Frontier Want Ad Bride

by Lyn Cote

  She rubbed her face against his shirt, setting off waves of sensation in him. “I know.” Then she looked up, pulling away. “Do you have any idea why my brother has come? Why he’s so angry? Is it about Father?”

  Bereft of her touch, he lifted both shoulders and spread both palms in a gesture of not knowing.

  “He’s so angry.”

  Asa nodded. He remembered Gil’s quick-trigger temper, something that he hadn’t come into the war with, but that battle after battle had fed. That’s why he’d remained a private throughout the war. “Don’t worry, Judith. I’ll keep close. And if he acts like that again, I’ll send him on his way.” He wanted to brush her cheek but he kept his hand at his side.

  “He should be home,” Judith said despairingly. “We’re right in the middle of the growing season. I don’t understand how he could leave the farm, our livestock… It doesn’t make any sense.”

  Asa permitted himself to pat her shoulder. “No, it doesn’t.” His brother-in-law’s appearance baffled him. And he didn’t trust the man to keep from letting his anger get away from him. Asa must stay close to home.

  “I’ll pray about it,” Judith said. “God knows why.”

  Asa nodded. Judith’s faith was strong, but Asa was troubled and would be on his guard. He wished he’d been able to talk to Noah Whitmore today. He couldn’t go that far out of town with Gil nearby, as dangerous and unpredictable as an unexploded shell, filled with deadly grapeshot. But the sheriff lived just up the road. He was a veteran and, recalling their trip to find Smith, Asa realized he could talk to him, too. And seeing Gil like this prompted him even more.

  Asa mentioned this to Judith and left, telling her to run there if Gil came back. He couldn’t understand how Dan had missed the edge of anger in his son’s voice and manner. One thing was certain, however. Gil had not come here for any good reason.

  *

  Judith spent the afternoon making her eight loaves of bread and trying to overcome worry with prayer. Fortunately Asa had earlier constructed Lily’s swing out in front of the cabin. After returning from town, the child spent the day swinging and singing to her dolly, while Colton had decided to stay in town with Dan to meet the boats.

  Judith kept busy piecing together scraps of leftover cloth into the window curtains. Smith had burned her pretty blue-and-white gingham ones. Trying to make the scraps into something that didn’t look like a mishmash meant intricate sewing and ironing. She tried to keep her mind on her task, the steam rising from the damp cotton as she pressed it. But she also wondered why Asa had gone to talk to the sheriff. Did it have something to do with the reporter’s visit yesterday? Or was it about Gil?

  And what was she to make of her husband’s kissing her yesterday but still keeping her at a distance? They’d been married for nearly three months and they still lived together like friends, not husband and wife. The gulf between them yawned like a canyon.

  Judith was just finishing the ironing and almost ready to hang the curtains again when she heard a familiar voice greeting Lily. Mrs. Ashford. Judith’s heart slipped a bit downward.

  She set the hot flatiron on the hearth to cool safely and walked to the open door. “Mrs. Ashford,” Judith kept her tone light and welcoming, “what brings you to my door?”

  The storekeeper’s wife in her white bonnet bustled up to her. “We need to talk.”

  Judith for once welcomed a chance to talk. So much had happened yesterday and today. Also, it occurred to Judith that Emma had not stayed so they could talk matters over in private together. Judith should have thought that odd. But she’d been so distracted, that she hadn’t—then.

  “I saw that your brother from Illinois has come for a visit. And there’s so much talk in town about that reporter yesterday.” Mrs. Ashford untied her bonnet and gazed pointedly at Judith as if saying she would not be put off.

  Judith sighed silently. What the woman said was probably very true. “Why don’t we sit out here?” She motioned to the bench. “It’s such a lovely day. And we’ll get the breeze here.”

  The woman sat down, and Judith joined her on the bench. She let the summer green leaves fluttering on the surrounding maples and oaks among the thick pines soothe her. Lily’s singing blended with the chittering black-and-white chickadees that had flown down and were vying with the chickens for seed in the yard. “Well, I’m not one to gossip,” Mrs. Ashford began, “but I thought you should know that your brother has spent the day in the saloon.”

  Ignoring a further sinking feeling, Judith knew that Mrs. Ashford liked to talk, but she’d noted that the woman did not, in fact, gossip. Whatever she thought, she said to people’s faces. So Judith responded in kind. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Well, it has upset your father. He even went into the saloon and tried to draw your brother out. Gil refused.”

  Judith sighed and bowed her head. “Poor Father,” she murmured, listening to the soothing, steady creak of the wood and rope of Lily’s swing.

  “I know that your father is not that kind of man. Many men will drop by the saloon and have an ale in an evening and then go home to their wives. Even Ned does so at times. Men like to have a place to talk like we have our quilting circle. But your brother…” Mrs. Ashford fell silent.

  “Is Emma working at the store?”

  “Your sister wasn’t needed today and fortunately doesn’t know this. I didn’t like to expose a maiden lady to such…” Mrs. Ashford’s voice trailed off.

  “Well, thank you for coming to me and letting me know.” Judith leaned against the rough log wall behind her for support and sighed. Again.

  The woman nodded with pursed lips. “I wanted you to know so you can handle whatever comes of it.” The woman leaned forward. “Now, what happened with that reporter fella yesterday? He called your husband Captain Fitzgerald Asa Brant. I think I’ve heard that name somewhere.”

  Judith let her eyes shut for just a moment. “Mrs. Ashford, I know you will keep this in confidence until my husband is ready to speak of it. But yes, he was a militia captain in the Union Army.”

  “That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “No, it isn’t. But Asa doesn’t like talking about it, so he left off his first name. You see, he was widely known in Illinois and southern Wisconsin, I expect, and people kept pestering him to talk about the battles and such.”

  Mrs. Ashford considered this. “Yes, Ned and I came up from southern Illinois, so we hadn’t really heard of him. But people can be so insensitive.” She shook her head in disapproval.

  Judith swallowed her amusement over the irony of this comment. “I know,” she replied with a straight face. “So if people ask, just tell them what I said. It’s a fact.”

  The storekeeper’s wife looked solemn. “We didn’t lose a son in the war, but I don’t think anybody was untouched by it. And the South just won’t settle down and accept that slavery is over and the Union is one.”

  Judith nodded. Reconstruction, as they called it, had not gone smoothly.

  The woman rose. “I must get back to the store.”

  “Thank you for the warning.” Judith rose, too. “And for caring about us.”

  “Well, you’ve had it rough lately,” Mrs. Ashford replied, “coming here to marry a man you barely knew, taking in the children, hosting us during the flood, having Smith wreck everything here and dealing with that reporter.” The woman straightened and smoothed her skirt, shook her head sadly, and started off for town.

  Judith sat again, weighed down by the woman’s list of all the trials she’d faced the past few months. But the greatest trial of all was getting close to her husband. Breaking down the wall around Asa.

  *

  After Asa came home from visiting the sheriff, he had a lot rolling around in his mind from their conversation. He could see by Judith’s expression that she hoped he’d tell her why he’d gone. But the matters he and Merriday had talked about were still percolating in his mind. He wasn’t ready to speak, not yet. He se
nt her a half smile, hoping that would be enough for now, till the children were asleep, and then perhaps he could tell her something.

  She had bowed her head in acceptance and gone about preparing a supper of fresh-baked bread with butter and leftover beans, enough to feed her father and Gil, too. But by the time supper was on the table, neither had appeared.

  Colton came in with Lily, who danced around the table, unaware of the tension surrounding her. The four of them sat down. Asa said grace and the meal began.

  “You put different curtains up,” Lily said. “I like them. You used some of the same cloth that you made my Sunday dress out of.”

  Asa glanced at the windows. He noted how carefully Judith had constructed them, a patchwork of leftover fabric. He hadn’t protected his family and with the damaged fields, they couldn’t spend cash as easily as before. Asa looked down and realized that they were again eating off his old bent tin plates, which even Smith couldn’t destroy. Unable to provide for his family, Asa burned with shame.

  Judith’s soft hand pressed his, resting on the tabletop. “It’s fine. We have each other. We’re fine,” she repeated.

  He turned his hand over and gripped hers. His throat thick, he nodded. The four of them ate. Lily’s happy chatter about her dolly and her new swing filled the silence.

  “Am I too late?” Dan stood at the door, his hat in hand.

  “Of course not, Father.” Judith jumped to her feet. “Come right in.”

  “I’ll wash up first.” He ducked sideways to the outdoor basin.

  Soon Dan sat beside Asa, staring at his plate.

  Judith said, “Children, if you’re done, you may be excused.”

  The children bounced up and, collecting their firefly jar, headed outside in the golden gloaming. Judith and Asa sipped their coffee while Dan nibbled at his bread and butter.

  Finally Dan rested his head in his hand, staring down at his barely eaten supper.

  “Father, Mrs. Ashford visited me today. I know what’s bothering you.” She turned to Asa. “She thought I should know that Gil had gone directly to the saloon this afternoon.”

  Asa digested this.

  Dan groaned. “He’s shaming me in front of the whole town, just like he did at home. I could barely show my face there. Why did he come? Just to embarrass us? I can’t figure it out.”

  Asa was sorry that Gil was causing Dan, a good man, pain, but he could do little to ease it.

  Judith looked to him, pleading in her eyes.

  “If he’s been drinking all day,” Asa said drily, “he’s past reason. I’m sorry, Judith. Going now and trying to get him out would just cause a nasty scene right in the middle of town.”

  His wife nodded slowly, solemnly.

  Dan groaned again. “Why did he come?” he repeated.

  Asa had no answer, but after speaking to Brennan Merriday he felt more confident about what Gil needed to hear. He hoped it would be enough.

  *

  Once again Asa and Judith sat side by side in front of the hearth with its low cook fire smoldering under ash, banked for the night. The children were snuggled onto their pallets with light cotton summer quilts over them that Judith had carefully mended.

  Judith hoped that Asa would tell her about his visit to the sheriff and discuss what they might do about Gil. From outside she heard what must be raccoons fighting over something, screeching high and angry. This brought to mind Gil and Mabel Joy’s frequent squabbles. Why did they act like that?

  “I know you’re worried about your brother,” Asa said quietly when the children had both fallen into deep sleep.

  “I can’t even imagine a reason for his coming. Not one that makes sense. A farmer just doesn’t leave his crop in the field and go off for a visit.”

  Asa patted her hand. “I will talk to him tomorrow. When he’s had a chance to sober up.”

  Grateful for Asa’s consoling touch, Judith slipped a hankie from her apron pocket and wiped her eyes. “I’m not so much ashamed of his behavior as confused. Gil was such a good farmer, a good man, easygoing and easy to laugh. I don’t recognize the man he is now.”

  Asa patted her hand again. “I’ll do what I can.”

  “I know you will. You always do.” She glanced at him then. The only light was the last of the sun’s rays filtering through the windows. “I know I can count on you, husband.”

  Her words were balm to Asa’s ragged spirit. He might never be able to win Judith’s heart, but he had won her confidence. That was something to build on. “I know the same about you.” He forced out the words and felt her clasp his hand.

  How he longed to pull her into his embrace as he had just yesterday. Then she made it easy for him. She rose and held out her arms. He did also and tugged her into his arms gently and respectfully.

  *

  Dan knocked on the door very early next morning. In the cool, fresh air, Asa was just coming back from the barn after milking the cows and letting out the chickens. “What is it, Mr. Jones?” Asa called out, carrying a full milk bucket in each hand.

  Dan turned.

  The older man wrung his hands. “Asa, son-in-law, I need your help.”

  With a foot, Asa pushed open the door. “Come in. Have a cup of coffee.”

  Judith turned from the hearth. “Father?”

  “Asa, you’ve got to come with me and bring your wagon.” The older man stopped to collect himself. “Gil never came back from the saloon last night. I finally fell asleep. When I woke this morning, I went looking for him.” Dan stopped, appearing ready to break down. “He’s passed out on the saloon porch…like a common drunkard.” The man slumped to the bench, covering his face with his hands.

  Judith appeared horrified. Her gaze flew to Asa, an urgent appeal.

  “See to your father.” Asa set down the buckets. “I’ll go get him.” He ran outside and hitched his team in record time. He knew why Dan had come to them. He didn’t want the whole town to wake and see Gil sprawled in front of the saloon door, bringing shame on the whole family.

  He rolled into town, just as the residents were stirring. Doors were opening and he could hear voices. Seagulls were squawking over the nearby river. He pulled up in front of the saloon and there lay Gil, sprawled where he’d probably landed when the barkeep turned him out at closing.

  Asa didn’t waste a moment. He set his brake, climbed down, and threw a limp Gil over his shoulder and then into the wagon bed none too gently. Within minutes he was driving back out of town, listening to Gil groaning and moaning in the back.

  When he reached his place, he again swung Gil over his shoulder and then deposited him under the pump, which he began to work vigorously. Cold water poured down, splashing on Gil’s face.

  He reared up, snorting and gasping like a drowning man.

  Asa eased back from the pump. “Don’t say a word,” he ordered. He dragged the man to his unsteady feet and with Gil’s arm over his shoulders, walked him into the house.

  Judith, the children and Dan all turned to gawk as he half dragged Gil inside.

  “Judith, coffee please.” Asa lowered his brother-in-law into a rocker.

  Judith poured two cups of coffee.

  Asa accepted one and pushed the other into Gil’s trembling hands. “Drink it.”

  Gil clung to the cup, shakily drew the rim up to his lips and sipped.

  “Drink it all. Sober up,” Asa ordered him.

  *

  Judith held herself together for her father’s and the children’s sakes. But she longed to retreat to the bedroom and shut the problem out. This home was a place of peace and harmony, or that’s what she tried to make it. Now this. Her own brother.

  “Children, come to the table. It’s time for breakfast.” Judith waved them away from where they stood close together, looking uncertain.

  “Is he sick?” Lily asked.

  “No, he’s drunk,” Colton said with audible disgust. “You ’member Mr. Smith used to get this way some nights.”

 
; Judith drew in a shuddering breath. “Children, please.”

  The two skirted around Gil and took their places on the bench at the table.

  “Asa?” Judith looked to him.

  Asa nodded and also took his seat at the table across from Dan, who, looking crushed, sat beside the children. After grace, the children began to eat their oatmeal and drink their mugs of fresh milk. Her father nursed a cup of coffee and a slice of toast. Judith didn’t feel like eating but forced herself to. She didn’t know what would happen next. And she did not like to expose the children to this.

  Needing a connection to Asa, she rested a hand on his knee under the table.

  He turned to her.

  She didn’t know what to say. How could he make this better?

  He squeezed her hand and then released it. He ate with a kind of grim determination.

  Soon the meal ended and the children went outside to feed the chickens and gather eggs. Judith rose and began her morning routine, though her gaze strayed to her brother.

  Gil sat, slumped in the rocker, staring at the cook fire.

  “You finished that coffee yet?” Asa asked in a distinctly no-nonsense tone.

  “Yeah,” Gil muttered. Then the man leaped up, staggered out the door and was sick.

  “More coffee,” Asa told Judith.

  “I think, Asa, that a soothing tea might be better,” she said, looking at him.

  “You’re probably right. Brew some, please.” Asa rose and went out to help Gil.

  Soon the two came back in. Gil sat at the table and was able to drink a cup of peppermint tea and nibble some dry toast.

  Finally Gil raised his head and looked at them, his gaze scorching them.

  “What did you come here for?” Dan demanded. “Just to shame your family? Again?”

  Obviously startled by his father’s words, Gil looked like a cornered animal, an angry one.

  Judith moved to the rocker, wishing she were miles away. She turned it to face the three men at the table. “Why did you come, Gil? I insist you explain yourself. You had a reason for coming this far. What is it?”

  “I came to bring our father home, where he belongs.” Gil’s face twisted with irritation. “Why did you leave the farm? There was no need.”