Leafy maple and oak trees provided spotty shade as Nancy strolled into the village of Fredonia—her new home. Coburn’s gristmill, a three-story gambrel roofed board and batten building with a towering brick smokestack sat at the edge of Canadaway Creek. At the back of the building was a small stone addition and a large waterwheel. The large building reminded her of the stables at home where she’d spent so much time with her beloved mare.
Nancy had known that leaving her loving home in Buffalo would be difficult, but she’d had no idea how lonely she would feel or how deeply she would miss her family.
Straightening her shoulders, she entered Squire White & Son on the opposite side of the street and took her first step toward building a new life. She would make Hal Grayson see that he needed her—even if he didn’t want her—because there was no going back for either of them. Somewhere in his hard head he knew that, but he just wasn’t ready to accept the truth.
Chapter 8
At eight-fifteen, after a long backbreaking day, Hal entered his small house no closer to a solution than he was when he’d left that morning. How was he going to manage the mill and also build furniture for Addison Edwards? There simply weren’t enough hours in a day.
Those thoughts plagued him as he entered the foyer, but two steps inside his jaw dropped. The parlor had been transformed from a disheveled sparsely furnished room to a place that beckoned his exhausted body to sit and relax. Miss Mitchell... Nancy... his wife... had moved the sofa and worn wingback chairs into a small grouping around the fireplace. She’d placed a small carpet in the center and placed a low white oak table, his favorite piece of furniture, atop a worn rug. A flickering candle and a cup of steaming tea sat atop the table. The floor that he and John had covered in mud from their dirty boots had been scrubbed until the hardwood gleamed.
The delicious scent of roasting meat drew his gaze to the kitchen. Nancy stood in the doorway, her expression warm but a bit apprehensive.
“I’d hoped you might be home earlier,” she said, her hands clasped in front of her blue skirt. A brown and white checkered apron hung askew around her slender waist, one of her purchases today he presumed, and a curling tendril of red hair dangled at her neck. “I kept your supper hot for you.”
This morning he’d thought a little fresh air and hard work would clear his mind enough that he could find a suitable solution to their awkward arrangement. He wanted to find a way to make her feel more comfortable in his home, and with him. But perhaps she was doing that for herself. She certainly seemed committed to her duties as his wife, but did those duties extend to sharing a bed?
The thought of taking his beautiful, petite wife in his arms spiked his heartbeat double-time. The idea definitely appealed to him, but they were practically strangers. He wouldn’t take that step in their relationship until he was certain she was comfortable with him. Problem was, he wasn’t comfortable with her and that reinforced the awkwardness. What a mess.
“How did you manage all of this?” He gestured to the inviting parlor to distract his mind from going down that dangerous path. “Did you sit down for a single minute, today?”
“No, and I suspect you didn’t either.” Her cheeks flushed and she stood in the doorway as if making a stand of some sort. “I don’t mean to be... presumptuous, but I thought you might like to bathe before supper. I prepared a bath for myself earlier and just now freshened the water for you. You’ll find clean clothes and linens on the table. You can place your soiled clothing in the crate near the back kitchen door. I’ll enjoy my cup of tea in the parlor while you bathe. Your supper will be ready when you finish.”
Hal stared in stunned surprise. That she had worked so hard to clean his home, their home, and even prepare a bath for him was beyond kind. That she was letting him know he needed a bath, which he was most certainly aware of, made his face burn. His disreputable state wasn’t because he disliked bathing but simply a lack of energy and time at day’s end to fetch and heat water for a bath. Until coming to Fredonia, he’d been a gentleman with gentlemanly habits. But at some point in the last few months, he’d lost that civilized side of himself. And after John died he simply hadn’t cared.
Nancy had just made it painfully clear that she cared. Her forthright manner both shocked and pleased him. However inconvenient it was having a wife, he admired Nancy’s starch and deeply appreciated the many comforts she was providing.
With eager anticipation, he headed to the kitchen to soak his weary bones.
Lantern light created a warm lustrous glow on the pine wainscoting and floorboards that had been scrubbed free of dust and neglect. A pile of fresh linens had been stacked on the sideboard ready for his use. Pressed trousers and a freshly laundered shirt lay across the back of a chair. Intrigued, Hal picked up a pair of his stockings, inspected the toe and slowly shook his head. She’d even laundered his underclothing and darned his stockings.
She’d been doing all of this, cleaning his home and clothing and preparing his supper, tasks requiring hard work, while he’d been whining to himself about his own burdens.
Shame welled up within him and he sat on the chair with a weary sigh. He didn’t want to take her for granted or be inconsiderate, but he simply couldn’t spare a moment of time to help her with chores. He wanted to spare her the backbreaking labor of carting water for laundry and bathing, but he couldn’t be here to tend those chores for her. He wished he could afford to fill their pantry and provide more comforts in their home, but he hadn’t yet established himself. He hadn’t been ready for the financial responsibility of taking a wife, nor had he been emotionally prepared for such a prospect, especially with a woman he didn’t even know. John had merely wanted a homemaker. But Hal wanted to marry for love and passion, neither of which he had time for now.
But what did Nancy want?
Why had she been so eager to marry the first man who crossed her path? She was intelligent and beautiful and had so much to offer. It didn’t make sense why she’d thrown herself on Hal’s mercy knowing full well the course they had set together. She was partially responsible for landing herself in this mess. Still, Hal felt awful about it.
Stripping off his soiled clothing, he dipped his aching hand into the bath water. The liquid heat soothed his scraped knuckles. He stepped into the deep copper tub parked in the corner of the kitchen and let the hot water embrace his weary, aching bones. In that instant he felt intense appreciation for his wife. It must have taken her an hour to prepare such a grand bath. And he’d also seen clean clothes hanging on the line, but his bath water appeared clean and fresh. She must have carted multiple buckets of water inside for washing laundry, then hauled out the soiled water, cleaned the tub, and then carried in that many more buckets to fill the tub for him. Plus, she’d had to heat several pails worth of water to warm his bath, which reached his armpits when he reclined. If he’d had to fetch and heat his own water tonight he’d have bathed in the creek.
Slightly reclining in the tub, his tension and worry dissolved into the steamy water. How long had it been since he’d felt pleasure or comfort of any kind? Since before he’d left Buffalo for certain. Perhaps this is why John had sought a wife. Perhaps he wanted to reclaim a few simple pleasures in exchange for providing a home for a woman. From the moment John and Hal had arrived in Fredonia their lives had consisted of work. Not once had they taken a day, or just an evening, to relax. Hal had believed their situation was temporary and would settle down after they were productive enough to hire help. John disagreed and thought they should hire a man at the mill immediately. He thought they should be taking time to meet folks in town and begin building relationships and making Fredonia a real home.
They had taken time to meet their closest neighbors and business associates, but Hal felt that socializing would take their time and focus away from their business. Now he was beginning to believe John was right on all counts—especially in taking a wife.
And perhaps that was simply Hal’s exhausted, aching body talking
.
Fatigued and tired of his own circular thoughts, Hal washed his hair and scrubbed his face and neck until he felt as polished as the gentleman he’d left behind in Buffalo. At the least, Nancy deserved better than his worst. She deserved to be treated as a kind and gentle lady, not as an inconvenient servant.
* * *
When Hal entered the parlor, Nancy’s heart skipped and left her breathless. Clean shaven with his dark, wet hair combed back off his forehead, he seemed lighter and more relaxed. His eyes held a new warmth in them she hadn’t yet seen.
She steered him straight back to the kitchen and bade him to sit at the table across from her, which he did. “I’ll get your supper now.”
“Thank you for the bath, Nancy. It was a rare treat after a long day of work.” He smoothed his hands over his laundered shirt and said, “I didn’t think we had an iron.”
Stomach aflutter, Nancy laced her fingers in front of her. “I purchased the iron along with a few other necessary items. I hope you don’t disapprove.”
He leaned back in his chair. “I can hardly disapprove of coming home to clean clothes, a hot bath, and a delicious supper.”
“You can’t know if supper is delicious. You haven’t tasted it yet.”
A light chuckle rumbled in his chest, the sound falling pleasantly on her ears. “My nose already knows what my mouth will soon tell me.”
She smiled because she felt her first real sense of hope. Maybe Hal would see that they could make the best of their situation and create a perfectly amicable marriage between them. “Let’s see if your nose and mouth agree then. I’ll get your supper now.” She started for the stove, but he caught her hand. Startled by his touch, she glanced down at his strong, tanned fingers gently holding hers.
Their eyes met and he released her. “Thank you,” he said; his voice quiet and sincere. “I am in awe of all you’ve done here and I deeply appreciate your hard work. I haven’t meant to appear ungrateful.”
The sincerity in his golden brown eyes melted her. As if she’d swallowed a pot of hot coffee, heat filled her belly and blossomed outward until her cheeks burned.
His lips quirked up on one side, and lo... how easily this man could charm her with just a smile.
Never had Nancy experienced such a reaction. Her father had only just pronounced her of an age to court and he’d arranged that courtship and marriage between herself and Stuart Newmaine, one of the young men who worked at her father’s bank. Mr. Newmaine had visited on many occasions when her father had him to the house to discuss business. The man was always polite and attentive when Nancy spoke, but his attentions and his affections had been for her sister, Elizabeth. Never had Nancy experienced such admiration as that which she saw in Hal Grayson’s eyes.
“What smells so good?” he asked, his voice warmer... friendlier.
“Mutton stew,” she said, her own voice trembling. “Another gift from Mary Tucker.” Turning to the stove, she said, “I hope you like it.”
“I do, although I feel so refreshed by the bath that I’d be happy with anything you feed me.”
Gracious, this couldn’t be the same man who chastised her for lying about her age just the evening before.
“You’ve been here four days and I feel as if I’m living in a new home,” he said. “I wish I had a man even half as industrious as you to help at the mill.”
She angled her back to him to hide her pleased smile as she filled their bowls. “I suspect I would be much less valuable at the mill. Are you looking to hire a man?” she asked, placing their plates on the table.
“I can’t afford one just now. John and I spent our savings to secure the house and sawmill. I’m making monthly payments to Tom Fiske to pay off the balance. John and I were struggling with startup costs and other expenses, but we were making progress. Things had just begun to look up when John…when he died, and I’ve fallen behind. I need to get ahead again before I can hire help.”
He dipped into the stew and filled his mouth. Two seconds into chewing he closed his eyes. “Delicious,” he said, his mouth pursed.
“Mary’s an excellent cook. She’s going to teach me how to make meals like this.” Nancy tasted the stew for herself. It was indeed delicious. In that moment, while she sat at the table sharing a meal with Hal Grayson, all her hard work and aching muscles felt worthwhile. A few days ago she couldn’t have imagined this possibility. Mr. Grayson had been cool and unwelcoming when he greeted her at the depot. But this evening, after a warm bath and a good meal, he was very pleasant company indeed. The thought made her smile.
“Something delights you?” he asked.
For an instant she considered pretending her thoughts were still on the food, but she decided to see if her husband had a sense of humor. “I find it interesting that a hot bath and good meal can alter your disposition to such a great degree.”
He grinned. “I suppose I am a bit more amicable this evening and that the bath and tasty meal are having a positive effect on my manners. Is that what you had hoped for?”
“That was my plan, yes.”
His laugh seemed to surprise both of them.
She smiled, liking the momentary connection she felt with him.
“May I be so bold as to ask why you and John weren’t married?” she asked. “Many gentlemen of your age are betrothed or married, many of them with children already.”
He sat without speaking for a moment and then placed his spoon in his bowl. For a moment Nancy thought she had gone too far. She wanted to know more about her husband and his family, but perhaps it was too soon for her to ask such personal questions, especially when they involved his brother.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked,” she said, quietly. “I hadn’t meant to be intrusive or insensitive.”
“You have a right to ask questions, Nancy.” Hal leaned his forearms on the table beside his plate. “I wanted to offer my bride more than a life of hardship and a heart full of grief. I wanted to give her a proper courtship and a wedding day we would both anticipate.”
Their eyes held and they studied each other. Her heart ached and it made speaking difficult. “Sometimes one doesn’t have a choice in the matter.”
He sat back in his chair, silent, inspecting her. “Since we’re being frank with each other, what compelled you to marry my brother, a complete stranger?”
Her mouth fell open. She hadn’t considered that he would ask his own bold questions—questions she didn’t want to answer. Still, he’d answered her probing question and therefore deserved an answer. “I preferred to marry a stranger who might possibly learn to love me one day rather than marry a man who is in love with my sister.”
Hal’s eyebrows raised and he released a low whistle. “Did your sister return this man’s affection?”
“Intensely,” Nancy said. “Could you have knowingly married the woman John Radford wanted to marry?” she asked.
He released a long sigh and said, “I reckon I just did.”
Chapter 9
For three days, excluding time out for Sunday service, Hal spent from dawn to dusk at the mill, falling further behind on his furniture order. At day’s end he dragged his weary self home, achingly grateful for the bath and warm supper Nancy had prepared for him. With Mary Tucker’s help, Nancy was learning to cook and provide tasty dishes. He thanked his wife, of course, and he was cordial to his new bride, but he tended to keep their conversation businesslike during their meals because he didn’t know what to do with Nancy.
She was supposed to have been his brother’s bride—now she was his bride.
The complications and intricacies of marriage exhausted Hal.
But he would be lying if he said he hadn’t realized he was compromising Nancy by bringing her to his home. He’d been captivated by her the minute her brown eyes looked into his. He was drawn to the possibility of discovering the mystery of such a beauty. While debating with her on the platform, he was entranced by the worry in her eyes and her soft, convincing voice
that revealed her desperation. For those few moments, Hal’s mind was preoccupied with something other than the searing pain of his brother’s death. That brief distraction was such a welcome relief from his constant heartache that Hal had forgotten himself and the time and why he was at the station.
Not until the train pulled out did he realize it was too late.
Nancy had unwittingly thrown him a lifeline and for better or worse, he’d grabbed hold with both hands.
“Are you too tired this evening for a bit of conversation?” Nancy asked, breaking into his thoughts.
He looked up from the book he’d been trying, and failing, to read. Nancy stood in the kitchen doorway with a damp dishtowel clutched in her hands.
“Something on your mind?” he asked.
“Mary Tucker stopped by today. She is going to give us some vegetable plants she doesn’t have room for. I’d like to plant them out back if it’s all right to use the plot behind the house.”
“Of course. However, I’m not sure how soon I’ll be able to till up the garden for you.”
“Perhaps I can manage it myself.”
“I’ll till if for you, Nancy. I just need a few days. I’m glad you’ve made a friend,” he said, meaning it. He wanted her to have friends. “The Tuckers are nice folks.”
“They are indeed.” Sincerity filled Nancy’s voice and her eyes with warmth. “Did William Tucker stop by your mill today? Mary told me he planned to do so.”
“He did.” Hal placed the book in his lap, far more interested in his bride than the almanac he’d been reading. “William invited us over after Sunday service. Did Mary mention the gathering?”
“She did. Shall we go?” Nancy asked, her eyes lit with interest. “Mary said the Fiskes will attend. They’re planning lunch on the porch and a croquette match. It sounds like a delightful way to spend the day.”
When I Fall in Love Page 8
