“Nice to meet you, too,” Emily said. Her sister repeated it.
“Okay, girls. Why don’t you go back to working on your quilts now.”
As the girls headed into the living room, Katherine asked, “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, ma’am. But thank you anyway.”
“Very well. Let’s head to the living room where we can get comfortable.”
Selina followed Katherine and sat down in one of the chairs.
“Don’t mind the mess. I’m keeping the girls occupied by teaching them how to quilt.”
Selina looked down at the girls sitting on the floor and the squares of material between them.
“I’ve never made a quilt before. Always wanted to learn, though.”
“How come you didn’t?” Rosie asked.
“My ma took sick when I was a youngin, and she died when I was ten, so I never got a chance.”
“We’ll teach you.” Emily looked up at her grandma. “Won’t we, Grandmother?”
“We sure will.” Katherine smiled at Selina.
“Really? You’d do that?”
“Sure will. In fact,” Katherine rose, “I’ll be right back.” She left the room.
“Are you making quilts for your beds?” Selina asked the girls.
“No, we’re making them for our dollies,” Rosie, the bubbly one of the two answered.
“What color you gonna make them?”
“Mine’s going to be pink and yellow.” Rosie puffed out her little chest.
“I’m making mine in two different shades of blue.” Emily picked up the squares and showed them to Selina.
“Blue is my favorite color.” Selina ran her fingers over the dark and light blue squares.
“I could make mine blue, too.” The sad look on Rosie’s face made Selina wonder what that was all about until she realized she’d made a big to-do over blue and Rosie’s was pink.
Selina placed herself in a circle on the floor with them and looked at Rosie. “Rosie, I like pink and yellow right fine, too. Purple, orange, red—you name it and I like it. So don’t you be changin’ your mind ’cause someone else likes somethin’ different. You just be yourself because the good Lord made you just the way you are. Perfect and just right.”
With a big smile Rosie picked up the pink and yellow squares and got right back to work on her quilt.
Sitting with the girls, watching their faces, settled a longing deep inside her to have children of her own.
Katherine came into the room, carrying tied stacks of squared material. Selina leaped up and took part of them from her.
Her mother-in-law set her stack down. “Here you go, Selina. Take your pick of colors.”
“Thank you kindly, Katherine.”
“Please, I’d be honored if you would call me Mother.”
Selina smiled. “I’d be right honored, too…Mother.” It felt strange being all formal and calling her mother, but no one else called Katherine Ma, and neither would she. Selina whipped her attention away from Katherine so she wouldn’t see the tears building in her eyes. No one could take her ma’s place, but it felt nice to have a ma again.
She studied the stacks of squares. Each one had a different pattern. They were all so pretty, and not wanting to make the girls feel badly by choosing blue, she asked, “What’s Michael’s favorite color?”
“He doesn’t have one. Says he likes them all,” Katherine answered.
That made it easy. Selina chose a variety of colors. Then, Katherine, with the help of the girls, showed Selina how to sew the blocks together, something called piecing. Having Katherine show her how to do this made her miss her mama. Well, she wouldn’t think about that now. She’d just enjoy her time with the girls and Katherine.
Two hours later, Selina excused herself so she could hurry home and fix lunch for Michael. She flew around the kitchen fixing lunch and had just finished when Michael came in the door holding his arm, blood staining his shirt sleeve and handkerchief. Selina’s attention shot to him. She tossed the dish towel onto the table and bolted toward him. “Michael! What happened?”
Michael’s arm throbbed. “I snagged it on a nail.” Now he wished he would have gone ahead and fixed that stupid nail sticking out of the fence yesterday, but no, he’d been so excited about picking up his bride, he had forgotten all about it. Seemed he’d been doing a lot of things he regretted lately.
“Well, let me take a look at it.” She unwrapped the blood-soaked handkerchief from around his arm. “This thing sure is deep. You’re gonna need stitches. Got any thread and a needle?”
Needle and thread? You’ve got to be kidding. He yanked his arm back to his chest. No way would he let someone other than a doctor sew him up. “Yes. But I just dropped by to grab a bite and to let you know that I was heading into town to have Doc Berg take a look at it.”
“Ain’t no need to bother the doctor when I can take care of it for you.”
Of course she could. “I’m sure you can, but after lunch I’ll head into town just the same. Thank you.”
Selina planted her hands on her small waist. “Nonsense. I been sewin’ up cuts for as long as I can remember. I’m good at it, too. Fetch me that thread and needle or I’ll find it myself. Got any clean rags? And some moonshine?”
“Moonshine? What’s that?”
“Homemade corn liquor.”
“The only alcohol I have is some whiskey for medicinal purposes.”
“That’ll work just fine. Fetch it, too.”
“Bossy,” he murmured under his breath as he headed to do her bidding.
“I heard that.”
“Good.” He grabbed the whiskey from the pantry and the needle and thread he used to sew up his tack.
He watched her burn the end of the needle with a match then pour whiskey over it. Using warm water, she sloshed a clean rag around the water then irrigated his wound by squeezing the water out of the rag. Gently, she dabbed the excess water and dirt from the laceration. He had to admit she was doing a nice job. She held a clean rag under his arm, tilted the whiskey jug above it and poured it into his cut.
“Ahhhh!” He yanked his arm from her. Whiskey ran onto his pant leg. “What did you do that for?”
“To kill any germs that might be in it.”
“That stuff stings.” The strong smell of whiskey singed his nose and made his eyes water.
“Oh, you big baby. Come here.” She clasped his hand, raised it and started blowing on his cut, cooling the pain.
The contact did funny things to his insides and made him forget all about the stinging.
He stared at her, unable to peel his attention away from her beautiful face and puckered lips. What would it be like to caress those shapely lips with his own? Would they be warm or cool to the touch? Realizing where his thoughts were taking him, he yanked his focus and his mind back to reality. “Aren’t you adding germs to it by blowing on it?”
“Oh, for pity’s sake.” She grabbed the whiskey jug and placed another clean rag under his arm and poured even more alcohol onto the wound. “There. Iffen any of my germs got in there, they’re dead now. You happy?”
“No. It hurts. If I would have gone to the doctor, it wouldn’t have hurt as much.”
“Well, iffen you think that hurt, then you’d best be for backing up your horses, cowboy, and bear down on this.” She all but shoved a piece of wood between his teeth and in the next breath she poked the needle through his skin.
He wanted to yell out in pain. Never was he one to handle needles very well. He bit into the wood, almost breaking it in half. What he really wanted to do was jump up and head straight into town to Doc Berg’s office.
Pressure applied on his arm took his mind off of the needle. Minutes later, after a few more quick pokes and knots, she announced she was finished. While she made a bandage for it, he studied her work and found her stitches to be as good as any doctor’s. Michael had to admit, he was impressed.
She bandaged his arm.
“There. All done. Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“I hate to admit it, but no. It wasn’t too bad. The alcohol was the worst part.” He looked up at her and smiled. “Thank you, Selina.”
“You’re welcome. Now, let me get you some vittles.” She put away the supplies she’d used and then set food on the table.
He smiled. This time she’d made plenty. After eating a big lunch, although there were still plenty of chores that needed tending to, having had very little sleep the night before, Michael decided to take a short nap to refresh himself. “Selina, I’m going to take a nap. Can you wake me up in about fifteen minutes?”
Her cheeks turned pink. He wondered what that was all about, but all she did was nod.
He stepped into his room and stopped. Sprawled across his pillows was Miss Piggy, the barn cat. “What are you doing in here, Miss Piggy?”
The cat raised her head, gazed at him a mere second, then laid her head back down.
“She needed a place to sleep,” Selina said from behind him.
“There’s a barn for that, you know. Animals do not belong in the house.”
“This one does.”
“No, she doesn’t.” He strode over to where Miss Piggy lay and stooped to pick her up. But before he had a chance to reach the cat, Selina grabbed his hand on his good arm, surprising him with how strong a grip she had for such a tiny woman.
“Don’t you be disruptin’ her. She needs to sleep so that cut can heal.”
He stood to his full height, crossed his arms over his chest and spread his legs. “This is my bed, Selina, and I won’t have animals sleeping on it or anywhere near it. Do I make myself clear?”
“Sure do. But you’re forgettin’ one thing. This here’s my home now, too. You said so.”
He did and it was. But there was no way he was allowing animals into his…their…house. He had worked his backside off to provide his wife with nice furniture and he’d be hanged if he’d let some animal that spent all day down at the barn rolling in only who knows what, come in and soil everything he’d worked so hard for. “That’s true, but as your husband, I am the head of this house and what I say goes.” He sounded like a bully even to his own ears, but he didn’t know what else to say to keep Selina from bringing any more animals into the house.
“You may be the head over this house, but I ain’t never let a man boss me around or tell me what to do and I ain’t aimin’ to start now.”
He had only himself to blame for not going to Kentucky and meeting Selina before getting married. Now he was stuck with the consequences of a headstrong woman. If he wasn’t so frustrated over the whole mess, he would laugh. She couldn’t be more than five-foot-three inches tall, yet here she stood, mere inches from him, glaring up at him and daring him to refute her.
And refute her he would. “That cat better be out of here by the time I get home, or I’ll put her out myself.” He whirled, changed his torn, bloody shirt, then stormed out of the house.
Chapter Five
The next morning, Michael was already gone when Selina woke up. The cookie jar sat on the table along with an empty milk glass. Selina wondered why he didn’t wait for her. Surely he wasn’t still upset with her. Yesterday, whenever the cat had woken from her nap and wanted outside, Selina had obliged her. So the animal wasn’t in the house when Michael got home. Maybe she’d gotten up too late. She walked to the window and peeked outside. The sun wasn’t even up yet and neither were the roosters, it was so early.
It bugged her that he hadn’t woken her up to fix him some breakfast. Maybe with his arm hurt he wanted to get an early start, knowing it would take longer. Who knew. Either way, Selina wanted to help her husband with whatever chores needed to be done.
She grabbed a biscuit and gulped it down before heading out to the barn. Inside the barn, she found a lantern and lit it. Once the horses were fed and watered, the barn was mucked clean and the lantern was snuffed, she stepped outside just in time to watch the sunrise.
A long yellow streak outlined in orange rose above the mountain. Shadowed puffs of clouds dotted the blue sky. “Mighty fine job Ya done there, Lord. Sure is purty.” She watched it for a few more minutes, then turned toward the outbuildings in search of Michael.
Little things around her snagged her attention, though, and she forgot all about looking for Michael. God’s creation was something to behold. She wandered around the ranch yard, stopping often to enjoy the good Lord’s many pleasures. Like the smell of sweet apples filling the fresh air. Dew drops sparkling on the leaves of bushes, birds singing their morning song, squirrels chattering, probably telling something or someone that they were in their territory or taking their food. Yellow, fluffy baby chicks peeped, and chickens pecked away at the feed she’d just tossed them.
Time passed until she realized the sun had fully risen and had driven the morning chill from her body.
Standing near the woodshed, she turned when she heard footsteps brushing the grasses.
Leah came bustling toward her. “Hi, Selina. I’ve been looking all over for you. Michael asked me to take you into town to buy some material and some new boots. It sounds like so much fun, and I’m looking so forward to getting to know you better,” the young woman said excitedly.
Selina looked down where Leah had linked arms with her as if they were old friends. To her delight, so far, everyone here was friendly. Made her feel welcome. She smiled at the pretty young lady whose blond hair shone like a halo. Field flowers surrounded the air about her. “You sure smell nice.”
“Thank you.” Leah smiled.
“Where is Michael anyways?” She allowed Leah to lead her toward the barn. Leah’s skirt swished as she walked.
“He’s out doctoring and checking the cows.”
“Maybe I should go help him. Can you show me what direction he went?”
Leah’s voice and face fell. “He went up north. I could show you, but I was so looking forward to taking you shopping.”
Selina could tell how much it meant to her, and she didn’t want to disappoint Leah. “I can help him another day.”
“Are you sure?” Her face lit up.
“I’m sure.” Selina wanted to earn her keep, but Michael had asked his sister, her sister now, too, to take her, so she reckoned it was okay.
“Oh, goody. Let’s go, then. I have the buggy all hitched and ready.”
Leah led Selina to a fancy buggy with a half top. A black horse with a spotted rump was hitched to it. “That’s a right purty horse. Ain’t never seen horses like the ones y’all have before.”
“They’re palouse ponies. They are beautiful, aren’t they?”
“Sure are.”
They climbed into the buggy. Leah picked up the reins and gave the horse a light slap on the rump. “Giddyup, Lambie.”
Lambie? As in lamb, the animal? That was a mighty strange name for a horse.
Hooves clip-clopped on the hard ground, and tack rattled like chains as they headed down the road toward town.
“You’re going to love Marcel Mercantile. They have a nice selection of fabrics and shoes.”
Selina was sure she would. She hadn’t ever spent much time in a store before. No need to. Never had any money to buy anything. Jumpin’ crickets. How was she going to pay for the material and shoes? Michael had to know she didn’t have any money. Well, she wouldn’t fret about that now. She’d wait until she got to the store, then she’d know what to do or what not to do.
“Michael said to tell you he set up an account for you to get whatever you wanted or needed and not to worry about how much it cost. Wasn’t that sweet of him?”
Shock ran through her. “Sure is.”
About a quarter mile up the road from the ranch, Selina spotted a large herd of cows on one side of the road and a large herd of pigs on the other. Michael and three other men were riding through the cows. She twisted in her seat, longing to join him, but that wasn’t going to happen today. She was on her way into town to get new sho
es and material to make new clothes.
Things she’d never had before.
Her and her brothers’ clothes were made from other folk’s hand-me-downs, and they never could afford new shoes. New shoes. Something she needed desperately. The ones on her feet were worn thinner than a moth’s wings and about as fragile, too.
Up the road a ways, about two miles, she noticed a sawmill in the trees with several large stacks of wood and logs. And even farther up the road was a field filled with red poppies. “Can we stop a minute?”
Leah looked at her with surprise. “Um. Sure. Whoa, Lambie.” She pulled the reins and the buggy came to a stop.
Selina hopped down and ran over to the red poppies. She stooped to take a look at them.
A few minutes later, Leah came up behind her.
“Ain’t these purty? The edges of the petals look like the wrinkled skin of an old person. Just as beautiful, too.” A bee buzzed around her, landing in the black center of the flower beside her. She watched, amazed at God’s creation and how the bee’s wings kept that little varmint in one spot while it worked on that flower. Selina turned to say something about it to Leah, but she was back in the buggy.
Selina gently held a flower in her hand and leaned over, breathing in deeply. Sweet honey was the only way to describe the wonderful scent. Not wanting to keep Leah any longer, she made her way back to the wagon, running her fingers lightly over a few of the petals along the way.
She climbed into the buggy. “Sorry to keep you waitin’.”
“You weren’t keeping me waiting. I hurried back here because I’m scared to death of bees.”
“How come?”
“Well, one time, I got stung by a whole bunch of them all at once. Since then I’ve been deathly afraid of them.”
“That’s too bad. They’re right pleasurable to watch.”
“I’ll just have to take your word for it.” Leah laughed and Selina joined her.
The buggy shifted as it moved forward.
“Them poppies sure were purty.” She looked around. “This place is a lot different from back home.”
“You’re from Kentucky, right?”
The Unlikely Wife Page 6
