by Leah Atwood
He sniffed. Sure enough, he smelled freshly baked bread. Following his nose, he trod to the kitchen. Spread out on the table were loaves of bread, pies, cookies, jars of jam, and canned vegetables. There was a note placed beside one of the pie tins.
Picking it up, he saw words scrawled in feminine handwriting.
Welcome home. Weatherton is glad to have you back. You will find firewood stacked behind the house and meat hanging in the smokehouse. We look forward to seeing you in church on Sunday.
God bless,
Weatherton Ladies Auxiliary
A sense of community and an overwhelming gratitude to be home filled him. His heart had never left this area, and he felt complete once again.
He wanted to show Tallie what the town had done for them. Leaving the house, he returned to the loaded-down wagon. His new bride was still sound asleep, and he couldn’t muster the urgency to wake her, even if she needed a more comfortable place to sleep.
There were a few more things inside the house on which he wanted to check. He went back in and looked at the living area. All the furniture his family had left behind still sat in the exact spots of six years ago. Ma hadn’t wanted to transport any of it, and Jeremiah believed it was because she didn’t want the memories. Pa’s death had hit her hard.
White sheets covered the upholstered settee and two arm chairs. He took a turn sitting on each one for a second. Still solid. Then he went to the bedrooms. A relieved sigh came out when he saw the mattress on what had been his parent’s bed. There had been so many new items to purchase, that he’d held off on a new mattress, certain one remained in the house.
And what if there hadn’t been? Where would your pregnant wife have slept? The unbidden thought reminded him he had to think for two now, not just himself. He still had some adjusting to do in that area. Satisfied and pleasantly surprised at the house’s condition, he returned to the wagon a second time. He grabbed the crate with their bedding, hoisted it off the wagon, and carried it to the bedroom.
An unexpected wave of nostalgia and longing slammed into him when he removed the lid. On the very top of the pile was the quilt Ma had given to him days before her death. Her great-grandma had crafted the quilt, and it had been passed down to the youngest daughter of each generation. Since the only girl Ma had birthed lived just a few days, the quilt went to Jeremiah, the youngest child.
“When you get married, give this to your bride,” Ma had whispered, almost too weak to talk.
A lump in his throat accompanied the memories. No matter how glad he was to be at the family ranch, he still missed Ma and Joseph. He blinked several times and pulled himself to the present. He had a new life now. The ranch, a wife, and a baby on the way. There were great things in his future, and he had no cause to be sullen.
He pulled a set of white linens from the crate and made the bed. They probably should have been washed first, but there’d be time for that tomorrow. For now, he just wanted Tallie in a place she could rest that wouldn’t cause cramps and stiff muscles when she awoke. He made the bed and spread a quilt over the sheets—not the quilt that had been passed from generations as that would be saved for the coldest of nights.
For a third time, he returned to the wagon. How would he get Tallie down without waking her? Would she wake up if he slipped her under his arms and carried her down? He wished there was a guaranteed way to get her into the house without breaking her slumber. Bending his knees, he kneeled on the wagon floor in front of the bench. He maneuvered Tallie into his arms and scooted backward to the wagon’s side.
He lowered one leg at first, stretching it until his foot found the ground. Then he braced his hip against the sidewall and swung his other leg out and down. It took some manipulation and contortion, but he successfully stepped off with Tallie in his arms. Unfazed by the extra bulk of her midsection, he carried her into the house and laid her on the bed.
Her eyes flickered. “Where are we?”
“Home.”
She gave him a groggy smile then fell back asleep.
Chapter 9
The woodsy scent of fire burning drifted into Tallie’s subconscious. She inhaled deeply, taking in the calming scent. Pulling the blankets over her shoulders, she snuggled under the quilt and relished the softness of the pillow and mattress. When was the last time she’d slept so well? She couldn’t remember.
Reality hit her, bringing her to full wakefulness. She sat up in bed and looked around. Nothing looked familiar. Think Tallie. The last thing in her memory was sitting on the wagon, leaning into Jeremiah for support. That had been afternoon, but the bright sun shining into the room indicated morning.
Was she at Jeremiah’s home? Er, their home. How’d she get into the bed? Her face warmed, realizing Jeremiah must have carried her. Had he struggled due to her extra heft? Glancing down at her stomach, she couldn’t believe how large she’d become, especially since she hadn’t shown for a long time.
She stole a glimpse around the room. There wasn’t much except for the bed, a dressing table, chest of drawers, and wardrobe. In time, maybe she could add some feminine touches. If, in fact, this was her new home, which she was almost certain it was. Her gaze fell on the other side of the bed. There was an indent, hinting that someone had slept there.
Well, she couldn’t have expected Jeremiah to sleep on the floor indefinitely. The bed in this room appeared to be twice as large as the one in the boarding house in Cheyenne and Weatherton. As her husband, he had every right to share the bed.
Do you mind?
The thought startled her, and she realized the truth. She hadn’t slept so peacefully and soundly because she’d been fatigued. That had only been part of the reason—she woke up with calmness and restfulness because she hadn’t been alone. For the first time in many years, she had someone to share her life with, not just on a superficial level.
What about Gil?
Prickles of guilt nudged her. With good reason, Gil had been on her mind a lot that past few days. He was whom she’d thought her life would be shared with, but that wasn’t to be. She’d given their relationship a lot of consideration and had come to a conclusion that shocked her. Her affection for him only reached that of a dear friend.
She’d only gone along with an engagement and other things because he’d been the truest friend she’d ever had, and she was afraid of losing him if she said no. A marriage between her and Gil would have been a disservice to them both—they deserved to enter a marriage with truth and no false pretenses. At least with Jeremiah, they were honest about their expectations.
The revelation made the shame for what she’d done surface. She’d spent hours in prayers to realize she was absolved and didn’t have to continue asking for forgiveness. The hardest part was forgiving herself, and most days she thought she had. Other days were still a struggle.
She sighed and staved off those lines of thought. The negativity was encroaching on the peace she’d had when she woke up. Straining an ear, she listened for any sign of movement. Nothing. The house was completely silent. She tossed the quilt to the side, only then realizing she still wore her dress from yesterday.
Pressing a hand to her back, she stood, then smoothed her dress the best she could. A quick peek at it revealed it was wrinkled beyond hope. Later, she’d have to heat the iron on a stove. Her body was stiff from not moving and she moved slowly, shuffling her feet. She reached the bedroom door and looked to the right, then the left.
There were two doors down a hallway and an opening on the opposite wall. At the far end of the hallway was another door that she could only assume led outside. The path to the kitchen seemed obvious, and she remembered what Jeremiah had told her about the home’s layout. Her muscles loosened by the time she’d reached the kitchen. Padding her way toward the stove, she observed the room.
A large black stove was positioned against the far wall. Jeremiah must have started a fire in it already because she felt its warmth clear across the room. A counter stretched the length between
the stove and wall. Gingham fabric was hung from end to end along the front edge. Tallie assumed the space beneath the counter and behind the curtain was used for storage. There were several bare shelves hung on the wall. Visions of them filled with dishes and knickknacks evoked feelings of home. Crates littered the room. Some were opened, most not.
In spite of everything she’d been through, optimism persisted within her that life would better from here on out. She had a real house to live in, one that she didn’t have to share with a dozen other children. A husband who was considerate and handsome, plus a baby whose arrival was imminent.
She continued her assessment of the kitchen. The table was laden with a variety of foods. Her stomach rumbled, a loud reminder of her long time of slumber. Even so, she didn’t feel right helping herself to the food. Tilting her head, she studied the food in depth, curious as to where it had come from. She pressed a hand to her chest. Had she slept through visitors? Goodness, she hoped not. How dreadfully commonplace and rude that would have been.
The baby kicked, jolting her. She rubbed her stomach, laughing. “Don’t worry little one. Just as soon as I find Jeremiah, we’ll get something to eat.”
Crossing the kitchen, she made her way to the opposite side of the house, to where the living area was arranged. There were several pieces of furniture that must have been left from before. They hadn’t brought any in from town, and Jeremiah hadn’t mentioned anything about a new settee or chairs.
A fire burned in the hearth, beckoning Tallie to its warmth. Lingering near the flames, she lost the chill in her feet. The plush armchair nearest the fire invited her to sit, and she gave it serious deliberation. She didn’t understand how she could be so tired and weary after waking up refreshed only minutes ago. Despite her body’s desires, Tallie didn’t sit. If she did, she wasn’t sure she’d ever get back up, and it was bad enough she’d slept away the entire afternoon and evening yesterday.
The front door blew open. When no one came through, Tallie dragged herself across the room to investigate. She peered outside for any sign of Jeremiah. Nothing of her husband, but she did notice the grass swaying in the wind. A shiver passed over her, and she closed the door before all the cold air evaporated the heat from the fire.
The strength of the gusts was liable to rip the door right off the frame. Figuring that Jeremiah could knock when he returned, she secured the door latch so it wouldn’t blow open again. Hunger pains ripped through her stomach again.
“Just one little thing,” she said out loud though no one was in the house. Back in the kitchen, she sliced a piece of bread from one of the loaves. She picked up a jar of bright red jam, she twisted off the lid. Using the same knife as she’d used for the bread—it was the only utensil she saw— she spread raspberry jam over the slice and then took a bite.
Interesting. The sweet preserve was not raspberry as she’d expected, but something different that she didn’t recognize. Nonetheless, it was delicious and pleased her palate.
One more slice, her stomach insisted when the first was gone.
She repeated the process, relishing the sweetness of the jam mixed with the yeasty bread.
“Good morning.”
The disembodied voice startled her, causing her to jump from her chair and drop the remaining half slice of bread. She turned around to see Jeremiah walking toward her.
“Good morning.” With as much discretion as she could, she leaned over and picked up the bread which had fallen on her chair.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He closed the distance between them. “While you were sleeping, I went outside and examined the barn and other outhouses.”
“Were they in decent condition?”
“They’ll need a bit of work, not a surprise since they’ve been unattended for six years, but that’s why I have returned now instead of spring.” His eyes sparkled when he talked about the ranch. “In between the snow storms that are bound to come, I’ll get the work done.”
“Where did all this food come from?” She waved a hand over the table. “Please tell me I didn’t sleep through visitors.”
“No.” A chuckle left him. “It was all here yesterday when we arrived, left by the Ladies Auxiliary. There’s a note somewhere on the table if you’d like to read it.”
Resting an arm on her stomach, she darted a glance at the open jar of jam. “I helped myself to some if that’s okay.”
“I see that.” Mischief flashed in his eyes, leaving Tallie confused for a split second until he wiped the corner of her mouth. He winked and, to her shock, licked his finger. “Mmm. Chokecherry jam. One of my favorites.”
Jeremiah’s playful side made her smile.
She snapped her fingers. “So that’s what it is. I thought it was raspberry until I tasted it. Then I didn’t know what it was.”
“Are you still hungry? I was going to make flapjacks. It’s nothing fancy, but all I know how to make without burning the food.”
“I’ll make something.” Scanning the room, she realized she didn’t know where anything was.
Jeremiah followed her gaze, settling on a crate. “I started unpacking last night, but most of what I opened were items that belong in here. I figured you’d want to set up the kitchen to your liking.”
“That was thoughtful of you.” A sudden weepiness threatened to take hold, and she shoved it away. Her husband was a considerate man. If she cried every time he did something kind, she’d be crying her whole life and that just would not do. “Where is the flour?”
Twisting his lips, Jeremiah perused the room, then his cheeks went red. “I don’t remember ever telling Glenn to add flour.” His chest deflated. “I’m sorry. Somehow I forgot the obvious.”
“We’ll make do until we go back to town.” Letting him know it wasn’t anything to fuss about, she pressed a hand to his arm. “There was a lot happening yesterday and many things to remember.”
His brows drew together with skepticism. “But a staple like flour?”
“You remembered me, at least.”
“True.” The muscles in his face relaxed. “I can’t go back today because I have to see about buying some chickens and a dairy cow. Tomorrow would be the earliest.”
“It’s fine, truly.” After all he’d done for her, she disliked seeing the disappointment in his eyes.
His expressions made clear he thought he’d let her down.
She gestured to the spread of food on the table. “We have all this to eat.” Sliding her palm under a pie tin, she lifted an apple pie and held it out. “Haven’t you ever wanted dessert first? Now’s our chance.”
A deep chuckle erupted from Jeremiah’s chest. “I like the way you think, Tallie.”
Chapter 10
Two weeks after Jeremiah and Tallie arrived home in Weatherton, they were finally attending a church service. The first Sunday, Tallie was still exhausted. She’d claimed she wasn’t, but dark circles persisted under her eyes and she’d moved slowly from room to room. Instead of going into town, they’d stayed home and read from the Bible while sitting by the fire.
Tallie’s knowledge of the scripture amazed him. He’d ignorantly assumed that she wouldn’t know much because of growing up in the orphanage, but he’d been humbled. Not only did she have more knowledge than him in that area, but she also had many of the passages memorized. He could count on his fingers and toes the verses he could quote from memory without any prompting.
Since they’d met less than three weeks ago, on more than one occasion and unconscious that she’d done so, Tallie had reminded him of his pride and the downfall it could be. She was good for him, and he earnestly prayed she felt the same way about him.
Every day he tried his best to make the transition smooth for her. Often he found himself stressed with the sheer number of tasks he must complete to get the ranch’s affairs in order, but he couldn’t imagine being in Tallie’s position. At a minimum, he had the benefit of being in a familiar place with old friends, though he’d not had a chance
to see many of them yet. Tallie had none of that, plus she had the baby to think about.
Last night, she’d poured out her heart, telling him the heartaches she’d endured in life. He ached for her and everything she’d suffered. She told him about her parents and even Gil. That part had been difficult to hear, and it still bothered him. After they’d gone to bed, he’d lain there for an hour, still stewing about Gil, the man whose child Jeremiah would raise.
He couldn’t explain his discord with the situation, which is why he was out in the barn, hitching the horses an hour before they had to leave for church. When answers hadn’t come on their own, he realized it was time to talk to God.
Sitting on a hay bale, he began to pray. “Why am I so upset about Gil? I know I’ve accepted Tallie’s past, and I don’t hold it against her, but the very mention of her ex-fiancé makes me angry.”
Jealousy.
Jeremiah scoffed. Him, jealous of a dead man? That was preposterous.
Is it?
Why would he be jealous of him?
Because he shared something with Tallie that you don’t. Because, in her own way, she loved him.
The truth slammed into him. He was jealous of a dead man. Tallie was his wife, but she’d shared more with Gil than she had him. That wasn’t exactly a fair thought. They were only beginning their adventure together. Wasn’t it possible that love would come in time, and they could share a closeness as well?
You must forget Tallie’s life before you and accept what it is now.
Even if that meant erasing all the bad thoughts he had about Gil, all the imaginary times he’d punched him for taking the virtue of a young woman?
Yes.
The answer was clear as though he’d really heard a voice. He bowed his head, prayed and released everything he felt about Gil. Unease that had plagued him since last night lifted from his shoulders. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with invigoratingly cold air. Rising from his temporary seat, he exhaled. Time to return to his wife.
