Patty's Gamble

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  “Would you have preferred it if I’d straddled the saddle and had the dress blowing up my legs?” It hadn’t been Patty’s intention to snap at her, but Evelyn had a way of bringing out the worst in her.

  Evelyn shook her head and clucked her tongue. “No wonder Greg didn’t look happy.”

  “He’s happy.”

  Evelyn laughed as if she found the statement to be the most amusing thing she’d ever heard. “You must think I’m blind. The man looks as if he’s been told his favorite horse just died.”

  Patty glanced at Greg who was talking to Mitch. Her eyebrows furrowed. Did he look like he was miserable? It was hard to tell. He seemed fine. He wasn’t screaming or moping or glaring at her. He was simply sharing a conversation with Mitch, and if she judged right, he seemed at ease.

  “You might have tricked Greg into marrying you, but he isn’t happy about it,” Evelyn said. “I’ve been married for five years, and I can tell when a man’s happy.”

  “He is happy.”

  Evelyn chuckled. “No, my dear, he’s not. The man’s been coerced into marrying you, and since he is a man of his word, he can’t divorce you.”

  “You know what your problem is?” Patty asked, pretending that Evelyn’s words didn’t bother her.

  “What’s that?”

  “You have made your own husband miserable for so long, you’ve forgotten what happiness really looks like.”

  Granted, it wasn’t the most cunning retort Patty could have come up with, but it was the best she could do on short notice. Stepping around Evelyn, she hurried over to her father so she could talk to someone she enjoyed. How she hated talking to Evelyn! The woman had a way of making even the strongest of people feel insecure.

  “What’s wrong, Patty?” her pa asked.

  “Nothing.”

  His eyebrows furrowed in a way that told her he didn’t believe her. “Is it Greg? Is he being mean to you?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Because if he is, you’re always welcome to come back home.”

  “Honestly, Pa, do you believe he’d be mean to me?”

  After a moment, he said, “He’s upset. He’d probably be rude, but no, I don’t think he’d mistreat you.”

  “Are you going to sit with us today?”

  “I’m not sure he wants to be around me right now.”

  She peered up at him, using the expression she’d often heard him say made it hard for him to say no. “Then think of it as sitting with me, Mitch, and Heather.”

  He smiled at her. “Alright. I will.”

  “Good.” Even if she was glad to be with Greg, living in his house, she did miss her father. As she picked up a plate, she asked, “Do you think Greg might like his house prettied up?”

  “In what way do you mean?”

  “Well, by the looks of the place, no one would know he ever had a mother.”

  Her father studied her as she reached for a piece of fried chicken. “Nothing at all?”

  “Nope.” She’d thought it was odd too, at first, but after hearing about how his ma left him, it made sense. If her mother had done that to her, she’d probably get rid of all traces of her, too. “Those curtains with the lace edges and the rugs and little knickknacks she collected… Do you like those things?”

  “I do,” he quietly replied. “It’s nice to remember she was once a part of our lives.”

  “Exactly. When you look at those things, you think of her, don’t you?”

  “Once in a while. Over the years, they just became a part of the house. But if I think about it, I remember her and it brings a smile to my face.”

  “Then I should pretty up Greg’s house.”

  And maybe he’d get used to it and start thinking of her whenever he saw her things. Maybe it would ease him into the marriage. At the very least, it was worth a try. She’d already been doing his laundry and cleaning up the house. And he still refused to touch anything she cooked. This was the only thing she hadn’t tried yet to prove she had what it took to be a good wife.

  “Will you take me to the mercantile?” she asked when she finished loading her plate with food.

  “I suspected that’s where this conversation was going,” he said. “You know I can’t say no to you. You’re my only child. And,” he added with a tender smile in her direction, “you’re the best thing your ma ever gave me.”

  Returning his smile, she hugged him. “Thanks, Pa.”

  He swallowed and brushed back a tear. Yes, he was a man and had his pride, but he had one of the softest hearts around. Slipping her arm around his, she led him to Greg, Mitch, Heather, and Mitch’s mother so they could enjoy their brunch before the service.

  Chapter Eleven

  Three days later, Patty sat on the porch railing after breakfast, bored as she waited for her pa to take her to the mercantile. Once again, Greg refused to eat what she made, and once again, she wondered what he was doing for food. The man never complained about being hungry, but she knew he had to be. Either that, or he was finding a way to eat somewhere else because Marv had been true to his word and had not given him anything.

  Patty crossed her arms and leaned against the post on the porch. The ranch hands looked happy out there. Archie and Randy were heading out to the fields. Herb was washing down a horse. Marv was cleaning up the cook stove. Lyle was fixing a fence with a couple other ranch hands a ways off. Boaz was training the horse Greg said needed work. She wished she was doing something out there.

  With a sigh, her gaze went back to Boaz since he was closest to her. She watched him for a few minutes. She could see why Greg hired him. He was good with horses, and from the looks of it, the horse was quickly coming to trust him. But even so, she couldn’t help but think she could do a better job. She’d trained all of the horses on her pa’s land. She’d even trained some he sold. And she caught a little thing here and there in the way Boaz touched the horse that was pushing the animal a little too far than what it was ready for. But it wasn’t her place to make a suggestion since she was only a woman, so she kept silent.

  Before long, she heard the familiar squeak of wagon wheels and saw her pa coming in her direction. Excited, she jumped down from the railing in time for Greg to come out of the house.

  He slipped his hat on his head, looked in her pa’s direction, and smiled. Ignoring her, he bounded down the steps and waited for her pa to stop. Undeterred by his aloofness, she followed him, intentionally stepping right up to him so her arm brushed his.

  Scowling at her, he headed for the driver’s side of the wagon. “You came to your senses and will take Patty home?” he greeted, an undeniable hopeful tone in his voice.

  “Afraid not, Greg,” her father said as he got down. “I’m taking her to the mercantile to buy some things to make your house a home.”

  Patty pretended she didn’t notice Greg’s grimace as her pa helped her into the wagon. “I’m going to make our home all nice and pretty, just like a wife is supposed to do,” she told Greg.

  “That’s not necessary,” Greg blandly replied.

  “Of course, it is,” she argued. “Your place is much too bare. There’s no warmth in it at all.” And that was the truth. Once she got done decorating the place, it would be a very comfortable place to live. “You just wait until it’s done. You’ll like what I have in mind.”

  He let out a loud groan, not at all shy about revealing his feelings on the matter.

  Her pa chuckled and patted Greg on the shoulder. “It will look nicer.”

  “What if I pay you to take her back?” Greg offered. “I can give you cattle or horses or some of my land.”

  Her pa got in beside her and picked up the reins. “Considering we’re related by marriage, you’ll inherit everything I own once I die. There’s no need for me to take anything of yours.”

  “I had no idea you could be so stubborn.”

  Her pa shrugged. “Now you know where Patty gets it.”

  Greg sighed and headed for the barn.
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  As her pa released the brake, he glanced her way. “Are you sure he’s going to accept your marriage in this lifetime?”

  Giggling, she said, “Yes, he will.”

  Though he didn’t seem convinced, he didn’t argue with her. The ride to town was a pleasant one, and she enjoyed a carefree conversation about the animals and ranch hands on her pa’s ranch.

  When they entered the mercantile, her pa motioned to the back of the store. “Everything you want is over there. I’ll be with you when I’m done with my own shopping.”

  With a nod, she hurried to the section he indicated. Thank goodness some of the ladies in town made things to sell at the mercantile. She wouldn’t want to waste her time sewing. Cooking was alright. At least she got to eat things she wanted when she did that, but she much preferred to order clothes in a catalogue than make them herself. The same was true for curtains and rugs. To her benefit, some women actually enjoyed making such things, and that saved her a lot of trouble.

  While she didn’t find the green curtains she wanted, she did find yellow, orange and white, so she picked those out. Then she picked up a few rugs. She even picked a large beige one that her pa could put in the parlor.

  “Are you sure you want those colors?” came an irritatingly familiar voice.

  Stiffening, Patty turned from her basket to face her least favorite person. “Morning, Evelyn.”

  “Patty,” Evelyn greeted with a slight nod. “I couldn’t help but notice you’re gathering curtains and rugs. I assume you intend to make Greg’s house more like a home.”

  “Of course. That’s what wives do.”

  “You’re right. A beautiful home is the true mark of a good wife. I must commend you for acknowledging that.”

  “Really?” Patty asked, not sure she’d heard right. Evelyn was commending her on something? Did Evelyn know what ‘commending’ meant? Patty studied the woman’s expression and realized Evelyn had been sincere. “Well, thanks,” she hesitantly said.

  “Don’t thank me. You’re the one who got the idea, and all by yourself. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

  Now that was the Evelyn Patty recognized. Patty forced back an eye roll and smiled. “I’m full of surprises alright.”

  “That you are. However,” Evelyn glanced at the basket next to Patty on the floor, “yellow, orange, white, and brown aren’t exactly feminine colors.”

  “No, they aren’t, but yellows and oranges remind me of the sun. The white and brown are nice neutral colors I’m sure Greg will like.”

  “A woman’s house is her domain. It’s where she has complete control to do whatever she wants. Here.” Evelyn selected a pink curtain that made Patty wince. “If you don’t like this,” she pointed to a peach one, “this is a good compromise. It’s a mixture of pink and orange. Better yet, it’s subtle.” After a moment, she added, “Of course, a nice pattern will also work.”

  Patty bit her tongue so she wouldn’t say she didn’t like the peach any more than she liked the pink, nor was she partial to the little purple bow pattern the woman selected. When she looked at curtains, she wanted to think of the sun and being outside. She supposed the colors could remind her of the sunrise or sunset, but she preferred the bright colors of midday.

  “Men like these colors?” Patty slowly asked as she took the pink curtain and studied it. What was it about pink—specifically—that bothered her?

  “Sure, they do as long as the woman picks them out.”

  “But don’t men like the other colors, too?”

  “I suppose,” Evelyn said with a shrug, “if they don’t mind being reminded they aren’t married. It’s up to you. If you don’t want the house to remind Greg of you, then by all means, use the orange, yellow, and white colors. Who knows? He might even prefer it since he didn’t want to marry you in the first place.” Evelyn waved to someone, and Patty turned to see Gracie, Jill, and Jill’s boy enter the mercantile. “I’ll see you at church, Patty,” Evelyn said, tapping her arm. “But I hope you’ll have the sense to show up in a wagon or buggy this time.”

  With a sigh, Patty turned back to the curtains. While her mother loved pink, she didn’t. It was fine on a flower, but that was about it. Was there something wrong with her because she didn’t like overtly feminine things? She picked up the peach curtains and ran her hands over them. This color was more agreeable. Perhaps it’d be a suitable compromise after all.

  “What’s wrong, Patty?”

  She glanced up at her father, not surprised he caught her change in mood. Of all the people she knew, he understood her better than anyone. “Why did Ma like pink?”

  “She liked a lot of colors.”

  “Yes, but I remember she wore pink, and we have pink curtains in the house.”

  “Don’t let Evelyn tell you how to be a woman,” her father said. “You are not her. And you’re not your mother. I loved your mother. You know that.”

  She nodded.

  “And I love you, too. Look Patty, not everyone is supposed to be the same. Your love of horses and the land comes from me. Your fiery spirit and sense of humor comes from your ma. You’re a mix of both of us. So what if you don’t like pink or sewing or anything else that Evelyn says you should? It’s the way you’re supposed to be.”

  “Maybe Evelyn’s right. Maybe Greg doesn’t like me the way I am.”

  “I remember the way Greg used to come up to talk to you when you were younger, and I don’t recall you ever being overtly feminine back then.”

  “So you do think he cared about me all along?”

  “Patty, just because he cares, it doesn’t mean he wanted to act on his feelings.” When she frowned, he added, “But since he did care back then, there was something you were doing right. And,” he gestured to Evelyn who was cackling on the other side of the store, “it wasn’t because you were following her advice. What colors do you want to put in the house?”

  “White, yellow and orange.”

  “Not blue? If I recall right, blue is your favorite color.”

  “I figure the sky is blue, and when you look out the window, you’ll see that color.”

  “Unless it’s cloudy.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe blue would be good for the bedroom.”

  “It would. And there’s nothing wrong with the other colors you mentioned. They go well in the kitchen, parlor, and a baby’s room,” he smiled, “should there be a need for such a room.”

  Feeling better, she selected the colors she wanted. As her pa was paying for the items she’d collected, Jill came up to her.

  “Hi, Jill,” she greeted, noting that Evelyn was still talking to Gracie and holding Jill’s son in her arms.

  Evelyn glanced Patty’s way. Her gaze went to the blue, orange, yellow, and white curtains. She gave a slight shake of her head before turning her attention back to Gracie.

  “Can we talk outside?” Jill asked.

  Patty turned to her pa who indicated that he’d be out soon with their things. She followed Jill out of the store and to a bench.

  “Don’t let Eve bother you,” Jill said as she sat down.

  “I don’t like to call her Eve. I prefer to call her Evelyn,” Patty replied, settling beside her.

  “Really? How come?”

  Patty shrugged. “Evelyn seems formal and stuffy. It fits her better.”

  Jill giggled but quickly placed her hand over her mouth.

  Relaxing since Jill at least enjoyed her joke, Patty asked, “How have things been for you?”

  “Good.” Then with a slight pink gracing her cheeks, she added, “I had a wonderful time at the square dance. I can’t remember when I enjoyed myself more. Those ranch hands really know how to have a good time. I’m only sorry that Greg didn’t come out and join in the festivities.”

  “Oh, he only wanted to prove that he didn’t need to have fun in order to have fun.”

  Jill stared at her for a moment then giggled again. “It took me a moment to get your meaning.”


  “Well, he also wanted to protest the fact that I married him. It was nothing against you or any of the other guests.”

  “For what it’s worth, I think he’s lucky to have you. There’s a certain sadness about him. He needs someone who can come in and brighten up his life. And I think those curtains will be perfect. They’re such cheerful colors.”

  “You’re not just saying that because Evelyn doesn’t approve?”

  “No. It’s what I really think. I had yellow curtains in my kitchen before my husband died. He liked them, too. Said it made everything sunnier.”

  “That’s what I think of those colors.”

  “Don’t change who you are for her. She has her ideas of what a wife should be, but it’s just her opinion. Think of how boring life would be if we were all the same.”

  Patty bit her lower lip. “That’s true. I’d hate to think of what the world would be like if we were surrounded by a bunch of Evelyns.”

  Jill leaned forward to whisper, “It would be dreadful.”

  “You don’t like her either?”

  “No, I don’t. But I think the world of you. You are just like those yellow curtains. You shouldn’t hide that part of yourself. People like me and Greg need people like you in our lives.”

  “You’re like Greg?”

  “After my husband died, I shut myself off from the rest of the world. I didn’t realize it until I came to the square dance. Sometimes people need to be reminded that it’s alright to laugh again. And sometimes the people who need to laugh the most aren’t even aware of it.”

  “Thank you, Jill.”

  After a moment, Jill asked, “If you decide to have another square dance, will you invite me?”

  “I’d be thrilled to. I’m glad you liked it so much. The ranch hands will be excited.” She hesitated to ask, but since Jill was being forthcoming with everything else, she figured Jill might answer her next question. “Was there a certain ranch hand you enjoyed more than the others?”

  Despite the increased reddening on her face, Jill said, “Archie was sweet.”