Ollie was mucking out the stalls when Anna walked through the open door of the barn. He leaned the crook of his arm on the handle of the pitchfork and pulled a bandanna from the back pocket of his denim trousers to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “Hi, Sis, what’re you doing here?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” As soon as the words slipped between her lips, Anna was sorry that her voice sounded so sharp. She was able to soften it when she continued. “I’m going for a ride.”
Ollie smiled as he pushed the hanky back into his pocket and leaned the pitchfork against the stall door. “Do you want me to saddle your horse for you?”
“I have been saddling my own horse since I was nine years old. I haven’t forgotten how.” This time she was able to force a more teasing tone into her words.
Ollie picked up the pitchfork and thrust the tines under a mound of soiled straw. “Okay. I was just trying to help.”
Anna led her mare out of the stall and placed the saddle blanket on her back. When she lifted the saddle to the back of the horse, the creak of the leather was comforting. Comforting and familiar.
“I know you were. Thanks for caring.” She gave Ollie the best smile she could muster. She hoped it was enough to keep him from worrying about her.
After leading Buttermilk out into the sunshine, she mounted and turned the horse away from the house. At first, Anna rode at a slow pace, but soon she and the mare flew across the prairie. This had been one of her favorite pastimes since she was old enough to ride alone. She always thought it was the closest to flying a person could ever get. The wind tugged tendrils of hair from the scarf where she had tied it at the nape of her neck. She turned her face in the wind, trying to keep the hair from blowing in her eyes.
Almost before she realized it, Buttermilk turned toward a copse of trees by a gentle stream. They had ridden this way many times before. Had she subconsciously given the horse signals that brought them to this place, or had Buttermilk come here out of habit?
Now, nearly empty branches swayed in the gentle breeze, and leaves covered the ground. Anna and Olaf had often met here. They had seen all the seasons of the year pass by. Anna loved spring with the new green leaves brushing the sky with promise. In summer, the trees had given welcome shade from the hot sun. Even when snow covered the ground and ice outlined the branches, Anna loved this place. But autumn was her least favorite season. In her mind, it symbolized death—the ending of the wonderful life of summer. How appropriate that it was autumn, for death had come into her life, in more ways than one.
In spring and summer, Anna and Olaf usually sat on a large rock beside the stream. In the winter, it had been too dangerous and cold. It was while sitting on that rock watching a beautiful sunset that Olaf asked her to marry him. Why had she come here today? It opened the wounds she was trying to ignore.
Buttermilk slowed her pace as she neared the grove, leaves crunching under her hooves. When they were close to the rock, the horse stopped and bent her head to munch the blades of brown grass that peeked through the carpet of autumn leaves. Anna slid from the horse’s back and walked to the rock, but she didn’t sit on it. As she stared at the monolith, anger simmered within her. She picked up a dead twig and fiddled with it, breaking small pieces off and dropping them as she stomped up the trail worn around the side of the huge stone. When she reached the flat surface at the top, she stood and looked all around. In every direction, things looked as if they were dying or were already dead.
“Olaf, why did you leave me?” Anna spit the words out as if she couldn’t get rid of them quickly enough.
She picked up a small stone that had broken off from the larger block and threw it into the clear water that gurgled below. The splash sent up a spray that fell back into the stream like raindrops. Cleansing raindrops. If only something could cleanse the pain from her heart.
“Why were you so stubborn?” This time, the words were louder, and tears began to make tracks down her cheeks. But they were tears of anger, not tears of grief.
Slowly she picked her way down the side of the rock. With each step, the word Why? beat a cadence in her brain. She wanted to hit something. . .or someone. Actually, she wanted to hit Olaf for leaving her. She wanted him to hold her in his arms as she beat furiously against his muscular chest. But he wasn’t here. He would never be here again. She leaned over and picked up a rock that peeked out from under the leaves.
“Why couldn’t you love me more?” she shouted, as she threw the rock against the large stone.
Again and again, shouted questions accompanied the missiles she hurled against the monument to her unfulfilled love. Each one shattered, just as her heart had shattered. Finally, when her anger was spent, Anna stopped the barrage of words and weapons. She slumped against a tree, exhausted.
Twice she had given her heart freely, and twice it had been broken. No more. She would never give her heart to a man again. She would never risk being this hurt again. She didn’t need a man. She could take care of herself.
Anna walked downstream until she came to a spot where there was a narrow sandbar and she could walk to the water’s edge. She pulled the scarf from her hair and dipped a corner of the cotton square into the cold water. With the dampened fabric, she washed the dried tears from her face. After wringing the cloth out, she tied her hair back again. Straightening her shoulders, she went to Buttermilk and caressed the beloved animal’s neck before mounting and riding toward home. She sat tall in the saddle and held her head high. Today, Anna was determined that her world would change. But deep inside, somehow she knew that this would be hard to accomplish.
❧
Gerda was sitting at the kitchen table talking to Mrs. Jenson when Anna came in from the barn. “Anna, there you are. I was about to give up on you and go home.”
Anna looked at her mother. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what I was doing. I decided to go for a ride this morning.” She looked at her best friend. “And I would have waited if I had known you were coming today.”
“That’s wonderful.” Gerda jumped up and hugged her. “It’s the first time you’ve been out of the house, isn’t it?”
Anna nodded. “I know. I was becoming a recluse. I’m through with that. Today is a new day.” She hoped that Gerda wouldn’t recognize the emptiness in her eyes or the forced bravado in her voice.
Taking Gerda’s arm, Anna escorted her into the parlor. The last time they sat in this room was when they worked on her wedding dress, but she wouldn’t let herself think about that today. Hopefully, she would be able to forget that whole time in her life. She needed to move on. . .if she could.
“I should have asked while we were still in the kitchen,” Anna said before she sat on the sofa. “Would you like a cup of tea? I think there are some muffins left from breakfast. That’s unusual, since Lowell and Ollie eat so much to keep up their strength.”
“They’re big men.” Gerda smiled. “Big men eat a lot to keep them going. Right?” She looked back toward the kitchen. “I love your moder’s muffins. Maybe I’ll eat one.”
Anna smiled, and the two young women headed back to get the food. When they returned to the parlor, Anna set the tray on the table in front of the sofa. After sitting beside Gerda, she poured two cups of the fragrant brew and handed one to her friend. Then she put fresh butter on the still warm muffin and set the small plate beside Gerda’s saucer.
“So what brings you by this morning?” Anna stopped suddenly. “That’s a silly question. You’ve been faithful about checking on me every couple of days.”
Gerda sipped her tea, then set the cup on the saucer. “Was I that obvious?”
“Actually, I appreciate the love you’ve shown me. And the understanding. I needed both of them.” Anna patted Gerda’s hand. “But I turned a corner this morning, I think. I’m going to be all right.”
Gerda stood and walked to the window and fiddled with the lace curtains. After turning around, she straightened the crocheted doily under the lamp
on the table that was framed by the curtains. Was she nervous? Anna wondered what she had to be nervous about.
“Actually, Anna, I wanted to talk to you about something. I wasn’t sure I should, but since you seem better this morning—”
“I would do anything for you, just as you would for me.”
Gerda came back around the end of the sofa and dropped down to sit on the edge, turning to face Anna. “The only thing that’s wrong with me is that I need you to help with the dressmaking business.”
“What about Olina?” Anna knew that Gerda’s sister-in-law was also her partner. Besides that, the business was located in the front room of the home Olina and Gustaf Nilsson lived in on the outskirts of Litchfield.
“You know she’s going to have a baby. She gets tired quicker with this one, and she has her daughter to take care of. Little Olga can be a big handful sometimes. That’s for sure.” Gerda laughed. “So if you could help me, it would relieve Olina a lot.”
Anna sat a moment lost in thought. Did she want to work? Why not? She was good at making clothing, and it would help her move on with her life. A change of scenery might take her mind off her problems.
“When do you want me to start. . .if I decide to help?”
Gerda smiled and relaxed against the back of the sofa. Had she been afraid to ask Anna? Maybe that was why she seemed nervous earlier.
“Any time you’re ready,” Gerda said. “Tomorrow wouldn’t be too soon.”
“All right. I’ll be there in the morning if you’re sure Olina won’t mind.”
Gerda hugged Anna. “I talked it over with her before I came. She’ll be glad to have the help, too.”
“And we work so well together. Remember all the parties we’ve planned, and we’ve helped each other make clothing before.” A wedding dress among them. But Anna shut that thought out of her mind. It was 1894, and in this modern time, more women were working outside the home. Tomorrow she would enter the world of business.
❧
August hurried to finish shoeing the horse Gustaf had left with him. Then he was going to clean up and ride the horse to Gustaf’s house. Gerda had asked him to come by the Nilsson home for lunch today. She was fixing the meal so Olina wouldn’t have to, and she wanted August to eat with them.
He walked the horse to the livery and tied it in a stall before he went to his room. For some reason, he felt like sprucing up a bit. After a good washup in his room, he got some hot water for a shave. It was unlike him to shave in the middle of the day, but he hadn’t shaved that morning, and he didn’t want to look like a mountain man or trapper when he went to eat. Gerda was always teasing him about his bad habit of not being careful about his grooming.
While August swished his brush around the bar of soap in his shaving mug, he whistled a happy tune. He smeared the foamy suds over his face. Then he opened his straight razor and started by sliding it up his neck. He was glad that he had stropped his razor at the end of his last shave. Its sharp edge sliced through the softened hairs as if they were butter. After he rinsed the residue from his face, he applied a little bay rum shaving lotion. Then he preened in front of the mirror.
“This blacksmith cleans up pretty good, if I do say so myself.”
The happy melody was still playing in his head when August dismounted in front of the house. Since it was already noon, he decided to tie the horse to the hitching post and take it to the barn after he ate. When the door opened following his rap on it, August stood and stared.
He saw a vision of loveliness framed in the doorway. Anna. She was wearing a green dress that brought out the highlights in her hazel eyes. This was the first time he had seen her in anything but black since the funeral. Actually, this was the first time he had seen her at all. She hadn’t come to church or to town that he knew of, at least not in the last two weeks. He had heard from Gerda that Anna hardly left her room. What was she doing here?
❧
Anna didn’t know that they were expecting August to eat with them. When the knock sounded on the door, she thought it might be one of their many customers. The dressmaking business thrived. She opened the door to see if she could help, instead of bothering Gerda or Olina.
Although she was tall, she had to look up into the face of the man standing there. August. He was wearing a blue plaid shirt that made his eyes seem more blue than gray. He looked fresh and clean, his face newly shaven. For an instant, she wanted to test the smoothness with her fingertips.
What was wrong with her? This was August. Gerda’s brother. The strong, shy, quiet Nilsson brother. Then a snippet of a thought flitted through her mind. A phrase that Merta had uttered when they had been working on her wedding dress. Something about August being interested in Anna. For some reason, he had captured her gaze, and she caught a glimpse of something she couldn’t define.
“Are you two going to stand there gaping at each other, or are you going to invite my brother in?” Gerda came up behind Anna. “Dinner is on the table. You’re just in time.”
Gerda took August by the arm and led him to the table. Anna gave her head a slight shake to clear her thoughts and followed her friends.
❧
Mrs. Braxton ordered three new dresses for the upcoming holiday season. And Marja wasn’t a patient person. She was anxious to get the garments, even though it was still over a week before Thanksgiving.
Normally Anna used the sewing machine, stitching up the major seams of the designs. When she finished each dress, Gerda did the handwork and added the decorations. But today Gerda wasn’t in the sunny workroom. She had gone to town. August wanted her to help him bring something to the house. Probably for Gustaf or Olina.
Ever since Anna started working with Gerda, August was always underfoot. If he wasn’t helping Gustaf with some repair on the house, he was running errands or doing other things for Gerda. Didn’t that man have a job of his own that he needed to see about?
The thought wasn’t fair, and Anna knew it. August was a hard worker. Mr. Simpkins had employed him for several years. Recently, Mr. Simpkins decided to retire and move to California where his daughter and her family lived. August had saved enough money to buy him out, so he did. Now he was the only blacksmith in town. That kept him plenty busy.
Maybe he didn’t have much of a social life, since he spent so much time over here. Anna laughed. Who was she to comment on the social life of others? Hers consisted of eating dinner with her family and working with Gerda. Sometimes she took a break and played with Olga so Olina could get some rest. But that was the extent of her activities. Of course, that wasn’t a bad thing. Since she started working here, she could relegate to the dark recesses of her mind all the events that had plagued her while she was holed up in her room for those two weeks. Thoughts she didn’t want to entertain, but that never actually left her for long.
Anna finished stitching the skirt to the bodice of the dress. When she lifted the garment and repositioned it, the material filled her lap. She hoped she wouldn’t crush it too badly.
“Oh good, you’re finished.” Gerda breezed into the room from the door that opened onto the front porch. “I wanted to try this out.”
Anna looked past Gerda to see August enter carrying something that was wrapped in brown paper. Legs stuck out from the paper, two at one end and one near the other end of the contraption.
“What’s that?” Anna stood and folded the dress over the back of the chair where she had been sitting.
“It’s an ironing table.” Gerda smiled up at her brother. “August built it for us. Now we don’t have to clear off the cutting table to iron something.”
August pulled off the paper that had protected the top. It was long and thin with padding tied around it. He had even tapered one end to make it easier to slip items on it.
Anna glanced over at the potbellied stove where their irons rested when not in use. “Maybe we should set it near the stove. That way we won’t have to carry the flatirons so far.”
“Good idea.
” August moved the contraption and situated it a comfortable distance from the irons. “How’s this?”
Anna thought he was asking Gerda, but he turned questioning eyes toward her. “It looks fine to me.” She picked up the dress she had been working on. “I’ll try it out.”
After laying the garment on the new addition to the workroom, she picked up one of the flatirons, using the thick pad of fabric they kept nearby to protect their hands from the heat of the iron handle. While she applied heated pressure to the dress, she peeked at August, who was carrying on a conversation with Gerda.
Why hadn’t she ever noticed how handsome he was? He was so quiet he didn’t draw attention to himself. The work he did helped him develop extremely muscular arms and chest. His shirt stretched tight over them whenever he moved. Anna almost wished he had been the one who had sought her out first. With his gentle nature, he probably wouldn’t have broken her heart the way Gustaf and Olaf had. What was she thinking? Here she was still mourning the loss of Olaf. How could she compare him to another man?
❧
All the time August talked to Gerda, he was aware of every move Anna made. As she bent over the ironing table and pressed the heavy, hot iron into the fabric, he hoped she wouldn’t burn herself. He knew it was impossible not to get burned occasionally when you used one of those. He remembered many times Gerda, and even his mother, had to deal with a blister on their hands or arms from ironing.
A war raged within him every time he came to this house and found Anna here. When he looked at her, all the longing he felt for her from the first time he saw her surged to the surface. Along with it came the fierce jealousy. Jealousy of Gustaf for capturing her heart before he tried. Even jealousy of a dead man for the time he had held her heart in his hands. Why couldn’t he get past this jealousy? Maybe some day he would be able to think of Anna as something more than his brother’s castoff. But not yet. Not today.
❧
Anna thought she had gotten used to August’s appearance at the Nilsson house, but it always startled her. She had moved the sewing machine in front of the window so the sunlight would help her see what she was doing. While she concentrated on keeping the gathers even as she sewed a ruffle onto the skirt of one of the dresses for Mrs. Braxton, she became aware of a wagon stopping in front of the house. She hoped it wasn’t Marja coming for the dresses. They weren’t quite ready.
His Brother's Castoff Page 3
