Piecrust Promise

by Nanette Kinslow

  “It looks different somehow,” she said. “Like a real home.”

  “That comes after we get your things in tomorrow and you move in,” he said.

  “Lee,” she said quietly. “It’s wonderful. I’m amazed, and a little afraid.”

  “What are you afraid of?”

  “You leavin’… you stayin’.” Corinne looked down at the ground.

  “I’m not leaving yet, but when I go back I’ll have to stay until the fall. Then I have to decide to reenlist or not.”

  “How much will your decision depend on me?” she asked.

  “More than I think you would like,” he said.

  “Hmm…,” she said. “I guess I had better bake a few pies and make up my mind about some things.”

  Lee picked up his hammer. “I can’t think of anything more I can do to put in a good word for myself,” he said and began to set the latch in the doorjamb.

  Corinne watched him thoughtfully as he worked on the door. What man did all this for someone? For her? Wasn’t all of this exactly what she wanted? She’d climbed right into bed with Hank and he offered nothing but big talk and an exciting ride. A promise like piecrust. Lee Highland was not Hank. He was far better and he deserved much more. More than her and all her damn fears. Corinne went back to washing shirts. Now she was thoughtful as she washed and when she pinned the shirts to the line she did it gently, hanging them out to dry fresh in the sunlight. Smooth, the way he liked them.

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Corinne rose long before sunrise and stirred up the fire pit in the yard. They had moved it to a new place now, farther from the house. Today was the day they would be moving in the furniture. She was excited and nervous.

  She had struggled with her thoughts most of the night. On one hand she imagined just thanking Lee and promising him dozens of pies and telling him he could visit anytime he liked. That dream would be followed by the vision of him riding away on his big horse and it set her to tears every time.

  He could stay, she thought, until he had to go back. That couldn’t be helped and it wasn’t her fault. He was an officer in the cavalry and he had a duty. Sure, he’d ride off, but he’d be back. Wouldn’t he?

  Corinne entertained the thought of his staying. Really staying. Moving in. Both of them living in the house together. One bed. A lover. Corinne rolled onto her back in the tent and caught her breath. If she asked him to stay would he want her that way? She was certainly no pretty debutant who would look good on his arm next to him in his uniform with her nails buffed and hair curled. She was a simple plains girl. She didn’t even read well. Even if he liked her, as he really seemed to, would it be that way? Corinne imagined Lee’s hands on her, running his fingers over her breasts. She could almost hear him breathing hotly into her ear, his lips against her own.

  She rolled over onto her side. She missed having a man. She’d enjoyed making love but Hank was always in a big hurry. At first it was exciting that he would tear at her dress, often ripping her camisole. It would start out so passionately. Then it would end in frustration. He’d take her like a farm animal and grunt and be done with her. She felt used and worthless but somehow she kept hoping it would be different the next time.

  Corinne lay awake for hours drifting between imagining how Lee would be different and then trying to put him from her mind. She had to make a decision. If she wanted him to stay she would have to tell him. He might want to, but what if it was for the excitement of homesteading and not for her? Corinne punched her pillow hard.

  Now as the sun began to peek over the prairie, she wanted only to focus on her moving day. Lee was there and he’d be there for days. He could stay under the roof. Just that. The rest she could decide later.

  “Good morning,” he said as she emerged from her tent.

  Corinne turned to see him standing behind her in the soft light. He wore only his trousers and undershirt. All of Corinne’s fantasies from the night rushed back to her and she caught her breath.

  “I’ll make breakfast,” she said.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  From the unfurling of the first rug, both Corinne and Lee were caught up in setting up the house. They worked side by side all day deciding where to put the furniture and the best ways to arrange the rooms. Corinne appreciated that Lee tolerated her asking him to try the hutch here, or there, and then back again with only smiles and minimal eye-rolling. She assumed it was because he knew it was her place.

  Finally they decided where even the smallest of things would go, like Corinne’s embroidered foot stool. They had an awkward discussion of whether the bed should go in the corner or under the window, and they were done. Lee stacked wood neatly in a box at the far side of the hearth.

  “Where did that wood come from?” Corinne asked.

  “Town,” Lee replied.

  Corinne picked up a piece of the wood. “This is apple wood.”

  “Yes, I believe so.”

  “You bought this? I never saw you buy this.” Corinne studied his face.

  “A fellow told me it burns slowly. He said it was the best for baking. There’s some ash I’ll bring too, but this is for your pies.”

  Corinne turned the apple wood in her hand and then set it carefully on the woodpile. She couldn’t believe him.

  “I figured that pie should be just about the best in the world. Oh, and the contest pies too.” Lee smiled at her warmly.

  “You are somethin’ else, Lieutenant.” Corinne appreciated the easy look in his eyes and his comfortable smile.

  Corinne took her recipe book and set it in the stand Daniel had built for her when she’d won her first contest at twelve years old. He had been very proud. A thin crack ran along one side where her father had shattered it in a drunken fit of anger the night both her and Daniel had run away. Her brother had gone back for it. He’d faced the wrath of their father and gathered the pieces. Corinne had stood in the yard and heard her brother tell her father to go to hell. It was the last time they had been home. Daniel had repaired it lovingly.

  Corinne stepped back from the table, the rug soft beneath her bare feet.

  “That’s a handy item,” Lee said.

  “It surely is,” she said.

  “Interesting looking book as well. Is the cover wood?”

  Corinne took the heavy volume from the stand and set it in Lee’s hands. He leafed through the pages thoughtfully. It was recipe upon recipe of pie after pie. Each page was written neatly, many with notes in the margins or on the backs. Some of the pages were wavy and curled with translucent patches from greasy fingerprints and bits of lard. The cover was thin slices of wood, oiled carefully. On the front was carved the word Pies.

  “It looks like an old bible.” Lee turned the pages reverently. Each page was held with cotton string threaded through tiny holes. There were recipes for everything from plum pies to possum pies.

  “If I can get these crates unpacked today I’m goin’ to bake. Are you ready for pie?”

  Lee looked up at her and sat down on the bench. “That depends. Is this going to be my pie?”

  “I have apples. Does it matter if it’s your pie?”

  “I’m afraid if it is my pie I’ll be sleeping out on the prairie when I’m done eating it.”

  “Alright,” Corinne said. “Tonight it’ll be our pie. But, you have to decide now. Closed crust or Dutch apple. Whichever you pick I will save until it’s yours.”

  “Tonight I want closed crust then.”

  “You better bring in all those crates then so I can finish up.”

  Chapter Sixty-Si x

  Lee Highland watched her as he sat in the big chair at the end of the table. Even with the big stove burning, the room was comfortable. A cool breeze blew through the open windows and the soft scent of a night bloom was in the air. Mince had found a place on one end of the hearth where he had dragged his ragged blanket and he slept contentedly, his chin upon his paws.

  Lee had helped Corinne unpack her life. A treasured
cradle here, a rusty, worthless axe there. The things she owned told him that she struggled alone. Now they were in the house and the days were counting down. Whatever might happen between them would happen soon or not at all. But right now he just wanted it to be as it was.

  He visited the pool at the creek, as Corinne had, in the afternoon, and enjoyed being alone in the new outhouse he had finally finished. He would have taken it all for granted at the fort but now he really relished the simple things. It was exactly what he was looking for when he imagined being a pioneer.

  Corinne stood at the other end of the table in her apron, her skirt pulled across and tucked into her waistband. Her feet were bare and she moved around the room soundlessly on the cool clay floor, but for a soft humming that Lee could barely hear.

  She scooped flour from one of her big jars and piled it directly onto the table. He had noticed that the heavy wooden slab of a tabletop had a distinct indentation on one end. Now he understood why. Corinne cut a lump of lard into the flour and then sprinkled it lightly with water. She moved efficiently and with a gentle purpose.

  Lee looked at the cradle they had set on the hearth. He imagined it with a child, warm near the stove. Corinne had a smudge of flour on her cheek. The child he imagined did as well.

  Corinne rolled out her dough, and lifted it gently into a battered pie tin, a tin that Lee was sure had held a hundred pies. She had stacks of them. Each more banged and battered than the next. They stood stacked in the cabinet barely fitting into one another.

  She moved across the room to the stove, sprinkling a bit of flour over the slices of apple that filled a heavy pot. She stirred, wiped her hands on her apron and then stirred again.

  Lee felt somehow suspended in time. He watched her take the filling and pour it bubbling into the crust. Quickly she set the top in place and skillfully crimped the edges.

  It was a perfect pie and she’d done it almost effortlessly. The pie sat on the table, filled with apples with the crust high over the fruit. She picked it up and bent over to slide it into the hot oven. She stood up and saw him watching her.

  “I hope you like it,” she said, smiling.

  Lee smiled, but did not say a word.

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  Mince perked his ears at the sound of hooves in the yard, sprung to his feet and approached the door with a low growl. Corinne went for her bag and the gun, commanding him to stay inside. Lee got to his feet, opened the door and walked out.

  “Hello!” he called to the rider, offering his hand.

  “Why are you out of uniform, Lieutenant?” Tupper Hawkins did not accept Lee’s outstretched hand.

  “Excuse me?” Lee Highland let his hand fall to his side. “I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Tupper Hawkins, not that it matters.” He leaned over in his saddle and spit. “What matters is you takin’ this land illegally. You ought to be ashamed sendin’ that woman out to claim your parcel for you and then buildin’ this fancy place so everyone can see.”

  From the doorway Corinne recognized the man. “He’s the one,” she said. “He was here the day I made the claim.”

  Highland narrowed his eyes. “Is that so, Mr. Hawkins? You looking to cause trouble?”

  “I saw y’all together the day before the land rush. You were showin’ her where to go. You think I’m a fool?”

  “She knew where she wanted to go before she even arrived,” Lee said and took a step towards Hawkins. “I don’t owe you an explanation, sir. You are wrong. I am out of uniform because I am on leave and I am here helping this woman. This is none of your concern.”

  “Get off my land!” Corinne called out from the doorway. She spoke softly to Mince who began advancing on the man with a low growl.

  “Call off your dog!” Tupper spat.

  “You had better leave,” Highland said, uncertain whether or not Mince would attack.

  Tupper Hawkins raised his gun and aimed at the dog and Corinne’s gun fired. The report of the weapon startled Highland. Hawkins lowered his weapon, turned and galloped off. Mince took after him, nipping at the heels of his horse.

  Corinne’s shrill whistle pierced the night and Mince returned from the darkness and sat obediently at her side.

  “You could have killed him,” Lee said, still surprised that she had fired her weapon. “Or me.”

  “That didn’t happen. There was no chance of that happenin’. That shot went clear over his head.” Corinne said as they all went back inside.

  “I think you had better tell me exactly what happened that day,” Lee sat down in the chair across from her at the table. “All of it.”

  “Desperate men do desperate things, Corinne.” Lee said after listening to her story.

  “He hasn’t lifted a finger on the land he has. We’ve passed it several times and it’s a mess. I know his kind. I fell for one of them once.”

  Lee thought it unlikely that Hawkins would return in the near future but he was concerned about many of the things Corinne had told him. He decided he needed to set Hawkins straight.

  Lee watched Corinne take her pie from the oven and sat back in his chair eager to enjoy their first evening in the house together despite Hawkins’ intrusion earlier.

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Corinne watched closely as she set a slice of the apple pie in front of Lee. He lifted the plate, examined the contents thoughtfully and then set it down in front of himself.

  “Is somethin’ wrong?” she asked nervously.

  “Not at all,” he said, smiling up at her.

  “Why are you doin’ that? Lookin’ it over that way?”

  “I’m judging it,” he said. “It’s good practice for the contest.” He leaned over the plate and turned it again.

  “You’re not goin’ to be a judge!” Corinne was growing exasperated.

  “No,” he said. “But you are going to be judged. You want to stay cool and show confidence.”

  “Just eat the pie!” she said. She noticed he turned the pie with the point away from him. He broke into the crust at one edge. Superstitions, Corinne thought. A man who ate the pie from the point would remain a bachelor forever according to the lore. She doubted he had ever heard the wives’ tale.

  Now he held up the pie in front of his face and inspected it again. Corinne had had enough.

  “Oh for heaven’s sake,” she stood up and paced the room.

  Lee popped the piece into his mouth.

  Corinne sat down on the bench and faced him.

  For all of his teasing and expectations he was surprised. Corinne’s apple pie was the most delicious he had ever tasted. Lee loved pie, especially apple. Any kind of apple. Tart or sweet, wild or cultivated, he loved them all. And none of them had ever tasted anything like Corinne’s. The crust fell away immediately, rich and buttery and flaky and light. Then he tasted the filling. It was rich and tangy sweet, with just the right consistency. When he bit into the fruit it was sweet but deliciously tart as well. But the thing that Lee had noticed most of all was the aroma of the pie. From the moment she had cut into the crust it filled the room, spicy and inviting. Was it cinnamon he detected, or the apples themselves? Before he had even tasted it, Lee expected something amazing.

  Corinne watched the smile spread across his face and when she leaned towards him expectantly he held up a finger to hush her and tasted another piece. She sat back in frustration and held her breath.

  He ate that piece and then another until the slice of pie was completely gone. Corinne was sure that he must have formed an opinion by now.

  “Say it,” she said. “I’ll bet you can’t tell me that isn’t the finest pie you’ve ever eaten in all of your life!”

  “Yes, easily the best,” he said.

  “Really?” She was on her feet again.

  “Corinne, that pie is so good, why, I can’t even call it pie. It’s too good to be called pie. It’s like apple heaven. Even better, apple perfection.”

  “You really think so?” She could
not contain herself.

  “I had high expectations. I admit it,” he said. “I’ve never eaten anything like it. No wonder you can earn a living baking pies. Corinne, I am quite impressed!”

  “Oh, thank you,” she said. “Look!” Corinne pulled a wooden box from inside the cabinet. Lee had seen it when they unpacked and thought it was some kind of recipe box.

  Corinne dumped the contents on the table. The box was full of blue ribbons. They were all neatly stacked and many were several years old, Lee took them and laid them out neatly on the table.

  “You won all these?”

  “Daniel used to take my pies to contests. Daddy wouldn’t let me go, so he did it for me. Then later when Hank didn’t like my pies and my bakin’ Daniel would come and take them to fairs and such. He got all these for me.”

  “How could anyone not like your pies? Corinne, they are superb.”

  “I don’t think it was really about the pies, exactly. With daddy I think it was about punishin’ me and with Hank, well Hank only liked what Hank liked.” Corinne stood up and walked around the room. “I’m real nervous this time because, well, I never have been there, to a contest.”

  Lee watched her pacing. “You have never been there to receive any of these?”

  “Not a one,” Corinne admitted.

  “Then this will be something special,” he said.

  “Actually,” she began nervously. “I was thinkin’ you could take the pies the day of the contest. If I win you could get the ribbons and if not, then that’s that.”

  “No,” he said firmly.

  “No?” Corinne was surprised.

  “Of course not. You’re going to win ribbons and you should be there to accept them. Why wouldn’t you want to be there?”