“I’m so sorry. I lost Dexter and Terrance. I can’t bear the thought of losing you too.”
Joel wanted to say that her disapproval of Tilde’s plans and needs were driving her daughter away. Instead he kept his mouth full of the delicious rolls.
“You aren’t losing me, Mother. I love you and want to stay close like we were before. But now I have a husband and he needs to be included in your life if you want me in yours.”
Mabel released Tilde’s hand, pulling hers back and dropping it into her lap, hiding it from view. Joel thought she might be clenching them together. She definitely didn’t look pleased with Tilde’s words.
The green eyes, so large in his wife’s face, looked at him, pleading for him to say something. He didn’t know what would help the situation. He sent up a quick prayer for the right words.
“Mrs. Lasek, I’m not trying to take your daughter away from you. I came to Silverpines to marry her in order to help her as a bookkeeper. I think the Lord brought me here to facilitate Tilde in keeping the bank profitable and able to support you both. The tragedy that took so many men, including your husband and son, needn’t cause you to lose your business, too.
“That aside, I promise to be a good, God-fearing husband to your daughter. I want to be an asset to you, also. I know there is no way I can replace those you’ve lost. I hope I can be a comfort to you and give you security knowing that Tilde is treated well. She deserves no less than a faithful, committed husband, and I will do my best to be that man for her.”
Mabel looked between them again. She swallowed, then took a deep breath. “Are you going to find a house to live in? Are you going to leave me here in this huge house all alone?”
Joel looked at Tilde.
“We haven’t discussed it, Mother. We can’t stay at the inn forever. We will have to decide on some place rather soon.”
“Would you… I know I haven’t been very welcoming or supportive.” She looked at Joel. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to consider it, but if you would like to live here, I will do all I can to make you welcome. I do believe the house is large enough for all of us.”
Joel shot a glance at Tilde. There was doubt and hope on her face. “We will give your offer serious consideration. It is something we need to discuss between the two of us.”
That they hadn’t immediately jumped at the offer showed as disappointment in Mabel’s face and the slight slump of her shoulders.
“We’ll talk and pray about it tonight and no doubt tomorrow, Mother. Shall we come for supper tomorrow?”
“Yes, of course, please do.” Rather than the derision and disappointment in her tone there was resignation tempered with a small dose of hope.
“I can’t promise we will have made a decision by then,” Tilde said.
That tiny bit of hope dimmed in Mabel’s eyes. Tilde’s caution was merited, Joel thought. It would be a total turn around for Mrs. Lasek to be welcoming to him living in her house with her daughter. He figured it would take quite a bit of prayer by everyone, including Dara, to know what the best thing was for him and Tilde to do.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It took Tilde and Joel four more days before they agreed to move into Lasek House. They decided the day after that first supper to move in but chose not to let Mabel know for a few days. The extra days were to give them time to get to know each other better without outside influences, be they Tilde’s mother or Dara. Once they moved their privacy would be limited to their bedroom.
Each evening they went for supper. The tension was less but not gone all together. Both Tilde and Joel appreciated the effort Mabel was making to be welcoming and get to know him. That her questions sometimes sounded more like an inquisition than polite conversation he pushed aside, answering openly.
Joel could tell that Mabel dearly loved Tilde. He was beginning to see that she was similar in personality to Mrs. Taylor back in Cottonwood. He was experienced with strong-minded, intense women. It didn’t take much to please them, even though many would disagree. They were insecure and needed to be listened to and their thoughts and feelings acknowledged. By doing so, they were happy or at least satisfied they’d been heard. He was going to do that as much as his ability and patience allowed.
Hearing the bank door open, Joel looked out the office door. He’d moved the desk so he could see most of the bank when he was sitting at it. Tilde had insisted he take over as president. He’d been reluctant to do so but as he’d watched over the few days he’d been there, it was clear many of the men and some of the women who came didn’t consider Tilde’s thoughts and comments to be taken seriously. He had to admit she was timid when doing more than telling, even though her instincts and knowledge were sound.
Seeing that it was Sarah Dekum, owner of the gun shop, he focused back on the ledger before him. Sarah had lost her father in the disaster and married Mason Dekum back in early June. She was no threat to his wife.
That Tilde was his wife was cemented into his being, even though they had only been married a few days. It wasn’t love yet, but he thought that could come. Sleeping next to her each night was more than pleasant. He hoped that they could progress to more intimacy soon.
Then again, maybe he should press it a little since tomorrow they were moving to Lasek House. It would be Saturday and the bank closed at noon. They would be able to settle into whatever room Mrs. Lasek decided. Tilde hoped she would give them the master bedroom, but Joel thought that was unlikely. It would take more time for her to give up the room she’d spent so many years in. It would also relinquish her role as mistress of the house.
He glanced up, looking at Tilde as she completed her transaction and said goodbye to Mrs. Dekum. The profile of his wife made him swallow. She was so beautiful. Hair a dark auburn that was swept up in loops and swirls, he had no idea how she kept it in place. He knew it framed her heart-shaped face, set off by a long graceful neck. His fingers fidgeted to stroke her cheek, the color of her skin reminding him of a pale pink rose in his mother’s garden. Even her blushes were simply a darker variation.
Then there were her eyes, deep forest green reminding him of the pine forests he rode through on the train. Large and wide open, they were rimmed with lashes the color of her hair as were her arched eyebrows. Her smiles lit them up and her laughter caused them to sparkle. Joel had noticed that Tilde had her mother’s eyes, though her hair color must have come from her father. Mabel’s hair was light brown.
Joel let his gaze slip to her figure. He swallowed again. She was definitely a woman. Curves in all the right places. He knew her shape wasn’t due to tight lacing of her corset. None of her curves were padded either.
And she was soft. Though they went to sleep on their separate sides of the bed, by morning her back was snuggled against his chest, his arm around her waist. The first two mornings she jumped away from him when she woke. Now, she’d wiggle just a little bit closer before she let him know she was awake. He was always awake a little earlier and enjoyed simply holding her.
Yes, he would see if she was ready to move into the more physical aspects of their marriage.
~~~~~
Tilde went back to her desk as Sarah closed the door behind her. She glanced up as she sat and saw Joel looking at her. There was a look on his face that brought a blush to hers. He was so attractive both in form and personality. At the moment it was his form she was drawn to.
Slightly above average height, he was lean but muscular. He’d told her he did calisthenics several times a week. He planned on getting dumbbells as he’d left his behind for his brothers to use.
Dark brown hair parted slightly off center matched his facial hair. Tilde wondered if the mustache and beard would tickle if she kissed him. The thought made her blush which caused Joel’s eyebrow to rise. Drat her blushes. That eyebrow was so very expressive.
With hair as dark as it was she would have thought he’d have brown eyes. Instead they were so light a gray they were silver. A circle of nearly black rimmed
the iris. Tilde wondered if they would darken to stormy when he became angry.
With her face heating, she sat quickly and focused on adding up the column of numbers before her. She’d already added it twice. The standard set by her father was do each calculation six times or until you got six sums the same. After not getting the same total at all, she quit with a frustrated growl. It was almost time to close the bank. She’d balance the drawer and attempt this stupid column of numbers tomorrow.
While she was counting the cash, Joel came up behind her, making her fingers fumble. Something funny was going on in her insides. She didn’t quite know what it was but she had a feeling she knew.
They were getting along very well. Getting to know each other. Liking each other. At least she liked him and thought he liked her. How long did one have to wait when one was married to begin… well… that aspect of marriage?
Tomorrow they were moving into Lasek House. Her mother and Dara lived there. Tilde wasn’t sure how much privacy they would have. Would her mother enter their room without knocking? At times in the past she had. That wouldn’t be welcome by Joel, she was pretty sure. Tilde didn’t think she’d like it much either. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. She was a woman. A married woman. She wanted to be treated like one. In all ways, she realized, and heat rose up her neck.
“Are you finished?” Joel asked, close behind her shoulder.
“Yes, it balances.” Tilde was glad her voice didn’t tremble in response to his nearness.
“I’ll put it in the safe and lock it. Get your mantle and hat. We’ll head to the inn.” Joel took the drawer, doing as he’d said.
Normally, they stayed later, but Tilde agreed that they didn’t need to today. She wanted to think it was because they needed to pack, but she had taken her things back to the house each day. Joel kept his things neatly in the one trunk he’d opened. There really wasn’t much to pack.
“I’m, um, glad we decided to have supper at the inn. A last night to ourselves before we move home.” Tilde pinned her hat in place. Joel took the mantle from its hook on the hall tree and draped it around her shoulders. He left his hands on her shoulders a few moments longer than necessary. Tilde could feel another blush beginning.
“I am too. The last night of our honeymoon.”
Tilde suppressed a quiver. She didn’t want him to know how his touch and words affected her. She looked down, drawing her gloves on.
Joel’s hands gripped her shoulders again, turning her to face him. Fingers touched her chin, tilting her head back so she could see his face. His eyes, those silver eyes, told her his thoughts mirrored hers. She wanted him to kiss her. Wanted him to want her.
Slowly, his head lowered, as did Tilde’s eyelids. The bristles of his mustache and beard tickled just before his lips touched hers. At first, the kiss was soft, slow as if waiting for her to pull back. When she didn’t, his lips firmed on hers. His arm slipped around her, drawing her against him. Even through her garments she could feel his chest was solid, strong.
Tilde knew he used an aftershave but hadn’t been this close to truly smell it. Sandalwood and cinnamon encircled her, welcoming her into his embrace. She lifted her arms to his back, spreading her fingers to maximize her touch.
Joel eased back, again softening the kiss. Two, then three small kisses brushed her lips. She opened her eyes and saw in his exactly what she desired. That tonight be a true honeymoon.
~~~~~
Tilde and Joel laughed as they entered the inn lobby. Halfway between the bank and the inn the rain that had been held in the gray clouds all day broke loose, drenching them as they ran along the boardwalk.
“We should have brought the umbrella with us,” Tilde said as she shook wetness from her mantle.
The small hat she wore gave little protection and her hair was dripping and sagging, locks slipping from the pins. Joel couldn’t resist. He plucked one from her cheek, twirling it around his finger. “And miss seeing you with your hair drenched and falling around your face. Never.” He grinned mischievously. She laughed as she batted his hand away.
Ella Grace Karson, wife of the inn’s owner, came around the desk. “Oh my, you did get caught in it, didn’t you? Would you like baths drawn?”
“No, thank you, Mrs. Karson. But some extra towels would be appreciated,” Joel gave her a slight bow as he and Tilde crossed the lobby. Tilde gave her friend a smile and a wave.
“Of course. I’ll bring them right up.”
Tilde ran up the stairs holding her skirts high. Joel watched her hips sway and hurried after her. He hoped it wouldn’t take long for the towels to be delivered.
Laughing as she bounced on her toes, Tilde waited as he dug in his pocket for the key. “You could have had that out so I could start getting out of these wet things sooner.”
The memory of her standing in her corset made his fingers fumble so he dropped the key. If things went the way he hoped, there would be new memories of her out of those wet things.
Finally getting the door unlocked, Joel stood in front of it. At Tilde’s puzzled look, he swept her up in his arms. “In honor of our last night here, I’m carrying you over the threshold.” That wasn’t his entire reason but he didn’t want Tilde to get shy by saying more. Her smile and the arm looped around his neck encouraged him that the afternoon might end the way he hoped.
“Aren’t you going to put me down?” Tilde asked as he strode through the sitting room.
“Not yet.” Joel gave her a quick kiss. Not paying quite enough attention, he knocked her feet on the door frame as he entered the bedroom. “Oops, sorry.”
Tilde laughed. “No harm done.”
He set her on her feet and began unhooking the frog closings of her mantle. The maroon velvet was wet and the satin frogs slipped as he worked to release them.
“I can do it,” Tilde said.
“You work on your hat.” Joel succeeded in removing her mantle and waited for her to unpin her hat. “I’ll hang these in the sitting room. You start on your hair.” He handed her a towel. “Dry it as best you can. I don’t want you taking ill because of it.”
“Yes, sir.” Tilde saluted as she handed him her hat.
A knock sounded on the door as Joel hung his coat beside Tilde’s mantle and hat. Ella Grace stood there with a pile of white terrycloth towels when he opened it.
“This should be enough to dry you both off. If you need more don’t hesitate to ask.” She winked at him as she turned to leave.
“Thank you.” Joel closed and locked the door. He hesitated a moment before he crossed to the bedroom. Until now he’d always changed in the sitting room. He wanted to do so in the bedroom. He wanted to help Tilde out of her wet things. Wanted to remove his own. Deciding she could kick him out if she wanted, he carried the towels and entered the bedroom.
Tilde was sitting in front of the dresser looking into the attached mirror. Some locks of her hair were hanging down while others were still pinned somewhat in place. He came up behind her and set the towels down.
Her eyes met his in the mirror. The pupils were dilated. He read excitement, longing, uncertainty, and some trepidation in them.
She pulled another pin, allowing the damp lock to join the others. Joel picked it up, never taking his eyes from hers. “Your hair is beautiful. Even wet, it’s soft.”
“Thank you.”
“Let me help.” Joel found a pin and pulled it. Another lock fell. She took the pin from his fingers and placed it in a bowl on the dresser. He pulled another. Their eyes stayed locked. Every movement was done instinctively.
When the last lock lay on her shoulders, Joel took a towel and wrapped her hair, squeezing the dampness from it. As he massaged the towel over her scalp, Tilde’s eyes fluttered shut. A blush lit her cheeks.
Joel abandoned her hair and pulled her to him, his arms encircling her shoulders. “Tilde, this is our last night here.” Her eyes opened and found his in the mirror again. She turned in his arms.
“Yes, plea
se,” she answered his unasked question.
Joel did his best to keep the deepness of his kiss from scaring her. When her arms came around him, her hands burying themselves in his hair, he released his pent-up desires and allowed his to match what he felt coming from her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Have you got that totaled yet?”
Tilde looked up at Joel and stuck out her tongue. “Here, you do it. I’ve been busy all morning, just like every Saturday. People get paid on Friday and come to the bank on Saturday.” She shoved the ledger toward him as he stood beside her.
Joel leaned down and whispered in her ear. “You haven’t been distracted by our last night at the inn, have you?” When she blushed and smacked his arm, he laughed.
“Just go away and let me add.”
“We could purchase a couple of adding machines. It makes things much easier. You just punch the numbers, pull the lever, and it adds it up. There’s a paper tape which records it all, so you have a record of what you put in.”
“I don’t know. We’ve always done it this way. It works.”
The door opened and three men in plaid flannel shirts came in.
“Hello, Mr. Bunyan. Well, all three Mr. Bunyans.” Tilde started to rise from her seat, but Joel laid a hand on her shoulder.
“You stay here and get that sum finished. I’ll tend to the Mr. Bunyans.” Joel went to the teller window. “I’m Joel Richards, new husband to Tilde here. I’ll be working here at the bank. How may I help you?”
The men studied Joel for several long seconds. “You’ll do, I guess,” the one in front said. “I’m Paul, this is Peter and that’s James. We work at the lumber mill. Got the saw working again. Got paid yesterday so we thought we’d get us some bank accounts to put the money in.”
“I can help you with that. Rather than do it here, let’s go into my office. You can all do the paperwork at the same time.” Joel took three bank books from a drawer and smiled at Tilde as they passed her desk.
Wanted: Bookkeeper (Silverpines Series Book 14) Page 5
