag where she kept her school books and opened it. “I’ll be as quiet as I can. If I make too much noise rustling papers around, I can go to the school and work there.”
“Did you talk to people about the school dance on Friday night?” he asked as he removed his shirt. He’d sleep in his pants to keep from offending her delicate sensibilities, but she could deal with seeing him shirtless.
“I did. I even got Mrs. Gottweiler to put up a sign on the bulletin board at the mercantile. We’re going to have cookies and cakes, punch, and lots of dancing. She told me there’s a group of men in town who love to play their instruments together, and she’s going to get that arranged. I’ll have my students make decorations for the dance, and we’ll start it at seven sharp.”
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