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Mail Order Motherhood (Brides of Beckham) Page 7
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She quickly pulled the nightgown she’d hid in his room over her head and rushed up the stairs to dress for the day. She washed herself quickly in the cold water from the pitcher in Natalie’s room before changing into a clean dress and apron. She fashioned a bun on her head, and rushed down the stairs to start breakfast before anyone woke.
Albert was just coming out of his room when she reached the bottom of the stairs, and she found she couldn’t meet his eyes. “Good morning,” she mumbled as she hurried to the stove to start the fire.
He watched her scurry to the stove and wondered what her problem was. He’d thought their night had gone better than he could have hoped and had really expected most of the nervousness between them to be over. He pulled on his coat and headed to the barn to milk the cow and gather eggs, still contemplating what was going on with his new wife.
Did she regret coming to my bed last night? Did I hurt her? I know I did at first, but I thought she found her pleasure. Maybe I scared her somehow. He hurried through his chores, so he could run into the house and talk to her about the night they’d had. He wanted to be able to speak to her before the children came down.
When he got back into the house, he saw that Clarence was sitting at the table dressed for work, and Natalie was at the stove helping her mother cook. Natalie took him a cup of coffee while Clara quickly fried up the potatoes that were left from supper the night before. He loved that his new wife never wasted a thing. She worked hard to be sure they used all of their resources to the best of her ability.
Just the other night he’d watched her and the girls cutting up some of the old woolen dresses they wore. When he’d questioned it, Clara had explained they would braid the strips they’d cut into rugs so they wouldn’t have to stand on the cold floor during the winter. Clara liked to be barefoot, and she would put one in front of the work table so she could work barefoot all through the year.
He took the pail of milk and basket of eggs he carried to the work table, leaning down to kiss her cheek as he set the things down. “You all right this morning?” he asked softly.
She nodded without meeting his eyes. She put the potatoes she’d chopped into the frying pan and broke several eggs into it as well. “Breakfast is just about ready. Sit down and drink your coffee.”
He eyed her for a moment before walking to the table and the coffee Natalie had set at his place for him. He took a deep sip and sighed. He wanted to talk to her but knew that wouldn’t be possible until the children were in bed.
All through breakfast, he kept watching her wondering what he’d done wrong. He certainly hadn’t forced her into intimacy.
Clara felt his eyes on her through breakfast, and she felt as if she were the worst person alive. How could she have been so forward? Husband or not, he was the man, and he should have been the one to initiate things between them. She didn’t know if he’d want her to sleep with him again, or if he’d send her back upstairs to stay with Natalie.
She ate her breakfast slowly, hoping he would leave with Clarence and not try to talk to her at all. She really didn’t think she could face him.
Finally, he stood, thanked her for breakfast and set his hat on his head. “We need to move the cattle today, Clarence. You remember how I showed you to use your rope?” he asked. He couldn’t waste more time in the house waiting for her to talk to him. He had to get some work done.
Clara watched the two of them leave the house, thankful again for how good he was with Clarence. She loved that he was teaching his son the skills that Clarence wanted to learn.
She spent the day as she spent every day, but she worried more than usual. By the time he came in at the end of the day, she’d decided she wouldn’t wait for him to send her up to sleep with Natalie. She’d just do it herself. She’d go downstairs and talk to him as if nothing had happened after the children were in bed, and when it was bedtime, she’d simply climb the stairs and sleep with her daughter like she always did.
She wished she felt like she could talk to Albert about her concerns, but he had made it clear that he didn’t enjoy talking about things like that, and she wasn’t going to press him.
After she’d tucked the children in, she climbed down the stairs and saw him sitting at the table whittling as he did every night. “Would you like another piece of pie?” she asked.
He looked up, his eyes meeting hers. “That would be nice.” He watched her as she moved to the stove and uncovered the blackberry pie she’d made for him. “It was the best pie you’ve made.” He wished he had the right words that would make her stop being so prickly.
“Thank you.” She cut two generous pieces and poured two glasses of milk, returning to the table to sit with him while they ate the treat.
He took a bite and sighed happily. “I’ve never met a woman who could bake quite as well as you do.” He was almost ashamed to say it, though, because he had loved his first wife, despite her lack of cooking and baking skills.
She smiled, her eyes meeting his for the first time all day. “I bet you say that to all the ladies.”
He laughed softly. “I don’t think I’ve ever said it to anyone before.” He looked down at his pie, wondering how to phrase his question. Finally, he decided he’d just say it. “What did I do wrong last night?”
She looked at him in surprise. “Wrong? You didn’t do anything wrong. Why would you ask that?” She was shocked he would even bring up their night together.
He shrugged. “Well, I thought everything was fine between us, but when we got up, you weren’t really speaking to me.” What was he supposed to think about that?
She sighed, staring down at her pie and flicking at the crust with her fork. “I just feel like I shouldn’t have pushed you into intimacy. That’s the man’s place, not the woman’s.”
He blinked in surprise. “If you hadn’t pushed me, we’d have waited a lot longer to be comfortable with each other. I think you were right. The way we were together was unnatural.”
“But I still shouldn’t have done it, and I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “You should have done it. You did the right thing for both of us.” Albert stood and took his empty pie plate to the basin for her to wash with the breakfast dishes, going back to the table and removing her empty plate to set next to his. “But if it makes you feel better, tonight I’ll be the one to start things off.”
He took her hand and pulled her into the bedroom, shutting the door with a snap behind them. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly. As soon as her mouth was free, she looked up at him. “You really don’t mind?”
“Mind? I can’t think of a man alive who would mind. I enjoy making love with my wife.”
She smiled, her head resting against his shoulder. “Then I guess we’re all right?”
He laughed softly. “We’re more than all right.”
*****
They found an easy routine after that. Their first real challenge was the first blizzard to roll through. As soon as Albert realized how bad it was, he strung some rope from the house to the barn so he could go back and forth easily to milk the cow and collect the eggs. They’d known a storm like this was bound to come, but she’d been surprised to see the first so early in the year. It was only early November. She was pleased that he wouldn’t allow Clarence to go out to the barn with him in the bitter cold.
Clara had planned on washing clothes the morning of the blizzard, so she simply strung a line up in the cellar and dried the clothes down there, keeping to her routine as much as possible. Natalie, Clarence, and Gertie sat at the table working on their schoolwork, while Clara mended clothes. Robert played quietly as he did every day while the older children completed their studies.
Albert was the problem. He paced the room. Back and forth. Back and forth. He couldn’t be still. “Are you all right?” Clara asked when she got too dizzy to let him continue.
He nodded once and resumed pacing. Clara tried again. “Do you want me to get your whittling for you?”
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He shook his head, continuing to pace. She assumed it was just that he didn’t enjoy being stuck indoors, so she kept up her work, and tried not to notice his pacing. After the children were in bed, and all the work for the day was finished, he finally explained. “Every time we have a blizzard, we lose cattle. I always worry we’ll lose too much of the herd to keep going.”
Clara’s eyes widened with understanding. “When will we know how they fared?”
“When the blizzard is over. Hopefully this one will just last a day. Sometimes they’re four or five.”
They’d had blizzards in Massachusetts, of course, but they hadn’t had cattle to worry about. Farmers weren’t affected as much by the blizzards as the ranchers. She tried not to worry.
Finally after the third day, the winds died down, and he and Clarence left to assess the damage. They only lost a few head. He was relieved as he told her of their losses in bed that night. “I’ve lost as many as a hundred head in these storms. We were lucky this time. Only five were lost.”
They were thankful there weren’t more lost during the storm. “I’m so glad. Five isn’t good, but it could have been so much worse.”
“I know.” He hugged her close.
“For Christmas I’d like to have a turkey. Do you think you could get one? I want to make stuffing and mashed potatoes and gravy. I know my kids love that.”
Albert nodded in the darkness. “I can do that. You have big plans for Christmas?” Sally had always made a big production at Christmas time, and he loved the idea of continuing that for the children.
“I’d like our first Christmas together to be special. I’ve made special gifts for all the children. I still need to finish Clarence’s, but the others are done.”
“And what would you like for Christmas?” he asked.
“Oh, I don’t need a gift. I have everything I could possibly need.”
“So you’re going to rob the children of the joy of giving you a gift?” he asked in mock surprise.
“I just don’t need anything.”
He sighed. “We’ll think of something.”
*****
The only thing that kept Clara from being completely happy during the first months of her marriage was not understanding her husband. He would be kind and considerate at times, but he was sullen and withdrawn at others. She could never understand what would happen to turn him moody.
One evening in mid-December while they were eating supper, he announced he had to go into town the following day. She’d written two letters: one for her parents and one for Elizabeth Miller to let them know she was faring well. She wrote to Elizabeth because she wanted to, but to her parents, because she felt obligated.
“Would you post some letters for me while you’re in town?” she asked. She really wanted to go with him. Would he be angry if she asked?
He gave a curt nod. “Have them ready in the morning.”
“I’ve already written them. I was just waiting for you to go to town to mail them.” She looked at the children. “Would it be all right if we all went with you?” She clenched her hands together in her lap, hoping he’d agree.
He looked at her in surprise. “Well, I don’t know about that. It will be very cold.”
She shrugged. “We have coats, and we’ll cover up with quilts. We can take some hot potatoes for our lunch, and they’ll keep our feet warm.” If Albert and Clarence could handle the cold, then she and the others could too.
He studied her for a moment before finally saying, “I suppose that’s fine. Make sure the children are dressed for it, though. I don’t want any complaints about how cold it is.”
“I won’t complain,” she said with a smile. She looked around at the children. “Will you complain if it’s too cold on our way to town tomorrow?”
They all shook their heads. “We want to go!” Gertie said, in a way that told Clara that a trip to town was a big treat for his children.
Back in Massachusetts her children had walked to town every day to go to school, so it was a bit odd to her that his children went to town so rarely.
The next morning dawned with a bitter wind, but she was determined to take the children. She put long underwear on all of them, and then put their regular clothes over the top. They all wore coats as well. She took every quilt in the house in an effort to keep them warm. She’d gotten up well before dawn so she could bake some potatoes for their lunches, which they would also use to keep their feet warm.
After breakfast Albert turned to her with a look of worry. “Are you sure it’s not too cold for the children?”
Clara nodded. “The children will be fine.” The sleigh had two seats and the three older children sat in the back together while Robert squeezed between Albert and Clara on the front.
The ride to Billings was very cold, and they all huddled together, but the potatoes kept their feet warm, and Clara was happy to get out of the house for a while. She wanted to try to find just the right knife for his whittling. It was his only hobby, and she wanted him to have something special to do his carvings with. She still had a bit of money from the sales of her household goods in Massachusetts, so she could afford one.
Of course, they also needed more flannels and more yarn so she could continue making clothes that would keep them warm through the winter. She had even begun working on a new quilt for Robert with all of their old ragged clothing they no longer would wear.
It was really too cold to talk much, so they sat huddled together under the blanket that covered them. When they reached town, he helped her down from the sleigh while the children found their way down. They all went into the mercantile to look for different things.
It was the first time Clara had been to the store in Billings, so she wandered around for a moment to figure out where everything was. She went to the fabric table, and saw that the knives were directly next to the bolts of cloth. She fingered some of the materials while she looked over at the knife display. There was one that had a man on a horse with a cowboy hat and a lariat, and she smiled. That was the one she wanted.
She chose six different colors of flannel for new underclothes for everyone as well as new nightgowns and dresses. She quickly chose some yarns and some dried goods, but there wasn’t much they needed in the way of food. Her husband had obviously planned on being snowed in for the winter and chosen accordingly.
She took her purchases to the front and explained that Albert would be paying but said she wanted the knife for him for a Christmas gift. She wanted that wrapped and given to her alone. She got the amount and gave him the money she had in her pocket. “Thank you for your help,” she whispered.
She went over to the pot display and looked at what they had. There were a couple of huge pots that she would love to have to cook with, but she wasn’t going to ask for anything for herself. As long as he was seen to and the children had whatever they needed, she was content.
While she was looking, she overheard a conversation. “Look at her standing there acting as if she has a right to spend his money, when he paid for her to come out here and marry him.” It was a low feminine voice, and Clara bristled at its tone.
Another voice reached her. “I can’t believe someone would actually become a mail order bride. You’d have to feel like you were bought and paid for. It must be like being a slave.”
Clara felt tears pop into her eyes and walked across the store to a small display of pocket watches. She wasn’t going to let the women hurt her feelings. She’d put up with a lot of snide remarks back in Beckham when she didn’t immediately remarry and instead tried to make a go of farming. She could handle this.
*****
Albert looked at the display of brooches on the table in front of him. He knew that Clara had sold her favorite cameo brooch before leaving Beckham so she wouldn’t come to him with her children in worn clothes. She hadn’t told him, but Clarence had told him a lot while they’d worked together. He was glad he had the older boy to divulge things to him.
> As he looked over the display, a couple of local ranchers came up beside him. “You sure do have all the luck, Hanson.”
Albert looked at the other man, Frank, wondering what he was talking about. “Why?”
“You had the prettiest wife in town, and when she died, you send off for a mail order bride. You could have gotten some ugly thing with a terrible personality, and instead, you end up with a pretty little bride who actually seems to enjoy being here. How do you do it?”
Albert knew the other man was referring to how many of the local rancher’s wives seemed to go crazy during the long winters. He shrugged. “You’re right. I’m lucky.” He didn’t talk about the anguish he’d felt when Sally died. These men were idiots, and he would never share anything personal with them.
The second man, John, shook his head. “Maybe I’ll send off for a mail order bride too. If I can get one as pretty as yours, I’ll start looking forward to going to bed at night.”
Albert wasn’t going to listen any longer. “Do you two actually need something?”
The first man shrugged. “Nothing more than a little bit of your luck.”
Albert chose the brooch that he thought looked as much as possible like the one Clarence had described. He picked it up, and kept his hand clenched around it while going toward the front.
The second man followed along with him. “I guess that means you care for the pretty new wife. Sure got over the other fast, didn’t you?”
Albert said nothing as he paid for the purchases that had been stacked on the long counter for them. He knew that Clara had added some things, and he’d told Clarence to pick something out for Clara from him.
Samuel, the merchant, put everything into wooden crates for him. “Nice new wife you have there, Albert. Glad to see you’re not always having to come to town for bread any longer.”