by Nerys Leigh
Grace tore her attention from a shape in the distance that looked disturbingly like a bear but couldn’t possibly have been because she couldn’t cope with a bear on top of everything else. All she saw ahead of them was a group of derelict buildings.
“There what is?”
“Home sweet home.”
She glanced at him to check if he was looking at the same thing she was. “You... you mean those buildings?”
He nodded. “I know they ain’t much to look at, but they’re warm and dry and...” He frowned, apparently trying to come up with something else nice to say about the shabby looking place. Then his face lit up. “Cozy!”
“Cozy,” she murmured, regarding her new home with trepidation.
Maybe it was better on the inside.
She looked in the direction she’d seen the not-bear, but it was gone. The road they’d followed out of town had become a track through farmland, then two ruts worn into the earth as the terrain had turned to a gentle slope. She turned to look behind them but couldn’t see the town any longer through the trees and rocky outcrops they’d passed. Somehow, losing that last sight of civilization made her feel very alone.
Gabriel brought the buckboard to a halt when they reached the buildings and set the brake. Grace looked around. To the left was what she assumed was the house, if you could use so generous a word. It was tiny, no more than fifteen feet long, with a door, two windows, a porch spanning the front, and not much else. Across the dusty yard, to her right, were two barns. Beyond the barns was a fenced field and a smaller enclosure where several chickens pecked at the earth. And that was it.
She looked around to check if she’d missed anything. She hadn’t.
“You can go right on in,” Gabriel said, nodding towards the house. “I’ll bring your luggage in just now.”
He jumped down from the buckboard and moved to unhitch the horses, once again making no move to assist her down. At least she wasn’t surprised this time.
She climbed down to the packed earth yard and wandered towards the house, looking around her as she walked. Up close, the place wasn’t as derelict as she’d at first thought. Yes, there were overgrown weeds just about everywhere, and some sort of large metal contraption she couldn’t identify sat rusting between the barns, but the buildings themselves looked solid. At least, they didn’t appear in immediate danger of collapsing on her in her sleep.
It all just needed some work, she told herself. A few potted plants, some flowers, and it would be transformed into a beautiful home.
She almost believed it.
A deep woof brought her to a sudden halt. She spun round, images of a pack of vicious wolves racing to tear her to shreds flashing through her mind, and froze at the sight of the biggest dog she’d ever seen padding towards her from the direction of one of the barns.
“Be nice, Brute,” Gabriel said, glancing towards it. “That there’s Grace and she’s going to be living with us from now on. I told you about her.” He looked at Grace. “That’s Brutus. Don’t mind him, he won’t hurt you.”
She loved dogs. She’d had two of her own growing up. Those had both, however, been significantly smaller than the behemoth now approaching her. Brutus was a pale golden brown with a darker muzzle and ears and stood as tall as her thigh, with a solid, muscular body and an excess of skin drooping around his face. Huge as he was, he didn’t appear in any way threatening, so she stood up straight, took a deep breath, and waited for him to reach her.
“Good afternoon, Brutus,” she said, holding out her hand when he got closer. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
He stretched his head forward to sniff at her fingers, his tail slowly moving from side to side. Evidently deciding she was acceptable, he moved closer and sat down, looking up at her. She gently moved her hand to stroke his head and his tail swished faster across the ground. Encouraged, she rubbed both his ears. His tongue lolled from his mouth and he leaned happily into her touch.
For the first time since she’d arrived, a genuine smile touched her lips. “I hope you and I are going to be great friends, Brutus.”
Brutus. It didn’t fit him. Certainly he looked intimidating, but he seemed about as threatening as a duckling.
Giving his ears a final scratch, she turned back to the house and walked up the steps to the porch. Behind her she heard Brutus shake his head then pad up the steps after her, his claws clicking on the wooden porch. When she opened the door, he waited for her to walk inside then followed her.
She looked around at her new home. It didn’t take long. Somehow, the interior appeared even smaller than the outside. She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. Gabriel had told her in his letters that he owned a placer claim that produced a good amount of gold. If that was true, he wasn’t putting his profits into where he lived.
The interior of the house was a single room. A kitchen area sat to her right, with a cupboard and hutch, a small stove, and a rustic wooden table surrounded by four mismatched chairs. In front of her were two somewhat threadbare upholstered chairs with a low table between them. Leaning against the wall was a tall bookcase housing various household items and haphazardly folded clothing, but no books. Against the wall to her left was a double bed with a washstand and chest of drawers beside it. Clothing hung from hooks on the wall in the corner by the bed.
And that was more or less it.
Brutus wandered over to the stove and flopped down on a rug beside it.
Grace looked around again, feeling a little numb. Was this it? Was this her new life with her new husband? Was this what she’d moved all the way across the country for?
Well, no, she’d moved all the way across the country to find a place where she was wanted. But did Gabriel truly want her, or would any woman have done? Did she even want to be here?
Unbidden tears brimmed in her eyes and she wiped at them. “Is this where you want me, Lord?” she whispered.
How could this possibly be right? How could she be meant to be here?
A wet nose pushed into her palm and she looked down to see Brutus standing beside her. He whined, tentatively wagging his tail.
She sniffed and stroked his silky head. “At least you care how I feel.”
At the sound of footsteps on the porch outside she blinked rapidly and wiped the rest of her tears away.
Gabriel walked in carrying one of her heavy trunks and placed it on the floor by the bed.
“I cleared you some space,” he said, pointing to three empty hooks on the wall and an empty shelf on the bookcase. “And the middle two drawers are empty.” He stood looking at the chest of drawers for a few seconds, his fingers tapping against his thigh. “I, um, I know this is probably smaller than what you’re used to, but as I said, it’s cozy and dry and... and...” He nodded. “Anyway, I’ll bring the rest of your things in.”
She watched him walk out again then turned to look at the spaces he’d cleared for her. At home she’d had an entire chest of drawers and two matching armoires for her clothing. They were a set, designed especially for her sixteenth birthday, a gift from her parents. The cabinet maker had been French. Not that it mattered where he was from, but she’d been impressed when her father told her all the same.
She missed her home, and her room, and her father. She missed her life.
Shaking her head, she wiped at her eyes again. She’d only been here five minutes. All she needed was time to get used to her new home. It wasn’t so bad. It appeared clean and there were pretty curtains at the windows and cushions on the chairs and the walls were painted a fresh white. It wasn’t perfect, but she could work with it. It would be fine. It would all be fine.
She walked over to her trunk, Brutus padding after her.
It would all be just fine.
~ ~ ~
Gabriel brought her other two trunks in and left her to unpack.
By some careful folding and arranging, she managed to fit her everyday things into the drawers, shelf and hoo
ks she’d been given. The rest of her clothing, her fancier outfits, she left in one of the trunks. There was nowhere to hang them and she wasn’t sure when she’d need them anyway, so far from town as she was. She’d choose something to wear to church when Saturday came round and deal with what to do with it then.
She placed her most important possession, the photograph of her with her mother and father when she was twenty, on the table beside the bed. Sitting on the covers, she reached out to rub away a mark from the silver frame with her thumb.
“I know you’d tell me to try my best, Mama,” she whispered, “so that’s what I’m going to do. I know this isn’t what you wanted for me, but I finally got a man to marry me.”
She smiled as she said it, hoping the joke would make her feel better. It didn’t.
Brutus raised his head from the rug where he lay, looking towards the door. A few seconds later, Gabriel walked in. He was carrying the serving dish he’d brought from the Goodwin’s house. Brutus sniffed at the air.
Gabriel looked at the filled hooks on the wall and the no longer empty shelf on the bookcase as he placed the dish onto the table. “You find enough space to put everything?”
Brutus hauled himself to his feet and padded to the table. Gabriel moved the dish into the centre, away from his questing nose.
Her first instinct was to say yes, purely out of politeness. But she reminded herself that this was her home now, and she had a right to see that her own needs were met too.
“I unpacked the things I’ll need every day, but there are still some clothes there wasn’t room for.”
He glanced at the corner of the room where their clothing hung. “I reckon I could put more hooks up.”
She would rather have had a wardrobe where her clothes would be protected from dust, but it would probably be better to bring that up at a later date, when they were both more accustomed to her being there. “Thank you, that would be very helpful.”
He nodded and walked over to the stove. Brutus eyed the dish on the table, his tongue snaking out over his lips.
“I’ll set Mrs. Goodwin’s stew warming,” Gabriel said, taking a box of matches from a drawer, “then we can eat soon. If you’re hungry now, there’s bread and such in the cupboard.”
She hadn’t eaten for some time, but nerves had dampened her appetite. “I’m all right, thank you.”
Brutus glanced at Gabriel where he was crouched to light the firebox in the stove. Apparently reassured his master wasn’t watching, he rested his chin on the table and inched his nose towards the serving dish.
“Well, whenever you want anything, just take it,” Gabriel said, seemingly oblivious to his dog’s designs on their supper. “There’s a root cellar under the house. Entrance is round the side.”
“Mm hmm.” Covering her mouth to hide her smile, Grace nodded vaguely, mesmerized by Brutus’ attempts to reach the food. She possibly should have said something, but she wanted to see what would happen.
“It’s cool down there so I keep all the perishables there too.” He stoked the flame he’d ignited, added some sticks, pushed the firebox closed and rose to his feet.
Brutus stretched his neck across the table, his front paws almost leaving the floor as he strained to reach the delicious smelling food. With his nose within a couple of inches of the dish, he reached out his tongue.
Gabriel walked to the table and picked up the dish just before it was licked. Brutus dropped back to the floor and looked up at him with a whine. Grace wasn’t sure if it was guilt or accusation on his face.
Gabriel shook his head. “Anyone would think you never got fed, instead of eating me out of house and home.”
Brutus wagged his tail and looked pointedly at the dish.
Gabriel turned away and leaned down to place it in the oven. Then he opened a cupboard, took out a carrot, and handed it to the dog.
“You can wait like the rest of us.”
Brutus carried the carrot to his rug and settled down to eat.
Somehow, the brief exchange between man and dog served to reassure Grace a little. If her new husband cared about his dog, that meant he could care about her too. Didn’t it?
Not that she was comparing herself to a dog.
“Would you like to rest some?” Gabriel said, drawing her attention from Brutus and his carrot. He pushed his hands into his pockets then pulled them out again. “Or I could show you around the place.” He paused. “If you’d like.”
“I’d like that.” Maybe knowing more about her new home would make her feel better about it.
He nodded and glanced at Brutus as he headed for the door. “You coming?”
Brutus had the carrot lodged upright between his paws while he nibbled at the end. He flicked his eyes to Gabriel for a moment then lowered them back to the carrot. Gabriel shrugged one shoulder and walked out.
Grace followed him through the door, stifling a sigh. At least he’d left it open for her. But they were going to have to have a detailed discussion about manners at some point in the near future.
When she joined him outside, he was pulling a small leather pouch from his pocket. He unwound the thong holding it closed, took out a brown lump, and pushed it into his cheek. Grace scrunched her nose in disgust. Bad manners paled into insignificance when it came to chewing tobacco.
She opened her mouth to say something then closed it again, reminding herself she’d been there less than half an hour.
Get settled in first, start work on her husband’s less desirable qualities later.
He nodded to a rough table that stood against the wall of the house beside a large barrel, speaking around the lump of tobacco in his mouth. “That’s for washing the dishes. Water’s in the barrel. I fill it up every morning from the stream. I’ll show you where that is for when you need to do it.”
Their water came from a stream? Was that even hygienic? “You don’t have a pump?”
He trudged down the steps to the yard. “Never had no need for one. Stream’s not far. It comes down off the mountain, so it’s clean.”
She wanted to ask if there was no dirt in the mountains but didn’t. If he’d survived this long, she probably would, at least for now. She hoped.
She followed slowly down the steps, her gaze drawn to the vista to her right where the valley stretched into the distance. For much of the train journey she’d marveled at the wide open spaces they traveled through. She’d never imagined she’d have such a view right on her doorstep. It almost made up for the lack of plumbing.
Gabriel glanced back at her from where he stood at the doorway to one of the barns. “Something wrong?”
Not even aware she’d stopped, she resumed walking. “I was just admiring the view.”
He looked at the sumptuous greens and browns of the wide valley, the gray-blue mountains in the distance, and the wide, cloud-shrouded sky. God’s majestic creation laid out before them in all its glory.
“It’s all right, I guess.”
She had to stop herself from groaning out loud. Who was this man, who couldn’t see such beauty right in front of him? She’d only just met him and she was already beginning to wonder if they’d ever see anything the same way. How would they ever get along?
“This barn’s for all my tools and equipment and such.”
She walked up beside him and peered around the dim interior.
“And the buggy’s here, for whenever you want it.”
She studied the slightly shabby one-horse buggy, with its seat just big enough to fit two people, if they were close. “Will you teach me how to hitch it to the horse?”
She’d never had to do that at home since there was always a servant to do it for her. She wished now she’d paid attention.
“Sure.”
The second barn stood roughly ten feet from the first. As they walked past the gap between the two, he spat a stream of tobacco-laced saliva into the scrubby grass. She recoiled in disgust and looked away.
Three stalls took up half of the
space inside of the second barn and a strong smell of rat waste filled the enclosed space, making her shudder. She hated rats.
“This is where the horses and goat sleep.” He pointed to a line of barrels against the back wall. “That’s their feed. Make sure you close the lids good and tight after you’ve used them. Hay’s up top.” He pointed to a ladder leading to an opening in the ceiling.
She nodded, trying to breathe without actually breathing. He looked around, hands on his hips, as if trying to think of something else to say.
“I’ll take care of the animals most of the time, but I’ll show you what to do so you’ll know for when I’m not here.”
She nodded again. Could one be asphyxiated from holding one’s breath?
“All right then,” he said. “I suppose I’ll show you the animals now.”
She nodded a third time and rushed back outside, surreptitiously gulping in a few lungfuls of fresh air. If she was going to spend any time in that barn at all, something would need to be done about the smell.
Beside the barn was an enclosure with a wooden shack in the centre. Eight chickens pecked in the grass surrounding it. Beyond the chickens was a large, fenced field where the horses who’d pulled the buckboard were grazing, along with a brown goat.
The goat trotted over to them where they stood at the fence.
She reached through to rub its head. It tried to eat her sleeve. “What’s his name?”
“Hasn’t really got one. I just call it Goat. And it’s a she. She’s for milking, not eating, so don’t go killing her or nothing.”
No chance of that. “Understood.”
“And be careful around her. If she can find a way out, she will. Always shut the gate.”
“I will.”
“The chickens are for laying, but if any of them stop, you can kill that one for eating.”
She stared at him in horror. “I can what?”
“The chickens.” He indicated the birds which carried on rummaging through the soil for food, blissfully oblivious to any mention of their demise. “If any of them can’t lay anymore, we can eat it.”
“You’re expecting me to kill a chicken?” She’d never killed anything in her life. Not even a spider.
