A Bride for Keeps

by Melissa Jagears

  “Fine,” he said. A smile broke out on his lips, small, undesigned.

  She smiled back. “I saw you won the competition.”

  He nodded. And then he reached for the side of her face.

  She jumped back out of his reach, wrapping her arms about herself. A chill burned a pathway where he’d almost touched her and lodged in her chest.

  Frowning, he clamped onto her shoulder. “Hold still. You have sawdust about to fall into your eye.” He brushed a thumb along the corner of her right eye, then dropped his hand. He crossed his arms and looked askance at the ground.

  She released her grip on her arms and tried to act normal. She couldn’t blame him for looking so baffled. She didn’t even understand her own reaction. One second she’d been smiling, the next reliving a day with Theodore she never wanted to remember. “Sorry. You scared me.” She wanted to forever banish those thoughts, not share them. Stuffing them inside would keep them away—from her, from him, from everybody.

  “I apologize . . . for whatever it was. I need to go.” He sidestepped her, but she moved with him.

  She couldn’t let him go, not when it’d looked like he was about to open up to her before she’d ruined it. “Could you show me around your place before I head in to make lunch?” She tried to look exceptionally eager, pretend nothing odd had happened. If those feelings resurfaced, she’d have to refuse to react. “Just a quick tour, since you’re taking a break?”

  “I don’t have much time.”

  “I understand.” She flashed her sweetest smile.

  He abruptly looked away and moved off to the side of the house. “Here’s the well if you ladies need water for lunch.”

  Julia relaxed and walked over to him. Maybe she could draw him back out . . . if she could control herself and the troubling flashes of memories.

  Everett pointed toward the construction site. “That, of course, will be the barn for the animals that now shelter in the soddy.”

  “What will you use the soddy for?”

  “I’m thinking of using it for tanning and storing furs.”

  “What do you do with the furs?” Furs. Surely he wouldn’t do business with Addison Fur Company out here on the plains. But what if Theodore’s family business made rounds in this part of Kansas? Would he be involved with the transactions? A shiver wound up her spine.

  “Sell them.”

  Her mouth went dry. “What company do you sell them to?”

  He looked down at her. “No company, just Carl Hampden at the mercantile. He might sell them to a particular company. You could ask him if you’re interested.”

  “Oh, I’m not interested.” Her heart slowed its pace, and she could breathe again. Julia pointed to a pasture, its ground ripped with black seams. “What’s over there?”

  “That’s where I’ll plant corn.” Everett turned to face her. “I’m sorry, but I have to get water for the men. If you’ll excuse me.”

  “Why didn’t you ask me to get it?” Was he trying to ignore her?

  “I didn’t want to bother you.”

  She laid her hand on his arm. “But I’m out here to help you.”

  His wide eyes swung to her fingers. Julia dropped her hand.

  He grabbed at his forearm where she had touched him. Was he trying to get the feeling of her touch off him? Everett looked at her askance. “So you’d get us some water?”

  “Yes—”

  “Thank you.” Everett tipped his hat and strode off.

  She stamped the ground. Fine. Forget about talking. She tromped to the shack and flung open the front door. The top hinge let loose and the wooden door thudded against the jamb. She gasped. “I broke Everett’s door!”

  Rachel laughed. “Don’t worry about it. He’s had to fix that door a hundred times. You ought to suggest better hinges for the new house.”

  She stepped into the leaning, filthy structure. “He’s building a new house?”

  Rachel nodded.

  The desire to sigh with relief overwhelmed her. She grabbed a few onions and worked at tearing off their skins next to Helga, who peeled potatoes.

  “Done playing outside?” Rachel’s amused voice made her cringe.

  She shrugged. “It was time to help with lunch.”

  Rachel dropped her needle and the pair of pants she was mending into a basket and stretched. “Guess I can’t let you two do all the work readying the food and drink.”

  “Drink!” She dropped her onion. “I’m supposed to be getting water.”

  Julia rushed out with a bucket, filled it, and hurried over to the men, sloshing water on her boots.

  Everett stopped laughing when she reached the outskirts of the construction area. Was she that disappointing she killed his mood the second she walked into view? What could she do to prove she could work hard enough to be of worth?

  He took the bucket, refilled the men’s jugs, and returned the empty bucket to her. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She placed her hand on his arm again. It tensed under her fingers. They both stared at her hand.

  Everett’s glance moved to her face for a few seconds. His eyes reminded her of the frightened jackrabbit she’d scared from its hiding place by the privy this morning.

  His arm disappeared from under her hand, and he left her alone. At the barn’s frame, he turned sideways to walk through the wall studs. Within seconds, he had climbed to the top of the roof.

  Julia pursed her lips. Scared and not talkative.

  Well, perhaps her future husband was simply shy. That had to be good—a man who was skittish was not a man who’d force her against her will. She heaved a sigh. He had to be her answer.

  With one hammer blow, Everett drove another nail through both boards.

  “What have those nails done to you?” Dex scooted along the roof’s beam. Behind him, the fading light of day shrouded his friend in shadow.

  “Just trying to get as much done as possible before the sun sets.”

  “Or you’re pretending each nail’s head is shaped rather like Axel’s.”

  Everett glanced over to his shack, where Ned was yelling at Helga to get moving and Axel had found a need to chitchat with the women, leaving his father and brother lounging in their wagon. Normally, Axel would have been dogging William’s heels, but his childhood friend obviously paled in comparison to Julia. Of course, Everett agreed with his assessment. “He wasn’t so bad. I’ll have to go over every joint and beam Ned worked on, though.”

  “That’s not what I was talking about and you know it.”

  “Then why don’t you talk plainer?”

  “You’re giving her up, then?”

  “In order to give something up, you have to have it in the first place.” Everett wasn’t even going to ask God for anything this time—he had before and gotten nothing.

  “She came here for you.”

  “She came here for Rachel.”

  “And you’re going to let Axel have her? He’s a scant two years older than William.”

  “No, I’m not going to let him have her.” Everett wondered how old Julia was. He was afraid to ask. Would she rather marry closer in age, despite the boy being younger? “I’d rather she be allowed to choose who she wants rather than feel obligated to fulfill a make-believe arrangement.”

  “She doesn’t know about that. Rachel hasn’t told her.”

  “And all the more reason to give her room to decide.” Would she choose him? Today she’d seen the whole miserable mess of a farm he claimed as his own—the same one that caused Helga to look elsewhere. Though Helga probably rued her decision more than he.

  Axel’s thick, throaty laughter snaked its way from the cabin and squeezed at Everett’s guts. This time a man closer to Julia in age—and charming to boot—openly pursued his mail-order bride.

  He’d proposed marriage to her on the first day, and she’d yet to accept. Everett wouldn’t push her, but with each day, his faint hope faded. How many times could this happen to him before
he felt like less than a man?

  “You could lose her to Axel.”

  Everett sat back and looked at the moon in the pale blue sky. With each bride he’d brought to Kansas, the more fearful he’d grown of being jilted and the more humiliated he’d felt when he was. He had to completely let Julia go and let the Lord direct their paths. If Axel won her, Everett would have to learn to deal with it, just like he had with the others. “Then he’d be a lucky man.”

  Now all he had to do was prayerfully fight the urge to follow Dex’s tempting suggestion of imagining Axel’s face on the head of every nail.

  Chapter 5

  Julia sat in the rocking chair, sewing. She was doing tolerably well after nearly two weeks of Rachel’s instruction on stitching, but she’d learned nothing more about Everett. He’d only stopped by once since the day of the barn raising.

  “Ouch!” Julia stuck a bleeding finger in her mouth.

  Rachel chuckled. “That dress is going to be dotted with blood the way you’re going. Perhaps you should start stamping your fingers on the cloth to make a pattern. Won’t notice the stains that way.”

  Julia crumpled the bodice piece in her lap. “I’m no good at this.”

  “You’ll get better. You’ve no choice.” Rachel stacked some freshly washed plates on the shelf behind the stove. “No tailor around here.”

  Ambrose opened the door for Dex, who was carrying a load of wood, before climbing the loft’s ladder.

  “I’m tired of having to take my seams out.” She took her tiny scissors and chomped them through the stitches she’d undone three times already. “It’s taking forever.” She shoved the blades through a knotted piece of threading. The scissors slipped through and right into Dex’s torso.

  “Woman!” Dex dumped his handful of logs and grabbed his side. “More antics like that and see if I let you sit around all day while I slave away, bringing in your wood.”

  “Sorry.” She worked at keeping a straight face. She never knew if he was serious or not. If he wasn’t, he’d make a to-do over her amusement when he was in pain, and if he was, well, it wasn’t kind to laugh, even if he was overreacting

  Rachel inspected Dex’s shirt. “He’s fine. Not even bleeding. Barely a hole.”

  “An unpleasant little hole.” Dex rubbed his side.

  Julia leaned back into the chair. A yelp caused her to jump from the seat. Emma turned on the waterworks, clutching her little hand against her chest.

  Rachel scooped her up. “Mama’s told you not to play behind the rocking chair.”

  “Dolly!” Emma’s hands reached for her doll, whose porcelain fingers lay precariously under the chair’s rocking edge.

  Julia handed the doll to Emma. The little girl clutched the toy to her chest, and a big drop of moisture fell onto its painted face.

  “I’m sorry, Emma. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Taking care to look behind her first, Julia lowered herself into the rocker. “Seems I’m intent on drawing blood from everyone tonight.”

  “That’s why we’re staying up here!” John leaned over the loft edge.

  Ambrose’s curly fair head appeared next to John. “Yeah, it’s dangerous down there.”

  Giggles burst from the two boys dangling over the living room as Dex walked around, hunched over and moaning, his hand clutching where she’d stabbed him.

  Julia yanked her dress bodice from the basket and pulled out the rest of her seam. She took her time, making sure the few family members who’d yet to receive a wound from her tonight remained unscathed.

  “What I don’t understand is how a woman can know how to cook, but not know how to sew.” Dex lowered himself into a chair, with a wince for good measure. Then he winked before pulling out a paper and pen.

  Julia sighed. “I didn’t know how to cook until about six months ago. That’s when I answered Everett’s ad, or rather Rachel’s. I’d run away from home—”

  “You’re a runaway?” The eyes of the two boys above her turned as large as their ears. And it seemed that little boys had big ears.

  “Yes, I ran away from home.”

  “Why?”

  “I’d rather not discuss that.” She squirmed in her seat and frowned at another misplaced stitch. “But I couldn’t find a job as a clerk. So I started working at . . . at a tavern. But only in the kitchen, mind you. Seems a saloon as shabby as Halson’s doesn’t care too much if the cook has no idea what she’s doing.”

  Rachel turned to frown. “They let you stay in the kitchen?”

  Julia hung her head. “They were desperate, and no. Once the other cook was no longer sick and could handle cooking again, they wanted me to serve in the front. But that only caused problems. . . .”

  Dex hummed in disapproval.

  “But I learned a lot from Marie. But I wouldn’t say I’m a good cook.” Her thread wasn’t pulling out very easily. As she turned over the fabric, the knotted mess underneath made her growl. “Just like I’ll never be a good seamstress.”

  “You’ll do just fine. We might never fully overcome our problems, but God never gives us more than we can handle.” Dex smiled, then turned to Rachel with a frown. “Like spelling. How do you spell calves?”

  William trudged in reeking of barnyard animals. Pulling a chair from the corner, he leaned over to take off his boots. The sound of his yawn filled the room.

  While William gave his parents a rundown on the cattle’s condition, Julia worked steadily. But she couldn’t focus. All she could think about was how much of a burden she was to this family and her need to relieve them of her presence. After folding her material, she dropped her scissors into the basket. “I’m going to go to bed. ’Night, everyone.”

  “Good night,” the boys’ voices chimed in above her.

  “Good night,” Rachel said, grabbing Julia’s shawl to hand to her.

  Julia opened the front door. The night air was a welcome relief on her sweaty skin. She let her eyes adjust before stepping off the porch and scurrying across the yard.

  She never thought she’d be thankful for getting to sleep outdoors with animals, but when she entered the barn, the draftiness was a welcome change from the cabin’s smoky stuffiness.

  Daisy mooed when Julia gave her a quick pat. “I’ll see you in the morning, old girl.” Then she climbed the ladder and scurried over to her pallet of hay. After changing into her nightdress, she flopped down across the quilts and sighed. Emma’s wails reached her ears from the house. Julia smiled. Emma hated going to bed, and she couldn’t blame her. She didn’t want to be in bed either, but she couldn’t stay in the house. There simply wasn’t room for another adult.

  Julia knew it was time she stopped eating their food and interrupting their routine. She couldn’t remain a permanent houseguest no matter how much she’d miss Rachel’s daily company. The thought of never seeing Rachel again hurt. How sad that a woman she’d known for such a short time was the only person in the world she could trust. And going back to writing Rachel letters was unappealing.

  She mentally tallied her money. Half remained. She could go somewhere else if she wanted to—travel as far as her money could take her—and hope there was something there for her. It could be better, but it could be so much worse. She’d had worse, and she didn’t want it again. With Rachel’s recommendation of Everett and his own respectful distance, she didn’t think he’d ever hurt her like Theodore had.

  But would he marry her? He’d been over once this past week but had said nothing to her beyond what was necessary. Yet she’d seen that spark of male interest in his eye. She wasn’t too thrilled about that spark being there, but it meant that this option might not be lost.

  No matter how much she thought over each alternative, she couldn’t choose. So Everett would have to decide. Tomorrow.

  After breakfast, Julia and Rachel waved good-bye to Dex and the boys, who were going to Everett’s to mend a fence and then were bringing him back with them for supper. She’d decided to ask Everett today and now she’d get t
o, but the certainty of doing so made her jittery. She threw herself into performing her allotted chores. If he saw how many things she’d learned in two weeks’ time, wouldn’t he be more receptive? Hadn’t that been his qualm, that she couldn’t do the work necessary to be of service to him?

  Later that afternoon, while Rachel cared for Emma and worked inside, Julia fed the livestock and cleaned the animal stalls. Nerves quickened her pace so she had time to try her hand at chopping the stack of golden hedge wood, surely a good chore to work out nervous tension. Thankful the others weren’t around to see her first pitiful attempts at swinging an ax, she hacked until her shoulders ached. The pile of wood grew, and her pent-up aggravation eased. In no time she’d be able to do farm chores without difficulty.

  The creaking of a wagon and voices of men alerted her to the Stantons’ return. It was only a matter of time until she’d speak to Everett.

  Balancing a pile of wood in her arms for the supper fire, she turned the corner of the house and thumped into his chest. The wood fell, and she tried to pull her feet from the kindling’s trajectory. One piece managed to thwack her toe anyway. She grimaced.

  Dex came up behind Everett. “You got enough wood?”

  She nodded. “Chopped it myself.” Why was Everett always around when she looked like a fool?

  Dex stacked the wood pieces in the crook of one arm. “I’ll take these in. Doesn’t look like there’s much left to teach you, so why don’t you stable the oxen?”

  “Do you need me to do that now?”

  Dex shook his head. “I was kidding, Julia. The boys’ll do it.”

  “No, teach me if you don’t mind.” Looking directly at Everett, she squared her shoulders. “I’m plenty capable of doing whatever’s needed. You just have to show me.”

  Dex mounted the stairs behind his boys. “Everett can show you.”

  Looking unhappy, Everett spun and headed toward the team. “Come. It’s not hard,” he called to her over his shoulder.

  She pursed her lips. She knew it wasn’t hard; she just didn’t know exactly what needed to be done or where things went.