“What? Colton Farmer? No, not at all.”
“I guess that is a relief,” she stated with a sigh. At least something wasn’t as bad as it sounded.
“He’s healthy as a horse. Did I mention he’s got a large farm? Prudence English will be taking you out there tomorrow so you can meet him. You met her at the gathering the other day. She’s the widow with…”
“I remember her.”
“You know, interrupting people all the time is considered rude, Miss Bowen. You might do well to let someone finish their sentences before you interject. We do things a bit differently here than they do back where you’re from.”
Alice sat there feeling embarrassed at the obvious attention to her runaway mouth. Her mother had called her excitable and enthusiastic. Perhaps Mr. Redburn and the others were right- maybe she was rude and outspoken. She just didn’t seem to fit in anywhere anymore.
Getting to her feet, she asked to be excused. She was mortified to realize that she might start crying in front of this man at any moment. At his nod, she exited the office and ran off to be alone.
Beans, the cook, or Mr. McGrueder as was his real name, gave her a curious look as she escaped the house, trying to find some place to be alone for a moment. It seemed that every door she opened had someone inside. She wanted to be alone, to think, and to absorb what was happening to her – and why. It seemed like nothing was going right in her life and she didn’t know what she’d done to create such havoc! Seeing Bertha outside under the tree, she opened the side gate and ran into the street – almost directly into a wagon that was passing by.
“Whoa!” she heard a deep voice shout, as she fell backwards onto her rear end there in the dirt near the wagon wheels. Her bottom smarted sorely almost as much as her pride. Those tears she’d been struggling to hold back suddenly spilled over. She was angry and frustrated at everything right now, including this!
“Miss! Are you alright?” Mortified, she heard the brake set on the wagon as someone dismounted. A set of boots appeared in front of her and a sloppy wet wooden block came flying out of nowhere landing in her lap.
“I’m fine,” Alice muttered, sticking up her hand arrogantly- silently asking for help. With pinched fingers, she plucked the wet piece of wood off of her lap and grimaced at the mark the water had left on her skirt. A few feet over and she’d have landed tail-first on a large rock. A warm hand grasped hers, hauling her up to her feet quickly and taking the wooden block away. She closed her eyes momentarily, steadying herself and then opened them.
Alice took a step backwards in shock.
The man in front of her was breathtaking.
His thick dark blond hair looked like it was kissed by the sun and complimented his tanned skin. He had a straight long nose and bright blue eyes that looked at her curiously. The side of his lip upturned as she stood there silently studying him. He suddenly frowned and looked away. Alice’s gaze followed his and she saw the young boy sitting in the wagon, chewing on the wooden block that had marred her dress. The man pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.
“I hope you are alright, miss. Are you crying because you’re injured? Shall I fetch the doctor?”
“No. That won’t be necessary.”
“Then why all the tears?”
“What’s it to you?” Alice snapped, instantly regretting her words as the echoes of the last few days came back to her. Rude, impolite, inappropriate- those words had been tossed her way, describing her, and she’d just proven them all correct once again.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You don’t owe me any explanation.”
“I don’t have to be rude either.”
“It’s only rude if you think I’m that thin-skinned to be offended by it,” he said with a shrug. “I kinda thought it was spunky. It’s a nice change actually for someone to speak candidly.”
Alice gaped in shock. She didn’t move as he took the handkerchief he was still holding and pressed it firmly in her hand. He pushed her fingers closed over the material, nodding, as she stood there dumbfounded and just looking at him.
“Dadddeeeee! Go! Now!” the young boy shouted, sending the wet, wooden block flying between them both and clapping happily at the trajectory. Of course, he was the boy’s father – which meant that he was married. Alice felt a moment’s regret knowing that he wasn’t one of the potential suitors she was supposed to meet tomorrow.
“Have a nice day miss,” the man said gently, picking up the now dirty block of wood. He climbed back into the wagon beside the boy, tossing the wood in the wagon bed where it was full of supplies. “Nothing is worth crying over and if it’s that bad… then make a change. I know I am. Good luck to you, miss.”
Standing there, she watched the wagon roll away. The little boy turned and waved happily. Alice found herself waving in response- staring at her hand like it was something foreign. She’d never been around children nor felt such utter friendship with someone so fast. Even back home, Rebecca and she had taken several tries to become good friends, yet when the tide had changed for Alice… her once good friend was gone.
Chapter 4
Prudence English was a gift from heaven… or so she thought.
Alice had been so nervous at meeting her upcoming groom that she’d been ill several times during the night. Abigail asked about her at one point, but that was when she’d mistakenly kicked the bedpost and cried out in pain. Her toe throbbed mercilessly, distracting her from the nausea in her abdomen. When Prudence arrived at the house, she immediately pulled Alice aside and hugged her like they’d been the best of friends for years.
“Don’t be intimidated,” Prudence said softly. “Trust in Him for all things.”
“Thank you.”
“That’s not necessary. I am here to be your chaperone and your ally. It will do well for all of us if things remain on the up and up. We don’t want word of a scandal getting around. It would ruin everyone’s name involved- including my own. The ladies of the auxiliary abide to strict rules of decorum, so as long as they are maintained – we shall be great friends.”
“I’d like that.”
“Then come along, my dear Alice. A farmer’s wife is a wonderful, yet busy, lifestyle. I spoke with your gentleman recently and he is quite beside himself.”
“How so?”
“Well the poor man is doing the work of both man and wife. A mother teaches her daughter how to run a house from the moment she’s a young girl. It takes time to learn these things. Mr. Farmer has had to learn quite quickly and struggling to maintain his home.”
“So? He can learn just as well as I can, can’t he? He’s not daft, is he?”
“Not at all my dear and you’d do well to hold that tongue. Men like a docile young lady, not one that spouts off her innermost thoughts.”
“Who’s spouting?” Alice muttered under her breath as she fetched her bonnet off of a peg nearby on the wall. It was one of her last ones she’d had from her days in Maryland. Once she’d had a bonnet in every color with a plethora of ribbons. Now, she was down to one serviceable bonnet that retained its shape.
“What was that, my dear?”
“Nothing Prudence. I’m glad you are here with me.”
“All right then. Shall we?” Prudence asked, fastening her sunhat upon her head and tilting it just so.
“Yes. The sooner that we’ve met than I can be rid of my anxiousness.”
“I understand dear. I too succumbed to a fit of the vapors when I met my dear Reginald. He was such a fierce lover of books and we discussed many of them together, causing my heart to flutter. I do so adore a man that uses his mind to win over a woman.”
“What happened to Reginald?”
“Apoplexy,” she told Alice heavily. “His mind that I loved so much was never the same. I believe he knew it too. He passed away in his sleep a week later. I still read to him on Sundays after church when I visit the cemetery.”
“That’s heartbreaking.”
>
“Oh no. He is here,” she said pointing to her head, smiling widely – and then pointed at her heart. “And here. Just because someone is gone, it doesn’t mean that they are forgotten. You still love them, just differently. Why are you standing there?”
“I thought we were riding?”
“No. A brisk walk is good for the constitution. Besides, it’s not far to Mr. Farmer’s homestead. We shall be there in a jiffy.”
Alice looked at Prudence in surprise and knotted the ribbon that belonged to her bonnet under her chin irately. The woman was a bit too perky and optimistic this early in the morning. She took off for the west road out of town and Alice had to struggle to keep up with her. The woman might be in her fifties, but she was obviously fit as a fiddle.
As they walked, Alice noticed a small home on the horizon. There were fields and fields of seed that had been sewn. Each field looked like the ground had been combed by the hand of God. Sprouts were erupting, sprinkling greenery here and there. A row of trees bordered the river in the distance and she could see a man far off, hard at work.
Alice expected to meet him, her Mr. Farmer, right away, but Prudence obviously thought differently.
“Come child, let’s make ourselves at home. Idle hands are the devil’s tools. If you’re to be a farmer’s wife, you might as well learn how to do so in order to impress your husband.”
“What do you mean?” Alice saw the note pinned to the door with a roughhewn nail. One good breeze would whisk it away. As she read the lines listed, she saw that it was a series of chores that were expected and had been left by her prospective suitor…
Blow it away! C’mon give me a good breeze and snatch that list right off the door, Alice prayed hard. What man in his right mind would leave a list of chores for a stranger to complete? Wasn’t he curious about her? Didn’t he want to meet or talk to her?
She’d felt so out of place and rejected yesterday to be the only girl without a suitor when the men came by. She’d told herself over and over again that duty had called him away -and that he really wanted to be there. The note on the door obviously told her she was wrong.
“He doesn’t want to meet me?”
“Oh, but he does! He is in dire need of help…”
“Then he could hire someone – not marry them!”
“My dear, have you a better place to stay? A singular plan in mind outlined by the Lord?”
“Honestly, my whole life the last six months has been a true disaster.”
“Then listen when I tell you to release it to Him. Have faith that you have been set upon a path to develop your soul.”
“If I roll my eyes will you be very angry?”
“If I box your ears will you be hurt?” Prudence asked pertly with a bright smile at Alice. “We shall be great friends, Alice. I like the spark to your soul- it reminds me of myself when I was younger.”
“Oh goodness,” she uttered under her breath.
“God is good. Now,” Prudence said excitedly, clasping her hands together over her heart. “Let’s start with the first task Mr. Farmer has set on us: his laundry.”
Alice crossed herself heartily and steeled herself for the task at hand as Prudence opened the front door to the small house, marching inside like a general in front of an army. Walking forward, she grabbed a basket that made Alice’s nose rankle in dismay at the odor. Alice followed her blankly until Prudence dropped the basket on the ground outside and looked at her curiously.
“Did you grab the soap or the washboard? I saw it on the table waiting for you. Wasn’t it kind of your Mr. Farmer to set it out for us?”
“Washboard? That silver wavy strange thing?”
“Oh dear,” Prudence said in dismay, and a dawning realization spread on her face. “How about we start from the beginning and take things one step at a time.”
Hours later, Alice realized that Prudence was unstoppable. The woman never tired. She attacked everything with an unholy gusto and zest. Both of their forearms were ruddy from the hot, soapy water – yet Prudence was smiling and Alice had a headache from grinding her teeth. The linens, shirts, and rags were all scrubbed with fanatical zeal and Alice was positive that the cotton was nearly threadbare now. Her knuckles certainly felt like they were!
That was just the first task on the list.
The second was to bake bread and churn the butter from the cows he’d milked. Prudence was beyond thrilled to share her mother’s recipe and chatted while Alice churned.
And churned.
And churned.
Prudence just talked and talked, while Alice shoved that wooden rod in and out of the ceramic crock angrily. She’d never been so horrified in her life at the amount of pain her body ached with. Her arms felt wobbly and burned with muscle that she wasn’t aware of. At first she’d thought that all the chit-chat that Prudence was doing was to keep her occupied, but now she released that her chaperone simply had a captive audience because the butter was taking forever to solidify in the crock.
“How long does this take exactly?”
“It takes what it takes,” Prudence said amicably in a sing-song voice. “I believe I will start the next task while we continue our chat. I do so like having a friend to talk to.”
“How many things are on that list?”
“Five.”
“And a farmer’s wife does this daily?”
“Oh no! No! No! Somedays you’ll need to help make soap or work on canning goods, unless the crops are terribly profitable. Other days you might be helping your husband in the field or aiding in butchering a chicken or two. You work as needed. Just remember, each day has something to be done.”
“Idle hands…?”
“Exactly!”
“My idle-loving hands are very, very sore.”
“I’ve got a salve for it and I am pretty sure that Mr. Farmer’s late wife would have had some as well. Grace was quite a resourceful woman. It was a true loss for her husband when she passed unexpectedly.” Alice listened to her prattle on about the virtues of how hard the deceased woman worked before she realized that the churn was getting harder and harder to move.
“I think the butter is done.”
“Perfect. Let’s put it away nicely for easy usage. I always liked to keep mine in a crock covered with a wax cloth as to keep the flies from it.”
The day dragged on for hours on end with absolutely no glimpse of her possible match anywhere in sight. They’d done the laundry, made the butter, baked a loaf of bread – and that was only this morning!
At Prudence’s recommendation, they had a miniscule lunch that was laughable, especially for all the work they’d done. Now they were mucking out the stalls and gathering up eggs from the small coop kept near the barn. She could see that Mr. Farmer owned a couple of horses, a cow, and a goat. It didn’t look like a big farm in the slightest and she wondered what kind of money her prospective groom’s farm brought in. Had she gone from the lap of luxury to pauper… only to remain so?
Alice was trying her best to ignore her chaffed hands – and her upbeat chaperone. There was absolutely no need for one if her suitor wasn’t going to even make a show! He simply had free help for the day and that irked her greatly. It was one thing to learn a new life, but another completely to be used and treated as if meeting her wasn’t worth his time. She felt more like a servant than she did a potential wife. What was wrong with this man for him to think it was acceptable to treat her this way?
It wasn’t just her hands that ached – it was her entire body. Her arms still felt weak from churning the butter and her back was on the verge of having spasms at using the fork to shovel the stalls. Straightening up, she rubbed her aching spine and realized that she heard voices nearby.
“Mr. Farmer, I assure you that she’ll be a suitable bride when the time comes,” Prudence’s voice grated down her nerves. “She’s a quite likeable girl with spirit.”
“I just need help around here – and I’m sure you see it.”
�
�Truthfully, you’ve done a fine job maintaining things without Grace.”
No, he hasn’t- the barn is a sty, Alice thought miserably, and froze.
“This isn’t living. It’s existing and I don’t know how long I can maintain it.”
He misses his wife! Alice could hear the pain in the man’s voice as it cracked with emotion. She could only guess that her suitor must have really loved the woman or was still in mourning for her. Would there be any place for her in his heart, or was she going to be just another mouth to feed?
Alice’s mind whirled with sadness, for herself and for the unknown man. She would have once said that she couldn’t imagine the loss of a loved one – but now she knew first-hand what a void it left in your soul. You felt broken, empty, and lost. Her heart ached painfully and stuttered when she heard a child’s voice.
Her suitor was a father.
A child without a mother.
Something she would become instantly marrying a stranger – a mother! She knew absolutely nothing about taking care of children. If they weren’t old enough to walk, talk, or fend for themselves… Alice had always quickly left the area to find another group of people to talk with. She didn’t want to discuss flowers, toys, or bugs. She liked sharing the latest gossip or discussing fashionable frocks.
“Daddy! Wets go! I wanna see the moo’s!” Alice heard the impatient young voice, and something jogged her memory. The voices sounded so very familiar.
“Prudence, can you take Jacob for a bit so I can finish the western field before the sun sets? He’s been pretty good but getting a little cranky. I can’t entertain him and plow.”
“Of course.”
“Thank you, I’m sorry to be a bother but if I don’t get the seed…”
“I understand, Mr. Farmer. You are on God’s calendar, not mine. We would be happy to care for him until you finish up.”
Alice blinked in surprise.
We would?
What was this ‘we’ Prudence was mentioning?
Why were the two of them so familiar with each other? It was odd that he chose to use her first name, and it made Alice very uncomfortable. She would bite her tongue for the time being and see if her chaperone alluded to how she knew Mr. Farmer. Was Mrs. English claiming that Alice would watch the child?
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