by Stella Clark
They chatted a while longer and then she returned upstairs to get ready. She giggled as she recalled Helen’s parting shot—to spend more time on her hair. Even Nate was not averse to a pretty woman. She grabbed a shawl and proceeded downstairs and, as Helen had promised, a young man who ran errands at the boarding house was waiting to drive her to the farm.
All sorts of images popped into her mind. She sat stiffly with anticipation. Was this the beginning of their lives together? She couldn’t help but allow the seed of hope to grow and swell, as did her happiness. She hadn’t realized how badly she wanted to be Nate’s wife.
She had admired him from the first moment she had seen him. He was handsome, kind, and hardworking, and all of her life, Clara had never imagined that a man like him would be interested in someone like her.
Chapter Eleven
Nate knew that something was different as soon as he walked in through the back door. A scent of cleanliness pervaded the air. Curious, he entered the kitchen, and he knew for sure that somebody had been in the kitchen.
The dirty dishes he had left piled up in the kitchen sink were now gleaming and drying on the side. The table was scrubbed clean and everything put back in its place. His mind worked fast. It couldn’t be Helen, could it? But her life was very busy with three children and a boarding house to run.
Curious to solve the mystery, he entered further into the house, taking care to make as little noise as possible. He found her in the parlor, sprawled on the armchair, her head thrown back, and her face creased into a grimace. Clara groaned and grasped her right leg. Then her eyes popped open and she saw him standing in the doorway.
“Nate! I didn’t hear you come in,” she cried and sat up straight.
“I know, you fell asleep. What’s going on here? You didn’t let me know you were coming,” he said. “Are you all right? You looked as though you were in pain.”
“Not at all,” she said with a smile. “I just thought I’d come and clean and cook for you a meal. Surely you’ve missed a homemade meal.”
Her smile melted his heart and he found himself smiling in response. He sniffed the air. “Yes, something does smell good.”
“Let’s go into the kitchen and I’ll serve you,” Clara said and got to her feet.
The next seconds happened slowly, as if time stood still. She stood and as she took one step forward, her legs buckled under her, and she crumpled to the floor. He crossed the distance between them and knelt by her side.
She buried her face in her hands and loud sobs wracked her body. Nate laid his hand on her shoulder and pulled her to him.
“Clara, are you all right? Shall I go for Dr. Thompson?” he asked, worry gripping his insides. Whatever was wrong, he knew it had something to do with all the work she had done around the house.
He fished for a handkerchief in his pocket and handed it to her. She took it and mopped her face and slowly got herself under control. She looked at him with fearful eyes.
“Please don’t call the doctor. My leg usually becomes weak after I stand for too long on it without giving it time to rest,” she explained.
“Why did you push yourself so hard?” he asked.
She shrugged and lowered her gaze. “I thought if you saw what a hard worker I was, you’d want to court me.”
Nate groaned and got to his feet. Then he helped Clara into a chair. Thinking back, he understood why she thought that there was a chance for them. They had had a wonderful time when she and the children had come to the farm the previous weekend.
And to be honest, he had begun to entertain thoughts of Clara as his wife. Had she read his mind? Of course not! He quickly dismissed the thought. She had probably noted how well they got along and her hopes had grown.
“Clara, we already went over this,” he said, hating himself for what he was about to say. But he couldn’t have her think anything could happen between them. He looked down at her leg. It looked swollen, and he longed to touch it and sooth it.
“I know, but you judged me incorrectly. My leg doesn’t stop me from performing my chores. Ask Helen.”
He looked away. He didn’t want to hurt her, but she had to see things as they were. To open her eyes, Nate knew he was going to have to be cruel. His insides squeezed, and he forced himself to speak.
“Clara, look what happened today. You cleaned and cooked and what happened?”
“I told you, I neglected to take rests after every half an hour. I got carried away,” she said, a note of hysteria in her voice.
“I don’t know how else to say it to you, Clara, but I can’t marry you. It doesn’t matter how much I like you. I can’t marry a woman who’ll be a burden to me!”
When the words were out, Nate instantly regretted his outburst. Clara’s hands flew to her mouth and her eyes widened. After a few seconds, she got to her feet.
“Very well. Rest assured, I’ll not disturb you again,” she said stiffly and took her shawl on the chair.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Back to the boarding house,” she said.
“I’ll take you,” he said.
“No! I’ll walk. I don’t want anything to do with you,” she said, her voice hard.
She limped off, and he heard the front door open and then close. He immediately got up and went out through the back door. He hurried to the barn and hitched the wagon. When he was done, he drove it as fast as he could.
Nate searched the road and didn’t see her. Surely she couldn’t have walked that fast, not with a bad leg? He stopped the wagon and saw her, seated on a log by the side of the road, her red-rimmed eyes on him.
“I’m sorry, Clara, I shouldn’t have said that,” he said.
“But it’s true,” she said.
His chest ached as though his own words were inflicting pain in him. He jumped from the box seat of the wagon and went to her. “I’m a foolish man, Clara. Please forgive me. I shouldn’t have said that.”
She searched his face and then nodded, apparently satisfied with what she saw.
“I want us to be friends,” he said. “We started off on the wrong foot and I’d like to correct that. One day you’ll find a man who truly deserves you.”
Chapter Twelve
“I imagine you’re very busy, being the only doctor in town?” Clara asked, and adopted an interested countenance when the truth was that she didn’t care about the answer.
Dr. Thompson was a good man and quite handsome with a neatly trimmed dark moustache and spectacles perched on his nose. The trouble was, Clara was simply not interested in him.
He smiled, pleased with her question, and before answering, he tugged at his beard. “You’re correct, the surgery is quite busy, and I’ve been planning to expand it by …”
Clara could not keep her mind on the conversation. It was six in the evening and she idly wondered what Nate was doing. Probably eating a dinner he had hurriedly thrown into a pot. She had taken to imagining him at different times of the day.
It probably had something to do with the fact that it had been two weeks since he had come to the boarding house. Clara knew it was best that he stay away, but with each day he was gone, her love for him grew stronger.
A sharp poke of an elbow on her left side brought her back to the present. She turned to Helen. She gestured at the doctor, who was still talking. Clara stifled a sigh and shot Helen an apologetic look. She couldn’t wait for dinner to be over and for Dr. Thompson to take his leave.
There was no hope for her with any other man. Her heart belonged to Nate, whether she wanted it or not. The previous week, Helen had invited a miner by the name of Nathan, and no matter how hard Clara had tried, she could not find it in herself to feign interest.
Now, she looked across the table and noticed the new teacher, Emma, staring intently at Dr. Thompson. Clara pushed her chair back.
“Excuse me, I must clear the dinner table, but I’m sure Miss Emma would be happy to take my place.”
Miss Emma’s e
yes widened in surprise, but she quickly recovered and stood up. “I’d be happy to join you, Dr. Thompson.”
Helen followed her to the kitchen. “What’s the matter with you? You’re just going to hand Dr. Thompson over to Miss Emma?”
Before Clara could answer, the deafening sound of thunder filled the kitchen and shook the house, and lightning lit the kitchen. What seemed liked torrents of rain followed, the sound deafening. Clara had never experienced anything like it.
The downpour was heavy, and she felt glad to be safe indoors.
“It’s a storm. It happens sometimes,” Helen said, her brow creased with worry. “Nate’s crops will be destroyed if this rain doesn’t stop.”
Clara thought of the beautifully lined crops in Nate’s fields and how their destruction would shatter him. She said a silent prayer for the rain to abate, but it seemed to increase with every second. Helen peered out the window for signs of it ending.
“Is it dangerous?” she asked Helen.
“Not if you stay indoors,” she said grimly. “Most people know to stay safe indoors in such weather.”
She hoped that Nate would not do anything foolish.
“I’ll go there first thing in the morning,” Helen said. “Will you see to breakfast and the children?”
“No problem.”
***
The rain went on unabated all evening and most of the night. Clara got little sleep as her mind was on Nate out there in his farm. She woke up early the following morning and found that Helen had already left for the farm. The next couple of hours went by quickly as she was kept busy preparing and serving breakfast for the boarders and the children.
Helen returned just before ten and Clara and the children went out the back to meet her.
“It’s as bad as we thought,” Helen said as she climbed down from the buggy. “All the crops are destroyed, and not just for Nate, but all the other farmers as well.”
Clara gasped. “Oh no! What will they do?”
“They have a plan. They’re all determined to replant, but they have to get it done in a few days’ time to get a chance to harvest in the summer.”
Oh, Nate. She wanted to ask more questions, but she didn’t want Helen to know how strong her feelings for Nate were. How was he faring? Was he very sad? Hopeful? She felt so helpless.
“I wish I could help, but I’m needed here,” Helen said as they walked into the house.
It came to Clara then. She could help Nate replant. She had never planted anything in her life, but surely it involved digging a small hole, dropping the seed in, and covering it up with soil. She could do that. The last time she had tried to help Nate came to mind, and she almost lost her courage.
This time she would be careful. She would not let her leg get tired to the point of being unable to support her.
“I’ll go and help,” she said to Helen when they entered the kitchen.
“You will? After what happened the other time?”
“This is different. Nate needs help, and whatever happened between us, I like to think that we can help each other in times of trouble.”
Helen placed her hand on Clara’s arm. “You’re a good person, Clara Slater, and I’m blessed to have you as my friend.”
“So am I,” Clara said. “Can I use the buggy? I hope I remember everything I’ve been taught.”
“Of course you can. Is there food you can carry? It’ll save you cooking time.”
“Yes, there’s a lot of beef stew,” Clara said, her body tight with the anticipation of seeing Nate in such unfortunate circumstances.
Less than half an hour later, she was guiding the buggy down the road, away from town. As the farms came into view, she saw the flattened plants and her heart ached for all the farmers. As Helen had said, she could see people in the fields, busy planting. She urged the horse to move faster.
Chapter Thirteen
Nate worked like the devil himself was after him. He had been at it since morning and refused to stop and rest, or else the worry would overwhelm him. He carried a bag of corn attached to his belt and with his hoe, he dug a hole and threw in a couple of seeds.
It would have been far easier if, as neighbors, they had gathered in one farm, planted, and then moved on to the next. He had tried to convince his nearest neighbors, but they had been in a state of panic and had preferred working on their own fields.
Not that he blamed them. If they didn’t get the seeds down as quickly as possible, there would be nothing to harvest. After working for an hour, he stood up to stretch his back. When he looked at the area he still needed to plant, he wanted to weep.
Such a waste. Despair threatened to overwhelm him. Refusing to give in to it, Nate reminded himself of the nest egg he had in the bank. It would see him through for two seasons without a harvest, and he wouldn’t starve. When this was over, he would give some serious thought to beef cattle farming.
His farm was big enough to support several hundred beef cattle, and it would complement the crops, while cushioning him against loss from the weather. With renewed vigor, he went back to work, trying to get as much corn planted as he could.
It must have been an hour later when he became aware of approaching footsteps. He looked up and for a second he thought he was imagining Clara walking his way, carrying a hoe.
“Clara?”
She smiled. “The very same,” she said cheerfully, and he was grateful for it. “I came to help.”
“Clara, no,” he said. “Please don’t think I don’t appreciate it, because I do, but I don’t want you to injure your leg. Remember what happened the last time?”
“That time was my own fault for not resting it every thirty minutes. I should have known better.”
He was too tired to argue, and he proceeded to share some of the seeds with her and to show her how he was planting. He admitted to himself a few minutes later how nice it was to have Clara with him. He felt less lonely and much cheered.
Every so often, he threw a glance her way, but she looked fine. She was hardly breaking a sweat, working as though she had been planting all her life.
“Time for a rest,” he said.
“Okay,” she said without argument, and he also took a rest.
“It’s so peaceful here, so different from the city,” she said, looking around.
“A lot of folk from the East don’t like it much. They say it’s too lonely.”
She chuckled. “I can imagine my pa saying that.”
He was about to ask after her father, then he remembered her reaction the other time.
“Shall we go on?” she said and picked up her hoe. “My father and I, we’ve never had a good relationship. He blames me for my mother running away when I was young and says he sacrificed a lot to care for me.”
“Don’t all parents do that?”
She inhaled deeply. “Well yes, but in my case, he always said it was for nothing. No man would marry me with a bad leg, and I would always be a burden to him.”
Shock rendered him immobile and he stopped moving. He couldn’t believe that a father could say such things to his child. Guilt flooded him. He had done the same thing as her father and yet, here she was, helping him in his hour of need.
He didn’t like himself very much at that moment. “I’m really sorry,” Nate said, his voice choked. He meant for his part in hurting her and reminding her of her father.
She didn’t respond, and they worked in silence for the next hour. Again, he reminded her to take a rest, and she teased him that he was worse than the worst boss. They chatted easily, as if they had known each other for years. At noon, Clara said there was food in the house.
“Helen insisted I bring cooked food,” she said.
His stomach growled loudly, and they both laughed. “Helen is a very smart woman, and so are you,” he said and touched her cheek.
She went still, and their gazes fused. Nate’s gaze lowered to her mouth. How would it feel to kiss her? He tore his gaze away with a lot of eff
ort and the moment was broken. It was a little awkward as they ate their lunch, but their hunger meant they didn’t dwell on it too much.
He noticed more of Clara than he ever had. Like how soft-looking her skin was and how, when she laughed, her eyes lit up. He was happy to note that so far, her leg had not given her a problem. He would not have forgiven himself for taking advantage of her generous nature.
After lunch, they worked steadily for the rest of the afternoon and by the end of the day, he was amazed at how much they had done.
“You know, we might just finish replanting everywhere!” he exclaimed. And then he realized that he was assuming that Clara would be there the following day. “Will you come tomorrow?”
As he waited for her answer, it hit Nate how disappointed he would be if she said no. And it wasn’t for the help she was giving him. She energized him and made him want to work even harder.
“Of course I will,” she said from the driver’s seat of the buggy. “I don’t do half jobs,” she quipped, and with a pull of the reins, she was off.
Chapter Fourteen
“I still don’t understand why you have to go,” Helen said, standing by her side in her room as she packed her clothes. “You told me how mean your father is; why do you want to go back to him?”
Clara sighed. She searched for words to explain to Helen why she was leaving and came up with nothing. Staying would be too painful. She loved Nate with an intensity that was dizzying. How could she stay in the same town with a man who didn’t share her love?
It was a recipe for lifelong pain. She would rather be back home and wonder if he had married, but never know for sure.
Even dealing with her father’s insults now seemed easier. Anything was tolerable as long as she didn’t have to see Nate and spend her life pining for him.
“It’s my home,” Clara simply said. No matter how badly her father treated her, she still belonged with him.
