Grace (War Brides Book 4)

by Linda Ford

  “Jolly good.”

  He jabbed his knife into the top of a can and pried it open. “Help yourself. Or do you want me to find a fork?”

  “I wouldn’t mind being able to wash up.”

  “Time to try the pump.” He unhooked a pail from the top of the pile and marched toward the iron pump close to the house. After priming it with water they’d carried with them, he got a burst of rusty water that soon gave way to a clear stream.

  Grace plunged her hands into the gush of water. “This is lovely,” she murmured, scooping her hands to her face and sucking in the cool water.

  Billy washed up and drank heartily before the two of them settled down to enjoy a can of beans and share a can of peaches.

  “Tomorrow we’ll get the house ready to move into,” Billy said.

  “Where will we sleep tonight, Luv?”

  “Tonight we will sleep under the stars.” He tilted his head back to study the sky. “Look at that sky.”

  “Very nice. But where will we sleep?”

  He sighed. “How about a mattress on the ground?”

  “It seems wrong.”

  “What would be wrong about it?” Billy sounded displeased.

  “I was never allowed to sleep outside as a child. Father insisted it wasn’t proper. It was so drummed into me, I can’t help wondering if we’d be doing something…” She tried to find words to explain her reluctance. “Well, something improper.”

  “Grace, my dear proper English gal, where do you suppose the settlers slept as they moved into this land? There were no fancy roadhouses, not even a friendly neighbor with a house to share. For that matter, where do you think all the soldiers slept when they took their turn at the trenches? Did you think there was an inn lurking just over the ridge for their convenience?”

  Stung by his sarcasm, she mumbled, “No, of course not. But those were men—soldiers.”

  “The settlers brought wives and daughters with them.” He held up a hand. “And before you entertain the notion they were lower-class folk, think again. Some high and mighty people came west.” His expression softened. “Besides, doesn’t it excite you to spend our first night together here sleeping in the yard? Take a look around you.”

  She did as he said.

  “Do you see any neighbors who would be shocked if they knew?”

  “I guess not.” Now that she let herself think about it, the idea did carry a certain allure. She laughed. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

  “That’s more like it.” He grabbed the mattress. “Help me with this, would you?”

  They carried it to a grassy spot.

  “Do you know where the blankets are?”

  “I do.” She found the right trunk and pulled out an armload, spreading them on the mattress.

  A little later, she lay beside him, staring into the sky.

  “Do you realize,” Billy began, “this is the first time we’ve been on our own since we were married? First, we were with your family. Then there was the trip across the ocean.” He grunted. “You sleeping with the women, and me bunked in a hole with the rest of the men. It was dreadful.”

  “So you’ve said.” She laughed. “About a million times.”

  “What a way for newlyweds to get to know each other.”

  “Then we moved in with your family. Not that I minded. Your mother was so nice.”

  “Just like the mother you never had. I know. You’ve said it about a million times.”

  Grace turned on her side to look at him. “It was hard to say good-bye to her.”

  “I guessed that’s what all those tears meant.”

  She punched his arm playfully. “You’ll never let me forget that, will you?”

  “I guess I should be grateful you chose to come with me rather than stay in Toronto with my family.”

  “We’re married after all.”

  He didn’t answer, and she wondered if he had the same sense of being married to a stranger as she. She lay back beside him. “It will be different.”

  “Different? What? How?”

  “Being on our own. Having to learn to do everything. I know nothing about running a house.” The two-week period after Billy announced they were moving had been consumed with getting ready, leaving her little time to learn all the things she didn’t know.

  “I guess it will be a little different having to eat burnt food,” he teased.

  She chuckled. “Who says it will be burnt? Maybe it will be half cooked.”

  “I guess that would be different too.”

  “Do you think you can put up with me learning at your expense?”

  “I expect I’ll survive.”

  “I hope so.” She longed for assurance, yet she feared if she told Billy how overwhelmed she felt he would laugh at her. Or say it didn’t seem like a big thing to him. As if that somehow should make her feel better.

  His deep breathing beside her warned her he had gone to sleep. The fire still flared. In the dancing golden light, she studied her husband. His black hair gleamed; his fine nose threw a shadow across his face; his well-drawn mouth was soft in sleep. As handsome as ever.

  She felt the deep stirrings she had whenever she allowed herself to examine her feelings for him. He made her feel so needy, so desperately needy. It was a sensation she didn’t know how to handle. It alarmed her. If only he would say again how much he loved her. If only she wasn’t afraid to ask, afraid he would laugh at her fears.

  2

  A blast of light woke Grace. She opened her eyes and turned toward the sun, red and round, rising above the horizon, heralding morning by flinging ribbons of orange and pink across the gray sky. Birds answered the call, hundreds of unseen birds filling the sky with song. Grace lay on her back, eyes closed, listening to the serenade. Never had she heard such a cacophony of sound. Then it settled to a murmur as if the birds had called their morning greeting to their sundry neighbors and now chattered in their own homes in a quieter, more sedate fashion.

  Grace turned toward their house—their house! The idea sang through her. They were finally to have their own home, their own life. Now, she reasoned, she would be treated more as a wife and less as a daughter. She liked the idea.

  In the unforgiving morning light beaming past the low unpainted barn, the house looked more forlorn than it had in yesterday’s softer evening rays. But she smiled. This was their first home. Anxious to make the place liveable, it was all she could do to lay still.

  She knew the minute Billy woke up. His breathing paused, a jolt of energy twitched through his limbs, and he turned over on his back, instantly awake and ready to face the day.

  “Well, it appears we survived our first night.”

  She giggled. “I can’t make out if you’re happy about this or disappointed. Were you hoping the night would be more eventful?”

  “I think I would have slept through most anything.” He stretched and sat up. “What first? Food or tackle the house?”

  Grace’s stomach churned. “Just thinking of having to scour that house makes me feel sick.”

  He jumped up. “I guess I could get a fire going and make some tea.” The flames soon leapt into life. He fashioned a wire across the fire and hung a pot of water to heat.

  Grace lay clutching her stomach, trying to keep the nausea down.

  “We need something besides tea,” Billy mused.

  Grace kept her eyes closed. “We really are a pair of babies, aren’t we? Neither of us knows the slightest thing about some rather essential skills like cooking. I hope we don’t starve to death.”

  “No need to fear.” He rummaged through the supplies. “There’s plenty here. The store man said I had everything I’d need. Here’s flour.” He pointed at a large, cloth-covered sack, then at a smaller one. “And sugar.” He grinned at her. “Know what we can make with that?”

  She shook her head. “Haven’t the foggiest. Any suggestions?”

  “I ‘spect there’s all sorts of things, but don’t ask me. Did you happen t
o bring a cookbook?”

  She sat up so suddenly, her stomach protested. “I never even thought of it. Now what are we going to do?”

  “We’ll muddle through somehow.” He turned back to the box of supplies. “You think we can survive on beans?” He held up two cans.

  Clutching her stomach, she moaned and lay back down. “I don’t think my tummy likes beans. What else do you have?”

  “Lots more beans. The man at the store said they were an essential staple.”

  She groaned.

  “Never mind. We’ll find something else. Ahh. More peaches. We’ll have tea and peaches. How does that sound?”

  She sat up cautiously. “Sounds palatable enough.”

  A few minutes later they shared a pot of tea and a can of peaches.

  “That takes care of breakfast.” Billy tossed the can in the fire and stretched his arms high over his head.

  Normally she found his energy and enthusiasm catching, but this morning she could think of nothing she’d rather do than lie down again. The tea and peaches had done nothing to settle her stomach. Beans definitely did not agree with her. “As soon as we get the stove set up, I’m going to make a proper meal.”

  “Great. What will it be?” His grin was wide and teasing.

  “I think I could scramble some eggs.”

  “Trouble is, we don’t have any. The man at the store suggested we buy some hens so we could have our own supply.”

  Her jaw went slack. “Our own chickens? We’re beginning to sound like farmers.”

  “Too bad it’s too late to put in a garden.”

  Grace stared at him. She had so much to learn.

  Billy filled two buckets at the pump. “I’ll get some water heating. In the meantime, let’s see what needs to be done.”

  She followed him to the house. The smell inside was overpowering, and she clutched her midsection and moaned.

  “What’s wrong?” Billy stared at her.

  “It’s the smell. It makes me feel sick.”

  “Then let’s get rid of it.” He grabbed the broom. “I’ll sweep the floor, then we’ll start scrubbing.”

  She nodded, too nauseated to speak. He swept through once, shoveling out a pile of dirt, then handed her the broom.

  “Give it another going over while I get the water.”

  With one hand she took the broom, pressing the other to her stomach, determined not to let the sick feeling get the best of her. Without a backward glance, Billy hurried outside.

  Grace tackled the floor, relieved to discover work eased her nausea. By the time Billy returned with hot soapy water and rags, she felt a great deal better and had the floor ready to wash.

  Billy stood at the doorway and looked around. “I suppose we should start at the top and work down.” He glanced at her and then around the room. “How ’bout if I wash the top of the walls and you wash the lower part?”

  “Let’s do it.”

  Three hours later they stood back and surveyed their efforts.

  “Not bad,” Billy said.

  “Not bad,” she agreed. The upper walls were dark green, the lower half leathery looking wainscoting that seemed none the worse for the neglect it had endured. After much scraping and scrubbing, the bare boards now looked smooth and clean.

  “Any idea what we will eat?”

  Grace shook her head. “I’m guessing it will be beans and peaches. I suppose if we set up the stove—” Her voice trailed off. “Do you know how to set it up?”

  “About as well as you know how to cook on it, though I was given some rather cryptic instructions.”

  She brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. “We are quite a pair, aren’t we? What’s the expression?”

  “Hardy pioneer stock?”

  She laughed. “More like babes in the woods.” She cocked her head. “Sounds like someone driving by.”

  “Or driving in.”

  “Hello, the house.” A man’s voice echoed through the room.

  Billy leapt out the door, Grace hot on his heels.

  “Name’s Tom Deans,” said the youngish man, jumping down and extending his hand.

  The woman at his side stood, waited a moment for her husband to help her down, then hurried to Grace. “I’m Nellie. We’re your neighbors.”

  “That’s our place right over there.” Tom pointed. “Two miles due north.” He lifted a box from the back of the wagon.

  “We thought you would be busy getting moved in,” Nellie explained. “So we brought over dinner.”

  The smells flooded Grace’s mouth with saliva. “How nice,” she said. “We were just wondering if we would have to eat another can of beans.”

  “We haven’t got the stove set up yet.” Billy chuckled. “Guess you can see that for yourself.”

  “You’ll be needing a hand with that,” Tom said quietly.

  “First, we eat. We could use the table out here or—” Nellie smiled gently at Grace. “We could set it up inside. What would you prefer?”

  “After all the work we’ve done getting the kitchen clean, I’d like to eat inside. That is,” Grace added, growing doubtful, “if the smell from the other room isn’t too overpowering.”

  “We’ll ignore it.” Billy said, already taking one corner of the table. Tom took the opposite side.

  Grace grabbed a chair and followed.

  “This is wonderful,” Grace announced a few minutes later as she dug into the stew Nellie had brought. She took a bite of the fresh bread. “I doubt I’ll be able to do anything like this.”

  “Don’t you know how to cook?” Nellie’s voice was soft.

  “Not to save my life.”

  Tom chuckled. “This ought to be quite an adventure.” He grinned at Billy. “Think you’ll survive?”

  Grace liked Tom immediately with his rolling laugh and dancing blue eyes. He and Nellie were as opposite as day and night: she, pretty and dark, petite, and quiet; he, blond, big, blunt featured, and a little boisterous. She darted a glance at her own husband, contrasting his dark hair and fine features with Tom’s bluntness. Billy was handsome to the extreme.

  “I’d be pleased to help you learn how to cook,” Nellie offered.

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  “I hear you’re one of them there flying aces.” A hint of awe made Tom’s voice deep.

  “I flew in the war alright.”

  “And you managed to return home unscathed?”

  Billy shook his head. “I sport a few scars. In fact that’s how I met Grace.”

  Nellie leaned forward, her face alight. “How exciting. Do tell us.”

  Billy shrugged and looked at Grace. “Go ahead.”

  “My sister was a nurse in a convalescent hospital in our town. She worked long hours there, leaving me on my own. It was very boring.” Grace sighed. “I was supposed to stay away from the hospital.”

  Billy interrupted. “She was only sixteen. Her father thought she should be spared the horrors she would see there.”

  Grace nodded. “In my boredom, I would sometimes slip up the hill and wander around. Sometimes I would talk to the soldiers sitting out in the garden.” She grimaced. “I avoided the ones who were burned.”

  “Good thing I wasn’t burned,” Billy muttered.

  “Anyway, I was crossing the lawn when I saw this soldier drop his crutches. He had one leg swaddled in bandages, and I figured he had dropped them accidentally so I hurried over to retrieve them for him.”

  “I was trying to walk on my leg so I could go back to flying.”

  “And when I bent to pick up the crutches, he collapsed on top of me.” She laughed. “I always say he literally fell for me.”

  “How romantic.” Nellie’s eyes had grown wide. “And you got married right away before he went back to active duty?”

  Billy chuckled. “Not exactly. Her father about had a fit when he found out we wanted to get married. He didn’t mind her bringing home a young Canadian soldier for tea. It was the patriotic thing to
do, you know, to entertain the Canadians. But at the thought of marriage—” He shrugged. “I guess I couldn’t blame him. Grace was so young. Life was so uncertain. Anyway, he made us promise to wait.”

  Grace nodded. “We got married after the war ended.”

  Nellie sighed. “I still think it’s romantic. A war bride.”

  Back east, Grace had quickly learned not everyone welcomed English war brides, feeling they had stolen more than their share of eligible young men.

  “And I love your accent.”

  Grace smiled. “Thank you.” Apparently Nellie had no problem with accepting Grace. “How about you two. How did you meet?”

  Nellie shrugged. “Nothing very exciting, I’m afraid. Our families lived on neighboring farms.” Her gaze softened as it rested on Tom. “We’ve known each other most of our lives.”

  “There’s something special about that too.” In a way Grace envied Nellie. She would never have that sense of strangeness with Tom that Grace so often experienced with Billy.

  Tom pushed back from the table. “We intend to spend the afternoon helping you get moved in.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Grace demurred, even as she welcomed the idea.

  “Of course it’s not, but we want to,” Tom said in his blunt way.

  “That’s right,” Nellie added. “What do you want to do first, Grace? Move in the kitchen things or finish scrubbing down the house?”

  “I’d like more than anything to get rid of the smell.”

  Nellie nodded. “Then we’ll finish scrubbing first.”

  With four of them tackling the rooms, the work went amazingly fast, and the front room and two small upstairs bedrooms were soon as clean as the kitchen.

  “I’ll help you get that stove set up now.” Tom headed for the door as he spoke.

  Billy sprang after him.

  “I could help you unpack dishes or whatever,” Nellie offered.

  “You quite sure you don’t mind?”

  “Not at all. I’m enjoying the company.” They headed after the men. Grace selected several boxes that the women carried to the house. A row of shelves plus the cupboard Billy’s parents had shipped out waited for the dishes and cooking supplies.

  “Not that Tom isn’t good company,” Nellie explained. “Only sometimes I wish for a woman to talk to.”