by KyAnn Waters
Allison smiled. “Cleaning up Michael, but TJ took the children to Betty this morning.”
“Shame on you. You‘re lying because you don’t think I can do housework. It might not be to your standards, but I’ll do my best.”
Marion went to the kitchen to start with a cup of coffee and a biscuit. She was going to need energy to fuel her day. “I’ll start in here,” she hollered from the kitchen. Dishes from TJ’s breakfast piled up on the counter. As she walked between the table and the sink, her shoes tracked a sticky spill across the floor. She poured a cup of coffee and filled a pail with water from the pump.
Marion enjoyed pretending she didn’t know how to clean. The truth was as a little girl her mother made her work from sunup until bedtime. But that was many years ago. The only cleaning she did now was that of necessity. One of the girls at the brothel was usually willing to do her chores for a small fee.
Once she’d washed the dishes, she refilled a bucket and started on the floor. On her hands and knees, she scrubbed the kitchen and down the hallway.
She checked on Allison periodically, who slept on the couch. It wasn’t until lunchtime that she realized just how long she had been cleaning. She straightened the beds, pulling the quilts to the pillows, the commode was scrubbed, and the children’s wooden toys were put back in the storage crates in their rooms.
“Allison.” Marion gently touched her shoulder.
Allison opened her eyes and squinted against the bright light filtering through the windows. Marion had pulled back the curtains and wiped down the windowsill. “What time is it?”
“Twelve thirty. I can clean when necessary. However, I cannot learn to cook in a single morning. Unless TJ wants a salad, you’re going to have to help.”
Allison put her feet on the floor and carefully stood, letting her wobbly legs adjust.
“Are you still queasy? Some of the girls at the brothel had to eat in bed to keep from getting sick.”
Allison glanced around the sparkling clean room. “Thank you,” she said, giving Marion a hug. Tears sprang to her eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t seem to stop crying either.” They walked into the kitchen and a fresh wave of tears washed over her.
Allison started lunch just as TJ came into the kitchen through the back door. He went to her side and put his hand on her forehead. “Sugar, you’re pale. You can’t stand over a hot stove,” he said, alarm discernable in his voice. He helped her to a chair. “Train rode out to your place,” he said to Marion. “Take my horse and you might be able to catch up with him.”
Marion wiped her hands on the apron tied around her waist before taking it off. “I’ll be back after lunch.”
Marion rode TJ’s horse as if she were racing for a blue ribbon. Even before she reached the house, she saw his silhouette along the bank of the lake. Once she was a few yards from Train, she brought the horse to a stop, and slid from the saddle with absolutely no grace. What did she care? Train was the horseman. She ran into his arms. “I was still at the house,” she said, breathless. “Allison is going to have a baby and isn’t feeling good. I stayed to help her.”
“My wife doing house chores?”
Caught off guard by the sudden vibrancy in his voice, she said with pleasure, “I did.” She wrinkled her nose. “That doesn’t mean I’m in the mood to clean our home.”
Train wrapped his arm around her shoulder. They went into their little cabin. “Perhaps you could ask Allison to help you make curtains for the windows.”
Marion stopped unbuttoning her dress. “I guess you’re right.” The dress dropped to the floor. “I didn’t rush home for lunch, Train. I’m not hungry,” she said, looking at the food on the table. “I want you to make love to me.”
* * *
TJ walked to the shack when Marion hadn’t returned with his horse. He expected to find Train, only to be told Train hadn’t returned either.
Jack sucked his long, thin, cigar and blew a smoke ring into the air. “I’m sure our good friend Train is having a very tasty lunch that has nothing to do with Cake’s fine vittles.” His comment met with laughter. “No disrespect intended, boss. We made the same comments about your beautiful, young wife. When I find a good woman, you can be assured I’ll be taking my chuck at home as well.”
TJ took Jack at his word and walked back out of the building to check the horses in the stable.
Once TJ was out the door, Jack whispered in a conspiratorial tone, “And a few of us know just how good Train is eating.” His boisterous laugh echoed off the walls. Jack continued, expressing his knowledge of Marion’s anatomy.
Cake interrupted, slamming a large pot of potatoes onto the table. “In my kitchen you’ll show your manners! Disrespecting Train is like disrespecting the boss. Not one of your jobs is secure enough to talk about that girl the way you are. Whatever she was is none of our business. Now, get out of here. You’re bothering me,” he bellowed. “Get back to work.”
The group quickly dispersed.
Outside Jack leaned into Charlie. “I don’t care beans what that old man says. Marion isn’t a one-man woman. In fact, she’s known for it.”
Charlie laughed. “I guess you’ve never had the privilege of a cattle drive with Train. You learn a lot about a man when you don’t have any privacy. If you ask me, he’s the only chap for a whore like Marion.”
“Here they come,” Jack said quickly. “Don’t say anything.”
“Worried he’d knock the tar out of you?” Charlie mounted, pulling the reins of his horse and digging in his heels. “You look guilty, Jack. Better keep your eyes on the ground if you can’t keep them off Train’s wife.”
Train and Marion stopped their horses in front of the stable. Marion slid from her horse. “Thanks, TJ,” she said, handing him the reins. She turned to Train. “I’ll see you later.” The cool breeze whipped her hair around her face when she smiled. “Have a good day.”
Train let her walk away without saying anything. He wanted to profess his love in front of everyone, but Marion still hadn’t returned the sentiment. He still wasn’t sure if she did love him. So for now, until he was certain, it was better to leave certain words unsaid. Let Jack and the others make their own assumptions.
“Congratulations,” Jack said, looking down at Train from his saddle. “Are you going to let us throw you and your new wife a party?”
“Already in the works.” TJ mounted his horse. “Hadn’t had a chance to tell you,” he said to Train.
Train furrowed his brows.
“Cake’s making a mess of ribs.”
“Great,” Train said dejectedly, pulling his horse next to TJ’s. “I’m sure Marion will be thrilled.”
* * *
Marion decided Allison looked much better after lunch. The color had returned to her cheeks and evidently, the smell of food was appetizing. She had bread in the oven, and was putting together a concoction of meat and vegetables into a large cast iron pot.
Marion sat at the table and sipped a cup of coffee. “Train wants curtains for the windows. Seems my lack of modesty causes him concern.”
Allison wiped her hands on her apron. “TJ’s first wife loved to catalog shop. I found packages that had never been opened when I started cleaning out closets.” She looked over her shoulder at Marion as they climbed the stairs. “I found the sheets and blankets for your bed. I doubt you took the time to look last night,” she said amused. “But I left supplies for a linen closet, bath towels, and hand towels. You probably won’t appreciate it, but I also gave you cleaning rags.” She entered the spare bedroom that no longer had a bed and opened the top dresser drawer. She pulled out yards of heavy fabric.
“It’s red.” Marion worried. Train’s reaction to the furniture didn’t bode well for the curtains. “Train hates red.”
“It’s not red. It’s maroon.”
Marion gave her a look that asked, what’s the difference?
“This is dark red.” Allison held the fabric out for her to take. “I think it
will make beautiful curtains. And it’s heavy enough to turn the room dark during the day.” She put the fabric in Marion’s hands. “Take it, please.” She smiled.
“I’m telling Train it was your idea.” Marion grabbed the fabric from Allison’s outstretched arms.
Allison showed Marion how to do a simple straight stitch. Marion examined the curtains Allison made and decided she could accomplish a similar look for her windows. “I’m going home.” She gathered up the supplies. “It sounds strange to my own ears. I have a home and a husband.” She dropped her hands into her lap. “Look at me. I’m really happy.”
Allison kissed her cheek. “It shows. Now go home and sew curtains for your husband. Prove you can do more with your hands than, well, he knows more about what you do with your hands than I do.”
Feeling confident in her newfound skills, Marion went to the shack. If Train were spending the next few days, possibly weeks, working all day, she had another idea to impress her husband.
* * *
Train was bone tired when he returned home well after dark. A delicious smell filled the room. He couldn’t help the look of pleasure sure to be on his face finding his woman sitting at the table with a needle and thread. The makings of a fine dinner suspended on a hook over the fire. “I’m more tired than I thought. This is clearly a dream or perhaps a nightmare,” he said while he hung his hat on a peg next to the front door. “What are you doing?”
“Exactly what it looks like I’m doing. Give me a couple more hours and there will be curtains covering those windows. Now you won’t have to worry when I spend my day half-dressed.” She held up the first completed curtain. She walked to the window so Train could see how it would look.
“I don’t like the color.” He went to the fireplace and stirred the pot. “You cooked?”
“Cake made up a pot of stew for me. All I had to do was hang it over a low fire for the afternoon.” She smiled proudly. “As for the fabric, Allison had it on hand. I figured maroon--” she stated, defiantly. “--would be better than nothing at all. I told her you wouldn’t like the color, but she insisted I take it. Do you really hate it or could you live with it?”
“I’m tolerating Sandy’s furniture. I’ll get over red curtains, too.”
“They match a dress of mine. I haven’t worn it because I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it.” She picked up her needle and thread to start on the next curtain.
“Wear what you want here in the house.” He ladled two bowls of stew. “When did you see Cake?” He tried to sound uninterested, failing miserably.
Marion tossed the curtain onto the table and stabbed the needle into a pincushion. “Show a little appreciation.”
“I love the curtains. I hate you in the shack.”
“We’ve been over this. I’m not sitting in this house every day for the rest of my life.” She stood and walked around the table in the opposite direction of Train. “And it’s not Allison’s responsibility to entertain me. I’ve been on my own for a long time. I’m not about to play the submissive wife.”
“I’m not asking you to play at anything. But you should still respect my wishes. I hate other men looking at you.”
“Sometimes I hate you.” She opened the door, stomped out, and slammed it closed behind her.
Train was about to run after her, and then rethought the decision. She had a reason to be angry, but he couldn’t help the flash of jealousy firing through him at the thought of other men wanting her.
Rumors were rampant. Gossip over who had seen her at the brothel. A few professed to having been a patron of hers. It did bother him that the rumors could very well be true.
Train poured a drink and stepped out onto the porch to sip it. He scanned the edge of the lake looking for Marion. He saw her sitting under his favorite tree.
“Are we always going to fight?” she asked when he approached.
“You’re a betting girl. What do you think?” He rested his wrists against a branch just above his head.
She glanced up at him. “You sound as if you like the idea.”
“You’re a passionate woman. A fiery temper comes with the territory.” He sat next to her.
“Then why do you take pleasure in making me wrathy?”
“For the same reason you take pleasure in making me jealous.” He put his hand on the back of her neck. “We both like the excitement.”
Marion pressed the pad of her finger into the soft soil at the base of the tree. “I guess we both like to play games.” She held her hand out for him to help her up. “The trouble with games is that someone always loses.”
Train gently kissed her lips. “I like a good sparring because I know you’ll take it out on me in bed.” He kissed her again covering her breast with his hand. “And I know you love to make me jealous because I can make you beg for release.”
Marion slipped her hands around his neck. “You’re saying a good fight works for us.”
“Works for me.”
Chapter Thirteen
A few weeks later, Marion’s bare feet crushed the frost covered prairie grass as she hurried back from the outhouse. Train hadn’t seen a water closet as a necessity when building the house. She shivered in the early morning light just before sunup.
Train sat at the table sipping a cup of coffee. “You should wear shoes when you go out. Another week or two and there’ll be snow on the ground.”
She briskly rubbed them together in front of the fire, bringing warmth back into her hands. “Will you be gone all day?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound eager for him to be out of the house. “I thought I’d go help Allison today. The baby is still making her sick.”
“TJ said she was feeling like herself again.” Train watched her, taking another sip.
“I think she puts up a brave front so TJ won’t worry.” She took her coffee cup and sat in the chair to his right. She propped her feet up on his lap. “If you’ll come home for lunch, I’ll wait until this afternoon to go over.”
He wrapped his fingers around her toes. “Are you going to wear your dress that matches the curtains?” he joked.
“Will it make a difference?”
“No, I like you naked.” He pushed her feet off his lap. “But not today, I’m heading into high country. I doubt I’ll be home before dark. Now that the weather is changing, the deer will be looking for food. Good time for hunting. Cake loves to cook up a nice piece of venison.” He put his cup on the hutch next to the sink basin in the small kitchen area. “TJ usually goes, too.”
“Then I guess I’ll stay at the ranch house and have dinner with Allison and the children.” She put her cup next to his. “I’m going back to bed for a while.” She kissed him, making contact with the side of his mouth more than his lips.
“See you tonight,” he replied.
Marion climbed beneath the covers until only the top of her head was visible.
She waited until she heard Clive race away from the house before tossing off the covers and getting dressed. Outside, she went around to the side of the house, pulled one of the few remaining crates into the kitchen area, and began to unpack Sandy’s dishes into the black lacquer hutch that matched the desk still in the stable. As soon as she got a few chores done, she could get out of the house.
* * *
Train pulled his heavy parka up over his ears. Lately it seemed Marion was hiding something from him and he’d yet to figure out what. He didn’t think she was lying to him as much as omitting the details of how she spent her days.
“We’re in for an early winter,” Charlie said on the horse next to him. “TJ already has the fields turned under. Figure he expects the snow to fly early. Will you be making a run into town?” He took a breath, but continued. “So how’s the house? You put it up fast. Hopefully the roof won’t leak.”
Train listened to Charlie dance around what was really interesting him. He wanted the details of how his marriage came to be.
“You thinking the same thing everyone else is
, Charlie?” Glancing over, he summed up Charlie’s interest by the slump of his shoulders and the furrowing of his brows. “The house is sturdy,” he said when Charlie didn’t respond.
They rode in silence for another mile up the mountain. “Let’s break by the river and see what comes our way. Maybe we’ll get lucky and make an early kill. I want to get home before dark.” Train angled Clive to move off to the left.
They tethered their horses to a tree a few yards from the river and hunkered down in the brush. Train pulled his hat low over his eyes and tightened his coat around his neck. “Jerky?” he offered instead of tobacco. He didn’t want to scare away any potential game with the smell.
Charlie took a piece. “How come you cancelled the wedding party? We were all looking forward to getting to know your wife.”
“Why do you think I did?”
“I’m your friend, Train. You aren’t going to want to hear this, but you look like a fool to a lot of people.”
“Charlie, you’ve known me a long time. When have I given a shit what anyone thinks? Marion’s my girl.”
“Jack has a thing for your girl,” Charlie blurted. “I don’t want to be the one to tell you, but they’ve been seeing each other every day. The way Jack talks it’s gotten pretty heavy, but hell, what did you expect when you married a whore?”
Trains hands balled into fists. “Jack is full of shit.” He spit the jerky from his mouth before he threw up.
“You could ask anyone, but they’re all afraid to say anything. Even TJ’s seen her down at the shack.” Charlie took a hefty swallow from the canteen. “You can punch me if you want, won’t change the truth. She’s making a fool out of you.”
A crackle sounded near the river. Charlie picked up his rifle and took careful aim. The shot rang out and the three-point buck dropped to the ground. “We’ll need to move farther up stream, unless you want to head back.”
Train shook his head. “I need to shoot something and if we go back now, it’ll either be Jack or Marion.” Picking up his rifle, he headed back toward the horses while Charlie retrieved his kill.
