Chapter 10
“That’s about it. Just the four rooms, but we can build on when…later.” Erich meant to say when they had children, but decided his new bride might not be ready for that reminder. They’d left the church and come straight to the wood frame house his grandpa had left him.
Prudie had commented on the spacious bedrooms at the back of the house, the large stove in the kitchen, and the chintz curtains at the large window of the parlor. The way she went on about the pump at the dry sink told him she hadn’t been expecting much.
They ended up in the homey parlor where Rusty, who’d dogged their steps, flopped down on the hearth as if worn out. Prudie must be tired too, but he couldn’t bring himself to suggest she go to bed—not yet, and not knowing how she might construe that.
“Want to sit down?” Erich waited until she was seated on the sofa, then took the matching wingchair.
“Erich, you can take off that neck cloth now. It looks like a noose.”
He untied the cravat. “Feels like one too.” It took him a minute to unravel the folds and he was glad Prudie was on his good side. She’d done everything to reassure him she wasn’t offended by his scar, but it still bothered him.
“I like the way the furniture is arranged in here.” Prudie ran her hand along the pattern of the brocade upholstered sofa.
“I want to make a buffet for the dining area. Should make it handy for you to set the table.”
“Do you make furniture?”
“I enjoy working with wood. Pa and I used to make furniture to sell in the valley towns. I made that piece.” He waved a hand to the oak bureau standing between the front door and the window.”
He could see the appreciation in her eyes. “Truly. It’s beautiful. I’d love to have a buffet. Does it take much time? Could you make a pie safe too?”
He laughed. “I’m a lot slower than Pa, but I could have the bureau done in a couple of weeks. I brought some cured oak with me when I moved here. I’m sure there’s enough for a pie safe too.”
Prudie didn’t look as pleased as he’d thought she would. She began to pick at the seam of her overskirt. “Erich, may I be frank with you?”
Something in her tone made him sit up straight. “Sure, you can always be frank.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over them. Prudie’s gaze raced around the room until it rested on the portrait above the mantle. “Is that your grandparents?”
He twisted around to look at the portrait, although he knew what it looked like. “No, that’s my parents. I brought it with me when I moved in. My grandpa didn’t leave any likenesses.”
“I can see your resemblance to your father. Did your parents marry for love?”
He hadn’t expected that question. She seemed to be wandering far afield, and she hadn’t lost any of her nervousness. “For a certainty. My ma and pa didn’t hide their love for each other.”
“My parents married for love too, but only after a long courtship.” She rose abruptly and walked along the back of the sofa. “We didn’t have the advantage of a courtship.”
Tension tightened the back of his neck, forcing him to rub it. “No, but you know why that was.”
“Of course. I had nowhere to stay, and I couldn’t move in with you unless we married right away. I understand that, but we needed a courtship so we could grow in love.”
“I’d have preferred it, but I hope our love will grow anyway.” Maybe what she meant was there’d be time for love to develop. As for him, he was already in love.
“I’m sure it will, Erich, but they…your parents…were in love from the first?”
“I wasn’t there at the time.” He laughed. “But I always had the impression that’s the way it happened.”
Prudie pressed a hand to her forehead. Erich waited patiently. She’d get to the point eventually, though he had a feeling he wouldn’t like it when she did. “Let’s have a courtship, Erich. Even though we’re married, let’s wait until we fall in love before…before we live as a married couple.”
Prudie didn’t have to spell it out any clearer than that. She wasn’t ready to share his bed. He shouldn’t have shaved his beard. Despite what she said, she found his looks abhorrent. Or more likely, he didn’t know how to act around a lady. He didn’t know the right words to use to make her feel desire.
She certainly knew the right way to make him feel desire. All day—no, face it, ever since he’d met her, he’d been thinking about the wedding night. It made him nervous, but definitely something he wanted to experience.
He got up. “I’ll move my things to the smaller bedroom.”
She flew toward him, grabbing his arm, leaving it burning. “No, don’t do that. I’ll take the smaller bedroom. I don’t want to push you out of your bedroom.”
He took her hand and removed it from its grasp. “It’s no trouble. I don’t need much space at all.”
She wouldn’t let him leave. “Erich, I really appreciate your understanding. You have every right to expect a compliant wife, but thank you for giving me time.”
He nodded. “It’s all right, Prudie. You’ll get all the time you need.”
Chapter 11
Prudie itched to spend her time in the store and get started putting her plans in motion, but she couldn’t ignore her household duties, especially since she’d already shirked that other all-important wifely duty. If she were to earn the community’s respect, she’d have to be a model housekeeper.
She’d never appreciated servants more as she started her married life without them. Once the store grew into the business she knew it could be, she’d hired a couple of servants. She’d hire one now if there was one to be found. The same dearth of young ladies that forced men to advertise for mail-order brides meant there were none to hire on as servants.
Household jobs wouldn’t wait. Tasks Prudie had never taken notice of now stared her in the face, demanding to be done. Neither Harvard nor the fancy finishing school she’d attended had prepared her to manage a household.
Erich was a patient man, but even he had limits.
She’d hurt him by rejecting intimacy. It showed in his muted tone and averted glances. He didn’t see their marriage as a business arrangement, as she’d supposed. Not only that, he thought his scar repulsed her. Why had she insisted he shave? Truthfully, the scar didn’t bother her as much as it obviously did him. But maybe it was better to let him think so. As superficial as that was, it wasn’t as callus as the truth. What excuse could she give him when his beard grew back in?
Guilt heckled her. As a new bride, her first concern should be her husband. Erich was a brawny man, but underneath that tough exterior beat a tender heart. She was certain she would learn to love Erich in time, and if he were patient, he might come to love her. Then she’d be able to accept his touch without revulsion.
She considered explaining to him why she’d always shunned marriage, giving him the same reason she’d given her friends. Fear of childbirth, and worse—losing the child.
If Mother had brought all her children to term, Prudie would have seven siblings instead of one.
The same thing need not happen to her, of course. Papa had assured Prudie Mother’s constitution was far more delicate than hers. Deep in her womanly soul, Prudie desired children. It might be a risk, but there was no way of knowing if she could have bring a child to term without consummating her marriage. Without trying.
Her friends would have told her she should have discussed the matter with Erich before the wedding. She couldn’t do that. He might have refused to marry her had he known.
Then, there was the other reason—the one she’d never revealed to anyone. She’d always managed to keep it hidden from conscious thought, but now, it hovered over her like that other shoe, ready to drop. She couldn’t discuss it with Erich. Ever.
So Prudie kept quiet, but remorse stabbed her every time she caught him watching her with something like regret shadowing his deep gray eyes.
If she couldn’t give
him the affection he craved, at least she could prove her worth as a housewife. She’d keep his home neat and comfortable, and feed him well. After that, she’d help him make a success of the store.
After a week, she was willing to admit keeping house was no easy feat, and cooking would never be her forte. But she’d never admitted failure in anything. Eventually she’d be able to set meals on the table fit to eat. The time would come when she wouldn’t have to hold her breath as Erich chewed the roast she’d prepared, praying he didn’t choke. God would surely help her in this regard. He’d given her a good husband, and she’d take care of him—if she didn’t kill him with her cooking first.
Because of her insistence that they sleep separately, she had two beds to make up in the morning. After that, breakfast had to be prepared. Dusting. Cleaning. Laundry. And everything took an inordinate amount of time. Time she could put to use learning about their customers, their competitors, ordering new items, researching the region for expansion into catalogue sales.
She spit on the hot iron, and judging it hot enough, took it to the ironing board where one of Erich’s shirts lay. Unfortunately, after she’d learned how to do them, most of these household tasks were mindless, leaving her free to worry. She almost welcomed the mistakes when they came. Mistakes were bound to happen when one learned by trial and error, as Erich reminded her after she’d ruined his white shirt.
Maybe she’d made more than her share of mistakes, including scorching one of her best dresses, but she’d get by until they were well enough off to hire a housekeeper.
She didn’t understand how she could follow the same recipes as Carianne’s excellent cook and produce a dish that tasted so different. It wasn’t like she had no experience. She’d taken time messing around in the big kitchen at the townhouse, making dainty little confections for tea. But that fare didn’t fill a hungry man.
Erich was plenty hungry after working all afternoon on the furniture he was making. They’d decided—or maybe she’d decided—he could make useful pieces to sell in the store. He enjoyed the work better than running the store anyway, though he went to the mercantile each morning. Eustace took over in the afternoon.
Prudie grabbed every spare moment she could in the store, but those moments were too few. Maybe after she learned to do the household chores, she could get them out of the way faster.
She hung the ironed shirt on a peg and took the iron back to the stove, knowing it had grown too cool for the next shirt. While she was in the kitchen, a knock sounded at the front door.
Prudie hadn’t had any visitors, and curiosity hurried her steps back to the parlor.
A grinning Sibbie greeted her.
Prudie waved Sibbie inside. “This is a surprise. Please have a seat.” She snatched a pair of Erich’s long johns from the chair and wadded them into a ball. “I’d offer you some refreshment, but unfortunately, I have nothing at the moment.”
“Think nothing of it. I just got a hankering to see how you were getting on. Hadn’t seen you around much, not that I should have, you being on your honeymoon, so to speak.”
“I’ve been busy. I’m not used to keeping house, and it’s taking some time to put everything in order.” Including her jumbled thoughts. “I try to spend a little time at the store every afternoon, though I think Eustace would rather I didn’t.”
“Yeah, Ben told me he’d seen you at the store a time or two.” Sibbie pushed back against the chair’s cushion. “How’ve you been doing?”
“Very well…and you?”
“I can’t complain. A few aches and pains now and then, but nothing unusual for my age.” Sibbie glanced around the room, and Prudie cringed at the laundry strewn over the furniture.
Sibbie fastened her gaze on Prudie again. “I saw Erich in the store the other day, and he asked me if I knew of some girl he could hire to help you out.”
Erich hadn’t said anything to Prudie, and she hadn’t asked him, though he’d have to be blind not to see her struggling.
She couldn’t think of a response, so she just smiled. Sibbie shifted in her seat. “I’m sorry to say, I couldn’t think of anyone. Is there anything I can do to help you out?”
“That’s kind of you, but no. I don’t know why Erich would think I needed help.” A silly thing to say. Anyone could look at this room and tell she needed help.
Sibbie laughed. “It’s pretty obvious Erich is smitten. Enjoy it while you can, I say. A man is never more considerate than right after the wedding.” When Prudie rolled her eyes, Sibbie added, “Erich had a hard time being around people when he first came to town, owing to the fact he lived like a hermit for so long. But he loves you, sugar.”
Erich loved her? How could he love her? He barely knew her, and she hadn’t given him any reason to love her. Sibbie must be mistaken.
“At the risk of sounding like a brash old woman, I’m going to ask you something, Prudie, and you can tell me it’s none of my business, if you want.”
“I’d never think that of you.” Sibbie was brash, but Prudie liked that about her.
“Why did you come out here to Bent Fork?”
“That should be obvious—to get married.”
“Huh. You’re telling me you couldn’t find anybody back east? You’re a beautiful woman and very educated. Not the type who’d have to settle for being a mail-order bride. Yes, I’ve noticed how cultured you are, though you try hard to talk like us.” Sibbie was not only brash, she was shrewd. “I’ll bet you went to college.”
“I did.”
“Where’d you go?”
It wasn’t that Prudie meant to hide her education. She just felt there might be those who’d hold it against her, and make Erich feel like he couldn’t measure up. She considered lying, but it wasn’t likely Sibbie would know anything about eastern colleges anyway. “Harvard.”
Sibbie’s measured look told Prudie she did know. “I always thought Harvard was a rich man’s school.” She noticed the newspaper lying on the occasional table at her elbow and held it up. “We may live in the wilderness, sugar, but we know about what goes on in the world.”
Prudie crossed her arms, rearing back in her seat. “Well, you don’t know everything. Harvard started allowing women to sit for their classes four years ago.”
Sibbie lifted her brows. “The world’s moving faster than I realized. What did you go for? Teaching?”
“No, I studied business. My father wanted me to go.”
Annoyance scrunched Sibbie’s forehead. She huffed as she leaned in toward Prudie. “You know what I’m getting at. It’s usually penniless eastern women who answer ads for mail-order brides. If your father sent you to Harvard, he didn’t leave you penniless.”
Prudie clenched her teeth. She wanted to get into the good graces of the townspeople, and Sibbie was an influential member of the town, but Prudie refused to explain how she’d gone to Harvard. It was none of Sibbie’s business. Did she think Prudie was a fortune hunter?
She was tired of the interrogation, and Sibbie was getting too close to the truth. “My brother lost our business. I had to marry, and frankly I found eastern men too pompous for my liking.” Her irritation had made her tone too harsh.
Sibbie took no offense. Her cackle broke the tension. “I expect they were afraid of an educated woman. You made a wise choice. Erich isn’t intimated by anyone.”
He had no reason to be. Erich was probably more knowledgeable, and certainly better read, than she was. Every evening before bedtime, he joined her in the parlor while she worked on her mending, and read to her, stopping to ask her opinion. They would argue the merits of the book, and she enjoyed matching wits with Erich. Now that she thought of it, she looked forward to their evenings together.
“You have a brother? Erich told me you were an only child like him.”
A retort hovered on Prudie’s tongue, and the change in subjects disconcerted her for a moment. “I didn’t mention Samuel because, frankly, the subject hasn’t come up. Erich and I haven’t
known each other very long. We haven’t had time to discuss everything.” They hadn’t discussed anything personal. It was as if they skirted around any issue that hinted at intimacy.
“True, but don’t you think he’d want to know he had a brother-in-law.”
“It’s not likely they’ll ever meet. I don’t want to see Samuel again.”
Sibbie’s eyes widened. “Oh, I see. I’ve gone too far. Please forgive my boldness, sugar. I speak freely because I’m so fond of you, and of Erich too. I only want the best for you both.”
Prudie didn’t want to offend Sibbie. The store’s success depended on garnering the good will of all the town’s citizens. Sibbie and Ben were town leaders. She forced a smile. “Erich and I are fond of you and Ben. As soon as I get everything in order, I’d be pleased to have you two for dinner.”
Laughter rose in her throat at how ill-prepared she was for a dinner party. “You can’t expect much of my cooking, but we’ll enjoy each other’s company.”
With some effort, Sibbie hefted her solid bulk from the sofa’s deep cushions. “I appreciate the invitation, but don’t go out of your way for us. We’re just plain home bodies.”
Realizing Sibbie intended to take her leave, Prudie got to her feet to walk her to the door. “Don’t forget I want to work on your campaign.”
“My campaign?” Sibbie laughed. “Oh, you mean for mayor, well that won’t happen until next summer.
Prudie closed the door behind her. Next summer. Would the store be prosperous by then? Would she and Erich be a normal married couple? The store seemed a much easier goal.
That little demon of guilt stabbed her again. Had she really been callus enough to marry Erich for his store? So what? She was holding up her end of the bargain, wasn’t she? She was doing her best to be a good wife, a helpmate. That’s all he expected. It was ridiculous to think he’d fall in love with her so quickly.
The Annex Mail-Order Brides: Preque (Intrigue Under Western Skies Book 0) Page 27
