Melody

by Caroline Clemmons

  Inside the house, Nick set down packages in the master bedroom. “I don’t know where you cut out fabric. My mother uses the kitchen table.”

  She braced herself and took a deep breath. “Thank you for all this, Nick. You’re especially generous since you don’t know if you’ll want me around after Christmas.”

  He stuffed his hands in his pants pockets. “Look, I apologized for being so rude. Let’s function as if you’ll be here forever. Living for six weeks on tenterhooks would be too hard on both of us.”

  A relieved sigh escaped. “I agree. We should make the best of our situation.”

  He opened the wardrobe. “I suppose you’ll want to go to church tomorrow?”

  “Yes, I look forward to attending church regularly. In addition I hope to see my friends and meet others of yours.”

  “I cleared half the drawers in the chest. I’d take my clothes to the other room but there’s no wardrobe there. We’ll have to share this one.”

  He gazed inside at the clothes. “I’d better get a second one.”

  “I keep some of my things in a trunk.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll see about another wardrobe tomorrow. One of the men at church builds furniture.”

  “Now that I have this lovely cape, I hope tomorrow’s weather is cold. I saw your heavy overcoat hanging on the coat rack. I’m hoping I’m hardy enough for Montana’s winters. At this point, I’m looking forward to snow and cool weather.”

  “Yeah? We’ll see how you feel by Christmas.” He left the room.

  Melody untied the string on her parcels and removed the wrapping paper. She folded the paper to save before she separated her new things. String might come in handy as well.

  She put the unmentionables inside the drawers Nick indicated in the chest. In one trunk, she stored her fabrics.

  In spite of the fact she’d like to start sewing immediately, she decided she should investigate the kitchen. Supper time would be here soon. Eating out was nice but not practical very often.

  Nick said he’d inherited money from his grandparents. She hoped he received a sizable amount because she’d spent a fortune this afternoon. He’d built on to the clinic as well.

  And, he must pay Hank a salary. Then, Nick said he’d purchased a buggy and a horse. Hmm, they must be at the livery stable. He intended to buy another wardrobe. She hoped he wasn’t spending himself into bankruptcy. If he was, at least she’d go there well-dressed.

  Chapter Eight

  Attending church was like a reunion and left Melody enveloped in a rosy glow. Seeing her friends was a happy experience. For once she didn’t face glares or whispers when she was in public. She was welcomed by everyone to whom she spoke. Nick’s friend Glenn sat beside her on one side and Nick on the other.

  On the walk home, Nick ambled as if they had all day. “What did you think of the preacher’s sermon?”

  She held her husband’s arm. “I’m happy he offered positive instruction that provided insight into living a good life.”

  “Your friends were glad to see you. Must be nice to come to a new place and have so many familiar faces greet you.”

  “With four more arriving soon very soon it will seem as if all my friends have come to Montana. I haven’t been this happy in many years.” If only her husband wanted her, she’d believe her life was perfect.

  “I wasn’t eavesdropping but couldn’t help hearing the conversation about you being accused of murder. What’s that about?”

  “For probably eight or nine years my grandmother had more and more memory loss. The doctor said it was hardening of the arteries, so I guess you’re familiar with the problem.”

  He nodded but regarded her expectantly.

  “I told you that seeing the house burn sent Nana Fraser into madness. The doctor wanted me to commit her to an asylum, but I simply couldn’t. She wasn’t dangerous, just muddled and mistaken about facts. As she grew weaker, she decided it was because I was poisoning her. Her confused mind had forgotten most of the belongings she accused me of coveting had burned. When anyone came near, she announced I was poisoning her so I could have her belongings and asked for help.”

  “Surely visitors understood she wasn’t in her right mind.”

  “Of course. But our long-time family friend, Miss Hattie, said some were using this excuse to retaliate against my family for things my grandfather and father had done. Supposedly, the sheriff had received complaints and was coming to investigate. I left town before he did.”

  Nick frowned. “Sounds frightening. Why did people dislike your grandfather and father?”

  “They were abolitionists and the people who worked on our plantation were freedmen. Grandpa’s shipping company was quite successful and he made enough to support the plantation. He bought slaves and then freed them and offered them a job. He especially tried to get families so they wouldn’t be separated.”

  “Expensive but admirable. I heard Rutherford B. Hayes did that when he was in law practice long before he became President.”

  Pensive, he rubbed his jaw. “I think I understand why Sarah wanted you to answer my letter. She could have been honest and chosen any man who wanted a wife.”

  “Sarah is honest so don’t you dare accuse her of anything else. If she matched me with you then she genuinely believed we would fit.” And they would if only he would consider facts.

  “I wasn’t speaking against your friend. I didn’t mean to say that last out loud.”

  “May as well say it as think it. Perhaps when our other four friends arrive you can swap me for one of them.”

  His pace stopped and his face hardened. “Melody, don’t be absurd. In the first place, I would never do that to you. In the second, that would be political suicide. I’d have to leave town. We’ll continue as we discussed until Christmas.”

  “I could ask for the annulment and say I found you highhanded, opinionated, and inflexible.”

  He resumed walking and glanced her way. “Do you?”

  She snapped, “Of course I do, but I don’t consider that grounds for an annulment. You’re a man so it stands to reason you’d be that way.”

  His bark of laughter caught her off guard. “I suppose I might seem that way to you but I disagree. What I have are plans for my future. I’d set out guidelines for what I need to prepare in order to accomplish those.”

  She sent him a measuring stare. “Are you insisting that no one has accused you of those characteristics before me?”

  He ran his finger around his collar. “I confess I might have heard those charges in the past. I dispute them. A man has to have a strategy for his future in order to accomplish anything. I prepared a list of goals and what reaching them required.”

  “And have you taken every possible condition into consideration?”

  “I believe so. What do you think I missed?”

  “For instance, this professional nurse might resent working with you all day and then coming home to make dinner, do laundry, and clean house while you sit and read the paper. Or, eventually, what do you plan for when this nurse becomes pregnant and can’t work all day any longer? When there’s a new baby in the house that requires nursing and changing frequently how will you handle it?” They stepped up onto the front porch.

  He stopped and gaped at her, his face a blank. “I… uh, I had planned to hire a cleaning lady who also functioned as nanny in that event.” After turning, he opened the door for her.

  The aroma of their dinner she’d left cooking in the oven drifted to her.

  She pushed through, angry with Nick for his attitude. “I don’t believe you, Nicholas Walker. I don’t think it occurred to you that you can’t control every aspect of yours or anyone else’s life.”

  Drat the man anyway. She’d worn her old cloak because the weather wasn’t bitter yet. After hanging it on the hall tree she hurried to the kitchen and donned her apron. She’d show him she was an efficient and accomplished woman.

  Nick hung his jacket on the back of
his chair as he watched his wife’s skirts swish with her angry movements. She left no doubt she was annoyed, although he didn’t understand exactly why. He supposed it was that he’d rejected her as a nurse.

  Dadblameit, he refused to apologize for mapping his future. Was she used to people who drifted through life? Or who went off half-cocked like those who’d seceded from the Union?

  Either way, he was a man who planned, who prepared, who thought. All right, so he hadn’t exactly figured what he’d do when his wife became pregnant. He reckoned they would wait a few years to start a family. Realistically, he knew that plan didn’t always work.

  He stomped to the master bedroom and changed from his best suit to more casual clothes. He put his suit in the wardrobe and remembered he was supposed to talk to Frank Sutton about building him another. Instead, he’d been fascinated by the animated pleasure radiating from his wife’s face.

  For certain she’d never looked at him like that. He considered her a beautiful woman but never so much as today at church surrounded by her friends. Aw, why bother thinking about that? He’d go see Frank later this afternoon.

  She called from the kitchen, “Dinner is ready.”

  The smell of roast beef and vegetables drifting through the house fueled his hunger. He took his place at the table. Without meeting her gaze, he bowed his head and gave a brief blessing.

  He served himself a portion of the roast beef before passing it to her. “Smells good.”

  “You had this roast in the ice box. I suspect it won’t be long until you no longer need ice delivered, but I suppose the service continues all year if someone in town provides it.”

  “Yes. George Savage, the man who runs the bathhouse, is a jack-of-all-trades. If he can’t do a job, he knows someone who can. He’s been a lot of help to me.”

  “Everyone needs to have a man like that in his acquaintance.”

  “That’s true. He and Frank Sutton managed the addition to the clinic with help from a few others. They took care of it, though, and got the wood from Otto Schulz’s lumber mill. That reminds me that I need to speak to Frank about building a new wardrobe. Would you like to accompany me to his home this afternoon?”

  She appeared so grateful he felt like a rat. Did she think he was a monster or something? He supposed she did.

  “Thank you, I’d like that very much.”

  He saw a pie on the counter and wondered when she’d baked it. “If you’d like, we can save the pie for a suppertime snack.”

  She smiled at him but her eyes held question.

  When they’d eaten, he helped her clear the table and poured hot water from the kettle into the dishpan. “I’ll help. Do you want to wash or dry?”

  “I’ll dry as soon as I’ve put away all the food. There’s enough left for nice sandwiches for tomorrow’s lunch.”

  They finished the chore quickly and she removed her apron. “Can we walk there?”

  He slipped on a jacket. “Yes, it’s near the cemetery.”

  “I’ll just freshen a bit and be right back.”

  He figured she needed the chamber pot. He waited patiently and she soon returned.

  The sun shone to chase the chill from the air. They walked near the creek, sunlight adding sparkles to the water.

  She chuckled. “Seems funny to walk across town so easily. I was two miles from Caroline and walked there. Church was almost three miles.”

  “I’m getting spoiled with the short distances. I find I enjoy being spoiled.”

  Her laughter came delicate as a tinkling bell. “Doesn’t everyone?”

  “Here we are.” He rapped on the door.

  Frank answered. “Hey, Nick, come in.”

  “I forgot to ask this morning if you could build us another armoire. We’ve run out of room.”

  Angela came into the parlor. “Hasn’t my absent-minded husband asked you to sit?”

  Frank put his arm around her. “Mrs. Walker, this is my wife, Angela. I don’t think you had a chance to meet at church.”

  Melody extended her hand. “Please call me Melody. I’m pleased to meet you. We came to ask about furniture.”

  Frank gestured through the kitchen. “Come out to the workshop and I’ll show you what I have made up. If nothing suits you, tell me what you want and I’ll build it.”

  The four of them went through the kitchen and out to the workshop via a covered walkway. Inside, a variety of furniture pieces stood against one wall and followed it around one side of the room. Against another wall was a workbench with a variety of tools and stains stored above it. On the third wall, shelves held different types of wood.

  “See anything you like?”

  Melody ran her hand over a large wardrobe. “This is beautiful, as fine as any I’ve ever seen. It would blend with the furnishings we have now.”

  She stepped to another. “This is also gorgeous but I see it matches a complete set of bedroom furniture. You’re a gifted craftsman, Frank.” She turned to Nick with raised eyebrows.

  “If neither of them is promised, we’ll take both. I’d also like the bedroom furniture that matches the second wardrobe. No point having a spare bedroom if no one can stay there. Um, I hope my folks will come for a visit now that I’ve married.”

  Angela’s face beamed with pleasure. “Frank’s a genius when it comes to making furniture and building things.”

  Frank smiled as if he was especially happy. “I’ll get these delivered tomorrow. I’ll check in at the clinic when we arrive. Probably be late in the day.”

  “I guess the Mercantile can order a mattress, can’t they?”

  Angela looked at her husband. When he nodded, she said, “I make mattresses. I use either corn husks, cotton, or down. The cotton is most practical, the down the softest, and corn husks the cheapest.”

  He looked at his wife. “Cotton all right?”

  “Yes. I believe that’s what the one we have is. What about pillows?”

  Angela clasped her hands in front of her. “I have a new cotton mattress stored in the house along with pillows for it. I’m always afraid mice might take one as an invitation out here.”

  Nick rubbed his hands together. “Wonderful. If you’ll total all this, I’ll get the money from the bank and have it for you when you make the delivery tomorrow.”

  They visited for a while before taking their leave. On the way home, Melody was a chatterbox. He was glad she was over her snit.

  “I can’t imagine corn husks would be used now that the war is over. Ugh, Mama said they tend to get vermin. I have linens in a trunk we can use.”

  “Good because I only have the set that’s on the bed.”

  “Maybe a quilt will be all right for the coverlet. I’ll need to make something warm for winter.”

  “The Mercantile has wool blankets. Several layers are necessary according to what I’ve been told, even with a fireplace in the room.”

  “Do you really think your parents will visit?”

  “I’ve invited them. I wrote them I was getting wed so that might increase the likelihood they’ll come.” He rubbed his jaw. “Probably they’ll wait until summer, though. I’d already told them about the hard winters here.”

  “I’m so lucky we live so close to Sarah and Becca and Quinn. They’re close enough I can visit even in bad weather.”

  “Do you remember the rope strung from the house to the clinic?”

  “Yes, the clothes line.”

  “It’s not a clothes line. That’s there so I can get from the house to the clinic and back without getting lost in the snow. Listen, Melody, this is important. People have died only steps from their door because they couldn’t see through the snow and became disoriented. You positively cannot go out in a snowstorm unless you have a line to hold.”

  “Oh, my word. I had no idea snow would be that thick and dangerous.”

  He sent her a humorous glance. “Ready to go back to the South?”

  “No, I like Montana. I’ll just have to be prepared for t
he weather. What happens if you’re out visiting a patient and that kind of storm catches you on the way home?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve wondered the same thing. Guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

  Chapter Nine

  Melody couldn’t visualize a storm like Nick had described. How did people live in this climate? How did animals survive? All movement must cease in that kind of weather.

  She wondered about the Indians who lived in the area. How could they continue to exist with only hide shelters? Obviously they could and did.

  When they arrived home, she started to make coffee.

  He held up his hand. “If it’s all right, I’ll have milk.”

  “Of course. Oh, someone’s at the door.”

  Nick answered the door and she heard him invite the caller inside. He returned to the kitchen with Glenn accompanying him.

  She smiled at her husband’s friend. “You’re just in time for some of Mrs. Lawrence’s pie.”

  She took small plates from the hutch and sliced the pie.

  Nick looked at the pieces she’d given him and Glenn and the one she’d cut for herself. “I see Glenn and I rate a much larger slice.”

  She set a glass of milk by each man’s plate. “Men usually eat more than women.”

  She poured a glass for herself and returned the milk to the ice box. “Where do you get your milk?”

  “Our milk? Widow Lawrence next door keeps a couple of cows.”

  She smiled at his correction. “That’s convenient. I like milk with evening meals.”

  “Did you say our neighbor made the pie?”

  The dough was too thick and heavy but she supposed he was being cautious before criticizing the pastry.

  “Mrs. Lawrence brought it over early this morning to welcome us. Wasn’t that sweet?

  Glenn said, “She seems a nice person. Not the best cook in the world, but good-hearted. She cleans for people, provides meals for prisoners at the jail, and she sells milk and eggs.”

  Melody looked at her husband. “I saw a chicken coop but it appeared to be behind this house.”