She checked the milk’s temperature. “Perfect, would you pour it into the bottle?”
When she attempted to push herself into a sitting position to feed Amos, she moaned in pain.
“I’ll feed him.”
Amos appeared small in Joseph’s large, strong hands and quieted before the nipple entered his mouth. Emma’s eyes misted at the tenderness Joseph displayed. His manner since her arrival had been brusque and gruff, but watching him with Amos, she saw the man she’d learned to love through his letters.
“Right nice looking when he’s sleeping,” Joseph said.
“I suggest you should put him on your chest and pat his back. If he doesn’t burp, he’ll soon be screaming.”
Joseph completed the task and returned the baby to the basket. “I’ll put him in the main room. Then we need to see to your care.”
Emma felt herself flush. “I’m fine.”
“I don’t believe you’re being truthful about the ankle. I’ll get liniment and heat a couple of rocks.”
While he was gone, Emma touched the tender shoulder where she’d landed. She presumed the healing warmth from the stones would fix that problem, but her ankle throbbed.
“Here you are.” He placed the items on the table by the bed. “Do you need anything else?”
She looked down. “I’m ashamed to ask but fear I need help with my left boot. I can’t manage to remove it.”
"Miss York, Emma, ways on the frontier are different from city ways. We do what has to be done." He knelt by the end of the bed and unlaced and loosened the boot to remove it. He ran his fingers over the ankle and the foot.
She broke into tears. “I’m sorry you had to see my deformity. It’s shameful.”
“Your ankle is hot. I’m going to put some ointment on it and wrap it. Think you’ll be off your feet for a few days. You also have sore spots on your foot where the shoe rubs. I have some salve.”
“You shouldn’t touch my feet.” Emma hid her face.
“Don’t see anyone else around, so I’ll have to do. Doctor’s a friend, one I’d like to keep. Townsfolk don’t fetch him in the middle of the night unless it’s life or death.” He bandaged the ankle tightly. “Now I’ll put away the team and get some salve for the raw spots on your foot.”
He’d tucked her dress around her to provide for her modesty and used a flannel rag to apply the ointment to her ankle. But he'd also seen her turned-in foot, the hideous part of her body she'd never shown to anyone except her sister and her mother.
“I have the salve.” He held up the jar as proof when he entered the room.
“Maybe you could leave it. I’ll apply it later.” She waved toward the table.
“Emma, the foot is a problem. You’ve been traveling for several days and your shoe does not fit.”
“I cut my boot on the side to give some relief.”
“I saw. Your foot’s calluses are as bad as the one’s on my hands. This will do us both good. We’re a matched set.” Joseph swiped the medicine from the jar to another piece of flannel and began massaging and rubbing the tender painful places on the side of her foot.
Emma closed her eyes, both appalled and comforted by Joseph’s touch. “This doesn’t seem right.”
“The farm animals never complain when I treat their injuries. Neither do the other farmers.”
“But I’m not an animal or a farmer. Joseph, you were concerned about our staying under the same roof. The problem remains unchanged. And you’ve seen my bare ankle and misshapen foot!”
“We could concoct a story to satisfy the town about our night together.”
Emma’s eyes flew open. “We must tell the truth.”
“We could, but that wouldn’t be any fun at all, would it?” Joseph laughed, and she saw a twinkle in his eye.
“But your reputation? My reputation?”
Joseph stopped working on her foot and appeared to ponder the situation. “Isn’t the problem ‘sleeping under the same roof’? If we fill the night hours with conversation, no one can say we slept under the same roof—without supervision.”
She liked this playful side of Joseph, a trait she’d glimpsed in some of his letters.
“Could we count Amos as a chaperone?”
“Definitely. Please tell me everything. Your summary at supper left out the details.” He resumed his handling of her foot.
"I scheduled my departure as we arranged, planning on a visit to my sister and her family before I got on the train. I dreaded saying a final goodbye to Heather. We were close. Even after she married, we exchanged letters weekly. I finished the packing for the Texas trip when there was a rap on the door. Do you know who it was? Trouble!"
“Trouble knocked on the door?” Joseph asked.
“She did.”
“She? I knew a woman was trouble. And you saw her in person.”
Emma enjoyed this banter. “Yes, and Trouble had a baby.”
“You could call that double trouble, couldn’t you?”
“I guess you could.” Emma continued the sequence of events, about working in the mercantile for Annie and how their friendship grew. She told him of Annie taking her to confirm Trouble’s story, a second encounter with Trouble, finding her sister’s grave, and hearing of her brother-in-law’s death. As she recounted the sorrow of leaving her dear friend, her home, beautiful Missouri, and the inadequacy she felt in taking care of a baby, tears formed and spilled over. Soon she cried in large, ragged sobs.
Joseph’s sturdy arms surrounded her, and she allowed her cheek to rest on his chest. She cried until the tears were gone and the sobs were hiccupping gasps for air.
“Emma, you’re safe.”
Emma pulled away from him. “I don’t cry, Joseph. I’m not a weak woman.”
“Never said you were.” Joseph walked to the door. “I’m making some coffee. Ready for breakfast? Four o’clock is a bit early, but I’m hungry.”
"Breakfast sounds good. There are biscuits left from last night." She swung her legs off the bed.
“You stay put. Cooked for myself for eight years, I think I can manage.”
Emma dozed off, but her eyes fluttered open when Joseph set a plate of eggs, ham, and biscuits on the little table. How do you take your coffee?”
“Black is fine.” Emma wiggled her way into an upright position.
“Do you like it black, or are you trying not to be a problem?”
“I prefer cream in my coffee,” she said.
“Got cows, so we have cream. “
“Thank you for the food. Amos will wake soon.”
"Before he starts his morning, I'd like to say my piece." He took a slow drink of the coffee. "Emma, we planned to marry as soon as you stepped foot off the train, but I want to wait for the marriage ceremony. Starting life with a bride is different than starting life with a woman and a baby."
He’d held her in his arms moments ago. He’d listened to her explanation, nodding his understanding. Now he wanted to reconsider the idea of marriage. Her temper squelched any docile rejoinder.
“I didn’t want to start married life with a baby either. My dream was the same as yours. But this baby came into my life, and he came into yours. I couldn’t refuse him. And the man who wrote me those fervent and confiding letters for a whole year wouldn’t refuse Amos either.”
Joseph's eyes widened at her impassioned words, and he took two steps backward.
Emma struggled to get up again, then fell back into the bed, giggling. “I should have stomped out of the room after that speech, but I’m missing a shoe, and I’m not sure I can walk.”
Joseph inched closer to the door, a perplexed look on his face. "I think I'll start the morning chores. Do you want Amos in here? Need food? Warm milk? I might be outdoors for quite a spell."
“May I have my walking stick, please? I’ll be out of this bed and taking care of the house chores before you return.”
“Emma, you can have a day of rest,” Joseph said.
“Not Su
nday, is it?”
He shook his head.
“Then it’s not a day of rest. We can make the trip to town after your morning chores. I’d like to take up residence somewhere else as soon as possible.”
He left and returned with the walking stick. “Holler if you need anything.”
She’d watched Joseph hold and feed Amos, but would he agree to be the baby’s papa?
And after seeing her sob her eyes out and then her display of temper, would he agree to be her husband?
Maybe Joseph’s doubts weren’t about Amos but about her.
Chapter Six
Joseph took his time with the chores. He needed to work the cotton fields today, but Emma York’s appearance turned his plans upside down. He’d wanted the benefits of marriage, the company, the help, and for the opportunity to start a family. After last night, he thought about marriage from Emma’s side, from his own Mama’s viewpoint.
Pouring feed into troughs for the animals, he recollected his childhood. He wrestled, trapped, fought, and hunted with his brothers. His papa used a strap, demanding strict obedience from his five sons. When his oldest brother left in the middle of the night, Joe went, too. Even as a scared fifteen-year-old, leaving Kentucky for Texas was the best decision Joe ever made.
His brother established his homestead a couple of counties to the east, and Joe worked there until he was old enough to qualify for land on his own. He’d headed further west and never looked back. He loved this place, every inch of it.
But why couldn't he remember his mama? She existed in his memory as a shadowy figure. He pictured her on the porch skinning rabbits, filleting fish, or in the kitchen cooking and cleaning dishes. He saw her outside scrubbing clothes in a wash pot and sitting in the evening making shirts and mending overalls. He couldn't remember his parents talking or laughing.
He slapped his forehead. That’s what I want. I want a home filled with laughter and happiness. I found contentment here, but I fear a woman without a sense of humor might succumb to despair in this harsh place.
He scraped his boots before going inside to wash. Emma’s walking stick leaned against the chair where she bounced a giggling and cooing Amos on her knee.
“He looks like an old man without any teeth. I think he’s smiling.” Joseph admired the happy glow on Emma’s face.
“Annie’s kids didn’t get teeth until they were over six months old. One of her girls bit everything, including the hands trying to feed, swaddle, or bathe her. I hope Amos isn’t a biter.”
Joe nodded to the trunks, still unopened in the parlor. “Emma, I’ve come up with a different plan.”
Emma sighed and set her lips. “What’s the proposal now?”
“To become better acquainted, I believe we should spend a lot of time together. I think we should both stay here.”
“Absolutely not, Joseph Walker.”
“Hear me out. I’d get Eli to come out. He and I could stay in the loft over the barn. You and Amos could have the house. Eli’s the preacher’s son. He works with me in the blacksmith’s shop. The two of us can split the time working in the blacksmith shop or here on the farm.”
“Tongues will still wag. We’ll be alone on the farm during the daylight hours. And I hoped to find some employment, so I could save for my return fare to Missouri.” Emma marched her fingers up the baby’s body then grabbed and wiggled his nose.
Amos gurgled his pleasure and watched her fingers, hoping for a repetition.
Joseph wiped the back of his neck with the towel. “Well, you could be my housekeeper. You returned the money you didn’t use on the journey, so I could pay you. ”
“For how long? How long do you think it will take for you to decide if I’m an acceptable candidate for marriage or just a housekeeper?”
Joseph rocked back on his heels. “You’re an excellent candidate for marriage, but I want us both to make sure we’re right for each other.”
“A mail-order bride makes a decision before she packs a single bag. I’m ready to marry you. You’re the one having doubts. I told you I was tall and deformed. You knew everything about me before I arrived.”
“But I didn’t know about the baby. I don’t know how to be a father.” Joe’s head dropped.
He feared fatherhood more than marriage. If he was to be a papa, he wanted to be a good one.
“So what’s the next part of your plan?” Emma asked.
"We go to town. I introduce you to Pastor Townsend and his wife Matilda. We convince Eli to live here for a while."
“How long is ‘a while’? Is it a week? Is it a month? Is it a year?” Emma put Amos on her hip and stood.
Joseph saw her grimace in pain, but she bit on her lower lip. “I want both of us to be sure. I’ll help you with the baby after I wash.”
“I’ll see to him.” She marched out of the room. He admired her independent streak, her pride. Emma would be a good frontier wife—if she’d just listen to his advice. He started after her, then remembered his hands were still dirty.
***
Neighbors, puzzled and curious, gawked at the trio in the wagon. Why had he insisted on this impetuous trip to town? He should have asked Pastor Sam and Matilda to come to the farm, so he could ask their advice. No. He didn’t need their advice. Emma explained herself. If she had to stand up in front of the whole church and explain, she could. But women didn’t speak in church. Facing the congregation would fall to him. He considered himself a decisive man, but from the moment he laid eyes on this woman sitting beside him, he’d been confused and had acted a little crazy.
As their wagon approached the parsonage, Matilda ran to the gate, and Pastor Sam hurried from his carpentry shop. Eli came from the garden to tie the reins to the post.
Matilda held her arms up for the baby. “Come to me, little one. Joseph, what a welcome surprise. You’ve brought a beautiful woman and a sweet baby.”
Joseph hurried to the other side to help Emma down. He whispered, “Can you walk inside or should I carry you?”
She pressed his arm. “I’ll walk, but could you please move to my other side?”
Joseph supported her weight when she stepped on her left foot, aware of neighbors coming out to water their gardens and view the procession heading into the Townsends’ home.
Matilda held the door until all were inside. “Your arrival caused quite a ruckus.”
“Sam, Matilda, this is Miss Emma York, and the baby is her nephew, Amos. Eli, you’ve already met them. The baby’s parents died of cholera, but he survived. This child is the reason Emma did not arrive on the train on June 12.” Joseph nodded toward Amos, who tried to poke his fingers in Matilda’s mouth.
"I guess you require a minister to say some wedding vows." Sam bowed slightly to Emma. "The whole town cheered when Joseph announced you'd accepted his proposal. Shall we go to the church?"
“No. Joseph’s having second thoughts. He has a different proposal in mind,” Emma said.
Sam faced his friend. “Joseph, is this true?”
“Writing letters is one thing, but getting acquainted in person is different. And she brought a baby with her.” Joseph turned to Emma. “I want to postpone the wedding, for her sake.”
Matilda turned to Emma. “You said Joe had a different proposal. What is it?”
“Joseph should tell you. It’s his idea. Do you want me to take Amos?” Emma asked.
“Not unless you want him. I love babies.” She grabbed the tiny fingers now intent on exploring her nose.
“I want to make sure this is the right life for Emma and the baby. I’d like to get to know Emma better.” He ran his fingers through his wheat-colored hair. “I suggest she stay on the farm and…”
Matilda broke into Joe’s speech. “You can’t be serious, Joseph Walker. That’s scandalous.”
“Let me finish, please. I’d like for Eli to live on the farm, too. The two of us could have the hayloft, and Emma and Amos would stay in the house,” Joseph searched for understanding and appr
oval.
Emma leaned forward. “Joseph offered to pay me a housekeeper’s wage.”
“What? Is this a trial of some sort? Do you send her packing if her biscuits aren’t to your liking?” Matilda put a protective hand on Emma’s shoulder.
“Her biscuits are excellent, no problem there. Doesn’t anyone understand? Sam, didn’t you court Matilda? I want us to truly know each other before saying the sacred vows to join our lives.”
Sam shook his head. "Joseph, my friend, I've been married to Matilda for nearly twenty years, and I haven't figured her out yet! If you're hoping to understand a woman, you're in trouble. In my opinion, before marriage, you answer some basic questions. Do you like the other person? I'm talking like, not love. Can you get along? I knew Matilda would be a good helpmate. Men need a practical, not perfect, spouse."
“Out, all of you!” Matilda shooed the men off with the back of her hand. “I never knew you considered me a practical solution, Sam Townsend. A milk separator is practical. A hand seeder is practical. A working windmill is practical. Maybe you three practical-thinking men should all bunk together in Joe’s place.”
“Matilda, you’re practical, but more. You know how I feel,” Sam protested.
Joseph whispered to Sam. “See, I don’t understand women. Emma got all upset when I suggested my logical plan.”
Sam nodded. “I think my missus just wants some time to visit with another woman.”
“We both heard what you men said. We’ll see you on Sunday at church.” Matilda turned to Emma. “I’ll get us some tea.”
Joseph noted the spot of color on Emma’s cheek. Was she embarrassed, amused, or angry? If he couldn’t tell, he shouldn’t be marrying her. He would hold off on getting hitched. He’d stick to his plan which now involved having both Sam and Eli bunk at his place. Sam was a good man, but Joseph hoped Matilda would welcome her husband back home sooner, rather than later.
“We’ll be at the blacksmith shop.” Joseph thought he heard giggling as the three of them left.
Sam looked over his shoulder. “Matilda knows she’s wrong. She’s just having a bit of fun.”
Mail Order Emma (Widows, Brides, and Secret Babies Book 26) Page 4
