Jessy had refused to allow her to buy a few new articles of clothing, stating it was a waste of precious money. Apparently though that thought had obviously not crossed her mind when she bought a small hat with ostrich plumes on it that very morning for an exorbitant amount of money. Bianca was instead left to mend some of her old and torn petticoats by the light of a candle.
She now regretted putting off buying new clothes when May had told her to. At that time, what she had suited her just fine. But Bianca found herself wanting to look a little nicer for when she met her new husband to be in the hopes that this match which started out as a business transaction would become much more. She found some old clothes in May’s trunk which fit her and decided to take it because if it was altered properly, it would look almost newly fashionable.
Friday came and Jessy and Gerald loaded Bianca onto the train with as much tender loving care as they would show a sack of potatoes. Luckily some of the neighbors and friends were there on hand and treated her much more caringly. They wished her all the best and stuffed her hands with as much tiny packages of food as she could carry. Bianca hugged everyone, even Ms. Casey, with genuine warmth. She was really going to miss them. When the whistle blew the warning signal, Bianca boarded the train with a little anxiety in her heart. She knew she was saying good-bye to her girlhood for the last time. It was time to face the new chapter in her life.
Two weeks later, Bianca arrived in Louisiana. She had altered the last of her mother’s dresses the day before on the train and now sat in the soft pink crinoline gown waiting for the train to come to a stop. As passengers got off the train, she took the time to look around at the little depot and the people milling about. Some were shopping in the stores, men were coming out of saloons with bottles and pipes in hand. There was a tiny white dog yapping after the heels of a little girl who was trailing behind her parents sipping on the new novelty, ice cones. As she took in the sights and sounds, her eyes came to rest on a man standing at the docking station looking over every woman that came off the train.
Jonah Cassidy.
My, he is handsome. I rather like that stubble on his jaw, makes him look manlier somehow.
He had broad shoulders and powerful legs. When he paced around the dock his legs ate up the breadth of it in long easy strides. His face was all angular lines and harsh planes, as if he didn’t smile much, but there was still a beauty to it she could not describe. With a deep breath, Bianca got up and walked off the train. Jonah saw her almost immediately. She nodded to him as he came her way.
“Madam Bianca?” he asked. When she nodded again, he let out a breath of air and held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you ma’am. Thank you for answering my ad. I am glad you are finally here.”
Bianca smiled at him and greeted him in kind.
Well at least he is nice. Thank you, Jesus!
He showed her to his carriage and then went back to the ticket master to collect her bags. After they were loaded on the back of the cart, he climbed in beside her. With his powerful frame next to her and his strangely unique scent surrounding her, Bianca suddenly found it quite difficult to breathe.
In through the nose and out through the mouth, Bianca, it’s not that hard.
As he drove, Jonah pointed out the sights around town. The low rumble of his voice made her tingle all over and she couldn’t fully focus on what he was saying.
Jonah, for his part was also having difficulty talking. Or rather, shutting up. He was usually not one to ramble but he couldn’t seem to help himself around Bianca. She was beautiful, not at all what he expected. He had seen other mail-order brides and they were usually women, at least in these parts, who could not get a man any other way.
She’s just another pretty face, Old Man. Calm down. You don’t need to go around being attracted to her. She’s just supposed to be a wife, someone to help you around the house, nothing more, and nothing less. Keep it professional. Yes. Professional.
When Jonah’s voice trailed off into silence, Bianca heaved a silent sigh of relief. At least now she only had to focus on breathing and not also on responding to what the man was saying! But honestly, she was grateful she was attracted to him, maybe there was an opportunity to make this into a real marriage, based on friendship, at least, if not love.
They went straight to the church where they were seen by the local reverend. Before she could really take it in, she was repeating her vows to a total stranger and he to her. Then it was done. They were married. She was a wife. She had expected it, of course. Mr. Renault had explained to her that they would be married the same day she arrived (after all, a single man and a single woman cannot live together without a chaperone). Still, she had hoped for a little more something. She wasn’t sure what, exactly.
On the drive home, she realized that Jonah might expect to consummate their vows that very night. Bianca began to panic inwardly. No one had told her what to expect on her wedding night. She had completely forgotten to ask about it.
Not that Jessy would have helped but maybe I could have asked Ms. Casey or something!
When they arrived at Jonah’s sprawling ranch a little while later, Bianca was stiff with worry and fear. She had no idea what she was to do. Jonah helped her out of the coach and she waited patiently as he took down her bags and trunk. But instead of heading to the front door, he walked around the house altogether. Curious, Bianca followed him. When he headed for a little cottage behind the main house, she was even more confused.
Jonah set Bianca’s bags down on the porch and opened the door before carrying everything in. When he emerged from the bed room, he handed Bianca the key and showed her where the kitchen and the connected outhouse were. He lad her through the dining nook and past what appeared to be a study, to the bedroom he had just emerged from a few minutes earlier. When he ascertained that she was comfortable with her surroundings, he told her that if she needed anything, she could find him on the grounds or in the main house.
“But,” she stammered, “Aren’t you going to stay here with me?”
“No, ma’am. I will be in my house. This cottage is for you.”
“Forgive me, but I am confused. Why are we living separately? I thought the point of getting married today was to live together in proper manner.”
“Did the agent not explain to you why I needed a wife, Ms. Bianca?”
Dumbly, she just shook her head.
Jonah sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. I should have expected that I guess. A pretty thing like this probably has her heart set on love and a fantasy.
“Darling, I don’t need a wife to be a wife. What I really need is a cook and housekeeper, to put it to you straight. We are married officially to give the proper appearance to everyone. I don’t want someone temporary because they all leave way too soon. The best answer for me was to find a wife.”
“Oh,” Bianca said softly. “Mr. Renault only mentioned that you needed a wife, nothing more than that. Thank you for making the situation clear. And thank you for the separate living quarters, in that case. I am sure we can make out alright now that I know what you expect from me.”
Jonah stood staring at her uncertainly. Her words had a kind of forced politeness about them. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had damaged something that was very valuable indeed. He shook his head. I told her what I need. She knows. She’s agreed. Nothing more to do.
Feeling like a cad, Jonah wished Bianca a good night and left her on the porch. Before he made his way down the stairs completely, he turned to let her know that the cows would be milked by five in the morning and he would need breakfast by six so that he could be on the field by seven. Bianca inclined her head in a show of understanding before quietly shutting the door.
As she lay in bed that night, Bianca finally let out the tears that she had held back for so long, since the day she saw her parents’ and Betty’s body on the ground that evening.
When she turned to the side, she saw her father’s Bible on the top of the gar
ments in her trunk. She got out of bed and opened it. It was bookmarked at Psalm 31. Her father had underlined verses 23 and 24. Silently she read and re-read the passage.
“Love the LORD, all you his saints! The LORD preserves the faithful but abundantly repays the one who acts in pride. Be strong, and let your heart take courage, all you who wait for the LORD!”
A strange calm filled her mind and Bianca began to pray. She poured out her hurt and fear to the Lord, her pain at the death of her family. The helplessness she felt in a new land surrounded by no one she knew. The death of the small hope that she could have a marriage filled with love. Finally, she asked him to lead her and give her strength to get through each day and to carve a life for herself with the man who was her unwilling husband.
The next morning, Bianca woke with the rooster’s crow and made her way to the great house after performing her morning rituals. When she arrived, the back entry kitchen door was open. She took a quick glance around the areas of the house she could see, and was pleased by the simple elegance of it. Jonah was clearly a man of means though her family was probably far wealthier (in the end) than he had ever been. That was okay with Bianca. She preferred the humbleness her parents had modeled to the blatant pride her relatives had affected.
In the kitchen she found the pail of fresh milk and eggs. She set the milk to boil and rummaged the pantry for flour and yeast. When she found it, she set about making bread and set it aside to rise. She found a slab of salted pigs’ belly in the larder and cut off some strips of the bacon and set it on a cast iron pan to fry. Then she cooked up some eggs and pancakes and roasted some dried coffee beans over an open flame. Once the beans were glistening with their oils, she ground them finely in the hand mill and strained water through them. In the cool box, she found what was left of butter and cream and set that out on the table with the coffee, milk and the rest of the meal. She took some of the milk and curdled it with a bit of lemon juice to separate the curds and whey for butter and cheese.
Jonah came into the kitchen with more stubble than he had sported the previous day and hair that was still glistening from his morning bath. He grinned at her and appreciatively smelled the scent of the breakfast she had put together.
“This looks wonderful, Bianca. I thank you. I’ve had to eat with the chuck wagon cook the last couple weeks since my last housekeeper left and the food – and I say that generously – tends to sit in your stomach like a rock.”
Bianca, ignoring the remark about the “last housekeeper”, laughed and encouraged him to sit down and eat. Jonah took his plate to the kitchen but brought it back loaded with food. He pulled a stool from the counter as well and sat down in the kitchen.
When Bianca looked at him questioningly, he simply replied, “I’ll keep you company” before beginning to eat.
Jonah shook his head as he ate. I’ll keep you company? Since when do you ever keep the housekeepers’ company? But he knew why he had changed his habits that morning. It had everything to do with the petite blonde who had danced around his mind all night long. My wife. God, she’s beautiful. And desirable. I wonder what it would be like to taste those sweet lips she keeps biting. Whoa boy. Back away. She is just your housekeeper. Nothing more than that. You do not want a wife in the real sense of the word. A housekeeper. Even a companion. Not. A. Wife.
Jonah hurriedly jumped up and swallowed his coffee in a huge gulp that burned the roof of his mouth. “Sorry, I, uh, I just realized that I am running late this morning.” So saying, Jonah ran out of the house.
Bianca stared at him in shock. The clock read 6:15. He had told her he didn’t need to be in the field till 7. Bianca just shook her head wryly. I guess I have a lot to learn about men. My but they are strange creatures. At the station he was so nice. Then at the house he was so cold. Now I could swear that he was watching me in that way men do when they like how a woman looks but then he just ran out. Now Bianca, don’t you go getting your hopes up. He made his wishes very clear. He only wants a housekeeper.
Over the next several weeks, Jonah sat with Bianca in the kitchen but didn’t talk much. He just watched her work. One morning, Bianca came into the kitchen to find that the milk and eggs which were usually waiting on her were absent. She grabbed a basket and went to gather the eggs from the chicken coup. On her way back, she passed the outhouse shower and was stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of a strongly muscled back and rippling arms.
Jonah.
He was wearing only a rough pair of worn jeans. His shirt was hanging on a tack nearby and he was washing his arms and face in the trough. He moved to grab a towel that was hanging near his shirt when he caught sight of pink lace out of the corner of his eye. Turning around, he paused in the action of wiping the water from his face when he saw Bianca watching him. Her eyes were rounded and her lips were parted. She was carrying a basket of eggs under one arm. The rising sun painted her in a soft glow and she had never looked so fetching.
He slowly walked to her, drinking in the sight of her slim body, modeled very attractively by the gown that seemed made just for her curves. He stopped inches in front of her and waited for her eyes to rise from his chest to his face. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and his own mouth suddenly felt very dry. His hand reached out and caught hold of the long braid that hung loosely over one shoulder.
“I have been thinking about doing this for a while,” he whispered roughly as he leaned down. Slowly, gently, he brushed his lips over hers. He felt, rather than heard, her swift intake of breath against his chest. He did it again. Her lips opened ever so slightly and he nipped at the fullness of the bottom one before dabbing it lightly with his tongue. He saw her eyes flutter closed and she leaned against him more fully. He wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her closer. He pressed his lips against hers even more until she opened to him. His tongue swept inside and she trembled. His own breathing was becoming choppier by the second. He pressed his other hand behind her head to draw her in even more when something sharp pierced his abdomen and he jerked away from her.
It took him a minute to comprehend that it was the basket that had poked him. When Jonah looked up at Bianca, her face was flushed and her breath was coming out in soft gasps. She was looking at him in a dazed manner. As if she couldn’t quite comprehend where she was.
As he continued to watch her, it hit him exactly what he had done and he became upset with himself at his lack of control.
“What are you doing out here?” He asked harshly. “Acting like a common trollop where anyone can see you? I told you that I only needed a house keeper, did I not? Next time stay in the house where you belong! And don’t bandy yourself about where any man can see you.”
“Ex-excuse me?!” Bianca stammered. “I came out here to get some eggs. I didn’t say a word to you. And what do you mean, ‘common trollop’? You, husband, kissed me. You, approached me. You, touched me. How dare you accuse me of behaving like a tart when you are the one who initiated the kiss out in broad daylight?”
Bianca tossed her braid over her shoulder, hoisted the basket higher and flounced off. Jonah stared after her in bemusement. She has a temper? Where did that come from? She’s been as quiet as a church mouse all this time.
Jonah ran his fingers through his hair. She was right, he had advanced on her. He was the one who had set the boundary and broken it too. He knew why he was so upset and it had nothing to do with Bianca and everything to do with himself.
He had grown up watching his Father drink away his life and his money. Frank would come home and beat his wife, every night. And Jane took it to protect her son. By the time he was fifteen, Jonah was bigger than Frank and his mom was still trying to protect him but Jonah was done. One night, on Jonah’s sixteenth birthday, when Frank came home, Jonah was waiting for him on the porch with gun in hand.
As usual, Frank hollered for Jane to meet him outside and Jane went to him. Neither of them saw Jonah. Without ceremony, the man raised his fist to strike his wife; it was like
an obsessive routine for him. He didn’t need a reason; he didn’t need a cause. If Jane begged, Frank loved it even more. So Jane always stayed silent. And Frank became increasingly violent trying to make her cry out. Without preliminary he would start with her face. When she was down he would kick her in the abdomen, when he was dissatisfied with that, he would use his walking stick on her legs and feet and arms.
This time though, the second the man raised his fist, Jonah took aim and fired a warning shot just over his head. Frank froze. In his drunken state, he didn’t fully comprehend what the loud noise had been but Jane knew. She turned to Jonah and pleaded with him to stop and go inside. Jonah refused. Frank, when he heard Jane begging Jonah, turned her forcibly around to face him instead.
“Beg for your son, will you?” Frank sneered. “But you won’t beg for me? Think you are too good for me? Think you can protect that boy from me?”
Jane didn’t answer him. She knew any answer she gave would only result in more blows for her.
Frank back-handed her without warning.
Jonah let off another warning shot, this time deliberately shattering the bottle of beer Frank held in his hand. He stepped out of the shadows onto the candle-illuminated porch steps.
“I am warning you, Frank” he said – he did not have respect enough for the man to call him father. “Touch her one more time and it will be the last thing you ever do.”
“You’d kill your own Papa boy? For a worthless woman?”
Jonah seethed with anger. “You’re not my Papa, not anymore and Mama is worth ten times what you are. You have two choices. You can leave and not come back or you can try to strike her again and I will kill you.”
Frank, even in his drunken stupor knew enough to realize Jonah was dead serious and was not fool enough to risk his life. After long minutes he backed away and turned on his heel.
But that was not the last Jonah heard of Frank.
With Frank gone, Jonah was free to take on the reins of the ranch in his own hands. He had been doing it already for over two years but everything had been overshadowed by Frank’s presence. The townspeople knew what kind of man Frank was and what he did to Jane and Jonah but they feared his temper too much to interfere directly. Whenever Jane was too sick and battered to take care of the home or to even cook, the women took turns helping her out. The men took Jonah under their wings and taught him the ropes about running his own ranch.
[2016] Widow Finds Love Page 4
