by Sky Winters
“In what way, darlin'?” he asked.
“You know...” I had heard the word before secretly from Mabel but had never said it aloud myself. “Homosexual.”
He looked at me for a moment, a puzzled expression on his face, and then laughed loudly.
“Well aren't you bold? Shoot no! But they do think it's awfully suspicious that I keep turning down the women folk out here. I'd like to keep to myself but can't have that happening with everybody checking in on me all the time, bothering me about my personal business or asking me when I'll settle down.”
I wondered what exactly his “personal business” consisted of. I figured that as his wife I would find out soon enough. The thought gave me butterflies and I pursed my lips expectantly, waiting for my answer. He had grown quiet for a moment and squinted toward the horizon before turning back to me.
“Some of the men here don't like me. They see the way their wives or daughters look at me. Treat me like some kind of a threat. I figure that with you here, their worries will simmer down some. Maybe they can put their hackles down and stop worrying I'll snatch up one of their girls and stop targeting me for their anger quite so much.”
Looking at Blake I could see why the men would be fearful. Not only was he was unbelievably good looking, but beneath his ruggedly handsome looks he also seemed to have a gentle tone and temperament that any woman would love. But he didn't want love, that's what the ad had said. I was just there for appearances, and I could keep to myself and do as I pleased. It was an arrangement I could certainly be happy to work with.
I began to look forward to the journey ahead of me, and leaned back in my seat to enjoy the open air as we rode in Blake's wagon toward his home.
Chapter 3
“Welcome to my humble home," Blake said with a nervous smile. “We're not man and wife yet, so you can stay in the guestroom. After that, we can figure out what to do, depending on how you're comfortable. We can just pretend to stay in the same room if company is over. That way you can just get settled into the guestroom and have your privacy and I'll have mine. I built it for whoever answered that ad. Since I promised your freedom, I intend to stay true to my word. That's the proper thing to do."
I smiled privately to myself, happy that I was with such a gentleman. If I had been married to Mr. Plumb, I knew that having my own bedroom would not be an option. I would be forced to spend all my time around a man who wanted me all to himself. That would have been the most miserable thing on earth for me, so I was glad to know that Blake was different.
“Just so you know, I cook for myself. But if you'd like, I would like to make dinner for the both of us tonight. I'm sure it's been a long trip. You can eat however you like, or you can feel free to join me. We can be friends, we don't just have to be strangers since are going to be living together and all. I don't mind getting to know you. I just don't want to make you uncomfortable or blur the lines.”
“All right, sounds pleasant," I said to him as I looked around.
His home was exactly the kind of place I had pictured during all of my fantasies about the West. It looked as if he had built it himself, and it was large and spacious but small enough to be cozy at the same time. There was a big common room with two bedrooms built across from each other. He had cut large windows into the side of the walls so that we could look out over a beautiful mountain view no matter where we were in the room. He had settled in the prairies at the foot of a large mountain and had the best of both worlds in his area. The atmosphere felt warm, as if I were home already. Inside it smelled like cedar wood and I noticed a small pile of logs by a black iron woodstove that was used for heating and cooking.
“Do you mind doing chores, Daisy?" Blake asked me.
“Of course I don't mind doing chores," I told him indignantly. I had done plenty of chores at home, mostly helping mother with the sewing. I figured that was all he had in mind.
“How about you stoke the fire and get it roaring so we don't freeze to death tonight?" He said. “I'll start supper while you do that.”
I opened and closed my mouth, my heart fluttering in panic. I had never started a fire before. But of course if a man was able to do it, I could do the same. All I had to do was figure out how. Blake disappeared out the front door and went down to the cellar to fetch some food. I had to sit inside with the wood stove trying to figure out how to start the fire.
I grabbed a poker from the corner and stood there looking at the wood stove. I picked up a log and tucked it under the other arm, and then stuffed it into the wood stove. I began poking furiously at it, trying to remember what my father had done whenever he needed to start a fire. I had been fairly sheltered in my father's large estate, and tried my best to make sure to steer clear from anything that could have been considered man's work. My mother was horrified anytime I showed an interest in what my father was doing, so I had learned early on to avoid anything that my mother might scold me for. She was a very unpleasant woman when she set her mind to it.
I groaned in frustration as I poked the log with a stick. Nothing was happening, I was doing something wrong. Suddenly, I heard a low rumble of laughter coming from behind me. Blake sat down a bag of potatoes and onions and approached the wood stove.
“What in the world are you doing, girl?" He asked me.
“What's it look like I'm doing?” I snapped. "I'm starting a fire.”
“Not like that you're not," he laughed. "Let me show you how to do that so that you'll know for next time."
I was humiliated and embarrassed, but his laughter was contagious and made me feel at ease.
“Don't worry, we all start out not knowing a thing. First of all, that log is way too big to start anything.”
He pulled the log out and set it beside the wood stove.
“Second of all, I like to hide my fire. Watch."
He took a handful of little sticks that I hadn't noticed beside the log pile and tossed them inside the wood stove. He took the poker gently from my hand and began to stab at the ashes, stirring them around until I saw smoke. The little twigs began to combust and soon they were burning into a decent sized fire.
“Once the fire gets to be about this size, you can put the log in," he said, handing the log back to me with a grin.
I nervously approached the wood stove and pushed the log inside, backing away quickly as ashes rushed out at me. He chuckled that my apprehension and shook his head.
“I guess I didn't take into account I'd be getting me a city girl," he laughed heartily. “Don't worry though darling, we'll teach you a thing or two about country living yet.”
I wasn't sure whether to be offended or flattered by his kindness, and so I didn't say anything at all.
“Do you know your way around a kitchen?" He asked, gesturing toward the potatoes. I nodded, and we set to work side-by-side, peeling and cutting potatoes for supper. It was comfortable but it was quiet, and neither of us really knew what to do from there. It was strange being so near to his sturdy, strong body, and we were working seamlessly together as a team to prepare our meal. It was strange how comfortable I felt working with him. He made me a little bit nervous, but more than anything he made me feel very safe and secure.
When dinner was ready, he led me to a wooden table, unlike any table I had ever dined at in all my life. It was as if somebody had chopped a tree in half and set it on some sticks. And it was kind of dirty. He saw me staring at it, and a worried look flickered across his face.
“You don't like it, do you?" He asked me, the frown setting deeper into his face. “We could eat outside if you want. I can make you a new table. I never mind some fresh air or a chance to work with my hands."
“It's not that at all,” I lied. “I've just never seen a table like this before."
“Well don't that beat all," he said, shaking his head. “You're probably used to something a lot better than all of this."
He gestured toward his home, seeming to feel a little bit self-conscious. I suddenly felt terri
ble and gritted my teeth. I wish I hadn't looked at the table at all or had any of those cruel thoughts about how many meals may have been spilled all over the wooden surface.
“I love it here,” I said firmly to him, looking him straight in the eye. “It'll just take some getting used to, but I'm willing."
He eyed me for a little while longer before sitting down to eat at the table.
“I made this one pretty fast," he said. “I never expected anybody else to eat with me here. I know it doesn't look the best, but I wasn't trying to make it look good. I was just thinking about functionality.”
“You don't have to defend your work to me," I said, sitting down and pulling my plate close to me.
I didn't realize how hungry I was until I smelled that food, and I picked up my fork. As I dug in, I became conscious of Blake's shoulders shaking silently. At first I wondered if he was crying about me insulting his table, and I worried that maybe I really had thrown my lot in with a homosexual. I didn't mind if he was, I just wished that he would be honest with me about it. Slowly however, I realized that he was actually laughing.
“I think you'll come to like the country here,” he said. “Even if you don't know how to make the fire yet, I reckon you'll be able to feed yourself in no time.”
I gave what I hoped was an evil glare, but we both laughed. I knew he was right. I didn't follow the same kinds of rules that most of the girls in Boston did, and I had a feeling that I would begin to love the country almost as much as Blake did. Whether I was born there or not, the West felt as if it was my home and I was excited to be able to express myself freely with somebody who would not have any expectations of me at all. That wasn't something I could have experienced with Mr. Plumb, or any other man back home for that matter. I was very grateful to be in Blake's home that night, and when he showed me to my bedroom and pulled out extra blankets so that I wouldn't get cold, I studied his handsome face, wondering just how close I was going to be with my future husband.
Chapter 4
I was sleeping soundly when a sound startled me. I had been asleep for about three hours, and it was very late and dark out. I had heard a loud creaking noise that stirred me from my slumber. For a moment I couldn't remember where I was, and I had expected to be in my old bedroom back in Boston. However, the smell of wood burning and the forest outside was everywhere, and I remembered with a start that I was in the Sierra Nevada Mountains with a man I barely knew. A man who was going to be my husband.
I crept out of bed, wondering if maybe he was awake and that was why I had heard the creaking sound. I looked all around and didn't see him anywhere. His bedroom door was ajar, swinging on its hinges as if he had just left. I clung to the doorframe, suddenly afraid for some reason I could not identify. I walked toward the entrance of the house and realized that that door was also wide open. Blake had disappeared into the night, and left me behind alone in the house. And it was a full moon, too. Wasn't that when all the craziest things were supposed to happen?
At first I was angry and wondered what he was thinking. Who leaves a poor defenseless woman who has never been in the country before alone like that? I was scared, and a shiver ran through my whole body. Everything was dark and strange, and the rooms that had been full of light and life while I was awake and eating supper with Blake now looked ominous and scary in the dark shadows. I swallowed hard and walked back into my bedroom after I made sure that the door was latched securely closed. I close the door to my bedroom and lay down in the Pinewood bed. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but I was too nervous. Eventually though, my tiredness won out and my fears slipped away, leaving me worn out and asleep in my bed.
The next morning I was awakened by the smell of breakfast cooking. My stomach rumbled immediately, and I stood up and floated toward the smell without thinking twice about where Blake might've gone. Suddenly, I realized that he had left me alone in the house that night, but I was safe and sound and he was home, and everything was okay. I was determined to give him a piece of my mind, so I marched straight up to him where he was cooking and stood on my tiptoes to look him in the eye.
“Where on earth did you run off to last night?" I asked him, setting my jaw in a frown. “You left the door wide open, anything could've come in to eat me."
His bright demeanor suddenly darkened, and I stepped away, unsure of what to expect. I knew many men with terrible tempers, and most of them didn't hesitate from showing a woman her place. Or at least, what he thought her place should be. Instead of turning on me though, he didn't answer and stirred the skillet where our eggs and meat were cooking.
“You don't have to tell me what you're up to, but could you at least try to close the door after yourself?" I asked him, changing my tone and trying to soften it to win his favor.
“I'll remember that next time," was all he said.
***
He had big plans for us that day, and took me outside with him, to the stable where he kept his horses. I wasn't sure what he had in mind, until he saddled up one of the horses and held his hand out to me. He wanted me to go for a ride with them.
“You do know how to do this don't you? Rich girls always get to ride horses, don't they?" He asked, by way of teasing.
“It just so happens that I never showed any interest in horseback riding and my father was afraid I would get hurt. A young girl we knew got killed on one of her horses so I was never allowed to go near them since then.”
“So your parents were a little bit overprotective where they?" He said with a chuckle. “Horses are not going to hurt you if you know what to do. Let me show you how it's done.”
“Honestly I'd rather not, I'm kind of afraid."
“Well it's good that you're honest, if you're scared the horses know it and they get scared even faster. That makes it even more dangerous. About that girl you knew, I bet she was scared on her horse. But I bet nobody paid any attention to that did they?”
My mind went back to the girl and her parents, and I knew that he was right. She had never wanted to be on a horse in the first place, but they had forced her into it and suffered dearly for that mistake.
“All right then, we're going to do it a little differently," he said, taking the saddle off of the horse. “I want you to sit this stable for a while, just you and me and the horses, and will give them a brush so you guys can get to know each other. Eventually you'll be able to read them if you start understanding them and not being so afraid. There's nothing to it really, it's all in your own mind how you do it.”
We spent the morning and early afternoon bonding with the horses, before he finally decided to put them up to his carriage and take us both into town.
“Now if these folks say anything to you, you just tell them that you're my bride-to-be, and that I'm putting you up until were officially married. We gotta get you the fabric for your dress, and whatever else you might want. The last thing I want is you going a single day without something you need, so let's get going before it gets too late and the stores are closed.”
I had no choice but to agree, and found myself gazing at the beautiful countryside as he drove his wagon into town. All the townsfolk stared at us again, just as they had when I first arrived on the train and climbed into Blake's carriage. What I found most peculiar was that everybody stared more Blake than they did at me. Many of them looked at me and shook their heads in disbelief, while others just glared at Blake. I knew that his stories must've been true.
However, that didn't account for all the women who were glaring at him as well. Unless he already tried his hand at womanizing, I couldn't figure out what it was that everybody would hate him for so much. I didn't want to believe that he was a womanizer, but it would make sense, wouldn't it? He wanted a woman like me to come and live with him to keep clear of any blame so that he can continue being a good for nothing scoundrel who didn't give a hoot about the vows of marriage.
I felt guilty for having these thoughts in my head while sitting right next to him, but what else
was I supposed to think? Anybody in my position would have thought the same thing. Still, I didn't think that this was his secret, but he certainly did have some kind of secret that he was hiding from me, and maybe everybody else there.
I soon forgot my thoughts and became consumed in shopping with Blake. He was great company, and he didn't hesitate to spend a dime. I wondered how he got all this money, but he didn't say anything about that. I was provided for, and I didn't mind letting him pay because I figured it would be taken out of what he owed me for the cost of being his mail order bride. We were done shopping, the sun was beginning to set and we were laughing together as if we were already friends. All the thoughts of him being a womanizer had left my mind, and all I could do was enjoy the moment and wish that it would never end.
Chapter 5
One thing that I had not counted on when I met Blake was his pride. The man was just as stubborn as I was, and that was saying a lot. You would have to be pretty foolhardy to run off on a train to marry some man you've never met in a place you've never been before, where danger was high and an animal could come out at you at any moment and have you for breakfast. I believed I had found my match the second day we were together, and his stubbornness just kept on coming and showing itself when I least expected it.
Blake disappeared to do some errands for the day, and I was feeling very lonely. I wanted to go out to the horses and brush them like he showed me but I was scared. So instead, I decided to try to reorganize the furniture in the homestead so that I could feel a little more comfortable. I never liked how a table can take up all the space in a room like his did, so I pushed it against the wall and admired my handiwork. It seemed much better to me, and I liked seeing the space on the floor. I imagined there was a band playing and felt happy having room to dance around and twirl in my new skirt. No man had ever been able to take his eyes off of me when I danced, and I wondered how Blake would feel if we danced together. I imagined taking me into his strong arms, and letting his face break out into the carefree smile that I had come to enjoy so much.
