Rachel stood, beckoned him in, and pointed to the milk bucket. “I haven’t finished milking. Julia wanted to learn how. Mind showing her so I can start cooking?”
Shaking her head was impossible, for Everett would see her, so she widened her eyes and mouthed a big “No!” She was sure Rachel understood the gesture, but the woman’s smile only grew.
Dex came around the stall corner with a few harnesses in his grasp.
Rachel laced her hand through her husband’s nearest arm. “Come, Dex. They’re getting the milk. I’ll have breakfast done shortly so you two can get to work.”
He grunted in affirmation and exited the barn beside her.
Julia swallowed hard and kept her hands tucked into the folds of her skirt. She stepped forward and then turned to face Everett.
He bit his lip.
“You don’t have to teach me now if you don’t want to.”
“Do you want to learn, or is Rachel pushing you into it?”
“Oh no.” She shook her head. “I want to learn.”
“All right, then.” He walked over and settled himself onto a three-legged stool and leaned into Daisy’s side. “Come here, and you can watch.”
Julia squatted next to him.
He dropped his gaze. “You place your hand up top here and walk your fingers down like this. Aim the milk into the bucket.” He alternated squirting milk from two teats. His swift movements filled the bottom of the pail. It didn’t look difficult. She was embarrassed for asking.
He stroked Daisy’s flank and stood. “Your turn.”
“That looks easy.”
“It might be harder than you think.”
Julia settled herself beside the cow and reached under. Daisy sidestepped. The cow was a giant compared to her. Fear of doing something wrong and being stepped on crept in.
“She just startled. Your hands are probably cold.”
They were, in fact, icy. Julia rubbed her hands together before creeping back to Daisy’s side. Tucking the bucket between her knees like Everett had, she attempted to keep the material of her skirts covering her bare feet. Why hadn’t she taken the time to put on boots? She reached under to grab a teat and pulled. A dribble plopped into the bucket. Pulling harder with her other hand, the same amount of milk came out, and the trickle hit the ground.
She turned to Everett for advice.
“Kind of walk your fingers down. And watch where you’re aiming.”
She tried again with more success and then applied herself. She would fill the bucket. But after a few minutes, her hands ached, yet she hadn’t gotten close to the amount Everett had milked in less time.
He stooped and felt the cow’s udder. “Feel. It’s not soft. You go until the udder’s soft.”
Julia blew the hair from her face.
He let out a sharp exhale. His eyes shut, and he ran his hand down his face.
Why hadn’t Rachel shown her how to do this? The man was exasperated with her in less than a few minutes. Was he as embarrassed for her as she was herself? Her lips were dry, so she licked them. A swallow couldn’t wet her parched throat. “I’ll get it done.” She went back to the cow with a vengeance.
He coughed and stood. “Easier. Smoother.”
Finally figuring how to use her thumb to the best advantage, she let go of her trapped breath and filled the bucket at a slow but steady pace.
“Doing good.”
A smile crept onto her lips. She was doing well. The steadily rising liquid’s warm earthy smell made her empty stomach rumble. She looked to see if Everett heard, but he was no longer standing beside her.
She kept at the milking until the udder felt soft like he said it was supposed to. Standing to stretch her back, she waited for her arms to recover enough to heft the bucket to the house.
She patted Daisy. “Thanks, girl, for putting up with me.” She scratched at the cow’s spotted side. Why had Everett left? Rachel’s incredulity at learning that she didn’t know how to milk a cow came back to her. “Maybe he thinks I can’t do this.”
Daisy answered with a low cry that ended with a “bleh.”
Julia tickled her behind the ear. “You think so too, eh?” She hefted the bucket. “But look here, I’ve got a full pail. I’ll get better, if you’re patient with me, that is.”
But would Everett be patient enough? He said he wanted a helper, but he didn’t seem eager to have one.
———
Everett shut the barn door behind him without a sound. Didn’t she know she was indecent? Hair tumbling about her shoulders. Not even wearing stockings. When she blew that strand of bed-mussed hair from her face, he’d been wildly tempted to tuck it behind her ear to see how the brown wavy strand felt between his fingers.
He’d been too close to her. Had she heard his heart thumping when she’d licked her lips? It was unfair how her looks messed with his head. He’d stood and waited until she seemed to milk well enough that she’d drain Daisy tolerably. Then he had to get out of there. Though before he left with Dex to round up the calves, he’d have to come back to make sure she’d milked the cow dry.
Smoke rose from the Stantons’ chimney, and the smell of fried pork called to his near-empty stomach. Inside, he sat across the table from Dex, who was twisting dogbane plant fibers into rope, his booted foot propped on the wall beside him. Rachel hummed as she piled crisp bacon on a plate, slapping little hands attempting to grab slices while they still sizzled.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Everett’s head snapped up at Dex’s question. “Nothing.”
Dex grabbed more fibers to splice into his cord. “Then why are you already in here?”
Rachel set the plate of meat in the middle of the table. “Talk to her. She won’t bite.”
Couldn’t Dex have brought this up outside? “I reckon I just don’t have much to say.”
“Honestly?” Rachel put her hands on her hips. “You’re all of a sudden reserved?”
To prove it, he kept his mouth shut. He wouldn’t remind Rachel in front of the children how all of this was her fault.
Rachel stood, waiting.
Dex waved his cord at him. “Find something to say to her.”
Rachel returned to the cookstove and cracked eggs into a bowl. “It’s not like she’s stupid or repulsive.”
Wishing there was a way to close his ears, Everett settled for closing his eyes.
Dex cleared his throat. When he gave in and looked at his friend, a glint in Dex’s eye flashed. “Well, maybe just a bit repulsive.”
He groaned. It would help if she were.
Rachel brought a stack of plates and silverware to the table. “John, please set the table. Ambrose, get the napkins.” She turned to Everett. “You’re staying for dinner tonight—no arguing. Won’t hurt you none to talk to her over dinner.”
“I’m sorry, Rachel. If I’m still here I’ll take lunch, but I’m expecting my lumber this evening or tomorrow. Want to make sure they put it in the right spot.”
Dex left off fiddling with his rope. “So you done bought everything? Enough for a house?”
Everett nodded. “Yes. But next week, we’ll just put up the barn. I’ll do the house myself.”
“Why not let us help you put up the frame while we’re there?”
“Not sure what I want yet.” Everett glanced around the Stantons’ three-room home. The living area felt large until the entire family crowded in. The kids’ loft above and the bedroom behind the table weren’t much in space, but nicely done. To make a house as nice as this one, he’d need time. If Julia did marry him, they’d have to make do with his rickety cabin—not that she’d be willing to live in such a place, especially since his animals would have nicer housing.
The door creaked open. Julia entered, fancy leather shoes on and hair coiled at her neck. Her face glowed as she set the bucket by her feet, sloshing milk on the floor. “I did it, Rachel. What do I do now?”
Rachel instructed her on how to strain the milk. Something any chil
d in Kansas knew how to do without being told. Julia didn’t belong here, but rather in some fancy house, in a big city like New York or Boston—where she came from.
Why had she left? No matter what the answer, it wouldn’t change facts. Julia might find a few farm chores exhilarating, but they would turn into drudgery all too soon. He’d find out how committed she was to the idea of being a farmer’s wife at the barn raising. One glance at his farm, and she’d surely run.
Resources: bethanyhouse.com/AnOpenBook
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Melissa Jagears, an ESL teacher by trade, is a stay-at-home mother on a tiny Kansas farm with a fixer-upper house. She’s a member of ACFW and CROWN fiction marketing. Her passion is to help Christian believers mature in their faith and judge rightly. Find her online at www.melissajagears.com, Facebook, Pinterest, and Goodreads.
Love by the Letter (An Unexpected Brides Novella) Page 13
