A Bride for Keeps (11 page)

Helga’s fingers fiddled with the button on her shabby blouse. “I sorry, Mrs. Cline,
if I am inconvenient.”

Julia placed a hand on her shoulder. “Actually, it’ll be nice to have someone to talk
to while I sew.” Or try to anyway.

“I know how it is to have no one to talk. ’Tis a lonely prairie.”

“Yes, the sound of the wind here sometimes sounds like the ocean, though. I like that.”
Julia stacked the dishes.

Helga made a sour face, making the lines around her eyes and mouth more prominent.
“I remember the ocean. Made me sick.”

“You mean on a boat?” She’d always wanted to sail.

“Yes. Long hours in a boat cabin. Sick all day. Sick three days after off the boat.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Two years.” Helga crossed over to the stove. “I should help you.”

Julia washed while Helga dried and talked about her trip from Germany. The description
sounded like a nightmare. Maybe losing the opportunity to sail across the sea was
nothing to be depressed over. Helga’s thick accent was hard to get used to, but after
an hour, Julia barely noticed it anymore.

Julia leaned on her broom. “So . . . you came to America to marry Ned?”

Helga glanced up at her, a puzzled look in her eye. “No, I came for work, but I not
find cooking job, and I not want factory. Worked in factory my whole life in Germany.
I come to America for better. Then I came to Kansas . . .” She grabbed a dry pot and
wiped it again.

She hadn’t meant to disturb or pry. Marriage to Ned couldn’t be easy, and it wouldn’t
make good conversation anyway. Julia took the pan from Helga. “Why don’t we sit? Did
you bring any needlework?” Julia grabbed the new pillow she’d finished stuffing with
the feathers she’d bought yesterday morning in town. Everett’s pillows were too thin,
and she couldn’t let him continue to sleep without one.

The makeshift pallet still lay in the corner. Their neighbors would have figured out
the sleeping arrangement as soon as they had stepped in the door. Was Helga and Ned’s
relationship as distant as hers? Was what she asked of Everett out of the ordinary
for brides in similar circumstances? Julia bit her lip. Would the woman look down
on her for where her husband slept?

Helga looked into her eyes. “Hard to live with strange man, yes?”

A cold shiver trickled across her scalp at the question so closely echoing her thoughts.
She dropped her gaze.

Helga tugged the unfinished pillow from her grasp. “I will help you.”

She stared at the feathers floating from the open seam. “I guess I’ll start on the
pillowcase.”

“I feel sorry. I am in the way.”

“No apologies. I have, uh, many things I’d like to ask.”

“Like will marriage to a stranger become easy?”

Julia didn’t turn to look at her but nodded.

Helga shrugged. “I know not. I think I have a difficult man. He is very . . .” She
stared at the wall across from her and said no more.

Julia didn’t want to intrude on the thoughts that pulled Helga’s mouth further into
a frown, so she concentrated on cutting her material straight. Did Ned beat her? Was
he involved with other women? Could Helga get away if she desired? Julia chopped at
the material as if it were Ned.

After a few minutes, Helga turned. The sides of her mouth drooped, resisting the smile
her lips attempted to form. “Yes, Ned is difficult. But Everett is not so difficult . . .
a smart woman would marry him.”

Julia sniffed. “But he’s difficult to talk to.”

“But he talks nice.” Helga bobbed her head. “Talks like he likes you. Much better
than Ned.”

“You’ve heard Everett talk about me?”

Helga’s eyebrows scrunched. “No.”

“Then who does he like?”

“Everybody. He is nice to all people. Even ugly, no good ones. Like me.” Helga’s voice
ended in a whisper.

“You shouldn’t say such things.”

Helga attacked the ticking in her hands with a vengeance for a few minutes before
slowing. “But Everett, he will like you. Ned likes you.”

That last part Julia refused to take as a compliment. The leer he’d trained on her
at the barn raising had made her skin prickle. And worse, today he had assessed her
boldly while his wife and Everett stood beside him. Did Everett see how Ned looked
at her?

She began the pillowcase’s hem before turning the conversation away from their vexing
husbands. “We should get together often. Work would be more pleasant with you around.”
Though that might bring Helga’s husband around more often. She grimaced. But how could
she ask her not to bring Ned along?

A glimmer in Helga’s eye accented the tiny smile on her face. “I would like that,
but I not know if I can.” She sighed.

Julia reached over and squeezed her hand. If she could be an excuse for this lady
to have time away, she’d welcome her over anytime. “Well, whenever you get the chance,
you come. Even if you haven’t asked. Come when you can.”

“Thank you,” Helga whispered.

Her neighbor seemed to be finished talking, so Julia kept her remaining questions
to herself. In the neighborhood where she grew up, a lady down the street had been
harmed often by her husband’s heavy-handedness. When a couple next door tried to have
a talk with the man, the poor woman’s bruises multiplied.

She would have to tread lightly.

But one thing was answered: things could have been a lot worse. She could still be
unmarried and unprotected from men like Ned. Or she could have succumbed to the pressure
back home and married Theodore—smoother than Ned, richer than Ned, but probably no
different inside.

If Helga could endure her lot, Julia had no reason not to as well. She would focus
on the fact that her situation was
much better than some. And that Helga’s opinion of Everett was high. Surely she’d
married a good man, even if he was a bit inhibited.

Merlin raced the wagon to the barn as Everett and Ned rolled into the yard. Preparing
the coyote pelts had been easy. Easy for Ned, anyway. He seemed content to let Everett
do all the work. Everett had tried to lead him through the steps, but Ned said he
learned better by watching.

Everett scowled at Ned’s turned head and halted his team in front of the barn. Somehow
he doubted Ned needed that much watching to get the hang of things. If he asked again
for help, he’d tell him there was no more visual teaching left, reiterate the steps,
and send him on his way.

The few times he’d worked with his closest neighbor, he’d hoped his ill feelings toward
the man were baseless. But he’d never appeared to be anything but incompetent and
shady. And now entirely too interested in Julia.

The smell of cake floated from the house’s open broken door. He should get to fixing
the hinge, but that required time around Julia. His body told him to take advantage
of the time he had with her, but his heart told him to stay away.

But Everett couldn’t help but wonder if his streak of bad luck with brides was over.
Julia had basically called him a fool for thinking she was leaving yesterday morning.
And he had been, but with no other attachment to him than a signature in the church
records, could he be certain she wouldn’t leave him later—like Mrs. Jonesey—especially
when she’d decided to have no true marital attachment to him?

Ned followed him into the cabin. Helga’s nearly cheery face receded into her ever-present
frown. He’d never seen
the woman smile before, but the hint of her half smile was already gone, along with
Julia’s.

Not happy I’m home.
Julia looked toward Ned, who sported the smile the two women had lost.
Or maybe Ned makes her uncomfortable. He’s definitely making me so.

“Smells good in here, ladies. Good eatin’, I’m sure.” Ned planted himself in the same
chair he’d sat in at lunch.

Hopefully Julia figured on him staying.

“It will be a little while, Mr. Parker.” She gave him a pained smile before heading
to the stove. “These sweet cakes Helga whipped up need a bit more time.”

Ned leaned back and surveyed the room. Everett watched his eyes take a second look
at the pallet on the floor. Ned’s mouth twitched, and then he craned his neck around
in Julia’s direction. “So, how you enjoying Kansas?”

“All right, I guess. The wind takes getting used to.”

“Sure looks like you’re agreeing with the weather to me. Right pretty in that fancy
getup.”

She glanced down at her clothing and then at Ned.

Everett’s blood boiled at the man’s compliment. Of course, one would have to be blind
not to notice how well she filled out her dress, but the oily smoothness behind Ned’s
voice rankled.

Julia returned to her cooking and barely looked at Ned. “Thank you, Mr. Parker.”

“No need to call me Mr. Parker. Being neighbors, we can go by our Christian names.
I’ll call you Julia, and you can call me Ned.”

“All right.” She put down her spatula with more force than necessary.

Ned’s gaze moved from Julia’s head down to her toes. A smirk formed on his lips.

Everett’s fists balled under the table as he glared at Ned’s profile. In front of
him, in his own home, this man was leering at his wife. Unlike Helga, Julia had married
him. No man would steal her. Everett stood and knocked over his chair.

Helga squeaked.

Helga.
How could he dress down her husband in front of her?

“Excuse me, I have to check on the livestock in the few minutes we have to spare.”
Everett turned to his neighbor, whose cocky grin had disappeared. “Mind helping me
with the choring?”

The man lazily unfolded himself from the chair. “’Spect that’s fair.”

Everett stalked off to the barn, taking a glance over his shoulder to make sure Ned
was following. First inside the barn, Everett slammed his fist into a stall door,
wishing the wood swinging away from him was Ned’s face. Maybe he ought to punch the
man’s pointy nose deep into his pockmarked skin.

He took a calming breath. Though he was sure Ned wouldn’t do anything unseemly with
his own wife beside him, the man needed supervision and a talking to. And if his neighbor
didn’t back down, he’d use him as an excuse to exercise his fists.

When Ned stepped inside, Everett threw a milk bucket at him. The man caught it and
eyed him.

Everett tipped his head in the direction of his house. “I’m thinking you need to be
keeping that look you gave my wife for your woman alone.”

Ned’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Everett tested the weight of the rake in his hand and gritted
his teeth. “You know what I’m talking about. Don’t look at Julia that way again.”

Shrugging, Ned leaned against a stall post. “Not much you can do about a man admiring
a lady. Simply nature. And you happen to have finally snagged one of the prettiest
gals in Kansas. Can’t blame a man for noticing.”

He gripped the rake harder. “Keep your noticing to yourself from now on.”

“Sure.” Ned drawled. He raised his bucket. “I’m supposin’ you’re wanting me to do
the woman’s chore?”

Actually, he’d rather have him leave, but perhaps now that he knew he was being watched,
the man would shape up. A neighbor was too valuable of a commodity during harvest
and other times of emergency. “You want milk with your sweet cakes, right?”

Ned rolled his eyes. “If Helga made them, we’ll each need a gallon to wash them down.”
He moved to the cow and settled himself into her side.

Sorrow for Helga quenched his anger. Though she’d jilted Everett, she didn’t deserve
a man like Ned. No woman did. Ned was lucky to have a hard-working woman. But he was
also blessed that no gorgeous lady had married him, moved into his house, and sent
his mind places she didn’t want it to go—at least not yet. Or maybe never.

Taking a deep breath, Everett mucked the nearest stall. Julia was his wife, and those
thoughts were fitting. But if she didn’t love him . . .

Despite the madness she would put him through, she didn’t deserve to be ogled by that
miserable excuse for a man. Maybe the best thing would be to send the Parkers home
with sweet cakes in hand.

Ned banged open the door and thumped a bucket of milk onto the table. “Pack up your
cakes. We’re going.”

Helga plunked her tin cup back onto the table and was gathering her sweet cakes before
Julia could even walk over to the stove.

“I am sorry, Julia. I must go.”

Julia took one look at Ned, who raked his eyes over her like she were something to
be consumed and thrown away. Though she felt sorry for Helga being hustled away, she
would not insist they stay. “Good-bye, Helga. Please come again when you can.” She
forced herself to nod at Ned.

“Thanks to you for having me. I enjoy very much.” The lady’s shoulders drooped as
she scuttled out behind her husband, who hoisted himself up onto the driver’s seat.

After their wagon disappeared over the ridge, Everett stepped out of the barn and
took a few steps toward the house. “Did you have a good talk with Helga?”

“Yes.” Why hadn’t he seen their guests off? She moved to the railing. “I . . . I’m
a bit worried about her. Do you know them well?”

He shook his head. “No, but I’m glad you put a smile on her face this afternoon. I
don’t think she smiles often. Maybe you ought to invite her over. Just her . . . you
know, for female companionship. She’d probably enjoy your company. Give you someone
to talk to.” He dropped his gaze to the dirt. “Well, I’ve got animals to attend.”

“Would you like a cake? Helga left us a couple.”

“Thanks, but I’ll have to eat them later.” Everett pivoted and walked right back to
the barn.

Did he dislike talking to her so much he had to leave the second he found himself
alone with her? Julia wanted a loveless marriage, not a friendless one.

Loveless. Was that really what she wanted? With slow steps, she returned to the house
and readied for bed, no longer interested in dessert. She sat on the bed and stared
at the wall. To feel love would be nice, but with a man, that would mean . . .

Pulling off her cameo, she watched the glow of sunset from the open door. A full white
moon nestled in a peach-and-magenta-swirled sky. The bottoms of the clouds on the
horizon glowed from below as if they were afire. This land wasn’t as beautiful as
the land surrounding Massachusetts, but the breadth of the horizon and the openness
held its own charm.

A bath sounded good. Maybe she could get the feel of Ned’s perusal off her. But she
couldn’t have Everett coming in while she bathed.

Julia rearranged the chairs and grabbed the quilt off the pallet, where she’d thrown
it that afternoon. The tick on the floor wouldn’t be any more comfortable than the
Stantons’ barn loft, but she’d have a new pillow stuffed to the perfection of plumpness.
She draped the blanket across the chairs’ backs for a makeshift screen and pulled
the big stock pot
over. Cool water would be welcome in this cloying heat, but she’d have to sit on the
floor to stay out of sight. She’d need to figure out a better setup for the future.

Julia walked to the barn. Everett’s swift strokes with the horse’s comb accentuated
the muscles moving under his shirt as he brushed.

“Everett?”

He popped up and whirled to face her.

She cleared her throat. “I’m going to wash. Do you want me to save the water for you?”

“A bath would be a good idea. I smell like a coyote.”

He did indeed. Smelled awful all the way across the barn.

He returned to his brushing. “But it would be easier to bathe in the creek. I don’t
have a tub.” He stopped his frantic movements and turned. “Unless you bought one in
town.”

She hadn’t thought to. “No.” They couldn’t bathe in a creek during the winter though.
“Could we put that on the list?”

He hung up the animals’ brush. “I’ll have Hampden order one.” He stopped in front
of her, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Actually, why don’t you order it? Get whatever
you want.”

She took a step back. The dead meat smell mixed with sweat made her nauseous. Why
hadn’t Ned smelled so bad? “Anything I want?”

He took a step back as well. “Within reason. But tonight, we can use the creek. Do
you know where it is?”

“No.” The moon would provide enough light to bathe by, but she didn’t know the land
well enough to follow directions. He’d have to take her. She swallowed. “Could you
show me?”

“Sure.” He turned her around and placed a hand at the small of her back. His unexpected
touch created a buzz between her shoulder blades. “We’ll go together.”

She dug her pointy-toed boots into the dirt floor. “Together?” Surely he wouldn’t
force her to do something so unseemly, since he’d promised . . .

His hand slipped off her waist. “Not . . .” He cleared his throat. “Not bathe together.
I’ll take you there and wait my turn since it’s a long walk, and there are animals
to watch for.”

“Oh.” Her voice squeaked. “Give me a minute.” She hurried to the cabin, deciding on
what to take.

Animals? What kind of animals? And where would he wait his turn?

Everett opened the door Julia had slammed behind her.

She spun around, her nightgown crumpled against her chest.

Everett met her gaze for a second. “I need to get my things too.” He pulled out his
trunk and grabbed his long undershirt, towel, and a bar of soap.

Her eyes widened when she turned toward him. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea. I’ve never
bathed in a creek before.”

“No, it’s a fine idea.” They had to live together. Might as well figure out how to
go about this now. “At night, no chores can be done, so it’s a good time. Are you
ready?”

Her eyes closed, and he could tell she was debating. Did she think no honorable men
existed in this world? “I won’t watch, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Redness crept onto her face. “All right.”

He headed out the door, and Merlin bounded up. “C’mon, boy. Let’s go take a swim in
the creek.” He needed something to occupy his mind while Julia bathed, and the dog
would be just the thing. Everett beckoned her and walked toward a stand of brush.
“This way.”

When they stepped off into a path overhung by foliage, the shadows deepened. Her voice,
barely discernible, trembled behind him. “Maybe we should’ve brought a lantern.”

Although she’d jumped at his touch earlier, he tried again. Finding her arm, he lightly
encircled it. “Once we get through this brush, the moonlight will be plenty.”

Julia tripped a couple of times on the tree roots his feet skimmed over. After one
close call, they slowed.

“I need to get a pair of sturdier boots. Something to work in. Maybe a man’s boot.”

Her dainty feet enclosed now by myriad buttons were hard to imagine swallowed in a
man’s shoe. “Put it on the list.”

For a while the chirping of crickets, Merlin’s panting, and Julia’s tiny breaths were
all he heard until the sound of hundreds of tiny frogs filled the air. He let go of
her arm when they stepped onto the small dirt bank. “This is it.” In the daylight,
she probably wouldn’t be overjoyed to see the muddy water she was about to bathe in.

A broken twig poked out from her hair, so he flicked it away. A wisp of her hair tickled
his wrist. He had to stop touching her.

“How are we going to go about this?” She sounded like she was shivering.

“I figured you could go first, and after my bath, I’d escort you home.” Sounded odd
to be calling his dinky place her home. “I’ll head up the bank and find a tree to
sit against. Facing the other way, of course. Just make sure you swish around first.
Scare off any snakes.” He turned, but her hand grabbed his bicep, fingernails digging
into his flesh.

“Snakes?” She tugged at him. “I won’t bathe with snakes.”

He smiled. Definitely a city girl. “They won’t want to bathe with you either. They’ll
swim off if you’re there.”

“No. You’re going first. You shoo them away.”

“Fair enough.” He helped her climb the embankment and sat her against a tree. “Merlin,
you stay here with Julia.” He slipped down the embankment and quickly bathed—the cool
water exactly what he needed. Once he dressed, he’d have to work hard to keep his
mind from envisioning what Julia would be doing in a few minutes.

“It’s your turn.” Everett’s wet hair glinted in the moonlight. The round silver orb
reflected in the big black circles of his eyes. She turned and caught a glimpse of
his bare legs from the knee down, and her face flamed. He held out his hand. “Let
me help you down.”

Keeping her gaze off him, she stepped onto the embankment, her heel sinking into mud.
How was she going to keep herself clean after she bathed? “I’ll wait until you say
you’re at that tree.” Slow-moving ripples glistened on the creek’s surface. “You sure
there aren’t any snakes?”

“Shouldn’t be.”

Hardly comforting. She took a deep breath. Evidently, she’d be bathing here until
a new tub could be ordered. She’d better get used to it. When Everett called that
he had turned away, she dropped her things and undressed, trusting he’d respect her
enough not to watch. The slimy mud between her toes as she entered the water made
her cringe. Could one really get clean in a mud-bottomed creek?

She walked in far enough to stoop and cover herself in water to her shoulders and
quickly scrubbed with the bar of soap. She wasn’t going to share the water with the
snakes any longer than necessary. What if she got bit? She had no
idea what to do. How much she needed to learn to survive here. It was overwhelming.

As soon as she left the water, Julia realized she had forgotten a towel. The clothing
she’d shed near the creek was soaked through. She growled in frustration. Why hadn’t
she paid better attention to her things? She had nothing to dry herself with, and
she couldn’t ask for Everett’s towel. She couldn’t walk beside him in a thin wet nightgown
or don her muddy clothes again either. She’d have to stand and let the night air dry
her off. “I’m going to be a little while. Why don’t you go home?” she shouted to him
from the bank.

“Not a problem. I can wait.”

“No. Don’t wait. I’ll just head home when I’m done.”

Animals. Were the snakes all he meant when he mentioned animals?

A long silence followed. Surely he would have said good-bye before he started off.

“I won’t do that.”

“Leave Merlin with me. He knows the way.”

“Sorry, but if you got lost, I wouldn’t be able to find you before morning, and I’m
not sure Merlin would stay with you. You’re still a stranger.”

His last sentence couldn’t be truer. Well, he’d have to wait. She wrung water from
her hair.

“Julia, what’s wrong?”

He evidently wasn’t going to wait in silence. She sighed. “Nothing. I just forgot
my towel, so I’m going to have to wait until I air dry.”

“That will take a while in this humid air.”

“Right.”

“Let me bring you my towel.”

She spun in his direction and held her nightgown in front
of her. “No! No need. I’ll be dry any second now.” Twigs cracking from his direction
caused her to don her nightgown with haste. “Don’t come near me. I’m coming.” After
gathering her muddy clothes in a tight bundle, she started toward the tree where she’d
sat earlier. “Just you go first. I’ll walk farther behind.”

“As you wish.” His outline showed him waiting, with his hands on his hips.

Merlin whined.

“You can lead now. I see you.” How crazy must she sound to him? But even she could
hear the thick panic in her breathy voice. He slowly turned. It didn’t matter what
he thought. She couldn’t let him see her in nothing but a simple summer nightdress,
clinging to her skin. She’d slept in her clothes the last two nights without meaning
to, but what should she wear to bed, two feet away from him? It would soon be too
hot to hide under a pile of blankets.

She sniffled. Her thoughts were absurd. She was married, but she felt vulnerable—exposed
and weak—like that horrible night she’d learned Theodore was only marrying her for
her father’s business. That she was simply a toy for him to play with.

“Are you all right back there?”