Wolf Creek Wife

by Penny Richards

  Blythe couldn’t help seeing the humor in the situation or stop the fleeting smile that claimed her lips. “I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I overslept. I’ll do better tomorrow.” I hope. “Do you come home for lunch or take something with you?” she asked before taking a sip of her coffee.

  “I come in about noon.”

  “Oh.”

  “Is there a problem?” he asked, glancing at her over his shoulder.

  “No, not at all. Just thinking.”

  “Eggs?”

  “What?”

  “Do you want bacon and eggs?”

  “Oh, yes. One, please.” There was something unnerving about Will cooking for her.

  “Soft yolk?” he asked as he broke an egg into the hot bacon drippings.

  “Please.”

  “I’m not usually in for the day until six or so. Is something wrong?”

  “No,” she assured him. “I was just trying to figure out how to juggle my day. Since the school board gave me a little time off, I’d planned to check the pantry and then go into town and pick up whatever we needed for the next week, but I’m not sure I can be back by noon.”

  How could she tell him that her experience ended with setting a pretty table? She had no idea how to cook anything...well, except for scrambled eggs and toast and maybe a couple of other equally uninspired items. The truth was that she’d planned on heading to town and spending the day with her mother for a few quick lessons on some easy meals. She could bake sugar cookies, though. Maybe Will would like them.

  “That’s not a problem. I’ll just fry up a little more bacon and have a sandwich.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. Do you know how to hitch up the horse?”

  “I’m afraid not.” She felt guilty for making the admission.

  “I didn’t think so. When we finish breakfast, I’ll hitch Daisy up to the buggy and you can take all the time you need.”

  “Thank you.”

  Blythe felt all discombobulated. She’d had no idea how this marriage would unfold day by day, but this wasn’t at all the way she’d expected marriage to the prickly lumberman to be. She was grateful that things between them were so civilized, and that he was being so understanding and so kind. But it was a good thing. Perhaps he’d decided to start out the way they meant to go on, just as she had.

  When he’d finished making both breakfasts, he sat down across from her at the small table and picked up his fork.

  “Would you like to say a prayer?” she asked, thinking once again that today should serve as a foundation for all their days together. Devon had made such a fuss over it that she’d taken to giving thanks silently.

  Will stopped, blinked and stared at her for a couple of seconds. Then he gave a sharp nod and reached out for her hands.

  “You ask the blessing,” he said. “I’m not too sure my prayer would get any higher than the ceiling right now.”

  Blythe agreed, though she was accustomed to the man of the house leading the prayers if he was around. Later, she would have no recollection of what she said. The only thing she would recall was the warmth and strength of his calloused fingers holding hers. Tightly.

  When she finished, their eyes met once more. Was she imagining the softness in those dark depths? She couldn’t be sure.

  “Thank you,” he told her as he released his hold on her hands and picked up his fork again.

  They ate their breakfast, their conversation more hesitant and probing than spontaneous as it had been the night before. Hoping to surprise him with a home-cooked meal when he got in that evening, she asked Will what his favorite foods were.

  Blythe listened to his reply with a sinking feeling. Chicken and dumplings, purple hull peas, corn bread and fried deer with gravy and potatoes. No one in her family cooked dumplings, though she’d had them at Ellie’s. Blythe had no idea what purple hull peas were and found the notion of eating one of the beautiful deer she’d seen along the edges of the woods sad, even though Caleb and Colt had explained that deer were important staples in country life and that it was necessary to harvest them, since they multiplied quickly.

  She drew in a determined breath. She could do this. She would do this.

  When asked what his duties consisted of, he told her that he divided his time between overseeing the mill and going out into the woods with a crew that cut down trees, took off the branches and then snaked them back through the woods to the mill, where they sat until time to be cut into boards of varying lengths and widths.

  In turn, he asked her how she usually spent her days in Boston. It was embarrassing to tell him that she often stayed out at balls or the theater until the wee hours and then slept until late the following day. Her afternoons were spent sketching or visiting friends and shopping and doing a little needlework. Oh, there were days she did some work for the church, visiting shut-ins or taking food to sick people that one of the kitchen help cooked. She even visited the hospitals on occasion.

  Looking at it now, it seemed a frivolous and worthless way to spend time. What had she really been accomplishing as she’d lived her privileged life? Unexpected shame filled her.

  Deciding once more to be honest, she placed her napkin beside her plate and lifted her gaze to his. “I’m sure you won’t be a bit surprised when I tell you that I did nothing much. At least nothing that made a difference.”

  Will leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his wide chest, just listening as she told him about her days in Boston. As if he wanted to hear everything she had to say before he drew any conclusions.

  “When I looked back at it just now, it all seems like a waste. I wasn’t crazy about filling in for Allison, but I have to admit there’s a certain satisfaction in seeing the children grasp something they didn’t understand before and knowing that something I said or did helped them to get to that place.”

  “Would you like to keep teaching?”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. I’m not sure I’m really cut out for it. Besides, Homer will start looking for a single woman to take my place as soon as possible, but I doubt he’ll find anyone before school takes up again in the fall.”

  “So what will you do here all day to occupy yourself?” he asked.

  She blinked. What would she be doing? “Oh. Well. Whatever wifely things need doing, I suppose.” She looked around. “The first thing I plan to do is give everything a good scrubbing. The windows in my room were in need of a good wash.”

  “You’ll be bored silly in a couple of weeks.”

  “Nonsense,” she scoffed. “I admit to not having a clue to living the kind of life you live here, so I expect that learning how to do everything will keep me occupied for a long while. It would help if you made a list of things I’m responsible for, besides cooking and cleaning.”

  “I’ll be glad to make you a list,” he said. “And you’re right about things needing a good cleaning. I’m not much of a housekeeper. My mother cleans when she comes, but it’s been several months since I’ve seen her.”

  His mother. Blythe’s heart sank and a new feeling of inadequacy filled her. She’d forgotten about his mother. She hoped there would be time for her to learn how to take care of Will and his—their—home before his mother decided to pay a visit.

  “When do you expect her?”

  “Any day,” Will said. “She didn’t have time to make it for the wedding, but I imagine she’s planning her trip as we speak.”

  “So soon? I hope I have time to get things straightened out before she comes. There’s so much to do and I have all my things to put away and...and—”

  “Blythe.”

  The sound of his voice stopped her in midsentence. “Yes?”

  “Don’t worry about it. She won’t bite off your head. Like any mother, she’ll want to make certain her ba
by boy has married someone who’ll stand by him through thick and thin and be good to him. She pretty much wants for me what your family wants for you.”

  The words settled Blythe’s nerves somewhat. Of course, any mother wanted the best for her child. It was her job to make sure Will’s mother understood her commitment to their strange union.

  “Did she like Martha?” Blythe couldn’t resist asking.

  “No.”

  Leaving her with that short, succinct answer, Will pushed away from the table. “I need to get a move on. I’ll go out and get the buggy ready and tie it up here in front of the house.”

  Blythe nodded. “I’ll see you this evening, then.”

  “If the Good Lord’s willing and the creek don’t rise,” he said, grabbing his jacket off the hook near the door.

  “What?” she asked with a frown.

  Will paused in the doorway. “Nothing. See you this evening.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Will left the house and headed to the barn, literally shaking his head in disbelief. His new bride had no idea what the common country saying meant. She didn’t know how to cook. Probably had never cleaned a thing in her life or bought staples. He doubted she’d ever shopped for anything but fancy dresses and shoes and such. How on earth was she going to manage as a country wife?

  Still, he thought with a reluctant admiration, she seemed game to take it all on. That should have been surprising, and in some ways it was, but he’d heard all about her mother’s disastrous first marriage, how she’d worked hard to be a good wife to the fearsome Lucas Gentry, and how she’d picked up the pieces of her life and built a new one with the man Lucas had put in a wheelchair. At least some of Libby’s toughness had to have been passed down to her daughter, didn’t it?

  From everything Will could gather, Sam Granville had sired a couple of scrappers, too. Win was proof that he’d raised at least one. Blythe came from fighting stock, and that had to be a good thing for their future.

  One thing was certain. Even in the bulky robe she’d worn to breakfast and with her hair straggling around her face from her nighttime braid, there was no denying she was a beautiful woman. He grumbled beneath his breath, disgusted with himself for feeling anything for her. That was not in the deal, but he couldn’t help it if he thought she looked real pretty all rumpled and sleepy.

  Will sighed.

  The next few weeks promised to be very interesting.

  * * *

  After Will left, Blythe headed to the pantry to see what was there and found several kinds of dried beans, an almost-full ten-gallon tin filled with flour and smaller ones containing sugar and coffee. Lard. Salt, pepper, dried fruit, a tin of crackers and canned items, both home-canned and from the mercantile. Tomatoes, corn, green beans and several cans of what looked like vegetable soup lined the shelves. Curious about Will’s particular likes, she examined the cans from Gentry’s. Peaches. Plums. Pears. Condensed milk. He must like fruit. She would ask her mother how to make pies.

  With a good idea of what she had on hand, she wasted no time getting ready and heading to town. She didn’t have to worry about Banjo following her; she’d seen him tagging along behind Will.

  Blythe found her mother at the library. Libby, who was putting a book back on the shelf, glanced toward the door when she heard the bell ring. Unable to hide the surprise on her face, she shoved the book into place and hurried across the room.

  “Blythe! What are you doing here?” she asked. “Is everything all right?”

  “Everything is fine, Mama,” she said, “but I need to see what other things I need from the mercantile, and you need to teach me how to fry deer, make dumplings and bake pies, and I have to clean the house and—”

  “Blythe, slow down!” Libby said with a little laugh. “Why are you in such a tizzy?”

  Blythe looked a bit surprised. Tizzy. It seemed her life had been in turmoil for months and now, when she’d hoped things would settle down and she could begin to live a quiet life in the country...

  “Will’s mother is coming,” she blurted, getting to the heart of her panic.

  “Oh. That’s nice. When is she due to arrive?”

  “He doesn’t know, but soon, he thinks, and I have so much to do that I hardly know where to start, and I was hoping you could teach me to cook today, but here you are at the library and I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  “First of all, we’re going to close the library for a while, and you and I are going to Ellie’s for a cup of coffee and a talk. Bess Slade is only a woman. And if she’s anything like Hattie, she’s a sweetheart. But...” she added with a smile, “we have a stop to make first.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Rachel and Gabe’s. I’m a grandma again,” she said, a twinkle in her eyes.

  Blythe’s eyes widened. She’d been so worried about her own situation that she’d completely forgotten Gabe had left the wedding celebration yesterday with his wife in his arms. “She had the baby! I’m an aunt! When did she have him? Or her?”

  “It was another boy, born late yesterday evening,” Libby said with a smile. “You should have seen your brother! For a minute I thought I was going to have to deliver the baby and Edward was going to have to take care of Gabe.”

  “What did they name him?” Blythe asked, heading toward the door.

  Libby was right behind her. “Jude Thomas Gentry.”

  “I can’t wait to see him.”

  * * *

  Edward let them in when they reached the house, and Libby lifted her cheek for his kiss. Holding her mother’s hand, he led them down the carpeted hallway to the bedroom where Rachel sat propped up in bed with a shawl thrown around her shoulders and her head resting on her husband’s chest. Gabe’s long legs were stretched out on top of the covers. Hellos were said all around, and one particular greeting sent Blythe’s gaze winging to the person sitting near the bed, a small flannel bundle cradled in his arms.

  “Will?”

  Her husband of less than twenty-four hours looked at her, an expression on his face that resembled embarrassment.

  “I thought you were at the mill,” she said, trying to reconcile her impression of the stern man she’d married to the tender image of him holding a newborn.

  “I was, but we broke a chain first thing and I had to come to town and get another one.” He shot a look at his friend. “Imagine my surprise when I saw that the mercantile was closed for a ‘few minutes.’” The words were drawled in a tone of false sarcasm.

  “Hey,” Gabe said. “I missed out on all this with Danny. I’m not about to with this one.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Libby said. She gave Blythe a gentle push toward the giant in the fragile-looking rocker. “Go take a peek at him, Blythe. He’s so beautiful.”

  “Just as yours will be when you have one,” Rachel said from the bed.

  The chatter in the room stilled and Blythe’s gaze once again found her husband’s. The warmth she saw sent her heart racing double time. A dozen images flashed one by one through her mind, each evoking feelings she should not be having for a man who had married her without love. A man she had married without loving him. Breathtaking feelings, nonetheless.

  “You’re right,” Will said at last, shattering the brittle silence but never breaking eye contact with Blythe. “It will be.”

  Was it her imagination or did his voice hold a husky, throaty note?

  “Would you like to hold him?” Rachel asked.

  “Oh! May I?”

  “Well, of course, silly.”

  Blythe approached the rocking chair and leaned forward to take the baby from Will, who held the infant up in his two big hands and deposited him into her waiting arms. Their faces were so close she could see just how thick his ridiculously long eyelashes were. She caugh
t a whiff of that tantalizing scent that seemed to be a part of him, something that smelled like pine needles and some sort of manly shaving soap that played havoc with her senses. She resisted the impulse to lean forward and take a deeper breath.

  Madness.

  Instead she cradled Jude against her shoulder and straightened, turning her back on her husband and hopefully on the feeling created by his nearness.

  “Sit here,” Will said from behind her. “I’ve got to get back to the mill, if I can tear Gabe away long enough to sell me some chain.”

  He stood and moved aside for Blythe, who sank into it gratefully. Her legs were feeling a little shaky. Gabe slid off the side of the bed and turned to give Rachel a brief kiss on the mouth. His smile was something to behold. “Have I told you today how much I love you?”

  “Not more than ten or twelve times, but I don’t mind hearing it again.”

  “I love you.”

  Rachel’s smile was serene, content. “I know.”

  It was all Blythe could do to not look up and see how the tender exchange was affecting Will. Instead she kept her focus on the baby’s sweet little scrunched-up face.

  She felt something warm and heavy on her shoulder and turned to see Will’s hand resting there. She looked up.

  “I’ll see you at home.”

  The intimacy of the act left her speechless. She could only nod. She watched him turn and follow Edward and Gabe from the room. Looking back at the two women in the room, she caught the glance that passed between her mother and Rachel.

  “What’s that look about?” Blythe asked.

  “That’s what I was about to ask you,” Libby said.

  Blythe ignored them and placed the baby on the bed, where she unwrapped him, marveling at his little feet and toes and brushing her lips ever-so-softly against his silky hair. After a few minutes of paying proper homage to the newborn, Libby announced that they should head on over to Ellie’s and let Rachel rest. Blythe handed the baby over a bit reluctantly.

  A smile resided in Rachel’s eyes. “By this time next year, you may have one of these.”