Читать книгу Frontier Want Ad Bride - Lyn Cote, Lyn Cote - Страница 12

Chapter Three

On the way to church on Sunday morning, Asa thought over the few days he’d been married. When he had rejoined her yesterday, Judith had not repeated her request that he write a note to her father. In the end he’d decided he must write a line in that letter or cause more questions. What were the odds that the woman he married would be someone he recognized? The memory of when they had seen each other in person over a decade ago came flooding back to him. He’d been elected captain of the Rock River Illinois Militia, and all the volunteers had gathered at the train station in Rockford to set off for war. Remembering how callow and naive he and the other militia volunteers had been expanded through him like hot grapeshot. They’d thought the war would end in weeks, not years.

As Asa drove down Main Street past all the shops closed for the Sabbath, his thoughts filled with the past.

That day in 1861, all the militia families had come to see their men off. Judith and Emma had been there in the crowd. Of course he hadn’t been introduced to Judith individually but to all the families of the Illinois militia. Later, however, her brother Gil had often showed him the tintype of his pretty twin sisters, a connection to home.

But obviously Judith didn’t remember seeing him that day, or the day when what was left of the militia had returned in ’65. Relief whistled through him once more.

Bringing him back to the present, the schoolhouse door came into view. Soon he halted his team and went around to Judith. She braced herself on his arms as he helped her down.

The soft expression on her face worked on him. He resisted the urge to pull her close. Instead he handed her the cloth-covered cake she’d baked for the after-church social. “I’ll take the horses to their area and then join you inside,” he said.

“Thank you, Asa.” Judith paused. “Where do you usually sit?”

Asa grinned, understanding that even in church, people claimed their places. “Near the back on the right.”

She smiled in return and walked over the packed snow to the school entrance. The door opened and a man’s voice called, “Welcome. Come in from the cold.”

Asa steered his team to the long hitching shelter. He had already blanketed his team before leaving home and had slipped on their blinders to block their interacting with the other teams of horses also tied under the roof.

He’d helped build this shelter himself last fall and had suggested the windbreaks on three sides. His team would be fine under cover and out of direct wind. He turned and walked resolutely toward the schoolhouse. He noted his wife had dressed with care for the Sunday service. Of course everyone would be watching them.

Getting married had disturbed his ordinary life, during which he’d kept everyone at arm’s length. It was all so confusing. And he must keep this new inner confusion over his unexpected attraction to his bride—to her thick, dark hair, pert nose and warm brown eyes—concealed behind an untroubled face.

* * *

Tense, Judith stepped inside the school, carrying her cake plate. Asa had told her that in the winter, everyone who wanted to brought a covered dish and stayed after services to eat and talk. So she’d baked a brown butter cake yesterday. Today would be the first time since their wedding that she and Asa had appeared together before the whole community. Though Emma liked attention, Judith did not. But now it would be unavoidable. She crafted a smile and put it in place. No one must see any division between Asa and her. Or it would invite speculation.

The worship service went smoothly, and then it was time for the potluck dinner. Within a very few moments, the men had set up folding tables and positioned the school benches around them. And after the deacon, Gordy Osbourne, said grace, the potluck began. Everyone filled their plates from a variety of fragrant bowls and platters.

Judith didn’t want to slight anybody, so she took a spoonful or piece of everything. With her plate full, she found herself and Asa sitting with the couple who had welcomed her at the door and another young couple, the blacksmith and his wife, Levi and Posey Comstock. Judith had hoped to sit near Emma, but her sister had stayed near the Ashfords.

Judith waved to her and Emma waved back, her expression one of suppressed excitement. What had happened to cause that? Had she gotten word that her intended husband, Mason Chandler, was returning?

Judith ate and replied to those who spoke to her, but primarily she listened in order to learn more about her new neighbors. Then, near the end of the meal, Mr. Ashford rose. “May I have your attention, please?”

Everyone fell silent and turned to look at the storekeeper.

“Many of you know but others may not be aware that we lost our teacher yesterday.”

A few startled gasps, and then the room swelled with upset murmuring.

Mr. Ashford held up his hand. “The school board has already met and has found a replacement so that school will go on.”

Judith then glimpsed her sister’s face. And she thought, Oh, no.

“Miss Emma Jones has consented to finish out the school year as interim teacher.”

Judith felt her jaw drop and quickly shut her mouth so no one would detect her hesitation over this development. Would Emma be able to curb her naturally lively personality enough to please the town?

“Miss Jones,” Ashford continued, “completed eleventh grade with honors and is of impeccable reputation. And we have stressed to her the importance of preparing our students to compete in the upcoming Third Annual Pepin Regional Spelling Bee in April.”

The murmurs switched from surprised dismay to approval, many heads were nodding and everyone was smiling at her sister. Judith forced herself to look pleased and approving. But the phrase from years ago played in her mind: “not having the serious temperament necessary in an educator of children.”

Had Emma forgotten? That didn’t seem likely. Judith tried to remember how Emma had reacted to that rejection. But it had happened in the midst of the war, and that conflagration had overshadowed everything else.

Should she say something to Emma? No. The matter had gone too far. And since the school year would no doubt end in May, perhaps all would be well. And after all, Emma was nearly a decade older than she’d been during her first attempt at becoming a teacher. She might not upset the school board with her liveliness.

Then Judith recalled Emma’s advice to her as they chugged into sight of Pepin a week ago: “embrace the adventure.” Well, Judith only hoped Emma’s latest adventure would turn out for the best. She didn’t want her sister’s feelings to be hurt.

Asa leaned close to her ear. “Something wrong?”

She turned to him and whispered, “No. I just wasn’t expecting this.” She would tell him what she really felt when they were alone.

He nodded and rested his hand over hers.

For that moment she forgot how to breathe. She tried to dismiss this and behave as though his touch had not affected her so. She looked to the front of this room where they had pledged themselves to each other. She recalled his gentle, chaste kiss and Asa’s whisper, “I’ll do right by you, Judith.” She trusted Asa, but the worry lingered. What wasn’t he trusting her with?

* * *

Late on the next day, Asa finished washing up at the dry sink and then took his seat at the table. Judith had prepared another deliciously fragrant meal for him. She was using up the last of the venison from the smokehouse in a stew. She set the pot in the center of the table. And then sat down across from him. The pleasure of the moment of having a pretty, cheerful woman here and the scent of well-prepared food flooded him. Caution leaped up inside him like a wall, a fortress around his feelings. He couldn’t afford this softening. He couldn’t let down his guard or all the regret might unman him. He didn’t want anyone to know about his war record. If he did, the talk would begin. And no one would let him live in peace.

She bowed her head, waiting for him to say grace. Then, with effort, he voiced his usual grace without betraying his anxiety and looked up to watch her dish up his plate first.

Judith paused and pursed her lips. “Emma is very bright and very good. But sometimes her high spirits can carry her away.”

He wondered what she was leading up to.

She sighed and then looked across at him. “I hope her high spirits don’t upset the school board.”

Hearing the concern in her voice and not knowing what he could do, he shrugged. Then a thought came. “What everyone is really most concerned about is that she prepare the students for the big spelling bee in April. If she does that right, I don’t think they’ll care about her high spirits.”

Judith gazed at him. Then, reaching across the table, she touched his hand. “Thank you. I know I’m only four minutes older than her, but in temperament, I am the older sister. And I worry about her sometimes.”

She glanced downward. “Asa, I’d like to invite the Ashfords and Emma for dinner someday. But there are a few things that I’d need to buy for the house before we have company.” Still not meeting his gaze, she raised a hand. “Nothing extravagant. I need fabric to make window curtains and dishcloths. I’d like to buy a set of dishes, not china, just sturdy everyday dishes.” She glanced up then, looking uncertain.

He looked down at the dented tin plates and mugs he’d always used. Of course a woman would want better than this. “Sorry,” he said, his voice coming back. “I should have discussed our finances with you. You buy whatever you need.”

He cleared his throat. “Our fields will provide most of our food. I hunt in the fall. And in the winter, I work with leather. The blacksmith keeps those belts and harnesses and sells them for me.” He rose and went to the hearth. “Come here.”

She obeyed him.

He showed her the loose stone that hid a cavity in the side of the fireplace and the small cloth sack of gold and silver coins stashed there. “We have plenty, Judith. Just tell Mr. Ashford to put everything on our tab. I pay him once a month.”

“Thank you, Asa. I’m not an extravagant woman, but I do want to—” she waved a hand toward the room “—make everything more homey.”

He returned to his place at the table, and she followed him.

“I want you to...do that, too,” he said. But you’ve done so much more. The chain around his heart tightened. If only he had more than a house and sustenance to offer her. Judith deserved the best. But he would give her the best he could of the material world. The pity was that he could not give her more of his true self, his empty heart.

* * *

The thaw had started. All around, Judith heard the sound of water trickling and dripping from the roof and the rivulets that ran down the trail toward town. She hummed as she finished setting the table for six. Her first dinner party would be today. The Ashfords and Emma were coming for supper. The cabin door and both windows stood open to let in the breath of spring. This would be her debut as the mistress of her own home, inviting others to a meal.

She’d planned the supper carefully. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, tender dandelion greens salad, her mother’s cloverleaf rolls and cherry pie for dessert. She glanced toward the window, where the two dishcloth-covered pies were cooling on the sill.

Then, glancing at the clock, she took the last of the chicken out of the skillet, spitting hot and golden. She set it on the pan in the warming oven. Then she went out to the springhouse to get the cream to whip up for the pie.

She heard the voices of people walking up the trail. She quickly retrieved the cream from this morning’s milking and hurried toward the house.

“Judith!” Her sister’s happy voice carried to her.

“Emma!” Judith replied and then hurried inside to change into her clean apron for the final preparations.

As she walked in, Asa stepped out of the bedroom, where he dressed. He looked very handsome in a blue-and-white-striped shirt she’d pressed this morning. He was freshly shaved and his hair was neat. She stood rooted to the spot. She had married a handsome man. Once again the sensation of recognition trickled through her and then vanished.

Emma reached the door first. “Sister!”

Setting down the pot of cream, Judith swung around and welcomed her sister with a quick hug for her first visit there. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me, too,” Emma replied, sniffing the air. “Your fried chicken?”

Judith nodded, looking past her sister and welcoming the Ashfords inside. A happy hubbub of welcomes and greetings filled the next few minutes. Then everyone had entered and their guests had sat down on the benches by the table—all except Mrs. Ashford, who was walking around as if on an inspection tour.

She paused at Judith’s grandmother’s sampler. “This is very fine handwork. And is it on silk?”

“Yes,” Emma spoke up and explained the history of the piece.

Judith listened as she mashed the potatoes, mixing in butter, salt and pepper with warm milk.

Mrs. Ashford pronounced her verdict. “That’s an heirloom.” Then she beamed at Judith. “You have a very cozy home here.”

Pleased, Judith finished the potatoes and set them on a trivet near the fire. “I just need to whip up the cream for our dessert and then we can eat.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Amanda Ashford asked.

“No, I think everything is in hand.” Judith walked to the window, holding the bowl of cream in the crook of one arm and whipping the cream with a wire whisk. Then she gasped. One of her pies was missing.

“What is it, Judith?” Emma asked.

Judith turned. “I baked two pies, but one is gone.”

Everyone rose from the table to look at the windowsill, where one pie still sat under a dishcloth. The two men hurried outside to see if the pie had somehow fallen off the sill.

Asa looked at Judith through the open window. “No sign of it.”

Her husband appeared as puzzled as she felt.

“What could have happened to it?” Amanda asked.

“An animal?” Mrs. Ashford suggested.

“That would have left a mess here.” Outside, Mr. Ashford pointed toward the ground.

“Yes,” Emma agreed, “and an animal would not have any use for the pan.”

“A tramp,” Mrs. Ashford pronounced, frowning. “Must have snuck up, snatched it and run. We get them this close to the river. Drifters following it north or south.”

“I wish he’d just asked,” Judith said. “I’d never let anyone go away hungry.”

“Well, one pie’s gone, but we still have one,” Asa said. “When do we eat, ma’am?”

Judith shook her head at him but smiled at his teasing tone.

“Yes, let’s not spoil our meal,” Emma said.

The men came back into the cabin and settled around the table. Judith soon set out the dishes family-style. The dinner guests ate with gusto and offered many compliments. Judith ate and replied, but she still wondered. Who had taken the pie?

* * *

Two mornings later, Judith awakened with a plan. Yesterday, which was laundry day and the day after the pie had gone missing, someone had taken one of Asa’s shirts drying on her clothesline. Someone was not only hungry but also needed clothing. She thought of the verses in Matthew 25.

“Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: For I was hungered, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: Naked, and ye clothed me.”

But how to do that? At home in Illinois, usually tramps had stopped at the door to ask. She didn’t think this person was going to do that. Then the plan had come to her. She needed to bait the hook and see who nabbed it. After breakfast, Asa had reminded her that he was helping out a neighbor with clearing more land and would be gone till lunch.

Perfect. She didn’t want Asa to know what she was doing. Her plan sounded...childish, but it might work. She bid Asa goodbye and then baked two cinnamon cakes, set one on the windowsill where the pie had been and then slipped inside the springhouse, which gave her an excellent view of the window. The scent of cinnamon from the cake floated on the wind.

At first, anticipation and a bit of apprehension kept Judith alert, but an hour passed with only squirrels on tree branches eyeing the prize on the sill. She began daydreaming, thinking of fabric she’d seen at the Ashfords’ store.

Then she heard it—soft padding of feet and the brushing back of branches. She peered out the cracked-open springhouse door and saw them. She nearly gasped aloud.

She glimpsed two children, a boy of around nine and a younger girl, who was wearing Asa’s shirt as a dress. The boy left the girl in the cover of the evergreens and approached the house with stealth.

Judith sat very still, watching the boy reach up and take the cake and stuff it into a small cloth bag. Then he hurried back to the girl.

Judith nearly leaped from her seat, but she counted to ten, then slipped outside, going after the children. She needed to find out where they were coming from. Did they have family? Fortunately, as a child, she and Emma had played Cowboys and Indians with their older brother, so she knew how to creep behind someone. The trees and wild shrubs concealed her. She followed the two more by sound than by sight.

Finally the two stopped muting their voices and halted.

Judith peered through the evergreen boughs and observed them devouring her cake. Behind them, the opening to what must be a cave explained where they lived.

Two children living alone in a cave? Why? Where were their parents? Family?

She sat very still, watching them as they sat on the bare ground, eating and then drinking from a natural spring that ran from the rock near the cave opening. They needed her assistance but they were hiding, not coming to her door to ask. Why not?

Well, right now she must attempt to help them, regardless. She rose and stepped out of the cover of the forest. “Good day, children.”

The two of them leaped up. The boy shoved the girl behind his back and picked up a large rock. “Don’t you come any closer!”

She opened her hands and showed that she held no weapon. “I’m Mrs. Brant. What are your names?”

“I’m Lily,” the girl said.

“Nice to meet you, Lily.” Judith smiled but stayed where she was, letting them get used to her.

“This is Colton—” Lily began.

“Hush,” Colton said. “Lady, you go on home. Lily and I are doin’ fine.”

She surveyed their matted hair, grimy hands and faces, clothes caked with mud, and thin arms and legs. Though unhappy at their plight, she still smiled and kept her voice gentle. “I’ve come to invite you to eat lunch with my husband and me.”

“Lunch!” Lily jumped with obvious excitement. She hurried toward Judith.

Colton tried to stop her, but the girl skirted him, went to Judith and took the hand she offered. “Do you cook good?”

Judith was caught between amusement and sadness. Lily must have been only around six, so she still had a child’s trust, but Colton had lost his. Who had driven these children into the forest to fend for themselves like Hansel and Gretel?

“Colton, I know you don’t know me well. But I am offering you a free meal. You can leave afterward. And I promise not to tell anybody but my husband about this place.” She didn’t want Colton to leave for fear of her.

Colton studied her for a long time.

She waited.

Finally the boy put down the rock and walked toward her. “Okay. We’ll come, but we ain’t stayin’.”

“I only invited you for lunch,” she replied. “I mean you no harm.”

He snorted.

Her heart ached for a boy trying to care for himself and a little sister. She longed to rattle off questions, but pressed her lips together. The two were like wild deer. She didn’t want to spook them. Then Asa came to mind.

What would he say when he came home for lunch and, without warning, found two tattered urchins at his table? Now she realized that she should have discussed this with her husband. Would he object? With a deep sigh, she began praying for wisdom, for guidance, not only for her but also for Asa.

Would he be displeased with her for acting on her own, for not minding her own business? The fact that her husband was still somewhat a stranger to her—and that he held her at arm’s length—kept her feeling insecure. Surely he wouldn’t send the children away, would he?