Train Station Bride

by Bush, Holly

  She sat back on her haunches. “No one is looking at me, Jake. What a silly thing to think.”

  Jake sat up and touched his head gingerly. “Trust me, Julia. The men have been waiting for another glimpse of you since the day I brought you home. If any of them had come on the porch instead of me, they’d a gotten a whole lot more than a glimpse.”

  She tilted her head. “Don’t be angry. I was hot and dirty and wanted to wash up. No one saw me.”

  Jake straightened out one arm behind him and leaned close to Julia. His eyes dropped to the low scoop of her silk under things and all that beautiful pale flesh behind it. He ran his finger down her neck, to her collarbone and trailed slowly down, stopping when his knuckle touched breast. Julia’s eyes dropped, and she let out a slow sigh.

  “I know men that’d kill to see a woman like you, looking like this.”

  “Dinner’ll be ready about seven,” she whispered and fluttered her lashes.

  “What did I trip over anyway?”

  “The wash water. I couldn’t carry it any further than the door. It was too heavy. And I dropped a potato on the way to the sink. That’s what I kicked when I went to catch you,” Julia said.

  Jake was sitting in a puddle of foul water on his kitchen floor. His head hurt, and he had hit his behind with a bang. His wife was too weak to carry a bucket of wash water, and his dinner wouldn’t be ready till near his bedtime.

  “That’ll be fine,” he said.

  “I better get started then,” Julia said.

  Jake rose, looked her up and down and limped out the door. Julia was a far cry from a thick-waisted, farmwoman from Sweden, but Jake didn’t imagine the sight of Inga’s broad shoulders would have turned his mind to mush like Julia.

  “What happened, Boss?” Slim asked as he limped back into the barn.

  “Kicked a bucket of wash water Mrs. Shelling couldn’t lift,” Jake replied. “I don’t want to see my wife carrying anything heavier than her skirts. Got it boys?”

  The men smiled and nodded in unison.

  * * *

  Jake went in the house, near seven o’clock. He’d washed up at the bunkhouse, anticipating sitting down with Julia. And going upstairs with Julia. But she wasn’t in the kitchen. Julia was slouched awkwardly in one of the horsehair chairs in front of the fireplace. His bride was sound asleep. Instead of being angry the kitchen floor was still damp and the table still unset, Jake tilted his head at the picture before him. She’d tuckered herself out. Cobwebs hung from her curls, and she had missed a spot of dirt on the tip of her nose when she washed. Jake lifted her from the seat into his arms, and she snuggled against him.

  Julia woke as he lifted her. “There’s soup on the counter cooling, Jake. And fresh bread,” she whispered.

  He kissed the top of her head as he carried her up the steps. “Should a left it on the stove. Stay warm that way.”

  She yawned. “Potato soup is just as good cold.”

  Jake didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. Who ate their soup cold? And what was he going to eat with it? Was there meat?

  “I sugared some berries that Flossie brought.” Julia opened her eyes as Jake laid her down on the bed. She sat up and began to unbutton her dress. “No better meal than soup and fresh fruit on a hot day.” She smiled up at him lazily as she unpinned her hair.

  Jake watched his wife undress. Julia bent down and inched her stockings down her pale legs and her hair swirled around them. She shimmied out of everything but her chemise.

  “Think I’ll just sleep in this if you don’t mind. It’s too hot for a nightgown,” Julia said. She pulled the sheet up over herself. “I’m so sleepy. I hope you don’t mind eating alone. Tell me what you think of the soup. I’ve watched Cook make it hundreds of times. I think I got it just right.”

  Jake would have crawled in bed then and there, stomach growling to beat the band, but Julia was looking at him so hopefully, he couldn’t disappoint her.

  “I’m sure it’ll be just fine,” he said. Julia smiled and rolled onto her side.

  Jake sat down at the kitchen table with a bowl of cold soup, his sister’s bread and a dish of berries. He was going to have to eat the whole pot of the blamed stuff to fill up. But he would admit it was good. Jake dunked his bread and sopped up the bottom of the bowl and cleaned his dish of strawberries. He wasn’t full, but he didn’t care. The sight of Julia had made his mind wander from the hunger in his stomach to a far greater hunger situated below his belt buckle. He could hardly wake her up, her looking so tired and all, but he could sit at the table and envision those legs sticking out of a thigh-length chemise. Jake closed up the house and headed to bed. If nothing else he could hold her. Jake crept into his bedroom.

  “Did you like the soup?” Julia asked.

  “Never heard of eating soup cold, but it was good. I figured you’d be sound asleep by now.”

  “I’m tired, but I was waiting for you,” she said.

  Jake pulled his pants down and smiled. “Were you?” Julia nodded. He climbed into bed and pulled her close. “I thought you’d be tired.”

  “I am,” Julia said as she stroked the side of his face. “But I don’t suppose it’ll take longer than last night, though.”

  Jake didn’t know whether to be insulted or thrilled. He settled for being happy as hell his wife was inching her foot up his leg. “I think I might be able to stretch things out for you, Mrs. Shelling.”

  “Whatever suits you, Mr. Shelling, is fine with me,” she said.

  Chapter Eight

  Julia awoke the next morning just as the sunlight began to filter in the window. Jake was dressing and a rooster was crowing outside. She lay still watching him run a hand through his hair.

  “You don’t have to get up quite yet,” he said.

  Julia sat up, stretched and yawned. “Yes, I do. Flossie and Harry will be here soon. They’re taking me to town.” Julia dropped her head, unsure of how to ask her husband for money. “Jake, I need to have some clothes more suited for here on the farm. I can cut my dresses down, but it seems a shame . . .”

  “Buy whatever you want, Julia. I have a charge at Snelling’s store,” he said.

  Julia took a clean chemise out of a drawer and pulled the one she had slept in over her head. She stretched up, reached through the lace straps and shimmied her fresh under clothes down her body. She realized then her husband was watching her.

  “Buy every bolt they have as long as you promise me to get some more like that thing you’re putting on,” Jake said.

  Julia giggled. “I have twenty or more of these, Jake in every color. How silly you are. I need to make some plain skirts and blouses.” Julia picked out a dress with lavender flowers. She had a felt hat and green shoes that matched.

  “Get whatever you need, Julia. I imagine you’ll want to get some things for the house, too. Cramer’s sells furniture and rugs and such. Millie Taylor has a dress shop in town. Maybe she’ll have some ready-made things you’d like.” Jake put his hat on his head. “Get whatever you want. I’ll stop by and pay them next week.”

  “I can pick whatever I want for the house?” Julia asked with a smile.

  Jake kissed her nose. “Whatever you want.”

  * * *

  Julia bought blouses at Millie Taylor’s. Fabric for skirts at Snelling’s as well as melting chocolate and bright yellow material for curtains and a deep red and tan check for tablecloths. Old Mrs. Snelling had smiled smugly when she saw Julia. Julia pulled her list from her bag, and soon Jacob Snelling and his mother had to hurry to keep up with her demands. By the time she had ordered everything she needed, the Snellings and Inga were tripping over each other to pile her items on the worn wooden counter. She nearly filled Harry’s wagon at Cramer’s. Three colors of paint, flowered wallpaper, lamps and a round braided rug in gold and browns. Mr. Cramer was tallying up her order when Flossie came in the store.

  “About ready, Julia? Harry’s itching to get home,” Flossie said.

>   Julia pulled on her lace gloves and turned to Flossie. “Oh, yes. I’m nearly finished.” She turned to the balding, rotund man behind the counter. “Thank you so much, Mr. Cramer, for all your help. And you think the chandelier will be here in few weeks?”

  Morton Cramer was smiling and nodding. “Yes, yes, Mrs. Shelling. In fact when it gets here I’ll have my boy deliver it. Anything else you need, you just ask.”

  Julia stood with Flossie on the sidewalk in front of Cramer’s watching Harry try to squeeze all of Julia’s purchases into his wagon. “Everyone was so nice. Even old Mrs. Snelling.”

  “Probably because Jake never spent more than two nickels at a time in town,” Flossie said.

  “Do you think he’ll be angry?” Julia asked. “He told me this morning to buy anything I wanted.”

  “I don’t imagine for long, if he is,” Flossie replied.

  Julia climbed up on the wagon seat after Flossie. “He did tell me to get anything I wanted or needed. And his house, well, it needs quite a bit of work.”

  “Jake told you told get anything you needed?” Harry asked. “Even at Cramer’s?”

  Julia plopped her hands in her lap and smiled as she tilted her head to the sun. “That’s what he said.”

  * * *

  Jake came in from checking the south fields near four o’clock. He had trouble all day concentrating on the problems Slim was talking about. They needed rain soon to save some of the fields on higher ground. A bug of some kind was making headway into the stored corn for the pigs and cows. Two of the hands had run off leaving Jake mighty short-handed with harvest coming soon. But he found himself nearly running to get to the house when he and Slim pulled into the yard. Jake flew through the back door, grabbed Julia from behind, swung her around and kissed her.

  “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said.

  Julia laughed. “Hardly with my hair pulled up and paint on my nose.”

  Jake leaned back to look at Julia and then glanced around the living room. There were open buckets of paint and packages still tied with string. “What are you doing?”

  Julia giggled. “Why painting, silly. What do you think?”

  There was junk everywhere, and Jake didn’t smell anything cooking. He should have been mad but Julia was grinning ear to ear. “I see you got some things from Snelling’s store.”

  Julia whirled around from item to item, showing her purchases to Jake and explaining her plans. “I know I should have put everything away first, but I couldn’t help myself. I just had to get started right away. I’m so excited I couldn’t wait.”

  Jake chuckled. “I’ve never been excited about painting.”

  Julia picked up her brush and itched her nose with the back of her hand. “Well, I’ve never done it before, and I think I’m going to like it. I’m only painting the trim around the windows. I’m going to wallpaper everywhere else.”

  Jake turned around the room slowly. “Mother said she was going to wallpaper this room. I never got around to it after she died.”

  “We’re going to have to order some furniture when I’m done, Jake. There’s hardly anything to sit on but these old chairs.” Julia studied the room. “And I think I want tall cupboards on both sides of the fireplace to hold pictures and books. What do you think?”

  Jake watched her, hands on his hips. He didn’t know the first thing about decorations and such. “You do what ever you want, Julia.”

  Julia ran to her husband and threw herself into his arms.

  “Oh, Jake. Do you mean it? Anything I want? Flossie thought you might be mad I spent so much money, but there’s a lot to do.” She looked up at him. “I want to make your house a home. Where our children will grow up. Where Danny and Millie want to come and visit. Where we can sit in the evening and talk or read.”

  The vision Julia painted slammed into Jake and broad-sided him. A roaring fire, children playing, his wife sewing and he lounging in a chair proud as punch of his family. It was far and away more than he’d envisioned for he and Inga. He pulled Julia close in his arms.

  “I’m not mad. Flossie and Gloria have been after me for ages to do something with the homestead. I’ll admit I didn’t know the first thing about it. And I’m sure you do. Did you get yourself something to wear, too?” he asked.

  Julia looked down at herself. “This thing is stained beyond repair. I’m going to make it my work dress. I got fabric for skirts and ready-made blouses at Mrs. Taylor’s. I had the most marvelous day.” Jake’s stomach growled. “And don’t you worry about dinner. You go on out and do what ever it is you do, and I’ll have dinner on the table at six.”

  Six was later than Jake was accustomed to eating, but Julia seemed so pleased with herself, he didn’t say a word. “I don’t smell anything cooking. What are we having?”

  “Mrs. Snelling had jarred mayonnaise for sale. I guess that’s quite a treat out here. I bought a jar and made egg salad. We’ll have sandwiches and soup for dinner. I bought a chicken, too, for Sunday dinner.” Julia cocked her head. “I don’t really know what to do with it, though.” She looked up at Jake wide-eyed. “It still has the feathers on it.”

  Jake laughed and kissed her forehead. “I’ll clean it for you.”

  “Oh, thank you, Jake.” Julia kissed his cheek and picked up her paintbrush. “Now you run along. I have lots to do.”

  He had been summarily dismissed. His wife was busy painting, and he had to pluck a chicken. Jake didn’t care. When Julia smiled it lit up the room. Lit up his life. If fussing and wallpapering made her happy, by God he’d see she could do it everyday. Julia was dabbing paint around the windows and humming. Jake headed for the bunkhouse. Cook’d be serving up stew about now.

  * * *

  Julia worked everyday on the sitting room. She wandered around the rest of the house, imagining the colors she would use to brighten them. In the evening, she made intricate lace table scarves for Flossie and Gloria. If it hadn’t been for her sisters-in-law, she and Jake wouldn’t have had bread. Jake worked on his books or read as she sewed. Last night, he had helped her unroll the rug. The cream and white and green flowered paper looked beautiful on the walls. The dark green and tan braided rug matched perfectly. Julia sat pictures on the mantel and found a box of things that must have been Jake’s parents in a cupboard. She placed pewter candlesticks and a pipe that must have belonged to Jake’s father on the mantle.

  Julia heard Jake come in the house. She had browned butter and fried the trout Danny had caught and brought to her. Julia loved when Flossie brought her children with her to visit. Millie followed her around like a puppy. They had practiced walking correctly with books balanced on their heads and had ended up on the floor giggling. Julia sighed. Life was near perfect. Jake came in behind her and wrapped his arms about her waist.

  “Umm,” she sighed as she snuggled back against his chest. “I made fudge for dessert.”

  Jake worked his nose through Julia’s hair. “I was thinking about something else after dinner.”

  Julia giggled. That part of her marriage was perfect. Jake told her she was the most beautiful woman on the face of the earth. When he touched her and his eyes darkened as she imagined they were now, Julia believed it was possible. They made love every night, even when Julia thought she was too exhausted to move. Every time he touched her, she was convinced their loving could not get better. But it did. She was oddly not shy around him, and Jake seemed to enjoy that the most. She knew he watched her every morning pull on her stockings and every night unbind her hair. Even naked, Julia felt perfectly at ease. Occasionally, she would hear her mother’s voice in her head, chiding her for her lewd behavior. It grew increasing easier to ignore.

  “Mr. Shelling, really. We haven’t even eaten.” Jake was whispering a bawdy comment in her ear when she heard a knock at the door. “I wonder who that is. And at the front door yet. I don’t think I’ve ever opened your front door.”

  “Our front door, Julia. And I still can’t believe you painte
d it red, inside and out,” he said with a laugh.

  “Oh shush. It’ll look beautiful when I get the hallway and the outside of the house painted white.” Julia pulled away from Jake, straightened her hair and went to answer the second knock.

  The man standing there wore a checked suit and a bowler hat. Julia didn’t recognize him. But a sense of dread filled her.

  “Hello. May I help you?”

  “Julia Crawford?” the man asked.

  Julia’s palms had begun to sweat and she swallowed. “Yes.”

  The man swept his hat off of his head. “May I come in?”

  Jake pulled the door open further. “Who is it, Julia?”

  Julia’s perfect little life may well have been crashing down around her ears in the next second. Her voice quivered as she answered her husband. “I don’t know.”

  “Can I help you?” Jake asked.

  “I’m here to see Miss Crawford. These papers will testify to my legitimacy. I need to speak to her alone,” the man said to Jake as he held out an envelope.

  Jake put his arm around Julia.

  “Miss Crawford is now Mrs. Jake Shelling. My wife. Whatever concerns her concerns me.” Julia grabbed his hand, and he squeezed it hard.

  The man looked from one to the other. “May I come in?”

  “We’re getting ready to have supper. Can only give you a few minutes.” Jake stepped aside with Julia under his arm. He pointed to the horsehair chair in front of the fireplace and seated Julia in the other. Jake stood behind her with his hand on her shoulder.

  “What’s your name and what’s this all about?” he asked.

  “Frank Smith. I’m a representative of Miss Crawford’s father.” The man sat back. “William Crawford.”

  “Her name is Mrs. Shelling,” Jake said.

  The man’s head tilted. “From what I heard in town, her name was nearly Mrs. Jacob Snelling.”