“But I understand why you have to do it. You’ve had such a rough start here. It pleases me to do at least a little something for you, even if that’s just brining you a lunch. I wish I could do more to help.” Her shoulders slumped and she sighed. “If I were a man, I could be of far more help here.”
“And you’d be far less desirable,” he said, placing his hand over hers. “You’re doing more than you likely realize. And even before you came, John and I would work all day at the mill and I’d work half the night in my woodshop. Until you came, my life was in shambles. You’ve brought great improvement to my days.”
“I’ve also foisted another financial burden upon your shoulders.” Nancy fidgeted with the edge of the quilt as she spoke.
He stilled her hand and gently caressed it with his rough thumb. “The only thing you’ve added to my life is joy. You’ve forced me to slow down and enjoy a few stolen moments in the midst of unending work. You’ve opened my eyes to the potential for happiness in Fredonia and given me hope that I can become a man worthy of your respect and perhaps someday your love.”
Her lips parted as if her words were trapped in her mouth. He’d clearly made her uncomfortable, but he wanted to express his appreciation for everything she’d done to make his life better. And he’d wanted to present the idea of love, that perhaps they might develop that level of feeling for one another. But he hadn’t wanted to make her uncomfortable or to push her.
“You should eat,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper.
“I should,” he said, “but I’d rather do this.” He leaned toward her and pressed a tender kiss to her mouth. “Thank you for being a strong, stubborn, and remarkable woman.”
Nancy released a breathless laugh and pulled back to look at him. “Was that meant to be a backhanded compliment?”
“No. Simply a statement of fact,” he said, and promptly bit into a piece of baked chicken breast. It was still cool from being stored in the well overnight, which reminded him that he needed to build a springhouse for Nancy, but like so many other things it would have to wait.
Her eyes sparkled with humor as she helped herself to a piece chicken. They spent the balance of their lunch laughing and joking. As Hal finished eating, he leaned back on the blanket, full from a good meal and enchanted with Nancy’s company. “Are you going to tell me now what sweet you’ve got tucked in that basket?”
Nancy rooted in the basket and pulled out two small bowls. “I’ve brought custard. I’d thought something cool might be a treat today, but I’m afraid it’s turning to soup in this heat.”
“Well, at least it won’t be as thick as that stew you tried to make with flour and bacon grease. That wouldn’t have melted in a hot oven”
Nancy burst out laughing. “You are full of praise today, Mr. Grayson.”
“Only because I’m scared to try the custard.”
She laughed again and thrust a bowl into his hands. “I promise you, it’s edible.”
He took a bite and groaned.
“You’re jesting, right?” Her smile fell away. “Is it not good?”
The worry in her eyes melted him and he was sorry to have teased her. He reached out, cupped her beautiful face in his palm, and said, “It’s delicious, Nancy. I can’t thank you enough for being so thoughtful and for bringing sweets and laughter to my day.”
With that, he moved in and stole a kiss.
To his surprise, she welcomed the spontaneous moment.
Then a shock of cold water hit his scalp and streamed down his neck. He gasped and reared back, unable to believe his sweet little wife had just poured water over his head.
Her laughter rang across the yard.
Hal stared in amazement. “You just doused my head!”
“I did indeed.” Eyes sparkling, shoulders shaking with laughter, she set aside the half full jar of water. “Let that be a lesson not to poke fun at my cooking abilities.”
He couldn’t hold back the laughter that had been building in his chest. Each moment with his wife was filled with surprise. She shocked him. She delighted him. She enchanted him.
Living with her expanded his life in a way he’d never anticipated or could have even dreamed.
They spent the last few minutes of his lunch break in playful repartee. Hal ate the custard and savored every delicious bite. “This is really good, Nancy.” And it was. But, he remembered how barren their pantry had looked last night and the worry he felt over how he would find the funds to stock it before next week. Suspicious, he asked, “What’s in this? What ingredients are needed to make custard?” he asked casually.
“Eggs, cream, sugar and flour. Why would you ask? Do you not like the splash of vanilla I added?”
“The custard is delicious. I’m just wondering if we had the staples in the pantry or if you made another trip to town with your jewelry.”
The smile dropped off her face and she glanced down at her clasped her hands.
Hal’s gut clenched and he knew the answer. Still, he’d hoped Nancy would be honest with him. He thought they were arriving at a more intimate place in their relationship. “I don’t recall having sugar in the pantry or I’d have added a lump to my coffee. Did you borrow some from Mary?”
“No,” she said, looking at him with a spark of defiance in her eyes. “I did not borrow the sugar. I went to town, sold a necklace I seldom wear, and then I bought some provisions.”
Heat engulfed Hal’s head and stalked away from the blanket, not wanting to say something he’d regret. But unable to hold his tongue, he turned back, rubbing his hand over his mouth and breathing deeply as he sought words that wouldn’t harm their marriage. He stared down at his wife sitting on the blanket. Her eyes met his and displayed a fire he was growing accustomed to. “I thought I’d made myself clear, Nancy, but apparently not. So let me repeat one final time that I’ll not have you selling your jewelry to stock our pantry. That’s my job and I’ll find the means to take care of it.”
“I understood you the first time we discussed this, Hal.” She stood then and faced him, her cheeks flushed bright pink. “You just admitted yourself that taking time for lunch has made you more productive at the mill. Without the extra funds from my jewelry, we would be getting one meal a day and I prefer to eat more often than that. You can’t work effectively if you don’t eat, so I’m making sure we both get those meals. Like you, I’m just doing my part to take care of us. I’m truly sorry if I’ve hurt your pride, Hal. You must know that’s not my intention, and I’m extremely discreet in my dealings with the watchmaker. But if this is something I can do to make our lives a little less difficult then that’s what I’m going to do.”
Embarrassment and a deep sense of shame welled up in Hal. The situation shredded his pride, but this wasn’t just about him. He and John Radford might have been willing to live hand-to-mouth with nary enough to eat, but Nancy wasn’t used to a life of scarcity, nor should she be subjected to such if there was a means — any means — to avoid it. And so he heaved a hard sigh and shoved his hands in his trouser pockets, knowing he had to swallow his pride for her sake. “It hadn’t dawned on me that I was causing more hardship for you. I hadn’t meant to be inconsiderate.”
“Oh, Hal, you are one of the most considerate men I know. Please don’t make more of this little transaction than it is. If I had sold my necklace to purchase a new dress, you wouldn’t have said a word.”
“Yes, Nancy, I would have said the same thing. I will purchase your dresses. Are you in need of one?”
She parked her hands on her hips and groaned. “No, and you are intentionally missing my point. I didn’t care about the necklace. I care about being hungry and putting a good meal on the table for my husband, as well as for myself.” With that she returned to the blanket and packed up the remnants of their lunch. She snatched the blanket off the ground and shook off the crumbs and the dirt before throwing it over her arm. She walked back to Hal, pressed her palm to his heart and said, “You’re a good, dependab
le, and kind man, Hal, and I’m proud to be your wife. Stop obsessing over this and get back to work. Dinner will be on the table when you get home this evening.”
He watched her stride across the mill yard, the back of her skirt switching to and fro like an agitated cat’s tail. Without a single glance back, she headed down the street. And he went back to work with a head full of uncomfortable thoughts.
Nancy strode home in a state of agitation. She’d known how Hal would react to her selling another piece of jewelry, but she’d done it anyway because it was necessary, because it was a logical thing to do. She’d scrimped and carefully spent the funds from her broach and stretched their provisions as long as she could. Hal may be upset with her, but he had no idea how difficult it was to make a meal without proper staples, especially for one who was learning how to cook. She didn’t know all the shortcuts that Mary and Martha knew. She’d only just learned that she could use starch instead of flour to thicken custard. She needed to follow Mary and Martha’s recipes exactly or risk ruining a meal, and she couldn’t do that if she didn’t have those staples in her pantry. And she couldn’t afford to make mistakes and waste a single bite of their meager provisions. So she’d sold her necklace. So what. This marriage wasn’t just about Hal Grayson, and the sooner he learned that the better. Someday they would have children and she would not let her husband’s pride keep her from taking proper care of their babies.
It wasn’t that she didn’t understand Hal’s complaint. She did and it hurt her to think his pride was wounded because he couldn’t provide for her in the manner he desired. Simply knowing he wanted more for them was enough for Nancy. She’d come from wealth and never once worried there wouldn’t be a meal on the table. But having a full belly wasn’t any more desirable than knowing her husband cared about her. She didn’t need wealth. She needed to have food for their table and to make a loving home for her husband, and someday for their children.
What good was a trunk full of jewelry and fancy dresses if her stomach was burning with hunger? What good was she to her husband if she was simply a financial burden?
To see Hal work nearly every waking moment day after day and still struggle so desperately broke her heart. Hal hadn’t asked for or wanted a wife. But he’d made the best of their situation, and she felt she had to do something to contribute. But what else could she offer other than selling her few items of value to put food on their table?
Her agitation dissipated as she walked into the yard. The small house and expansive yard was finally beginning to feel like home to her. She hoped that at least her contribution in making the house clean and cozy made it more inviting to Hal.
She stopped to remove her boots just inside the door so she didn’t track sawdust across her clean floors. She slipped her feet into her house slippers and headed into the kitchen where Captain was sleeping on a chair. He opened one eye, saw it was her, and promptly returned to his slumber.
He was so cute she wanted to scoop him up and nuzzle his furry little head, but she resisted and went to the back door. Staring outside, she placed her hands on her hips and surveyed her garden and the field of grass and wildflowers beyond. She’d accomplished a lot since coming to Fredonia, and she was proud of that, but she still felt there was more she could do. Selling her jewelry had brought in desperately needed funds, but it had wounded Hal’s pride in the process. She needed to come up with a way to contribute to their family in a manner that would help rather than hurt her husband. But what?
Chapter Nineteen
On Friday evening, Hal walked home from the mill feeling grateful that he’d had a productive week. However, even four days after the discussion he’d had with Nancy about selling her jewelry, he was still troubled about it. It had been a painful hit to his pride for certain, but he’d bitten his tongue because he couldn’t bear the thought of Nancy going hungry. And how could he fault her for trying to help?
Because of her contribution she’d served tasty meals all week, and yet she hadn’t mentioned the incident once.
And so Hal had done the same, although he hoped to one day save enough funds to replace her jewelry. The best he could do for now was to keep the pantry stocked and prevent her from selling more of her baubles.
His mother had sold pieces of her jewelry on a couple of occasions that Hal could remember. That was how his father and mother had gotten through during tough times, and they’d certainly had plenty of them. But even during their most recent disaster with losing one of their sawmills, Hal couldn’t recall either of his parents raising their voices. During rough patches they would sit at the kitchen table and take stock of all they had. If business was slow at the mill, Hal and his brothers would hunt with their father and sell or trade pelts and meat. They would gather up any unnecessary possessions, extra furniture, his father’s tools, his mother’s jewelry, and sell them. They all contributed. They didn’t blame one another. And when times prospered they would modestly improve the food for their table and the comfort of their home.
That’s what Nancy had been trying to get through to Hal. This situation wasn’t just about him. It involved both of them and Nancy was simply doing what she could to help and contribute.
And he’d condemned her for it.
Hal felt a fool as he crossed his yard. Lantern light glowed from the windows and smoke wafted from the chimney telling him Nancy had supper cooking. She’d been starting her own fires in the stove for some time now, a skill she was immensely proud of. And though she’d had a couple of unfortunate meal disasters in the kitchen, on the whole the dishes she provided were quite tasty. She’d come here unskilled in every facet of housekeeping and expecting to have a staff to manage. And instead she’d taken his partially furnished dirty home with an empty pantry and turned it into a home filled with warmth and light and laughter. This was their home – and Nancy had made it that way.
Like a flower that blooms where it’s planted, Nancy’s petals were unfurling a bit more each day. She had completely and irrevocably transformed his house into a home. She’d turned a rocky swatch of soil into a garden of vegetables that was beginning to produce an admirable yield. She’d adopted animals of all sorts – from Captain, the barn cat who had taken up permanent residence in their house, to a mother doe and two fawns that foraged the back field and woods.
She helped him tend his books and organize his life. She was building good relationships with their neighbors and helping them both become better members of their community. She had a wonderful sense of humor and constantly surprised him with her candor and tomfoolery. Despite her tender heart and nurturing nature she possessed an inner strength that Hal admired. She wasn’t afraid to challenge him when it was warranted and refused to let him make decisions based on his frustration and exhaustion. Despite their rough start and her own heartache, she was creating a home in Fredonia, making friends, and thoroughly charming him.
For all his protestations of not wanting to marry, Hal found himself unable to imagine life without Nancy — and that thought consumed him as he entered the house.
Life without her would be... colorless.
Cold.
Empty.
As that realization sank in, he shucked his boots. The house was quiet. Too quiet.
He strolled to the kitchen, but it was empty as he’d suspected. He smelled something delicious cooking on the stove. Lifting the lid on a deep pot, he was greeted with the mouthwatering scent of ham and bean soup. With supper on the stove, he knew Nancy couldn’t be far. After a quick search of the rest of the house, he realized she must be outside in the garden. So, he stuffed his aching feet back in his boots and slogged out back.
She wasn’t in the garden either.
Perplexed, he looked around, wondering if perhaps she was out in the field talking to her little family of deer, Mama Daisy, and babies Raindrop and Honeydew, as she’d named them. The idea of naming deer still made Hal laugh. He’d never heard of such a thing.
After a moment of scanning the
empty field, he looked across the yard and saw the barn door open. A minute later he entered his woodshop and found Nancy seated on an overturned milk churn in front of his workbench. A dark ring of soil ran around the hem of her day dress telling him she’d been working in the garden at some point. Her flowing green skirt was covered with wood shavings and sawdust. So were her hands and arms. Nancy’s chignon, usually so tidy, was hanging loose, and several stray hairs fell across her face and into her eyes.
Taking it all in with a mixture of surprise and horror, Hal watched as she swiped her arm over her forehead, sweeping hair out of her eyes and depositing a layer of sawdust along her brow. Her forehead was furrowed and her dark brows framed determined eyes as she studied the wood piece before her.
“What you doing?” Hal asked.
Nancy gasped and clutched the wooden piece to her chest as she spun to face him. “Gracious, Hal! You startled me.”
“I’m sorry. What are you doing out here?”
“I’m sanding these panels for you.”
Hal swiped his hand over his mouth to hide his grimace. “I planned to get to those tonight or tomorrow. Sanding affects the quality of the end product, Nancy. If you don’t get it just right, the entire piece is ruined. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I’d just as soon you not help me out here. I can’t afford to replace any of those pieces.”
A look of dread crossed her face. “I thought I’d be helping, but now I’m terrified I’ve ruined your work.” She stood up and handed the flat panel to him. “Please tell me I haven’t damaged this panel. I’ve been out here so many nights watching what you’ve been doing that I thought I could manage this for you.”
Her level of concern made him feel bad that he’d said anything. He should have waited for her to go inside to put supper on the table and he could have looked them over without distressing her. But here they were, her eyes filled with worry as she handed the cabinet panel to him.
Always and Forever Page 17
