by Barbara Goss
He stepped out onto the porch to greet them as Clay was helping Vera from the carriage. His first thought was that she was perfect. She looked like the Vera he knew from her letters. Her lovely hair was the color of chestnuts, her brown eyes reminded him of a doe’s, and her slim figure was like Grace’s. Her face was unadorned but pleasant, especially when she smiled.
Wyatt approached the carriage and took her hand. “Welcome, Mrs. Stone.” He hoped his smile was welcoming.
“Thank you.” Vera gazed around the area. “This is a very nice home.”
“It’s only two years old. Clay and Grace have the family homestead, since our father lives with him. Our mother died nine years ago of pneumonia.”
Vera’s eyes flashed with genuine sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”
Clay jumped back into the driver’s seat of the carriage. “I’m sure you two don’t need me anymore.” He turned the carriage around and waved. “Congratulations!”
Wyatt felt awkward as he watched his brother ride away, leaving him alone with a woman he’d just met. He could tell that Vera was uncomfortable as well. He searched his lame brain for a way to ease the situation. “Won’t you come inside and see your new home?”
“I’d love to,” she replied with a broad smile.
He liked her smile. It was sweet and sincere.
Wyatt led her through the front door, her light valise under his arm. “You didn’t bring much with you. I hope that doesn’t mean you don’t plan on staying long.” He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth.
Vera laughed. “My trunk will arrive later.”
Wyatt let out a breath of relief.
“I’ll give you the pink room because it seems to fit you perfectly. It also has the best view of the farm.”
Vera followed him up the stairs.
He set her valise down inside a room at the very top of the stairs.
“The room to your far right is the master bedroom,” he felt himself blush. “The room next to the master bedroom is the nursery. They’re attached with a door. There are two other bedrooms down the hall in case ... well ... if we have children.”
Vera blushed as well, and Wyatt wished he’d have worded that differently.
He took her arm. “You can get settled later. I’d like to give you a tour of the place.”
Back on the first floor he showed her the sitting room, dining room, and kitchen. He introduced her to Rita, the housekeeper, and then led her outside to show her the barn, animals, and their acres of land.
“Have you ever milked a cow?” he asked.
“Every morning and evening for ten years,” Vera replied. “My family didn’t own a farm, but we had a cow and some chickens. We had a small garden, too. With nine children, we saved money wherever we could.”
“As I recall, you told me your parents died when their carriage went over a bridge as it collapsed. How dreadful. I’m truly sorry.”
“We’d crossed that rickety bridge so often and never imagined ... it was the only way to get to town, our church, and school. Fortunately, the children didn’t go into town with them that day. It was their wedding anniversary, and they planned to have dinner at the new hotel.”
“That must have been a painful experience for all of you.”
“It was, but it left me in charge, so I didn’t have time to grieve.”
“You’re a strong woman, Vera.”
“Maybe too strong sometimes.”
~~~~***~~~~
Vera was happy to say farewell to the housekeeper—she didn’t agree with half the things she did, and Vera couldn’t wait to be in charge. The first day without the woman, she rose early to make Wyatt’s breakfast. The housekeeper had made him pancakes each day, claiming it was his favorite. Vera wondered if Wyatt might not be sick of pancakes by then.
She browned some ham, coddled a few eggs, and made potato skins fried in onions and topped with cheese and mushrooms. In her family home, they’d even eaten the potato peels; they wasted nothing, and she had several recipes for them.
Vera set the breakfast down in front of him.
Wyatt looked up and smiled. “Wow! Thank you. I was praying you wouldn’t make pancakes. When Rita was first hired, she asked if I liked pancakes. Of course, I said I did.” Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Then, she made them every single morning.” He tasted the potato skins. “Mmm, this is a treat.”
Vera smiled. “I love to cook, especially when it’s appreciated. Thank you.” Vera went back into the kitchen and brought out a cup of coffee. “Rita said you preferred coffee in the morning and tea the rest of the day.”
“Yes.” He sipped the coffee gingerly. “This is perfect.”
Vera took a seat at the table. “Hilda didn’t appreciate a new person milking her this morning, and she kicked some milk out of the bucket, but I’ll have enough to make you a fine dessert for dinner.”
“Won’t you join me for breakfast?” he asked.
“No. I grabbed a piece of ham on a slice of bread while I cooked.”
Wyatt set his fork down and gave her a serious look. “I’d like for us to take our meals together.”
“Oh. Well, I suppose I could make some changes to my routine. You see, at home, there weren’t enough chairs at the table, and I was just so busy.”
“You are not at home caring for eight, nor are you my housekeeper. You’re my wife, and a wife is also a man’s companion.” He smiled and patted her hand. “I’d like your company at mealtime.”
Vera smiled. “I’d be delighted.”
“I also don’t want you working so hard that you become as stressed as you did at home. I’m not a strict taskmaster. If something doesn’t get done, that’s fine.” Wyatt picked up his fork and resumed eating. “By the way, this breakfast is fantastic.”
Vera fiddled with a napkin on the table. “Am I allowed to ride into town if I need something?”
“Allowed?” Wyatt laughed. “Why, of course. Anytime you want. Just say the word, and I’ll have Jack hitch-up the wagon or saddle you a horse.”
“Jack?”
“I hired him to help out until my arm heals, but he’s doing such a great job, I may keep him on. That will give you and I more time to get better acquainted.”
Vera felt herself blush again. “I’d like that.”
A week later, Vera noticed that Wyatt’s face had cleared up, and his nose was no longer bandaged. He was a very handsome man. Instead of jumping for joy that she’d married a handsome man, she felt saddened, feeling as if he’d never come to love her; he was out of her class.
His arm was still in a sling, but he did as much as he could around the farm. If she thought Wyatt was handsome, Jack, the new hired man, was even more so. She wondered what they fed men in Kansas. Wyatt was tall and lanky with beautiful blue eyes. His wavy, dark hair framed his oval face perfectly. Jack was not as tall, but he was more muscular than Wyatt. He had blond hair and big dimples when he smiled. They were both perfect gentlemen, but they made her feel common and unattractive.
Chapter Three
Wyatt shook his head slowly while watching his new wife milk the cow. She was an amazing farmer’s wife. Vera and Grace had worked together canning and preserving for the winter months. They seemed to get along beautifully. Wyatt thought that they were a lot alike—both of them were on the unadorned side, but definitely not unattractive; they just weren’t made up with makeup, hairdos, and expensive clothing. Grace’s eyes were her best feature, and Vera had an alluring smile. Wyatt’s only worry was whether he could ever be physically attracted to Vera, which would cause a problem for their marriage. He wanted children. He liked Vera—truly liked her—and he supposed that was a good start.
Vera and Grace dressed similarly, too. Their everyday dresses were clean and neat but loose-fitting, giving just a hint of their figures.
Wyatt came up behind Vera to watch her finish milking the cow. She pulled the bucket out from beneath Hilda and gave her an affectionate pat.
; Vera turned and gasped when she realized he was watching her. “Oh! You scared me, Wyatt. Did you tiptoe up behind me?”
He smiled. “Sorry. You and Hilda seem to get along nicely.”
Vera stood and wiped her hands on her apron. “Yes. Hilda and I are now friends.”
“I just wanted the chance to tell you what a great job you’re doing.”
Vera gave him one of her fantastic smiles. “Why, thank you. That’s something I seldom heard at home.”
“Do you miss the children very much?”
Vera sighed. “I didn’t think I would, especially this soon, but I do. I don’t miss the drudgery, but I miss them, especially Thea. She and I were close.” She shrugged. “But I like it here, too. I hope you’ll be all right with me going home for a visit at some point.”
“Winter is a good time for you to visit because there isn’t as much farm work. I’d miss your cooking, but I could survive. Grace is very good about sending food over or inviting me there to eat.” Wyatt shuffled his feet nervously. “How long of a visit were you thinking?”
“A week would be enough, trust me. I love my siblings, but I have a terrible personality fault. I can’t seem to stop taking charge and seeing fault in the way others do things. If they don’t do them the way I do, they’re wrong. I don’t think I could stay longer than it takes to give them all my love and hurry back here.”
“What about a Christmas trip?” Wyatt asked, but he regretted his words. He didn’t want to spend Christmas alone or with his brother’s family. Wyatt loved his family, but he felt that at his age he should start his own Christmas celebrations and customs.
“Why don’t you accompany me?”
“To Missouri?”
“Yes. My family would love to meet you, and I’d hate to travel alone, especially for the holidays. You could keep me from criticizing how they do things there.”
Wyatt tilted his head in thought. He ran through all of the reasons he couldn’t go with her, and then answered, “I like the idea.”
“You do?” Vera asked with a smile and bright eyes.
“Yes. Isn’t that what marriage is about: companionship?”
“Indeed, it is,” Vera said, still smiling. “Now, I can hardly wait to leave.”
Wyatt said, “I’ll check the calendar, but I think we could leave a week before Christmas and return just before the new year. What do you think?”
Vera clapped her hands together. “It sounds perfect.”
“It’s a plan, then. I’ll order the train tickets.”
Vera said, “I’m going into town this afternoon to buy a few supplies; do you need anything?”
“You could see if we have any mail.”
“Will do.”
“Shall I saddle a horse or harness the wagon?”
“I’ll need the wagon to carry back the supplies.”
“I wonder if Grace needs anything,” he suggested.
“Yes, and perhaps she’ll want to come along.”
~~~***~~~
The two women strolled through the aisles of the general store.
Grace laughed. “I don’t really need anything, I just came along to keep you company.”
“I’m looking for something colorful to wrap gifts with.” Vera spun the rolls of material around, inspecting each.
“Gifts?” Grace asked. “You aren’t thinking of buying gifts for all eight siblings, are you?”
“No.” Vera tapped a red, gold, and green plaid material. “This one would be perfect. Actually, we’ve always made Christmas gifts for each other in our family. We never had the money to buy any. Just the material to make them nearly broke our banks. Our farm was tiny.”
“Are you going to sew something with that material?”
“No, I’ll wrap my gifts in it. Then, I’ll pick out some ribbon to tie them closed.”
“What a fantastic idea,” Grace said. “Even I could afford to do that.”
“Wyatt didn’t tell me how much money we have or don’t have, but he said we had a good crop this year, and I could spend up to five dollars on anything I wanted.”
“He must have gotten that idea from his brother. Clay gives me five dollars to spend, too.”
Vera ordered the material and some ribbon before telling Grace, “I know exactly what I’ll make for my siblings, but I don’t know what to make Wyatt.”
Grace sighed. “I have that problem every year. Sometimes, I just bake him something special. This year, however, I have something very special to give him.”
“Oh, tell me—maybe I can get the same for Wyatt.”
Grace laughed. “I don’t think you can ... at least, not yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t tell anyone--I want it to be a surprise, but we’re going to have a child in the spring.”
Vera grabbed Grace and hugged her. “Congratulations! I won’t breathe a word of it. The surprise will be gift enough for Clay. He might even faint. How long have you two been married?”
“Five years.”
“Oh, my!”
“God has finally blessed us.”
Vera felt herself blush. “Now I know why I can’t give Wyatt the same gift.”
Now, Grace was the one to blush. “You two ... haven’t ... um ... ”
“No, not yet. We’re still getting acquainted.”
“It will come. Give it some time and prayer.”
Vera spent every spare moment knitting, crocheting, or embroidering. She still had no idea what to give Wyatt. Would he give her a gift? Their first Christmas might be an uncomfortable one. She thought about knitting him some gloves or a scarf. She could always hide the gift if he didn’t offer her one. That way it wouldn’t be awkward. Maybe she’d have enough yarn to make him gloves and a scarf.
She thought about Grace’s baby as she sewed. Did she want children? Maybe one or two, but certainly not nine. She doubted she and Wyatt would get to the intimate stage for a while, so she didn’t have to worry about increasing just yet.
How might Wyatt fit in back home? Would the kids like him? She knew they would. Who wouldn’t like Wyatt? He was the friendliest man she’d ever known. She grew fonder of him each day, although he had made no intimate advances, such as holding her hand or putting his arm around her as of yet. Vera thought she might like it if he did, though. She’d welcome any sign of affection from him.
After six weeks of marriage, Vera still didn’t know Wyatt very well. She knew he was well-liked in the community. At church, everyone greeted him and seemed fond of him. He loved his father and brother and they seemed to get along wonderfully. He treated her like a princess—a distant one that sat on a shelf—but he smiled at her a lot, and he had a wicked smile.
~~~***~~~
Thanksgiving was approaching, and the church announced it would have its yearly celebration. The minister and his wife, James and Polly Sterling, had each family draw a slip of paper from a bowl after the service. Written on the paper was the dish the family was to bring. She gave them permission to exchange with someone else if they couldn’t bring the assigned dish.
Vera eagerly unfolded her slip, worried they’d want something she hadn’t made before, but smiled when she saw that her paper read, “apple pie.” She showed it to Grace.
“I have cornbread,” Grace said. “It’s my specialty.”
Vera heard the other women exclaiming over or trading their papers.
“Who supplies the turkey?” Vera asked.
“Mr. Butler. He owns the general store and will contribute several birds, and Polly does the roasting with the help of Mrs. Butler, and Reverend James.” Grace squeezed Vera’s arm. “You will love the dinner.”
Vera and Grace went outside to meet their husbands, who were waiting for them by their buggies. It had grown cool, and the women put up their collars and scurried to their husbands.
“What do we bring this year?” Clay asked as he helped his wife into the buggy.
“Cornbread.”
&nb
sp; “Now, aren’t they lucky to get the best cornbread in town?” Clay said.
Wyatt helped Vera into the buggy. “What do you have to make?”
“Apple pie.”
“You make an excellent apple pie,” he said as he nudged the buggy forward. “And Clay and I have the most important job: getting the food to the church without eating it.”
Vera and Wyatt laughed. Vera thought about how good it felt to be in his company and to laugh together.
By Thanksgiving, Wyatt’s arm was out of the sling, and he and Jack had finished all of their outside work. Vera had made several pies to store in the root cellar, as well as the one that would go to their dinner at the church.
They had invited Jack to the church dinner. Vera felt special walking into the church—which also served as the schoolhouse—with two of the handsomest men in the county.
The men had cleared out all of the desks and school items and set up a table so long it stretched from the far wall to the front of the building. The women placed their food contributions on the table while Polly arranged everything where she wanted it.
Mrs. Butler had placed a stack of plates at one end of the table along with eating utensils. The church had placed several small tables around the large room, some round and some square. Each table had a colorful paper turkey as the centerpiece. Mr. Huxley, the schoolmaster, proudly announced that the children had worked hard on the turkeys. Several people mentioned how nicely the children’s work had turned out.
Wyatt steered Vera and Jack to a round table at which they took their places. When Clay and Grace came in, Wyatt waved them over. There was just enough room at their table for the five of them.
Mr. Butler, along with two other men, carried in the roasted turkeys. The crowd said, “ooh” and “ahh,” when they saw the turkeys. This was the most magnificent dinner Vera had ever seen or taken part in.
