Meanwhile, he was stuck in a situation he wasn't sure how to deal with. Viola pushed wayward tendrils away from her face and let out a tired sigh. She didn't attempt to converse with him any longer, her shoulders were rounded as she scuttled back and forth.
When she placed a cup of coffee in front of him, she didn't try to make eye contact.
While Abigail had been there, he'd overheard her laughter and speaking animatedly about whatever they discussed. She stood straighter, her eyes sparkling at having someone to talk to. It wasn't fair to treat her as if she were invisible. He knew it. Understood it even, yet couldn't fathom how to keep from getting too close once he opened up even just a bit.
When he'd said she was beautiful, it was the truth. Viola was a breathtaking woman who deserved a happy marriage.
"Did you enjoy my sister's visit?"
A dish rattled when it slipped from her hands. She looked to him with a puzzled expression. "Uh...yes of course. She is a lovely person."
He nodded and looked back to his coffee. "I can take you there ever so often so you have someone to talk with and such."
She kept her head bent, her concentration on the task before her. "It would be very nice. Thank you."
Seeming to feel ill at ease at his attempt at conversation, she dried her hands and went to the bedroom leaving him with his coffee, as was their nightly custom. They never sat at the table and drank coffee together and discuss the day. She'd attempted at first. When he'd only responded with one-word answers, Viola had stopped.
Had he broken her spirit? The feisty verbal woman he'd married had changed into more of a shadow. He couldn't determine if the heaviness in his chest was guilt or condemnation. Instead of giving in, he went to the bedroom after Viola.
She sat with her back to him in a chair facing the hearth. Her sniffle and wiping away at her face made him stop in his tracks. She was crying.
"Did I do something?"
She tensed at his presence wiping her face with swift motions. "No. You didn't."
Joshua wasn't sure what to do or say. They were like complete strangers. He knew very little about her feelings or personality, as he'd not taken the time to get to know her. Did she cry often when leaving him to drink his coffee at night?
"Why are you crying?" He neared and stood next to the chair, unable to reach out to her.
Her eyes were shiny with tears when she looked up at him, her small nose was reddened and even in her sadness she was beautiful. "I was saying my prayers. Just overly emotional today I suppose." She stood and attempted to move past him, he took her arm to stop her. Her gaze flew to his face. "Did you need something? I can warm up the stew."
Joshua cupped her jaw and held her face up to him. Her eyes widened, like a fawn caught unaware, she froze not moving. He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her.
At first she didn't respond, seemed too shocked at his actions to do so. Finally she softened and placed her hands on his chest allowing the kiss to linger.
He pulled her against him and Viola rested her head on his chest. "I don't like to see you sad." His voice sounded husky. He wanted more than anything to take her to their bed and make love to her. Let her know with actions how much he desired her. How hard it was night after night to lie next to her.
"I'm fine. I promise." She pushed away and gave him a wobbly smile. "Now I best get ready for bed." In an instant, the moment was broken between them.
*****
The next day Joshua tested his arm. He'd removed the splint that morning and although it felt weak from lack of use, it didn't hurt when he moved it. A group of riders neared and he moved away from the stables to see if he could identify them.
It was Larry Buchanan and his two sons. The man often came to purchase horses for his growing ranch. His sons too pampered to go after wild horses themselves never came, the man usually arrived with farmhands. The men dismounted and tethered their steeds next to the stable.
After they all shook hands in greeting, Buchanan went straight to the reason for his visit. "McKade. I have a need for six horses. Going to start breeding them myself." Buchanan puffed his chest and looked toward the corrals.
The oldest son, John, went to the corral and leaned on the fence. "Nice horses you've got here. I like the one with the black markings."
Joshua and the father went to the fence to join him. The youngest, Billy, seemed more interested in watching Viola who fed the chickens.
The men discussed the purchase while studying the horses. Joshua kept an eye on Billy who'd gone over to speak to Viola.
He didn't like the way he stood so close to her and when she smiled at something he said, his jaw clenched.
"Quite a beauty," Buchanan got his attention, the older man looking toward Billy and Viola. "Heard about her when you and she were in town."
When Joshua glared at him, the man lifted his hands and laughed. "No offense meant."
Just then Billy rejoined them, a wide smile on his face. "You're a lucky man, McKade. Mrs. Viola is very nice, she said she'll bake a cake for Ma's birthday." He looked to his father. "Told her you were thinking of doing something special for her birthday."
"Mighty nice of her," Buchanan replied he looked to Joshua. "Why don't you bring your wife on Friday evening? We will have a special supper for the wife, it'll give the women a chance to get to know each other."
Joshua nodded, not sure if Viola would want to go with him. "I'll see what Viola says. Thank you."
They proceeded with the choosing of the horses and Buchanan left an hour later with six horses. The man would be back in a year. He'd breed the wrong ones and the mixes would not be enough to garner any money from traders.
Joshua walked to the rain barrel and washed up. Afterwards he caught a reflection of himself in the windowpane. He looked twenty years older with haggard hair and untrimmed beard.
Viola remained a distance away, she walked in the nearby field with Grace. On occasion she stopped and bent, seemed to be picking berries or something of the sort.
He took the opportunity to duck into the house and grab clean clothes and soap. He'd wash up in the stream and take some time to trim up his beard.
Chapter Twelve
Viola didn't know what to make of Joshua's absence at suppertime. She looked through the window and didn't see him in the corral or anywhere by the bunkhouse. She'd already walked to the stables and searched not finding him there. If he'd left with the Buchanans while she was out for a walk, he could have left a note or something.
Frustrated, she went back outside and searched the corral where a dozen horses grazed. Just then she caught sight of him.
He walked back from the direction of the stream. Over his shoulder a large drying cloth and a bundle of clothing in his hand. He'd trimmed his beard very short and cut his hair. She turned and went back inside. Whatever he did, had nothing to do with her, of that she was sure.
When the door opened and closed after she began to plate the dinner, she kept her back to it.
"I'll just put these things up," Joshua told her making her wonder why he'd finally decided to speak more. No doubt it had to do with his sister's visit. Either her or her husband had said something to him about their lack of communication.
She placed the plates on the table, and then followed with cups of coffee before joining him. Her eyes downcast she said a prayer and then lifted the coffee to her lips. Just as she did, Viola caught sight of her husband and was startled.
"This is very good." Joshua said, his attention on his plate. When he lifted his eyes to meet hers, she felt her mouth fall open.
The man was breathtakingly handsome. She'd already noticed his bright hazel eyes, yet she'd never seen how thick and long his lashes were. The beard had disguised his chiseled jawline and full lips. Viola looked back to her food suddenly feeling awkward and wishing to be able to dash from the room.
"I cut my hair as best I could. May need you to touch up the back." Joshua got up from the table and poured more coffe
e. "My arm still smarts when I lift it."
She finally was able to speak. "Yes, of course."
They ate in silence for a few minutes; several times she snuck glances at him. It was strange to have lived with him for almost a month and finally seeing his face. It was as if she ate dinner with a stranger this night. The thought shook her. After all they were virtual strangers, neither knew more than superficial facts about the other.
After they'd finished, she retrieved a comb and scissors. "I'll see about cutting your hair now."
He sat back on the chair, his gaze following her as she moved. It was uncomfortable to be under scrutiny after so much time being ignored. Viola was thankful when she moved behind him. His hair was thick with a slight wave to it. She combed it back and cut straight across the bottom. "Look down so I can trim the back." It felt intimate to touch his head and hair. A shiver ran up her arms when the strands of hair slipped between her fingers.
"How short do you want it?"
His wide shoulders lifted and lowered. "It doesn't matter. Up to you."
Although she liked the way the longer hair framed his face it would fly too much into his face as he worked. With quick snips, she cut it around his ears and then cut the back to just above his collar. Thankfully, she'd learn to cut hair from her mother who'd taught both she and Sara, practicing on their father and local boys who'd come to them for trims.
Finally she was satisfied with the result at the back and rounded to stand in front of him. "Close your eyes."
He did and she took a moment to study his face. Not wanting him to see how much his looks affected her, she made quick work of ensuring his hair would not fall into his eyes. Once she was satisfied at the results, she moved away and placed the objects on top of the table.
He reached up and ran his fingers through the strands. "Feels better, thank you."
"You're welcome." Viola found the broom and began to sweep the hair from the floor. Once finished, she sat down to drink a cup of tea.
"Billy Buchanan said you offered to bake a cake for his ma."
What if he didn't approve? It didn't occur to her to have asked him first. "Do you object to it?"
"No. It's nice of you to offer. They've invited us to the celebration."
The idea of meeting other people in town thrilled her. Judging by Joshua's furrowed brows, she didn't think he wanted to attend. "I'd love to meet more people here in Colter Valley."
"And to see Billy again?"
"What?" Viola could only gawk at Joshua. All desire for her tea gone, she pushed back from the table. "I won't respond to the question. I need fresh air."
His hand on her wrist stopped her from moving past. "I apologize. It just seemed you and he had plenty to say to each other."
Viola snatched her hand away and spun to face him. "You have rights over me as my husband. I understand and accept it. What I don't accept is how you pick and choose when you will act like one. I go days without speaking to anyone except for the dog. Every day I am by myself. When you come home, it's as if you go out of your way to avoid me. Other than the last couple days, you have never once taken any notice of me, of what I do. Nor do you make any effort to have a conversation with me. Yes I spoke to the man, and yes I enjoyed our conversation. I admit to being starved for companionship. Don't you ever accuse me of low morals for speaking to someone in your presence. That, Joshua McKade, I will not accept or ever stand for."
She stalked outside and kept going until she got to the fence. Angry tears spilled and she didn't bother wiping them away. Instead she paced back and forth, not sure what to do. The last thing she wanted was to go back inside and be around him. To sleep beside him unthinkable, she'd rather sleep on the floor with the dog.
The light from the door being opened and his footfalls irritated her more than not. She contemplated running off, then thought better of it, not giving in to childish urges.
It was best she leave, perhaps write to Mrs. Pratmore and ask she help her find a position as a cook. Or her friend from the train could come fetch her. This was not going to work. It was hard enough to be so lonely, but to be subjected to her husband's silent treatment followed by accusations was more than she could bear.
"I didn't mean to offend you." Joshua stood directly in her path. "Suppose I got a bit jealous."
Flabbergasted, she gawked at him. "I don't understand you. I am sleeping in the guest room tonight." She attempted to walk away when he took her by the elbow.
"Would you please accept my apology?"
"What about the rest? Everything I said?" She looked into his eyes noting confusion.
He let out a long breath. "It's been hard for me to move into this situation. Harder than I expected."
"Have you even tried?" She was not going to let him off the hook easily. If he was talking, it was time for her to get some answers. "It seems as if you prefer to sulk and hide from me rather than attempt to be my husband. I don't know what happened in your past. It's understandable to have to readjust to a second marriage. Joshua, I am a person with feelings. You don't have to do more than at least attempt to be my friend."
"Friend?" It was as if the idea had never occurred to him. He released her arm and looked away from her in silence.
Heartbroken, Viola walked away and into the house. She grabbed her nightgown and brush and went to the spare bedroom. As if Grace sensed her need for companionship, the little dog followed her and hopped onto the bed beside her.
Viola petted its head, her heart heavy. Too restless to remain in bed for long, she stood and went to the small window to look outside. Although it was too early to go to bed, she did not want to be around Joshua, so she'd remain in the guest room as long as it suited her.
She tossed and turned all night unable to sleep. Her mind kept revisiting all the events of the day. Mentally, she went over her meager savings. The money she'd brought with her would not cover passage to return east. If anything it was barely enough to leave Montana. Her options were very limited. The idea her life was set and knowledge there was nothing to be done about it. She had to make the best out of it. Maybe she'd come up with something to do to occupy her time besides chores and gardening. Perhaps learn to ride and go visit people on her own. She'd move into the guest room, and other than cooking and such, she would not share anytime with him. Feeling better at making some decisions, sleep finally edged in.
The next morning, it was after he'd left she finally emerged from the guest room hating how guilty she felt for not cooking breakfast for him. At the same time, she wasn't sure if facing him would have been a good idea. Her feelings were too raw for it.
She'd clean the house today, gather all her sewing, and take it to the guest room. After feeding the chickens and doing whatever chores remained, she would retire to the small room.
An hour later, she dragged a rocking chair into the room next to a small table she'd moved there earlier. Satisfied at the coziness of the room, she went to the kitchen to make coffee only to stumble to a stop at seeing Joshua standing in the center of the room.
Just then she noticed a cup on the kitchen table. There were three sprigs with wildflowers in it. Joshua tried to make amends. She huffed and walked away. It would take more than some weeds to make up for hurting her feelings.
She went outside to feed the two pigs. "Need any help?" She jumped at hearing his voice so near. Deep in thought she'd not heard him approach.
"No, thank you."
He took the bucket from her hand and met her gaze. Viola looked away. "I better get started on supper." She walked way not giving him a chance to speak.
She placed a plate and cup of coffee in front of him and went back to the sink.
"Aren't you having dinner?" He gave her a curious look, his eyes going between the food and her. "Sit please."
"I am not hungry." She took her cup of coffee and went toward the hallway. "I will clean up later."
He didn't try to stop her and although she knew it was justifiable to be angry, it
felt wrong to leave him to eat alone. Nonetheless, it was hard to sit with him day after day while he did his best to ignore her. As the days passed, she was sure it would become a habit to eat separately.
When she washed up the dishes, he walked into the kitchen. "Do you plan not to eat supper together any longer?"
She met his gaze. "Why would it matter? You don't want me here. Being married to me is something you were forced into. I'm trying my best to make things easier for both of us. I can't continue to be with you night after night and attempt to pretend its normal."
"I apologize for it." He let out a long breath. "Would you please join me for dinner?" He motioned to the table. "The least we can do is eat together in the evenings."
"To what ends?"
He visibly swallowed. "You said we could try to be friends. I can try."
"Give me some time to think things over." She moved away and continued cleaning. A few moments later he'd gone.
Sadness engulfed her. Viola stared straight ahead through the window. Joshua walked to stand by the corral and one of the horses moved to him. The animals seemed drawn to him. She'd noticed on occasion, whenever he neared the corral horses would move to him. Grace yapped running in circles in an attempt to get his attention and he kneeled down and scratched her head.
He was not a bad man. Joshua had many good qualities. Yet there was no doubt he did not care for her as his wife. When it came to her, he'd rather she didn't exist in his life. She closed her eyes as the hurt edged into her. Her feelings were raw and bleeding. There was nothing she could do to change things. At least in the moment it felt as if all was lost.
She dried her hands and took one last look around before going to the guest room.
*****
"I am going to town. Have to get some feed. Would you like to accompany me?" Joshua sat at the kitchen table the next morning eating.
Of course she wanted to go to town. To speak to people and see activity sounded lovely. Perhaps purchase some sugar and flour. However the thought of spending four hours next to him on the wagon made her chest constrict. "No, thank you." She moved past the table and proceeded to make coffee.
Where the River Flows Page 7
