Deborah Camp (6 page)

“Mighty tasty,” Blade said after sampling the food. “I didn’t figure you for much of a cook.”

“My menu selections are limited, but that can be remedied. I plan to—experiment with recipes.” She glanced at Penny, hoping her sister would be able to keep their secret. Penny had agreed to the pretense, but Elise knew her for a poor liar.

“Guess you thought I’d want to keep you if you proved yourself a good cook.”

Elise studied him. The twinkles were still there in his eyes, but she got the impression he was serious. “I hadn’t thought about that, since I see no reason why I should have to prove anything to you. We’re married. I have every right to remain here.”

His attention was diverted to Penny for an instant. Penny smacked her lips, obviously enjoying the meal, and he smiled at her. But his smile dimmed when he looked back at Elise.

“I can’t understand why you won’t go into town and make your own way.”

Elise stiffened her spine, hurt by his words. “Because we are married.”

He reached for another biscuit, split it open and poured gravy over it. “You mock marriage.”

“I do not!”

“You forget that I was married, truly married. What we did today was get a piece of paper for a little man who knew a couple of liars when he saw
them. You’re being fool-headed if you think you’ll be happy here.”

“As long as Penny stays here, I’ll stay here.
That
will make me happy.”

He shook his head. “You are stubborn. Stubborn as a jackass.”

“So are you,” she shot back.

Penny giggled again, looking from one to the other. “You two look funny, all squinty-eyed.”

“Hush, Penny, and eat,” Elise said.

Blade smiled at Penny again and shrugged his suspenders off his shoulders. He let them hang at his sides. Rocking his head from side to side as if to relieve bunched muscles, he unfastened three shirt buttons. He scratched at the center of his tanned chest, between bulging muscles where a few curling hairs nestled.

Elise couldn’t help but stare, wondering how comfortable he planned on getting. She was relieved when he settled back to his meal.

“If you didn’t want to be separated from your sister, why did you let her be adopted?” Blade asked.

“Because I had no choice.” Her mouth was as dry as cotton. Nerves, she thought, feeling them thrum inside her like plucked violin strings. The man set her nerves to tingling. She took a long drink of water before continuing. “I couldn’t provide for my siblings and we had no relatives who would take us in. Adam and Penny were placed in my grandparents’ care, and they turned them over to the Children’s Rescue Society without even telling me. When I found out about it, the papers had been signed and I was told that the only way I could stop the proceedings was to prove I could make a living for them.” She pushed aside her
plate, her appetite gone. “I could do nothing in the short time they allowed me.”

“What happened to your mother and father?”

“They were killed in a carriage accident. It was raining and the road was muddy, washed out in places. They crashed into a shallow ravine. The carriage struck a tree and my mother and father were … they died before anyone could find them.” Her voice had grown husky and she cleared her throat. It was difficult to talk about the accident and deal with the awful scenes that flashed through her mind. Had they suffered? How long had they lived before death took them? She prayed that their lives had ended instantly, but she would never be sure.

“Are
your
parents still alive?” she asked, wanting to think about something else besides the carriage that had been reduced to splintered wood.

“No. They have been dead many years.”

Elise’s gaze slipped to his arms again, and the strange web of lines. Were other parts of his body decorated in this fashion? She blinked, refocusing her eyes, and found that he was watching her, smiling at her.

“What is it?” she said defensively.

“I have a few markings on my chest and back too. Want to see?” He started to undo more buttons.

“No!” She felt her face flame.

“I do,” Penny said, rising to sit on her knees in the chair and get a better look at him.

“No, you don’t!” Elise forced her voice lower. “Penny, go get ready for bed.”

“What bed?”

“Where you were napping. Your nightie is folded on the bunk. Now go on. I’ll join you as soon as I finish cleaning these dishes.” She stacked
Penny’s plate on top of her own, keenly aware of Blade rising from his chair and moving toward her. She jumped slightly when his brown hands captured her shoulders. A tingle raced up her arms and around her heart.

“See to the child. I’ll wash the dishes.”

“I’m afraid we haven’t settled anything. We should talk and come to an understanding.”

He guided her to one side so that he could collect the dishes off the table. “I understand that your notion of marriage is different from mine.”

Elise gave Penny a push toward the bedroom and leaned down to be closer to her ear. “Go on now,” she whispered, then straightened and turned back to Blade once she was sure Penny had obeyed her. He was placing the dishes in a large, shallow pan.

“You don’t have to do the dishes. They’re my responsibility.” Elise took a step closer to him. “You could use a woman around here, you know. I’m sure you miss your wife.”

“Yes, but what has that got to do with you?” His golden brown eyes glimmered. “Are you offering yourself? You’ll share my blanket tonight?”

Elise pulled back in alarm. Was he serious? Blast his devilish eyes! “No! I … we hardly know each other. Can’t you see how—how wrong that would be?”

“We’re married, as you keep reminding me.”

“Yes, but we can’t just … you wouldn’t want to bed a complete stranger!”

His grin lifted only one side of his mouth. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Well, it would be for me,” she stated, frowning mightily at him.

“Would it be your first time with a stranger or your first time with anyone?”

His question brought a tide of color to her cheeks. She could feel it, hot and telling. “Both.”

He nodded. “I thought so.” He turned his back on her and poured water from a bucket over the dishes. “I don’t care to break in any more high-spirited young fillies. Too much trouble. See to your sister.”

Elise moved quietly toward the bedroom. “You’re letting me stay, then?”

“I’ll sleep on it.”

She started to ask him where he planned to sleep on it, inside or outside, but then thought better of it. It was enough for now to know that he wouldn’t be trying to sleep with her.

Slipping inside the bedroom, she closed the door and wished it had a lock of some sort. She turned up the wick on the lantern and tucked the covers around Penny.

“Did you say your prayers tonight?”

Penny nodded, twisting onto her side. “Do we have to stay in this house? Can’t we go back to Baltimoah?”

Elise bent over her to kiss her forehead. “There isn’t anything left for us in Baltimore, Penny. We’re going to be happy here. You’ll see.”

“I keep thinking maybe Mama and Papa might not be dead. Maybe they got lost and those people in the accident that night belong to some other family.”

“They’re gone, honey.” Elise ran her thumb over Penny’s warm, freckled cheek. “But you’ve still got me and Adam.”

“Wonder if Adam’s sleeping all alone. You think he’s got his own bed?”

“Maybe. We’ll visit him in a few days and see for ourselves. Good night, little one.”

“Good night.”

Elise sat on the other bunk and listened to the clatter of dishes in the next room. The mattress beneath her was hard. She felt it and realized it was stuffed with straw instead of feathers. With a long sigh, she went to stand by the window and looked up at a fat, sad-faced moon.

It seemed as if the whole world was lonesome tonight.

H
ooking the basket handle on her arm, Elise stepped outside with Penny. In the morning light, the farm looked fresh and green and big. Trees were abundant near the cabin but had been cleared out in the fields, with only an occasional lonely oak or elm to give refuge from the relentless sun.

“I don’t see Alonewolf, do you?” Penny asked.

Elise smiled and touched a finger to the tip of Penny’s freckled nose. “It’s Lonewolf, Pen, not Alonewolf. I think we should call him Blade.”

“Okay.”

“I can see him. Look, straight out that way past the barn. See that speck? That’s him, I believe.”

“Are we going to walk all that way?”

“Oh, it’s not so far.” Elise descended the three porch steps with Penny at her side. “And it’s a beautiful day.”

“Will we see Adam?”

A cloud seemed to descend as Penny directed Elise’s thoughts to their stray lamb. “Maybe, but probably not.”

“When can we see him?”

“We’ll try to visit tomorrow. I’ll speak to Blade
about it. For now, we should get used to our new home.”

Elise stopped and turned back to the house. Wood-hewn, it was smaller than it felt inside. A rock chimney climbed up one side; a naked trellis climbed up another. The porch would be inviting with a couple of rocking chairs on it, Elise thought. She eyed a low tree branch and decided it cried out for a rope swing.

“This place has promise,” she said, mostly to herself.

“It’s nothing like the one in Baltimoah,” Penny noted. “It’s little.”

“Well, we don’t need a bunch of rooms to clean. This is large enough for just us.”

They walked on, their joined hands swinging between them. As they passed the barn, Elise nodded at it. “We’ll investigate in there later. I’ll bet there are horses and mules and all kinds of interesting things inside.”

“Let’s look now!”

“No, we must get this breakfast to Blade first.” Elise hoisted the basket she carried. The contents weren’t fancy—hard-boiled eggs, leftover biscuits and a jug of water—but it was the best she could do without Airy’s guidance. She couldn’t yet find the courage to cook without Airy standing beside her. Perhaps after a few days she’d become more self-confident. In the meantime, she didn’t want to burn the cabin down while trying to fry eggs.

Thankfully, Blade had fired up the stove that morning before Elise or Penny had awakened. When Elise had roused from her sleep, Blade had already left for the fields. She didn’t know if he’d fixed himself breakfast, but she decided that even
if he had, he could use more nourishment after toiling in the fields.

“What’s planted out he-ow?” Penny asked, skipping ahead of Elise to the first rows of humped earth.

“I’m not sure,” Elise admitted. “We’ll have to ask Blade. Penny, let’s work on your pronunciation. Growl for me. Say ‘grrrrr.’ ”

Penny grinned. “Grrrrrr.”

“That’s good. Now say ‘grrr-oh.’ ”

“Grrrr-woe.”

Elise shook her head. “Try again.”

“Grrrr-oh.”

“That’s right!
Grow
. You practice that every so often, and try ‘grrr-een’ while you’re at it.”

“You think I talk funny, Elise?”

“You talk a little like a baby, and you’re not a baby anymore. You’re a young lady, so you should sound like one.”

“I’d love to be a lady.” Penny pirouetted and flipped her long hair up on her head. She batted her carrot-colored lashes outrageously.

Laughing, Elise regarded her young sister with new awareness. Penny had lost her baby fat and most of her baby mannerisms. Perhaps their parents’ death had robbed her of the last days of her innocence. Of course, at the age of eight, Penny was ready to shed the first stage of life and embrace the next, but Elise couldn’t deny a stab of regret.

Brushing aside the melancholy feeling, she pointed upward at a set of whirling blades. “Look at the windmill, Penny. Can you hear it singing?”

Penny cocked one ear. “It’s squeaking.”

Elise laughed. “Well, it’s all in what you want to hear, I suppose. I like to think that it’s singing to me.”

“Why does it spin?”

“It brings us water from belowground. That’s how it’s done in the country.”

“Let’s wace.”

“I can’t run with this basket. You go on. Run to that forked tree up there beside the path.”

“Okay. Weddy … set … go!” Penny darted ahead, yellow skirts and red hair flying.

Elise picked up her pace while familiarizing herself with the layout of the farm. She’d noticed a chicken coop east of the cabin. A corral, feed lot, hog pen and goat pen spread out behind the weathered, unpainted barn. She’d counted ten cows, five hogs and a couple dozen goats. A fat, dappled gray horse paced in the corral. Up ahead, she could see two mules tethered to a shade tree, while two more labored with Blade farther on.

A farm wife. That was what she was now. Farm wife. Elise tried it on, finding the fit strange, even uncomfortable. She knew nothing about farming, nothing about livestock or much of anything other than attracting suitors and being a lady of leisure.

The courtesies and social graces she’d been taught would be of no use in Crossroads, Missouri. What she needed was instruction in sewing, cooking and cleaning. Her knowledge of a working farm was minimal. While she’d heard of slopping the hogs, she had no idea how it was done. And, yes, she knew that cows gave milk, but how did one manipulate an udder to squeeze out the milk? Hens laid eggs, but would the fowl attack her if she attempted to take the eggs? If she’d only known what her future held, she would have paid closer attention to the house help and how things worked, instead of spending her time learning how
to handle a household staff and how to waltz like a dream.

“Out of breath?” Elise asked as she approached Penny.

“No. I found a snail.” Penny held out her hand, palm up, to show off the slimy treasure.

“Ooo, Penny! That’s not a snail; that’s a slug! Drop that nasty thing!” Elise hunched her shoulders against the revulsion rising in her. “Don’t wipe your—” Too late, she thought as Penny rubbed her hands on her yellow skirt. “Never mind.” She shaded her eyes with one hand and located Blade again. He’d stopped the mules and was looking in her direction. She waved. He didn’t wave back. Elise held up the basket, but he turned to his mules and farm implements.