“Mr. Jensen, could you cut me three yards from each of these?” she asked, handing him the material bolts.
“You go ahead and get their supplies together, Frank. I’ll be happy to cut the cloth for Laura,” Sarah volunteered. She took the material and moved to the cutting table. “Did you get all the gossip, Laura, honey?”
“More than I could hope for. My ears are still ringing.” She leaned closer and whispered, “And how did you and Mr. Jensen get along?”
“That man is interested, but for a businessman I’ve never met one so shy. He’s been alone now for six years, since his youngest was born. It’s gonna take me some time to convince him that combining our two families would be the smartest thing for both of us.” Sarah worked efficiently as she talked. “Speakin’ of men, how are you and that mule-headed husband doing? And where did you leave little Rachel this morning?”
“Oh Sarah, you should see Rachel. She’s actually looking at people now instead of staring off. I still haven’t coaxed any words out of her though. In fact, you’ll be able to see the changes in her yourself. She’s at your house with Evie and Belle.”
“My girls’ll take good care of her.” Sarah nodded as she folded up Laura’s material. “And Nathan?”
“We’re getting used to each other.” Heat filled Laura’s cheeks at the memories of how kind he’d been to her this morning.
“That should make two pretty dresses,” Sarah said loud enough for anyone listening to hear as they moved to the main counter with the cash register. She patted Laura on the arm. “I’m gonna head back to the house to check on the children. And I’ll be out this week to start your lessons.”
Laura watched her friend leave, then turned to add her material to the supplies Mr. Jensen gathered from her list. Glass jars containing peppermint sticks stood on the counter. On a whim, she reached in and drew out half a dozen. She added them to the items she’d selected.
“Mr. Jensen, could you total the dry goods and candy separate from the supplies Nathan asked for? I’ll pay for those myself.” Since it was her idea to make new clothes for Rachel and curtains for the house, she intended to use some of her writing proceeds to pay for them.
Mr. Jensen looked about the store then lowered his voice with a note of concern. “Are you sure Nathan is going to want you to do that? He said to add it on to his bill.”
Laura fought her growing anger. Mr. Jensen seemed to think Nathan would be upset if she paid for anything herself. She’d run into people back East who didn’t think a woman should ever handle money. Somehow she’d thought people living in the West were a little more open-minded. Besides, she didn’t see any reason to put an extra burden on Nathan and the farm’s finances while she lived here, especially if she had money available to use.
“I know what my husband said, Mr. Jensen, but I want to pay for these things myself.”
“Pay for what?” came a very deep, very angry voice from behind her.
Chapter Seven
“Nathan!” Laura exclaimed as she turned around, but the smile died on her lips when she saw the look on his face. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Obviously. What is it you want to pay for?” He repeated his question, grinding out the words between compressed lips.
Any kindness he’d shown her this morning had vanished. The angry, arrogant man she’d met that first day had returned full force.
She didn’t know what burr he’d gotten in his pants, but she hadn’t done anything to warrant such animosity from him. “Since I suggested the idea, I thought I’d buy the dress materials myself.”
“Just put it all on one bill, Frank.” Nathan addressed the storekeeper without another word to her, ignoring her comments completely.
“But, Nathan,” Laura started to protest.
He hushed her words with a glare, paid his bill then grabbed her none too gently by the arm. Ushering her from the building, he nearly dragged her to their wagon.
She attempted to dig in her heels. “Nathan, what are you doing?”
“Get in the wagon and don’t make a scene,” he ordered, half shoving her onto the seat.
He stomped back into the mercantile.
Don’t make a scene? She wasn’t the one making the scene.
A few minutes later, he reappeared with the box of supplies, which he loaded on to the wagon without another word. He climbed up beside her and started the team toward Sarah’s cabin, where he stopped only long enough to pick up Rachel and thank the girls for watching her.
Laura sat with her back ramrod straight, refusing to speak too. Not knowing what she’d done wrong, her anger increased with every yard they put between them and the town. By the time they arrived back home, she’d simmered over into a boiling rage.
Instead of waiting for him to help her off the wagon, she nearly leapt off the seat. She marched into the house and up the stairs, slamming the bedroom door behind her. She paced back and forth in the room, trying to work off her anger before confronting her husband.
By the time he’d put Rachel down for a nap and stalked into her room, she was ready for a fight.
“Nathan—”
“Laura,” he interrupted her, “where did you get the money you were going to use to buy the dress material?”
“What?” Did he think she’d stolen the money?
“I asked where you got the money you were planning on using.” He nearly bit the words out at her.
“Nathan, I earned it.”
“At the library?” Sarcasm dripped off his words.
“No. Actually I didn’t get paid much for that job.” Laura hesitated telling him more. She wasn’t sure she wanted him to know about her life as a writer.
“Then how did you earn it?”
She sighed, knowing the truth was the only thing that would make him see reason. “If you must know, I wrote several dime novels and earned the money through them.”
“You what?” He lifted an eyebrow as if he hadn’t heard her correctly.
“I said, I wrote some novels that were published. That’s how I earned the money. I’ve used the proceeds in the past to buy clothing for other children, so I thought I might do the same for Rachel’s clothes. You would have more money left for the spring planting if I did.”
Her words had little effect on him. He still seethed with wounded male pride.
“Let’s get one thing perfectly clear. I had a wife who mysteriously came up with her own money to spend. I discovered later exactly how she did so. By selling herself to other men. I won’t be made to look the fool again in front of my neighbors. Do you understand me?” He grabbed Laura by her arms and pulled her close enough she could see the creases around his narrowed eyes and lips.
Instead of intimidating her, it had the opposite effect. How dare he compare her to his first wife? “Are you accusing me of being a loose woman? I don’t believe you! How can you stand there and accuse me of something so vile?”
“Let’s just say I find it hard to believe you’re actually a writer. I don’t recall seeing your name, or any other woman’s name on any dime novels. Do you have any proof of this illustrious career of yours?”
Now he’d wounded her pride and attacked her skills as a writer. Some things she just wouldn’t tolerate. She struggled to free herself but he held her firm. “If you’d let go of me, I’d be happy to show you some of my work.”
He released her arms, allowing her to move to the boxes in the corner. She pulled out several large, bound piles of papers. Each one had a smaller printed book with it. She handed them to her husband.
“There’s your proof, sir.” She stood back with her arms folded across her middle and waited for his apology. It would be worth watching him grovel.
He studied them carefully, reading the first page of each book and matching manuscript. After several minutes he laid them on the bed, running his hand through his hair.
Good. Here comes the apology.
“Why do the manuscripts have your name on them
, while the books are published under a man’s name? Is he your lover back in Washington?”
“What?” The man was completely insane! He’d convinced himself she was exactly like his first wife. Anything she said to defend herself was suspect in his eyes.
“You don’t tell me anything about your past. If you have a lover and he’s the secret you’ve been keeping from me, I want to know it right now. Is that why you’re so eager to leave after the marriage contract is finished?” He paused, a new suspicion narrowing his eyes as he looked her over from head to toe. “Are you having your lover’s child? Is that the reason you came out West?”
Laura laughed at his accusation. The man was absurd. “For your information, I’ve never…been…never been with any man.” She gave him the same head-to-toe exam. “Nor do I plan to in the near future. There is no lover back East. The man’s name on my books is my pseudonym. That means false name. You see most people believe Western tales written by a man but not a woman. That’s why there are two different names on the books and manuscripts.”
Anger still registered on his face, but at least he stood there considering her words instead of yelling at her. Then he walked to the window and stared out at the mountains behind the house. When he faced her again his eyes had turned to ice. “Let’s come to an understanding. While you are living as my wife, you will not purchase anything with your money.”
“Why? It’s perfectly respectable money.”
“Laura, I will have you obey me in this one thing.” His voice resonated with quiet rage.
“I think you’re being rather foolish.”
“Once before I was the town laughingstock. I won’t have it said I had to marry you for your money, nor do I want gossips saying I can’t take care of my family. When you leave, I’ll have enough to explain. Do you understand?”
“I understand, Nathan. I just don’t agree.”
“I don’t care,” he ground out the words, striding past her to the door. “If you’re going to live here as my wife, you’ll do as I say in this matter.” With that last decree, he stormed down the stair and out the back door.
Laura stood at the window watching him carry in the supplies then drive the wagon to the barn. Tears of anger slowly coursed down her cheeks.
How could he think so low of me? Obviously he thinks the worst of all women.
Today’s revelations solved one dilemma. She could never confide in him about her real reason for becoming his wife. If she told him the truth he’d be even angrier that she brought danger to his home.
Before she’d moved from the window, Nathan led his stallion from the barn, mounted it and rode back toward town.
He was leaving?
Wherever he’s going I hope he stays there.
She changed into her blue calico everyday dress, brushed out her hair with ferocity and braided it into a single plait. A quick peek in Rachel’s room showed her sleeping. Then she stomped down the stairs, muttering, “Arrogant man. Dictate orders and expect me just to follow them? I hate to tell him, but this country kicked out kings over a hundred years ago.”
She spent the afternoon making bread and stew for dinner. When it was time to punch down the risen bread, she pretended it was Nathan’s stubborn face. Even that didn’t help ease her anger and frustration. She checked on Rachel, who had awakened from her nap and sat on her floor rocking a cloth doll in her lap. With the little girl occupied for a while, she decided to clean in the attic.
Beneath a layer of dust, Laura found a heavy chair, a rocker and a settee all built from oak. The craftsmanship was amazing. She wondered who had built the pieces. Also, rolled up in the corner lay an old rag rug, which looked large enough to fill the area in front of the kitchen fireplace.
She started with the rug. Dragging it to the attic door, she pushed it down the stairs to the second level. She repeated the process, pulling the heavily woven pile of rags to the second staircase and pushing. It thumped on each step until it landed in a heap at the bottom. The cloud of dust rising from it nearly choked her.
Finally she straddled it between her feet, grabbed one end and waddled through the kitchen out to the porch. With a giant heave, she unrolled it over the railing so it folded in half over the wood to air out.
Back upstairs, she maneuvered the rocker over to the doorway, carefully pulling it down the two staircases one step at a time. She tried not to chip off the wallpaper as she went, although she had to admit any change to the faded gilded paper would be a vast improvement. Once the rocker sat safely in the kitchen, she dusted it off and tried it out.
Whoever built it knew how to make a comfortable chair.
The physical work alleviated some of her anger. While she rocked she hummed a lullaby she’d heard a boarder sing once. After a few minutes, she felt a small hand on her arm. Startled, she saw Rachel with her doll watching the rungs rock back and forth.
“Would you like to sit up here and rock with me?” Her heart skipped a beat then quickened as she waited for the little girl’s reply.
Blink.
Stunned, Laura lifted Rachel onto her lap. “I guess I could use some special company right now anyway. Your daddy is one of the most mule-headed men I’ve ever met. I don’t know why he won’t let me use my own money for things he can’t afford right now. It just doesn’t make sense to me.” Laura relaxed as she rocked the little girl and began humming the lullaby once more.
The light in the evening sky had begun to fade when a knock on the kitchen door broke through the quiet. Laura carried Rachel over to the door and peeked through the curtains to see who would be calling at this hour. She opened the door to greet Sarah’s two sons.
“Hello, it’s Billy and Tom Jr., isn’t it? Come inside, boys.”
“No thank you, ma’am,” the oldest one answered. Both of them removed their hats. “Me and Billy wanted to let you know we was here to milk the cows tonight, so you wouldn’t think there was an animal in the barn or somethin’.”
This announcement rather puzzled Laura. “Why would you be here to milk the cows?”
“Mr. Cantrell, he stopped by earlier and asked us to see to the animals for him tonight. He offered to pay us two bits each, so we agreed to be here before dark to do it.” Billy grinned at the prospect of earning some money in winter.
Laura thought a moment. “Could I come out and watch how you milk the cows? You see, I’ve never done it before, and I probably should learn in case I ever have to do it.”
“Sure, ma’am. We’d be happy to teach you,” Tom answered and Billy bobbed his head in agreement.
“I’ll get my coat and meet you out there.” As the boys ambled down the path to the barn, she grabbed her coat from the rack. She set the Rachel on the floor. “Do you want to stay here while I’m in the barn?”
No response.
“Does that mean you want to come out to the barn with me?”
Blink.
She helped Rachel put on her coat and gloves. “If you should feel very brave one day, the word you should use to say you want to do something is yes. Or if you want you can nod your head like this.” She demonstrated by moving her head up and down. “Can you do that?”
Blink. Then ever so hesitantly, Rachel nodded.
“That was wonderful, Rachel.” A spark of pure joy and pride shot through Laura. She blinked back tears as she gathered the child in her arms and headed for the barn.
The rhythmic sound of milk hitting the pail greeted them. Billy sat milking the brown spotted heifer, one of two Nathan had set aside as milk cows just for the farm. Meanwhile Tom Jr. forked down hay from the loft for the cows in the barn’s larger side. Laura let Rachel down into a pile of hay where she could see her, but far away from the milking area. “Stay right here, sweetheart. Don’t go near the animals.”
Laura stood behind the young teenage boy while he gently squeezed and pulled on the cow’s udder.
“Doesn’t that hurt her?”
“Nope, she’d hurt more if we left the milk
in there. They could get swollen and the milk goes bad, and they bawl all night long from hurtin’, so they don’t mind givin’ up their milk.” Billy continued milking as he spoke.
This made sense. “Do you suppose I could try milking the other cow while you’re here to tell me if I’m doing it right?”
“Sure, grab that other stool over there and sit right up beside her udder,” he instructed. “You just squeeze and pull on the teat, trying to squirt the milk into the pail.” He slowed his rhythm to show her exactly how to do it.
Laura gently took the fleshy teat in her hand, squeezed and pulled it like he’d shown her, letting a stream of milk squirt into the pail. “I did it!”
Billy grinned at her, never breaking his stride.
She worked beside Billy, gathering confidence with each try. Soon her pail was half full. As she milked the cow, she wondered where Nathan was and why he’d hired the boys to do the evening chores for him. Finally her curiosity got the better of her.
“Billy, why exactly was it Nathan asked you boys to come over and help out?” She tried to hide the concern in her voice.
“He said it was ’cause you wouldn’t know how to do the chores yourself.”
“Where was it he was going to be again? I forgot.”
“When we seen him, he was headin’ into the Golden Slipper to have a drink with Mr. Trainer the blacksmith, ma’am. He looked in a right mean mood too. Like someone had really pi— Er, made him mad.” He blushed as he censored his words.
So Nathan went to spend the evening in a saloon drinking with the exact kind of woman he accused her of being. How dare he call her a loose woman as if he were put out by it and yet that’s obviously who he’d gone to see in order to soothe his wounded male pride?
Her milking rhythm became brisk, picking up speed.
Well, she wouldn’t be waiting up for him. No sir. She’d feed Rachel and put her to bed, then she’d take a nice, long, hot bath right in front of the fireplace. She’d enjoy the privacy without worrying about his interrupting her. Yes, that’s exactly what she’d do.
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