Mail Order Matron

Book Eight in the Brides of Beckham

By Kirsten Osbourne

Copyright 2013 Kirsten Osbourne

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At thirty-four, Julia had given up on love.  She had spent sixteen years nursing her sick mother, and now that her mother had passed on, she had no idea what to do with herself.  She answered an advertisement to be a mail order bride, knowing she needed a new beginning.

Edward, a Kansas farmer, had been alone for six years since the death of his wife.  He was sick of eating his own cooking, tired of living in filth, and more than anything, he was lonely.  He sent off a letter to try to find a bride, hoping against hope someone would answer it.  When Julia stepped off the train, she was nothing like he'd expected her to be.  Could a marriage based on mutual loneliness work out?

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Prologue

September 1870

Julia stood facing Joseph under the oak tree where he’d asked her to marry him just three months before.  “I’m so sorry, Joe.  I have to take care of Mama.  At least for a little while.”  Julia clung to his hands, her eyes begging him to understand.  “The doctor said she’ll either be better or she’ll be dead in a year’s time.  If she dies, I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t take good care of her.”  She hated asking him to wait for her, but she didn't feel she had a choice.

Joseph gathered her close, kissing the top of her head.  “I don’t want to wait, but I’ll do it.  We’ll get married a year from today, right?” 

Julia nodded, her eyes filling with tears.  “Yes, one year from today.  We’ll marry and have a dozen kids.”

He laughed.  “I don’t know about a dozen, but half a dozen sounds good.” 

They talked for a few more minutes while she thought about how she was the luckiest woman alive to have found such a perfect man.  She was only eighteen, and she knew he was the right man for her.  One year, and she’d be his wife.

She slowly walked home wishing things had been different for them.  She’d loved Joe since they were in school together, and the idea of not marrying him when they’d planned upset her, but truly there was nothing either of them could do about it.  Since her mother had been afflicted with polio, she had to take care of her.  She just thanked God it wouldn’t last too long.

Her mother was an unhappy, demanding woman now that she was so ill and taking care of her on a regular basis was already bringing Julia down.

*****

October 1885

Elizabeth Miller leaned back in her chair in the parlor of the Long House in Beckham, Massachusetts.   Her butler and man about town, Bernard, had brought her a letter from Seattle.  Elizabeth knew well what that meant.  Harriett was either staying in Seattle or coming home.  She fully expected her friend and employer to stay where she was, because she would never run away from her responsibilities unless it was absolutely necessary.  If it was necessary though, she would be on the first on a train back to Beckham, and then Elizabeth would be out of a job and back living with the demon horde, her ten younger brothers and sister.

Elizabeth said a small prayer before she opened the envelope.  She adored Harriett, and hoped that all was well with her, but she also didn’t want to go back home.  Her job had given her something to look forward to every day, and a way to escape the reality of her home situation.  She loved her parents with everything inside her, but they had become lax in discipline with their youngest eight children.

“Dear Elizabeth, I hope this letter finds you well.  I know you are doing well with the business, because I know you wouldn’t do anything less.  I want to let you know that I’m deeding the house and the business into your name.  You are no longer my employee.  We’ll continue as we have been, of course.  You can keep all the income from the business, and the upkeep of the house and servants will continue to be paid from the fund I set up for that purpose.  Thank you again for taking on a job that could have been temporary and for keeping on the servants.  I appreciate it more than you will ever know.  Let me know if you have any questions regarding the running of things.  I will write again soon.  Yours, Harriett.”

Elizabeth flipped the letter over and looked for a bit of personal news, but there was nothing.  She frowned.  She was happy to hear she’d be keeping her job and the house, of course.  Who wouldn’t be?  But she still wanted to know how Harriett was making out in Seattle.

She picked up a second letter from her desk and read it.  Hmmm.  A thirty-eight year old widower with no children, miles from his nearest neighbor.  Who would want to marry him?  He was a poor dirt farmer, with no real hopes of being anything more in his life, but he enjoyed working the land and planned on doing it for the rest of his life.

She sighed.  Surely there was someone who would suit him.  She’d write to the man and let him know she was looking for someone, but that it could take a while.  She wouldn’t tell him that he wasn’t exactly a matrimonial prize.  Certainly he already knew that.

Chapter One

August 1886

Julia stood over her mother’s grave barely listening to the words the preacher was intoning.  The doctor had said her mother would either recover or die within a year.  Sixteen years later, her time taking care of her was finally over.  She knew it was horrible of her to even think it, but she was relieved, even as she was consumed with grief.

The sicker her mother had become, the angrier and more critical she’d become.  The last sixteen years had been extremely difficult, and she resented the years she’d given her mother.  She knew she’d done the right thing, but that didn’t seem to be enough.  She wanted back the years that she had been criticized and yelled at.  She wanted to go back to being eighteen with her whole life in front of her.

Glancing up, she could see Joseph standing with his wife and four children.  He’d waited two years for her, but had finally given up.  How could she blame him?  She kept asking for one more year, and he finally told her he couldn’t agree to that.  He needed a wife, not a woman who could see him for fifteen minutes a day with her mother bellowing at her from the other room the entire time.

She quietly dropped her handful of dirt onto the coffin and stood smiling as people shook her hand and offered their condolences.  The whole time her mind was racing.  What now?  Her entire adult life had been devoted to caring for her mother.  She had the small house they’d lived in.  Money wouldn’t be a real issue.  She wasn’t rich by any means, but she wasn’t a pauper.  What she was—was alone. 

Joseph took her hand in his.  His wife and children had walked off to their wagon.  “I want you to know how sorry I am.  I hope you understand I just couldn’t keep waiting for you.”

Julia nodded, her blue eyes clear.  “I appreciate the fact that you waited as long as you did.  Most men wouldn’t have.”  That much was true.  She did appreciate how long he’d waited.  She wished he’d waited forever as he’d once said he would, but of course, that was something a woman could never ask for.

“What will you do now?”

She shrugged.  “I have no idea.  I’ve put so much time into caring for Mother that there wasn’t really a world outside.  I’ve barely been to church in the last sixteen years.  I don’t know anyone anymore.”  She sighed.  “You don’t need to hear my troubles.  I’ll clean out mother’s things and go from there.”

“I hope you have only good experiences from here on out.”

She nodded gravely.  “Thank you.”  She turned to greet the next person, wondering if she would ever be able to stop loving Joseph.

As she slowly walked home, she thought about what she could do with the rest of her life.  She was thirty-four years old.  She had no trade.  No marriage prospects.  No real skills unless one considered cooking and cleaning.  Julia walked from the cemetery on the outskirts of town to the small house she’d grown up in which was on one of the main streets. 

Many people had baked cookies and cakes and casseroles.  She didn’t have a place to keep them from getting bad, so her first order of business was walking and giving away all but one of the casseroles.  She couldn’t eat them all even if she wanted to, and one of her mother’s primary complaints about her had been her thickening waistline.  She’d protested that she couldn’t help but gain weight when all she did was stay in the house, but her mother had just become angrier.  “So you’re blaming the fact that you’re fat on me?  Don’t you talk to me that way!  You’ll respect me!”

Julia forced the memories out of her head while she picked up the casseroles.  She made the slow walk across town carrying six of them.  She’d carefully labeled who the dish needed to be returned to for each one, but there was only one place in town she knew of that could consume that many casseroles. 

She didn’t want to set the dishes down, so she gently kicked the back door of the orphanage, hoping it would sound as if she was knocking.  When an older woman, Rebecca Spivey, who had worked there when she’d volunteered just after finishing school, opened the door, she smiled.  “A lot of different people brought me casseroles when my mother died.  They’re going to go bad if they don’t get eaten.”

Mrs. Spivey smiled, clasping her hands to her bosom.  “Julia!  It’s been ages.”  She took the casseroles and set them on the counter before turning to hug Julia.  “I’m sorry to hear about your mother, but so happy to see you.”

Julia smiled and accepted the woman’s invitation to sit.  “She just died two days ago, so I’m at a loss for what to do next.”  She shook her head.  “I know I’ll pack up her things and donate them.  Money isn’t really a problem, but all my friends have moved on.  I really don’t know anyone anymore.  Mother resented every minute I spent anywhere but with her.”

Mrs. Spivey frowned.  “I always hated that you devoted all your time and energy to her.  At least for the first month or two, she still let you come here, but after that you were her slave.  You should have hired someone to come in, if only for a few hours per week, so you could have time to do the things you wanted to do.”

“Mother didn’t want that.  She said that if I wasn’t with her, she had no idea what kind of shenanigans I’d be up to.”

“Once her things are packed, you’re welcome to come back here.  We can always use the help.  I know volunteering is probably not what you’re thinking about doing, but at least you wouldn’t be alone all the time.”

Julia nodded.  “I’m certain you’ll be seeing a lot more of me as I work through what I want to do next.”

“Have you thought about marriage?”

Julia laughed.  “I was all set to marry before Mother got sick.  Who would I marry now?  Joseph married thirteen years ago.”  She’d never forget the day he’d come to her and told her he was going to start courting Mary.  She had cried and cried.  She’d understood of course, but that hadn’t made her feel any less terrible about it.  The man she loved had given up on her and was off to marry someone else.

Mrs. Spivey nodded slowly before standing up to get something.  She came back and put the local newspaper in front of Julia, pointing to an ad.  “It’s in there every day, and has been for years.  Wording is a little different now, but I think that’s what you should do.”

Julia looked at the advertisement, her eyes widening with surprise.  “Mail Order Bride agency needs women who are looking for the adventure of their lives.  Men out West need women to marry.  Reply in person at 300 Rock Creek Road.  See Miss Elizabeth Miller.” 

A mail order bride?  She’d heard women did things like that, but there was an agency for it right here in Beckham?  Was she that desperate to get away?

Julia’s eyes met Mrs. Spivey’s.  “I’ll think about it.  I’m not sure if I’m quite that desperate yet.”

Mrs. Spivey shook her head.  “I don’t see it as desperation.  You’re not doing it for money.”  She took Julia’s hands in hers.  “You have lived with your mother doing nothing but caring for her for years and years.  You can’t have happy memories in that house.  I’ve met your mother and can only imagine the way she’s talked to you over the years.”

Julia didn’t respond, but her eyes dropped.  She tried not to talk badly about her mother, but it was difficult at times. 

Mrs. Spivey continued, taking Julia’s lack of response as agreement.  “You’ve spent so much time in that quiet house.  You need a fresh start.  I don’t think you should even stay in Beckham.  This is what you need.”

Julia shrugged.  “I’ll think about it.  I really will.”

“Think hard about it.”

They talked for a little longer, Julia’s mind flying over the things her friend had said.  She walked home, and worked on crating up her mother’s things for an hour or two.  There was nothing she wanted from the vast assortment of clothing and belongings.  She just wanted everything out of her way so she could move on with her life. 

The more she thought about the idea of being a mail order bride, the more the idea had potential.  No, she didn’t need to do it financially, but she needed to get away.  She needed to do something just for herself for the first time in her life, but was being a mail order bride the way to do that?

She argued with herself as she methodically stuffed everything in crates.  What kind of man would want a thirty-four year old plump wife anyway?  What kind of man advertised for a mail order bride?  Yes, she knew there were fewer women out West, but why wouldn’t they just travel to the East for a while to meet someone and take her back with them?

Once she’d finished crating everything, she glanced at the clock.  It was time for supper, so she wandered down the stairs to the kitchen.  She had kept one of the casseroles for herself and put it in the oven to heat up.  She leaned against the work table, eating a cookie from the few she’d kept, imagining what kind of man would look for a wife through a mail order bride agency. 

She pictured a dashing banker meeting her at the train station, his blond hair bright in the sunlight.  He would know her immediately, and their eyes would meet.  He’d approach her and take her into his arms…

She laughed aloud at herself.  She was actually daydreaming.  She hadn’t done that in years.  Her mother had been firmly against it.  She’d been against humming and singing while you work as well.  If you had time to hum and sing, then you weren’t working hard enough.  During her first year of taking care of her mother, she’d still been prone to singing while she hung out the wash, because there her mother couldn’t hear her.  The habit had died off as the song had left her.  She’d had no reason to sing.

She’d given up on all of her childish fantasies of happiness years ago.  For some reason, her mother had been offended that Julia could be happy while her mother had been on her sick bed.  She shook her head.  She had a right to dream all she wanted to dream now. 

She pulled her dinner out of the oven and sat at the table quietly eating.  She hadn’t been allowed to eat at a table in a long time.  Her mother had insisted that she carry her own food upstairs on a tray so they could eat together. 

By the time she finished eating, she decided she would go see Elizabeth Miller up on Rock Creek Road.  She wanted the life she’d given up for her mother back.  She’d go first thing in the morning before she lost her courage.  She wondered how long it would take to find a man who wanted to marry her.  Hopefully not long.

*****

The walk to Rock Creek Road only took a few minutes.  When she arrived she knocked on the door and waited, somewhat impatiently, for someone to come to the door.  A young man in his mid-twenties opened the door for her.  “May I help you?”  He was tall with blond hair and blue eyes.  He fit the fantasy she’d had about the banker who ran to meet her as she stepped off the train.

“I’m here to see Miss Miller.”  She straightened her hat and tried to look as if she had business at a house that was obviously owned by someone who was extremely wealthy.

“Yes, of course.  Is she expecting you?”

“No, she’s not.  My name is Julia Jordan.”

He nodded briefly and opened the door wide for her.  “Follow me please.”  He led her back along the long hallway and stopped in front of a door off to the left.  Knocking once, he pushed the door open.  “Miss Miller?  I have a Julia Jordan here to see you.”

Julia was surprised when she saw the young woman.  She didn’t even look old enough to have finished school yet!  Why would a woman her age be running a mail order bride agency? 

Miss Miller stepped forward and shook her hand.  “It’s so nice to meet you, Miss Jordan.  Are you here about my advertisement?”

“Yes, I am.”

Miss Miller nodded at the butler.  “Bernard?  Would you be certain that fresh tea and cookies are brought to us please?”  After the door closed behind the man, she indicated the couch and took her spot behind the desk.  “So tell me why you want to be a mail order bride.”

Julia had been hoping that question would not be asked of her, but she couldn’t answer it with anything less than complete honesty.  “I was engaged to be married years and years ago, but my mother contracted polio.  I put off the wedding for a year to take care of her, because the doctor told me within a year she would either be fully recovered or dead.  I put him off for another year after that.  He eventually found a wife, and they’ve had four children.  I’ve been taking care of my mother for sixteen years now.”  Julia sighed heavily.  “She died just three days ago, and I find that I’m all alone in the world.  I’m thirty-four years old and have no job interest and no marriage prospects.  I just don’t want to be alone forever.”

Miss Miller nodded sympathetically.  “Of course you don’t.  Who would?”  She turned to her desk and flipped through a stack of letters.  “I have an idea of a man who might suit you very well.”  She found the letter and handed it to Julia turning back to her desk while the older woman read.

Julia glanced at the letter in her hand, surprised there was a possible husband with a letter just laying there.  “Dear potential bride, I’m a thirty-eight year old farmer who is seeking a wife.  I moved to Kansas to make a go of farming ten years ago with my wife, but she died five years ago.  I have no children.  I would like a wife who doesn’t mind that I plan on farming for the rest of my life.  I have no ambitions to make a lot of money.  I just want to work my land.  If that idea appeals to you, then you may just be the bride for me.  I’d like a woman who is at least thirty.  I don’t mind if she’s been married before and looks really aren’t important to me.  I need a woman who wants children and isn’t afraid of hard work.  If you are willing to take on a farmer in the middle of nowhere, please reply.  Sincerely, Edward Allen.”

Julia leaned back in her chair and thought about the words she’d just read.  She definitely wasn’t afraid of hard work.  If he didn’t care about looks, then her waist being larger than was fashionable wouldn’t bother him.  She had been isolated with just her mother for company for so long, she didn’t think living in the middle of nowhere would bother her.  She shrugged.  He’d do.

She looked up at Miss Miller.  “Yes, I think he’ll do nicely.”

The younger woman smiled.  “I’m so glad!”  She pulled a blank piece of paper from her desk, along with a pen and ink, and handed them to Julia.  “Please write him a letter telling him a bit about yourself.  I’ll send it out, and we’ll go from there.”

Julia frowned.  She’d really hoped she’d be sent out much sooner than that.  “How long does the whole process take?”

“It can take months.  First, we need to get a letter back from him, which will include train tickets and a small amount of spending money, if he’s interested.  Then we’ll make sure you have what you need, and you’ll be off.”  Miss Miller smiled sweetly.  “My sister was a mail order bride over a year ago.  She’s extremely happy with her placement.”

Julia nodded to indicate she’d heard before dipping her pen in the ink and quickly writing out a letter in her perfect script.  Once she was done, she folded it carefully and handed it to the other woman.  “How will you inform me when you’ve received a response from Mr. Allen?”

“Give me your address, and I’ll walk over once I receive one.”  Elizabeth wrote down the other woman’s address with a smile.

“Thank you.”  Julia wasn’t sure if she should leave or wait a moment before going.

The door opened, and Bernard came back carrying a tray laden with cookies and tea.  He set them down on the small table in front of the sofa.  “Thank you, Bernard,” Elizabeth said before turning back to Julia.  “Would you care for some tea and cookies?”

“Thank you,” Julia replied.  She wasn’t really hungry, but she reached for a cookie anyway, while Miss Miller poured tea for them both.  As they ate, they talked about the weather, and the way things are usually done with mail order brides.  Elizabeth had a lot of insight into how things worked, not only because she’d run the mail order bride business for a year, but because her sister had been a mail order bride.

“You never know what will happen when you step foot off that train.  Our agency has sent out sisters to marry brothers, and they ended up each marrying the wrong brother.  When my sister arrived, her fiancé had died, and she married his brother.  Anything can happen.  We’ve never had a bride go out and not be met at the station, though, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

By the time Julia left, she felt as if she knew pretty well all the things that could go awry in a mail order match up.  She didn’t want to wait a month or longer before leaving Beckham, more for fear she’d lose her courage than anything else, but she didn’t see where she had a choice.  She walked home and resumed her task of packing her mother’s things.  There was a charity that would come get them all in the morning.

Chapter Two

Edward rode his horse into town as he had each week for the past year.  Would anyone ever answer his letter to be his bride?  He’d gotten a quick response from the woman running the agency a year before, but she’d simply said that she would be working on finding the perfect wife for him. 

He went into the mercantile in Abernathy, Kansas with no real hopes of finding a letter waiting for him.  He’d keep up the weekly rides for another month, but then he had to get back to his normal routine.  He was wasting too much time as it was.

John, the man who ran the mercantile, looked up.  “I have something for you.”

Edward eyed him.  “New nails?”

John laughed.  “I have that letter you’ve been waiting for.  Beckham, Massachusetts, right?”

Edward rushed to the counter and held his hand out.  He hated that the other man had looked at the return address on his letter, but he’d been there looking for it so obsessively, he couldn’t really blame him.  Once he had the letter, he grunted his thanks and hurried outside to read it.  If this woman would work, he’d mail out train tickets before he left town.

He quickly read the letter she’d sent.

“Dear Edward, You sound like exactly what I’m looking for.  I’ve spent the past sixteen years caring for my invalid mother and gave up my only chance at marriage to do so.  She has passed away, and I find I’m alone in the world.  I’m a hard worker and have extensive experience cleaning house and cooking.  I’ve also spent a lot of time gardening and canning.  I can sew and mind children.  I would love to have children of my own someday.  I would be content to move to a small farm in Kansas to be a farmer’s wife if it included the ability to have children and be a wife.  I am short and a bit plumper than is fashionable.  I hope you’ll consider me.  Yours, Julia Jordan.”

Edward read over the letter again, before nodding to himself.  He was so pleased to receive a letter that he wasn’t about to be picky.  Walking to the train station, he purchased a ticket that would leave Beckham, Massachusetts in two weeks and arrive there in Abernathy a few days later.  He went back to the mercantile and borrowed paper and pen from John, quickly scrawling, “I’d be honored to have you as my wife.  Enclosed is a train ticket for your trip here, and some money for your travels.  Yours, Edward.”

He then wrote a quick letter and addressed it to the mail order bride agency, enclosing the necessary amount to pay for their services, even though it had taken them a year to find him a bride.

When he was finished addressing them, he handed both to John.  “Thank you.”  He could see the speculation on the other man’s face, but said nothing more as he turned and headed back out to the farm.  Finally, he’d have a bride.  No more beans for every meal.  No more washing his own dishes when there simply wasn’t another clean pot to cook in.  He couldn’t wait.

On his way home he stopped at Leah’s grave and knelt down carefully explaining what he’d done.  He felt like he’d given it enough time since her death so it wasn’t a betrayal, but that didn’t make it easier for him.  He had been deeply in love with his wife, and although he didn’t love this Julia, marrying her did still seem like it was wrong.  He sighed.  If only Leah had been stronger and able to withstand the prairie without giving in to melancholy. 

*****

Julia spent the time waiting for a letter crating up everything in the small house.  She knew there was no guarantee that Edward would choose her, but she had decided that no matter what happened with him, she was leaving Beckham.  She needed a fresh start, and she could get it by selling her parents’ house and moving on. 

She was standing in her small kitchen looking around at what she had left when she heard a knock on the door.  She had a list of things for sale up at the general store, and it was probably someone coming to look at what she had.  She opened the door and stepped to one side, embarrassed that Elizabeth Miller would see her small home when she lived in a mansion.  “Come in.”

Elizabeth stepped inside and looked around.  “Wow, you’re getting ready to go, aren’t you?”  She held out a letter and waited as Julia took it, her eyes lighting up with excitement. 

“You didn’t open it?” she asked, surprised.

Elizabeth shut the door behind her.  “May I sit?” she asked.  At Julia’s nod, she sat at the small table.  “The letter is addressed to you in care of me.  I’m not going to open your mail.”

Julia sat across from Elizabeth and carefully opened the letter.  As she read the words, she slowly smiled with relief.  She held up the train tickets for Elizabeth to see.  “He wants me to come.”

“Of course he does!”  Elizabeth smiled happily.  “When do you leave?”

Julia looked down at the date on the tickets.  “Tomorrow!  He should have given me a little more time.”

Elizabeth looked at the date on the letter.  “No, the mail was just slow.  He gave you a full two weeks for the letter to be delivered before you leave.  That should have been enough time.”  She stood up.  “What more do you need to do?  Are you packed and ready?”  She rolled up her sleeves.

“Mostly.  I still have to sell my table and chairs and my stove.  The beds upstairs.  The house sold last week, but they’re giving me a month to leave.”

“I’ll take the table, chairs, and stove.  I can be the one to deal with those things, and I’ll forward the money on.  Are you packed?”

Julia shook her head.  “No, but I’ve purchased everything you said I’d need.  I can pack tonight with no problem.”  She shrugged.  “I don’t think there’s much left to do.”

Elizabeth nodded.  “Let me help you pack.  Are your things in your room?”

Julia was surprised that the society woman would be willing to help her pack, but she didn’t say anything about it, and instead, led her to the stairs and her upstairs bedroom.  “Right through here.”

Elizabeth helped her carefully fold her things and pack them.  “What will you wear to marry?”

Julia held up a dress she’d set aside.  “I’ll pack this on top, and if he gives me time to change clothes before we marry, that’s what I’ll wear.”

“Most men find a way for you to bathe and change, but not all.  If it doesn’t happen, don’t think less of him.”

“I thought that was probably the case.  If he lives in the country, we’ll have to marry in town before we head to his farm.  You don’t think he’ll want to spend a night in town, do you?”

Elizabeth shook her head emphatically.  “If he’s like most farmers, he’ll need to get home to see to his livestock.  Just driving to town is a hardship.”

“Sounds like you know a lot about farmers,” Julia said as she folded the last of her underclothes to put in the pile.

Elizabeth shrugged.  “My father is a farmer.  I know more than I care to about the lifestyle.”

Julia frowned at the younger girl.  “If your father is a farmer, how did you end up living in that mansion?”

Elizabeth briefly explained.  “After my sister moved to Texas to marry, I was the oldest child, and I understood then why she was always so frustrated with our younger siblings.  When I ran into the former owner of the mail order bride business in town, we talked.  Last year, when she decided to become a mail order bride herself, I saw her in the post office, and she invited me to have lunch with her.  I thought she wanted me to be a bride, but instead, she asked me to take over the agency.”

“Do you enjoy running a business?”  Julia wasn’t sure she would ever be able to be a businesswoman.  She actually enjoyed keeping house.

“I do.  I wanted to get away from my family, but my plan was to become a teacher.  This suits me far better.  I can still see my family when I choose, but I can stay in town when I want to be away from them.”

“Is your family that bad?”

Elizabeth laughed softly.  “My younger brothers and sisters have been nicknamed ‘the demon horde’ by the good people of our church.  They’re not exactly people you’d want to spend time with.”

Julia laughed.  “Oh, my!  No, I don’t think I would.”

They chatted as they finished the packing.  Before she left, Elizabeth asked, “What time does your train leave tomorrow?”

“Eleven in the morning.”

“I’ll meet you there if you don’t mind.”

Julia was surprised.  She hadn’t expected anyone to be there to see her off.  “I’d like that a lot.”

After she closed the door, Julia smiled to herself.  How odd that she’d find someone she liked as much as she liked Elizabeth.  She had made an incorrect assumption about the other girl and never would have allowed her into her life if not for her business with her.  The girl was just like she was in so many ways, though.

At the train station, Elizabeth took Julia’s hand in hers.  “I need you to promise me one thing before you leave.”

Julia frowned.  “What’s that?”

“Promise me that if Edward doesn’t treat you well, you’ll come back to Beckham.  Or go anywhere really, since you do have some money of your own.  I just don’t want you to stay in a bad situation.”

“I won’t.”  She’d been mistreated enough by her mother.  There was no way she was going to stay in a bad situation with a man.

When her train was called, she hugged her friend, thankful to have a place to come back to if everything didn’t work out well.  “Thank you!”

“Don’t forget to write and let me know how you are!”

Chapter Three

It was noon on a Monday afternoon in late September when Julia’s train pulled into the tiny station in Abernathy, Kansas.  She was tired and more than a little grumpy after sitting up in a train for four days straight while traveling.  It was certainly better than traveling by horse and buggy, because it was faster, but the constant motion of the train had left her sick to her stomach most of the trip. 

She stepped off the train and stood on the platform waiting, wondering how she was going to recognize Edward.  Only two other people got off the train, and one was a man, so it shouldn’t be terribly difficult for him to find her.

She stood quietly waiting, hoping he would hurry.  Her train had arrived an hour early, which she was told was unheard of.  She finally sat down in the waiting area of the train station, as if she were waiting for another train to arrive.  She hoped he hadn’t forgotten her.

When Edward arrived in town ten minutes before the train was due, he immediately went to the mercantile.  Trains were always late, and he wanted to get a fair amount of supplies before he picked up his new bride. 

When he was finished, he was surprised to see no crowd waiting and the train already in the station.  He rushed to the platform, but there was no one there.  Finally, he went to the waiting area, hoping to find his new wife and saw her sitting quietly looking quite forlorn.  He didn’t introduce himself right away, but looked at her, learning her.  She had blond hair and blue eyes.  She looked like she’d been a beauty when she was younger, but years and hard work had taken their toll.  She wasn’t ugly, but she certainly wasn’t the sort of woman a man fell at the feet of, which suited him just fine.

He walked to stand in front of her, feeling a bit self-conscious.  Her eyes drifted up to his.  “Miss Jordan?” he asked.

She breathed a sigh of relief.  It was very obvious to him that she thought he’d left her there.  “Edward?”

He nodded once briefly.  “Yes.”  He leaned down and took the carpet bag at her feet.  “Is this all you brought?”

She shook her head.  “There’s a trunk over against the wall.”

They walked over together, and he found someone to help him get it onto the back of the wagon.  Once that was accomplished, he helped her onto the wagon seat, pleased that she hadn’t complained about waiting for him.  “I was planning on going straight to the preacher’s house.  He said he’d marry us anytime this afternoon.”

Julia nodded, staring straight ahead.  It suddenly hit her at that moment that in a few hours, she’d be sharing a bed with this man who was a total stranger.  He’d expect her to lie under him and let him do—things to her that she’d never done.  Would she be able to allow herself to do that?  Or would she run away screaming into the night?

He pulled up in front of the minister’s house and helped her down.  “Do you think the minister’s wife will let me change into a different dress?  I made a pretty one for our wedding.”

Edward frowned.  He didn’t want to waste the time it would take for her to change clothes and make herself pretty for their wedding, but he knew that like most women, those things were probably important to her, and he didn’t want to tell her no.  Not when they’d just met a few minutes before.  “Can you do it quickly?  It’s a long drive out to the farm, and I still need to do the evening chores.”

She nodded.  “I’ll be fast about it.”  She wished he hadn’t felt the need to make sure she hurried, but she understood that his animals were his livelihood.

He helped her down and carried her bag to the house for her.  When he knocked on the door a young woman, in her late twenties opened it.  “May I help you?”

“Pastor Johnson promised he’d marry my fiancé and me today.  Is he in?”

“Oh, yes, of course!”  She stepped aside so they could enter the house. 

“Would you mind if my bride took a little time to change first?” he asked.

The woman nodded.  “That would be fine.”  She smiled at Julia.  “Just come this way.  You can change in my room.”  She led the way to a small bedroom.  “Would you like for me to redo your hair for you?”

Julia nodded.  She didn’t really need the help, but she certainly wouldn’t turn it away.  She knew she hadn’t slept more than ten hours during the four days she’d been traveling, and she was exhausted. 

She changed quickly with the other woman’s help, and then she sat down while her hair was fixed.  Julia tried to keep her head up, but all she wanted to do was sleep.  She forced herself to focus on her soon-to-be-husband.  She catalogued his features.  He certainly wasn’t someone she’d call handsome.  He had dark hair and brown eyes.  She’d imagined a man with blond hair.  He wore a straw hat that he’d only taken off when they’d entered the tiny house, letting her see his hair was all pushed down where the hat had been. 

He was definitely acceptable to her, though.  It’s not like there were other men beating down her door for the privilege of marrying her.  Once her hair was finished, she stood up, tucking the dress she’d taken off back into her bag knowing he’d want to leave as soon as the knot was officially tied.

Back in the parlor, Edward waited with the pastor, tapping his foot impatiently.  She’d said she’d hurry.  How long did it take to change your dress?

When she came out, her hair looked like it had just been fixed, and her dress was much nicer than the first.  Not that it really mattered to him. 

Julia rushed to Edward’s side, facing the pastor with him.  The service was short and sweet.  Every wedding she’d ever been to had taken at least an hour, but hers only took a few minutes.  When he lowered his head to kiss her, it felt strange.  She’d only ever been kissed by one man in her life, and having another touch her seemed strange. 

After the ceremony, he shook hands with the minister and handed him some money.  He took her carpet bag and escorted her to the wagon.  After helping her up, he ran around to the other side, slightly annoyed with her for taking so long to get ready.  “We’re going to have to hurry to get home.  That took longer than I’d expected.”

She couldn’t believe he’d complained that she changed out of a dress she’d worn for over four days.  “I’m sorry if you think it took longer than it should have.  I’d been wearing the same clothes since leaving Massachusetts and was feeling like something that just climbed out from beneath a rock.”  She faced straight ahead as she said the words, refusing to look at him.

He sighed.  “Let’s not start our marriage off on the wrong foot.  Tell me about your family.  Were you an only child?”

She shook her head.  “No, I wasn’t.  I had a brother, but he died of polio at the same time as my father, and that’s when Mother was afflicted as well.  I’ve been nursing Mother since 1870.”

He stared at her in disbelief.  “Sixteen years?  That’s a long time to be devoted to someone.”

She shrugged. “She was my mother.  She died in her sleep just days before I answered your letter.  I had to get away from the house I’d grown up in.  Away from all the people who knew me.”

“What was your mother like?” he asked, hoping he could draw out the conversation and learn something about the stranger he’d just agreed to love, honor, and cherish.

Julia thought about that.  “Before she was ill, she was wonderful.  She taught me so much about how to be a good wife.  She spent as much time as she could with me every day.  After, she changed.  Part of it was losing her husband and son so close together, but part was simply being bedridden.  She had always been active, going on long walks and spending time outdoors.  After, she couldn’t really be moved.  I tried to get her to move downstairs, where I could help her into a wheeled chair and take her outside, but she refused.  She became a recluse after that and expected me to do the same.”

“She didn’t let you have friends?”

“No, she didn’t.  I was engaged to be married when my family fell ill.  The doctor isn’t certain how it skipped me, but I’m thankful it did.  Within a month, we knew that she needed me to care for her.  My fiancé agreed to wait for a year, but one year became two, and then he moved on.  He couldn’t keep waiting.  He’s married to a sweet girl we grew up with, and they have four children together.”  She shrugged as if she didn’t care that he’d moved on, but she still did. 

“I’m sorry.”

She shook her head.  “I’m fine.  It was a long time ago.  His oldest boy is thirteen now.”  She stared ahead for a moment.  “What about your wife?”

“We were married young.  I was twenty, and she was eighteen.  We never had any children.  When we moved here eleven years ago, we were going to make a fresh start.  We’d lived in New York City, and we both had to work all day in factories there to survive.  We decided to take advantage of The Homestead Act of '62 and move out here where we could have land.”  He sighed.  “I loved working the land, but she hated feeling like she was isolated from the world.  She wasn’t happy from the day we moved here.  Six years ago, she caught fever, and I couldn’t get her to a doctor in time.”

“I’m sorry.”  She knew the words were inadequate, but she had no others for him.  She wanted to let him know that she truly understood the grief that came with losing someone you loved, but how?

“I’m sure it was almost a relief for her to get off this prairie. As much as I love it is just how much she hated it.”  He didn’t look at her as he spoke about his dead wife.  

She nodded.  “I won’t try to take her place.”

He turned to her then.  “You are taking her place in some ways, but I’m happy that you understand I’ll always love her.”

“I do.”  She didn’t add that she still loved Joseph.  They’d do fine together if neither of them ever expected anything else from the other.

They drove the rest of the way in silence.  She wanted to talk to him, but had no idea what to say.  He was a virtual stranger to her, and she was going to his house as his wife.  What had she been thinking?  Nothing had forced her to do this.  By her own actions, she was here, and she was going to have to make the most of it.

She hadn’t seen a house in at least thirty minutes when he pulled onto a dirt road and stopped in front of a small house.  It wasn’t small enough to call a cabin, but it wasn’t much bigger.  She could tell he’d added on to it at least once, so maybe he would again as their family grew.

He helped her down from the wagon and carried her trunk inside, while she carried her carpet bag.  He put the trunk in front of the bed in the small bedroom.  Everything else was in the main room.  There was a cook stove with a work table on one wall, along with a small basin and a water pump.  She was relieved that she’d have water in the house and wouldn’t have to carry it from a well.

There was a table that he’d obviously made himself and four chairs surrounding it.  Dirty red and white checkered curtains hung at the windows, and she decided washing them would be one of the first things she did.  The place needed a good fall cleaning soon. 

She eyed the pile of dishes in the sink, wondering how long they’d been there.  Would she be able to handle the amount of work that would come with just getting this house into shape?  She sighed heavily, exhausted.  Today, she couldn’t, but after a good night’s sleep, she was sure she’d be ready to put a dent in it.

She walked into the tiny bedroom as he was leaving, accidentally brushing up against him and jumping back, her cheeks turning bright red.  “Sorry,” he mumbled.  “I need to go milk the cow.”  He said nothing else as he hurried to the door to see to his evening chores.

She stared down at the dirty quilt and dirty sheets on the bed.  She’d brought with her a quilt she’d pieced herself over the long years taking care of her mother.  She also had a set of sheets, and she immediately stripped the bed and put her own clean things onto it.  She wasn’t sleeping in filth if she didn’t have to. 

She looked through the kitchen and sighed at the lack of food.  How did he expect her to cook when the only things he had on hand were milk, eggs, and beans? 

The door opened, and he brought her the milk.  “I’ll get the rest of the supplies from the wagon.”

“Supplies?  You bought supplies?”

He chuckled.  “You think I’m going to get married just so I can keep eating beans and scrambled eggs for every meal?  I got lots of supplies for you.  Had a good harvest this year.”

He carried in barrels of food.  And she peeked into each one as he set it down.  She sighed with relief.  There was sugar, brown sugar, lard, flour, and canned goods in a huge crate.  He even had some different meats for her to use.  “Wonderful.  I’ll be able to feed us well on all this.”

He gave her a half smile.  “I also enjoy hunting.  As long as there are animals to hunt, we’ll have a steady supply of meat all winter.”

She looked through what she had to work with and mentally calculated the time.  “Would you mind if I just did pancakes and bacon for supper, and tomorrow I’ll start cooking?  I don’t really have time to do anything else tonight.”

He shook his head.  “I still have some chores to do, but I knew you’d need food if you were going to cook.”  He left without another word.

She ran to the door to call after him.  “I’ll have supper ready in an hour!”

He raised a hand to indicate he’d heard her as he walked away.  She turned to the kitchen and rolled up her sleeves.  The dishes had to be done before she could even think about cooking. 

As she worked, she quickly thanked God that he’d at least learned to soak the pots he used to cook with rather than letting everything cake on.  It was the only thing he seemed to do to make the dishes easier, but she was pleased he did that.

She forced her mind to stay on the task at hand, rather than worrying about the wedding night to come.  She really had no idea how that would be.  Her mother had explained to her what happened on her wedding night, but she’d done it to tell her that she was better off when Joseph married another woman.  It had been said sarcastically and cruelly. 

She couldn’t imagine Edward hurting her, but she’d only met him a few hours before, and her mother’s words were ringing in her ears.  “You must lay back and submit and allow him to force his way into your body.”  She shuddered.

She refused to think about it.  Instead she made a mental list of the things she wanted to accomplish the following day.  She needed to wash the curtains and the bedding as well as the dirty clothes she’d seen strewn around the house.  She wanted to get the windows washed, the floor scrubbed, bread baked, the stove blacked, the food put away, and the walls cleaned.  She didn’t know if she could do it all in one day, but she was certainly going to try. 

Once she was caught up, she’d be able to just do the things that needed to be done on a daily basis, rather than playing catch up with the things that had been neglected.  Looking at the floor, she wasn’t certain if it had been cleaned since Edward’s first wife had died.  She hadn’t expected much in the way of the house or its cleanliness, though, so she accepted the work as her role in life.

It took her thirty minutes to get the dishes washed and put away.  She added reorganizing the kitchen to her mental list as she looked for the frying pan so she could make the bacon and pancakes.  It was a quick, easy meal she’d made hundreds of times, but on the new stove it was different.  She had to watch the fire more closely than she had on her stove at home. 

When Edward returned from his chores, she was just putting the pancakes on the table along with a glass of milk for each of them.  She would serve coffee in the mornings, because she’d noticed that he had some coffee beans and a grinder, but she was too tired to add anything that might keep her awake.  Sleeping tonight would be necessary for getting her chores done the following day.

She took a seat and watched as he washed his hands before sitting down across from her.  She didn’t know if he was one to pray before meals, so she waited a moment, and when he just stabbed some pancakes from the small pile on a plate, she asked, “Do you mind if we pray before eating?”

He chuckled.  “I’ve gotten so used to praying silently that it never occurred to me you’d want me to pray aloud.”  He bowed his head and said a quick prayer, thanking God for their food and for bringing her to him safely. 

She echoed his “amen” before putting some pancakes and bacon onto her own plate.  “How many animals do you have?” she asked.

“Four horses, two cows, one’s a bull, so leave them alone, and about twenty or so chickens.  Some are roosters, but some aren’t.  We have several laying hens.  Five pigs, including four sows.”  He shrugged.  “Got a dog out there too.  His name is Sam.  He’ll come when he’s called and stay with you if you get nervous being alone out here like we are.”

She nodded her head.  “I might need that for the first few days.  It does seem very isolated out here.”

“Oh, it is.  All my crops are in for the year, so I’ll be working on fences and repairing buildings for the next while.  Got to plow the fields as well.  I do have several acres of winter wheat growing, and I’ll be watching that as I need to.”

“What do you grow besides wheat?”  She took a bite of bacon and closed her eyes as the flavor washed over her. 

“I grow corn and wheat.  Leah always kept a kitchen garden as well.”

Julia nodded.  “It’s too late in the year now, but I’ll start one next year.  I love working in a garden.”

He blinked at her in surprise.  “You do?  Leah always hated it, but said it was her duty as a farmer’s wife.”

“Oh, no.  It will be a pleasure for me!”

He watched her for a moment before nodding.  “I’m glad you’ll enjoy it.”

She smiled.  “Honestly, I think I’ll enjoy most aspects of life here.  I didn’t enjoy taking care of my mother, because she refused to let me leave the house unless I needed to go to the store, and she was very clear about how long each trip to the store should take, but I loved the housework and cooking.”  She shrugged.  “I feel like that’s what I should be doing.”

He nodded.  “I hope you still feel that way in the spring after we’ve been trapped here in the house several times by the cold.”

She reached out and covered his hand with hers, surprising even herself.  “I’m sure I will.”

After supper, she washed the few dishes they’d dirtied and put them away while he sat at the table and watched her work.  When he’d first seen her in the train station, he’d been unsure how he felt about marrying a woman who was…well larger than he’d expected, but watching her work, he knew that he couldn’t complain.  She was a hard worker, and the way she moved while she cleaned had a grace to it that he hadn’t expected.

When she was completely finished, she turned to see him watching her.  She blushed.  “It’s been several long days for me.  I’m going to go change into my nightgown and get ready for bed.”

He nodded at her slowly.  “I’ll give you five minutes and join you.”  He watched her as she moved toward the bedroom.  He’d missed this part of marriage.  He knew he should really leave her alone with as tired as she obviously was, but it had been so long since he’d had a woman that he didn’t think he could lay beside her all night without touching her.  Besides, it was his wedding night.

He gave her the promised five minutes, and then five more, before going into the bedroom.  She was curled on one side of the bed, on her side, and her soft, even breathing filled the room. 

Edward sighed.  His bride had fallen asleep on their wedding night before he’d even had a chance to touch her.  He pulled off his clothes and blew out the lantern.  He’d just have to wake her in the morning and show her how good marriage relations could be.

Chapter Four

Julia woke to the feel of something on her cheek.  She went to push the offending object away, only to realize it was a hand.  She came awake with a start to realize she was in bed with Edward…her new husband.  Had she really fallen asleep before he’d joined her?  She was mortified.  No, she wasn’t looking forward to that part of marriage, but she knew he was. 

She turned toward him in the bed.  “I’m sorry I fell asleep.  You should have woken me.”

He brushed a soft kiss against her lips.  “I couldn’t wake you!  Not when you’d been on a train for four days.”  His hands moved against her neck and fluttered down to cup her breast through her nightgown.

She fought the urge to slap his hand away.  It didn’t feel right to have him touch her there when they’d only just met.  He stroked her gently, obviously trying to make her feel some of what he was feeling.  She laid still and let him touch her, but wanted to run away.

Finally, he sighed heavily.  “You’re not enjoying any of this, are you?”

Julia stroked his cheek with her hand.  “I’ve only known you for one day.  I want to make you happy, but this just doesn’t feel right.”

He rolled to his back and stared up at the ceiling, obviously frustrated with her.  “How much time do you need?” he asked, annoyance filling his voice.

“I really don’t know.  I don’t know you.”  Her mind raced as she tried to think up a solution.  “I’m not going to deny you your rights.”

“I don’t want a woman who is simply ‘giving me my rights.’  I want a woman who wants me.” 

She thought about that.  “Why don’t we say two weeks?  Two weeks of getting to know each other.  At the end of those two weeks, I’m sure I’ll be comfortable with you.”

He turned toward her in the dark.  He’d only known she’d existed for a little over two weeks.  Surely he could wait that long.  “During those two weeks, I can kiss you anytime I want, and try to convince you to shorten the time.”

She laughed softly.  “I think I’d like that.”

He rolled to his side facing her, and pulled her into his arms, his lips pressed against hers.  “I won’t hurt you.”

“Thank you for being so understanding with me.”  She couldn’t believe he was actually giving her a reprieve.  “I’ll do my best to make it up to you.”

He grunted in answer, obviously still slightly annoyed with her.  “I knew my first wife for three years, and courted her for two.  It makes sense that you’re not ready to just let me have my way with you.  No matter how much I wish it were different.”  He rolled out of bed, and dressed in the pre-dawn light.  “Go ahead and get breakfast going while I milk the cow and collect eggs.”

“Is there anything you don’t want for breakfast?” she asked.

“I never want to eat a scrambled egg again in my life.  It’s the only breakfast food I know how to make, and I’ve eaten more than my share of them in the past six years.”

“No scrambled eggs.  I think I can handle that.”

She waited until he’d left the room before scrambling out of bed and putting on a simple work dress with an apron over it.  She would make him the best breakfast she could this morning.  How could she not?  He’d shown her a great deal of compassion by deciding to wait.

She lit the stove before digging through the crates and barrels he’d brought in the day before.  The simple answer would be to fix pancakes again, but she wanted him to see she knew how to cook more than one thing.  She came up with a loaf of bread wrapped in a towel.  He must have purchased it in town the previous day.  That was perfect.  She’d make French toast.  It was the best way to use up day old bread.

She made her mixture of milk and eggs before heating up the skillet.  She quickly fried up some bacon and had it cooling a bit while she dipped the bread and fried it as well.  She wondered how many pieces he would eat, but had no way of knowing.  He’d had an even dozen pancakes the night before, which had surprised her.  He wasn’t fat, but he was solid. 

She had just taken the last piece of toast off the skillet and put it onto a plate when he came back into the house, hanging his hat on the hook by the door.  He carried in a bucket of milk and a basket full of fresh eggs.  She was pleased to see how many eggs there were.  “Do the hens give that many every day?”

He nodded.  “Usually I mix some in with the pig slop, so none go to waste.”

She smiled.  “Assuming you like sweets, I’ll make good use of all those eggs.”

He grinned slightly and nodded.  “I love sweets.”  He advanced toward her and washed his hands before catching her about the waist.  She didn’t like him touching her there, because she felt like she was too big, but she didn’t say anything.  He lowered his head and kissed her softly, his tongue going into her mouth to stroke against hers.  “I love sweets almost as much as I love kissing my wife.”

He let her go abruptly and took his spot at the table while she blushed and smoothed her dress.  Was that what he meant by kissing her whenever he wanted?  She put the bacon and French toast on the table before pouring them each a cup of coffee.  “Do you take milk or sugar in your coffee?” she asked, startled by the weak sound of her voice.

“I like it black.”  She set the cup in front of him, and watched as he took a sip.

She added butter and maple syrup to the table before taking the spot across from him.  He prayed for them, and he watched as she fixed her toast.  “I haven’t had French toast since I was a little boy.”

“It’s one of my favorite ways to use up day old bread.  My mother hated waste, so I had to be certain not to throw anything away.”

“I like bread stuffing too.  If I can bring in a turkey, would you make me some bread stuffing?”

She smiled and nodded.  “I’d be happy to.”

He ate his first bite of French toast, and his eyes closed as he savored the taste.  He’d obviously been eating his own cooking for way too long if he was that excited over such a simple meal.  She knew then that she would spend some time spoiling him with different foods.  She liked the idea of fixing him things that he could enjoy.

“What are your plans for the day?” he asked after he’d swallowed the first bite.

“I have a whole list of things I’d like to get done, but the top priorities are doing the wash, putting away all the food you brought in yesterday, and getting some baking done.  We need to have fresh bread.  Will you come to the house for lunch?”

“Lunch.”  He smiled.  “I haven’t eaten lunch in a long time.  There was never any point in cooking three times a day.”

She smiled.  “Lunch.  You must have been starving by the time you came in for supper.”

“I was, but I only knew how to cook two things, so I just got tired of eating them.”

She frowned.  “Well, I’ll make sure I don’t make beans any time soon.  Would that help?”  She didn’t like saying it, because beans were an inexpensive, filling meal, but she could understand his boredom with his simple meals.

“For a while at least.  I’d appreciate that.”  He thought for a moment.  “I’ll come to the house around noon for lunch if that suits you.”

“That sounds fine.  I’ll have something ready.”  What she didn’t know at that moment, but she’d figure it out.  She’d always been a creative cook for herself.  Her mother had insisted everything be done a certain way, so she had started cooking one thing for her mother and another for herself.  She was happy she had the years of experience cooking now.

When he had finished his plate of food, he leaned over and kissed her.  “I’ll see you in about six hours for lunch.”  He disappeared out the door before she could say anything else. 

She stared after him in surprise.  It was so odd to her that he kissed her so casually.  She was actually starting to enjoy it, and she wasn’t certain how she felt about that.

She jumped up and started on the dishes, scrubbing what they’d used that morning, before finding what she wanted in the food scattered everywhere that she wanted to fix for both lunch and dinner.  She took out some salt pork and decided to make a stew for lunch.  She could have some hot bread ready to go with it, and she knew that would thrill Edward.  She’d seen by the look on his face that morning that he’d be thrilled to eat anything he didn’t have to cook himself.

She started the stew on the stove top, before quickly mixing up the dough for the bread and leaving it on the table to rise.  She sorted through the barrels and carefully rolled them off to the side so she could use the room to the best of her ability.  She noticed the pull for the cellar door, and grabbing a lantern, went down into the cellar to see what could be used there.  She wouldn’t be able to get the large barrels down there on her own, but with Edward’s help maybe she could get them out of the way.

There were shelves lining every wall, but nothing was on them.  She sighed.  She would at least have a place to put all the canned goods he’d purchased in town.  For now she’d move them to the side, and hopefully she’d find the time to deal with them later.

She started on the washing next.  It was going to be a big job; there was no doubt about that.  She pulled down the curtains from the main room and then the ones from the bedroom, picking up the quilt and sheets from where it had been wadded up before bed the night before.  She found the scrub board and washing pan and wondered how often he’d washed things on his own, but she was afraid to ask.  The clothes he’d worn yesterday had been so dirty, she was afraid to find out he’d only washed once a month or so.

She had everything on the line and the bread baking by ten, so she sat down for a moment, looking around her.  She’d already accomplished a great deal, but there was so much left to do.  She took a few deep breaths and stood up, resuming her cleaning with the kitchen table.  It was so clean she didn’t feel the need to use plates when she was done.  Her mental image made her laugh.  She could just see the stew falling off the sides as they tried to eat it straight off the table.

She went into the bedroom next and washed the inside of the window.  She’d do all of them on the outside as soon as she finished with everything else.  She wanted the outside of her house pretty as well, but the inside being clean had to take priority.

She hurried to take the bread out of the oven and smiled as she saw how perfectly the loaves had come out.  She set the four loaves on the table and used a tiny bit of the butter he’d purchased in town to brush over the top of each loaf, to make them just a bit tastier.  Then she covered them all with a cloth, stirred the stew which was still simmering on the stove, and went back into the bedroom to scrub the floor. 

By the time Edward came home for lunch, the bedroom was sparkling clean. There wasn’t a big difference in the main room yet, so she shut the door behind her, hoping he’d be surprised.  She hurried to the kitchen and served him his stew, before cutting two pieces of the fresh bread for each of them and buttering both.  “Milk, water or coffee?”

“Milk would be good,” he replied, watching her work and admiring how much she’d already accomplished.  He’d loved his first wife, but she hadn’t been much of a cook.  Truthfully, he hadn’t eaten this well since he’d lived with his parents growing up.

She poured a big glass of milk for each of them and took the spot across from him.  “What time would you like dinner?” she asked as soon as he’d prayed for them both.

“Oh, about five or five-thirty is good.”  He looked at the barrels pushed up against the walls.  “I don’t want you moving those heavy barrels by yourself.”

She shrugged.  “I was careful, but I needed them out of my way while I worked this morning.”  She bit her lip.  “Would you be able to get them down to the cellar later?  Or are they too heavy?”

“Wouldn’t be a problem.”  He grinned at her.  “You really do like being a wife.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t have decided to be a mail order bride if I didn’t.”  She looked around the house.  “I’ll have the curtains back up and everything done by dinner time.”

“No big hurry.  There aren’t any neighbors to see in the windows.”

“Still, it makes me feel like I’m being watched at night with no curtains.  Even if it’s only the cows watching me.”

He chuckled softly, realizing then that he genuinely liked his new wife.  Not just her body, and not just her ability to cook, but her.  He was pleased to know that, but it made him feel guilty at the same time.  “I’ll blindfold the cows at night if I have to.”

She giggled softly.  “That would work!”

“Can I put the provisions in the cellar after lunch?  Or should I wait til this evening?”

“After lunch would be wonderful,” she said.  He’d be underfoot a little longer, but at least she wouldn’t have to keep working around everything.

After he finished lunch he went to her, where she’d already started washing dishes at the sink, pulling her into his arms and kissing her.  “Lunch was wonderful.  I’m going to put the barrels up against one wall.  If you want them moved, let me know.  Don’t do it yourself.”

She nodded, resting her head on his shoulder.  In just twenty-four hours he’d gotten her used to his touch.  She pulled back.  “Thank you for helping me with them.”

“Thank you for making me tasty food!”  He hurried to get the work done, while she finished the lunch dishes. 

Once he was finished and had left for the afternoon, she put the pot of stew on the back burner.  For today, she was going to use it for both lunch and supper, but she was going to try not to do that often.  She knew he was sick of eating the same things over and over.

She swept the main room and set about scrubbing the floors.  How could so much dirt have settled into a small space?  Had the floors even been scrubbed once in the six years since his wife had died?

Finally, she finished the floors and moved onto the walls.  She decided she’d wait to take everything out of the cabinets and scrub them out tomorrow.  Her back was starting to hurt from the work she’d already done.

She brought in the clothes from the line, carefully folding all of his things and hanging the curtains.  Once the laundry was put away, she reheated the stew from lunch.  She’d spent all day, and she hadn’t finished everything yet.  Another day or two and she’d have the house how she wanted it, and she could move on to more interesting things.

She quickly whipped up the batter for a cake, knowing that having the sweet would thrill her new husband. 

When he came in for supper, he brought in another pail of milk and hung his hat on the hook by the door.  He moved across the room to put the milk on the table beside her before pulling her close.  She’d covered the cake with a towel, and carefully aired out the house, hoping he wouldn’t realize she’d made the cake, because she wanted to surprise him.

The kiss they shared was a bit more intimate than before; his tongue swept into her mouth, and she clung to his shoulders.  When he pulled back, he grinned at her.  “I think I’m going to like being married to you.”  He sounded surprised to say the words.

She grinned at him.  She was finding that now that he was opening up to her more, she liked him too.  “I hope so.”  He sat at the table, and she brought stew again.  “I’m sorry to serve the same thing twice in one day, but I had a lot of other things to do today.”  She bit her lip, worried that he’d be upset with her.

He laughed.  “Just don’t serve it for five years straight, and we’ll be fine.”  He looked down at the stew.  “On second thought, if it’s always this good, and I’m not eating my own cooking?  You probably could serve it for five years straight.”

She laughed.  “I’m glad you don’t mind, but I won’t serve it for every meal.”  She took her seat across from him, a pile of bread in the center of the table.

They chatted happily throughout the meal, both of them starting to feel comfortable with the other.  “The house looks great.  I can’t believe you were able to do that much in just a day.”

“It wasn’t easy,” she said with a grin.  “I barely took any time off.” 

At the end of the meal, she stood to put her dishes in the sink and filled the sink with hot soapy water that she had heating on the stove.  When he brought her his bowl, she washed it quickly.  Turning to the cabinet she pulled down a small plate and took the towel off the cake, serving him a piece.

He stared at it with a big smile.  She hadn’t had the ingredients to make icing for the cake, so instead, she’d whipped some cream to top it.  She handed him the cake with a fork, and he hurried back to the table, taking a big bite.  “You made me a cake on a day you were cleaning the house from top to bottom?”

She smiled and shrugged self-consciously.  “You told me you like sweets.  I guess it’s my way of thanking you for being so understanding.”  Julia carried her own piece of cake to the table and sat down with it, taking a bite and smiling.  She was very happy with how it had turned out.  She hadn’t been sure with the different ingredients she had to work with than back home, but she’d done her best.

“You’re going to spoil me with good food and sweets.”

She smiled at him.  “You deserve to be spoiled.”

When they finished eating, he watched as she washed and dried the dishes.  When she turned around, he gestured for her to come to him.  Once she stood in front of him, he pulled her down onto his lap and nuzzled her neck.

She squealed with surprise.  “I’ll squash you!”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around her tightly.  “Squash me?  I’m made of stronger stuff than that.”  He nipped at her neck, surprising her, but causing a tingling sensation to travel all down her spine. 

She shivered in his arms.  “What are you doing?”

“I’m wooing my wife.”  He pulled her face down to his for a kiss, his tongue moving into her mouth to twine with hers.  His hands traveled up and down her plump body, enjoying the feel of her softness against his fingers.  He couldn’t believe she felt so unsure of herself.  She was perfect in his eyes.

He moved one hand around to cup her breast, and she stiffened with surprise.  Hadn’t he said he would give her two weeks?  She started to protest, but decided she liked the feel of his hand there and instead arched against him, turning toward him more fully.

He cupped her bottom and adjusted her so she was facing him fully with one leg on either side of his.  Her arms went around his shoulders and she gave herself over to the sensations he was causing her.  After a minute, he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers.  “We’re going to have to stop now if you want to stop.”

She was out of breath as she pulled back, looking into his dark brown eyes.  How could she have ever thought she favored blue?  She saw the spark in them as she sighed.  “I think we should.  I don’t feel right about it yet, although, your methods are very convincing.”

She realized then that her skirt was up to her thighs, and she blushed furiously, climbing off his lap to cover herself.  What was she thinking sitting on him like that? 

He chuckled softly.  “Soon, my dear wife, soon.”

She turned away from him and walked toward the bedroom.  “I’m going to change into my nightgown.  Give me five minutes, please?”

Chapter Five

Julia changed quickly and climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to her neck.  She didn’t want to risk Edward seeing her.  When he realized how she looked without her corset, he wouldn’t want to touch her at all any longer.

She’d just finished covering when he opened the door and shucked off his clothes, slipping into bed beside her.  Instead of turning away from her, he pulled her into his arms.  “You’re not going to kiss me good night?”

She sighed and lifted her lips to his, brushing them across his.  She pulled away and rested her head on his shoulder.  “I guess I was ready for the housework part of marriage, but this is still strange to me.”

He smiled in the dark, kissing her forehead.  “It’ll take a little time, but you’ll get used to me touching you.  Soon, I hope.  Because I plan on touching you everywhere.”  His lips dropped to her ear.  “Has anyone ever touched you between your legs?”

She shook her head with wide eyes.  “Never!”

“I will.  Soon.  What do you think it will feel like?”

He shouldn’t be talking to her this way.  Should he?  “I don’t know…”

“Do you want me to show you now?” he asked softly.  “I promise, you’ll like it a lot.”

She blushed, shaking her head.  “I can’t let you do that.”

He laughed.  “Nothing is wrong between husband and wife.  You’ll like what I do to you.”

“I don’t think this conversation is proper.”

“It’s not at all.  It’s naughty,” he whispered against her ear as he nipped it softly.  “You like it though, don’t you?”

“No, of course I don’t.”  She denied it quickly, but she did like it.  She liked knowing that he desired her.

“Go to sleep.  Tomorrow will be another long day.”  He tucked her head onto his shoulder. 

“I can’t sleep all pressed against you this way!” she protested.

“Sure you can.  You’ll even like it.”  He stroked her back soothingly until her breathing became even.  “Good night, sweet wife.”

*****

Julia woke to Edward kissing her, his hands stroking up and down her sides.  “It’s time to get up, sweetheart.”

She sighed, stretching.  “Is it morning already?”

He laughed.  “You’re not a morning person?”

She shook her head.  “Not in the slightest.  I get up and do what I’m supposed to do, but I’d rather laze in bed for another hour or two.”

He rolled out of bed and pulled his clothes on, his back to her in the pre-dawn darkness.  “Farm life means being up before the rooster.”

She grumbled.  “I should have thought of that before I married a farmer, shouldn’t I?”

He laughed softly.  “I’ll be back with the milk and eggs in a minute.”

When she heard the front door close, she jumped out of bed and quickly dressed for the day.  She hurried into the kitchen and started the stove and the coffee immediately.  She’d decided to toast some of the bread from the day before to go with some eggs and bacon.  She preferred her eggs with a soft yolk, and he seemed to be happy with anything she cooked.

She made him four eggs and herself two.  She served the toast with butter, but put a small pot of preserves on the table.  He must have found them in town.  She promised herself she’d find time to go berry picking that day.  She’d seen a patch along the narrow lane that led to their property.  She’d love to make some pies and her own jams.  She remembered making jams with her mother growing up and had always enjoyed the experience immensely.  She mourned the mother she’d grown up with still, but she’d been mourning her for sixteen years.

When he came in with the milk and eggs, she had the table set and coffee in front of each of their plates.  He set his burdens down and washed his hands, moving to sit across from her.  He took her hand in his as he said the prayer for their meal.  It was the first time he’d taken her hand for a prayer, and she liked it immensely.

He looked down at the eggs with a big smile.  “I tried to figure out how to make eggs this way, but I just kept ruining them!  I broke the yolk every time.”

“This is my favorite way to eat eggs.  Unless I have some cheese and then I like to make an omelet.”

“I like these just fine.  Thank you for always having meals ready for me.”

She was pleased that he was so grateful for everything she did.  Her mother had never thanked her for anything, and having someone who actually appreciated her made her feel good.  “I’m happy to do it.”

  “Is there anything you need me to do for you before I get to work today?” he asked. 

Julia nodded.  “Would you bring the tub in?  I feel like I’m covered in filth from the train still, and I really need a bath.”  The tin tub was leaning against the side of the house.  She could have managed on her own, but they both knew it would be much easier for him.

“Sure.  I’ll get it right after breakfast.”  His eyes met hers impishly.  “Do you need me to wash your back for you?  It’s hard to get yourself.”

“I think I’ll be okay.”  She blushed profusely, looking down at her empty plate.  She was shocked at how much he talked about intimacies.  She stood and took her dishes to the sink to wash them, and while she was there, she put some huge kettles of water on the stove to heat. 

He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her back against him.  “You’re so much fun to tease.  Who’d have thought a woman of your age could still blush so much?”

“Are you saying something about my age, Edward Allen?”  She turned in his arms, her hands on her hips.

He laughed.  “Course not, Mrs. Allen.  I wanted a woman who was at least thirty, remember?”

“Just not necessarily a woman who had never married who was over thirty?”

“I wouldn’t change that about you for anything.”

“Hmph.  Not even for a willing wife in your bed?”

  He hugged her tightly.  “I’m not angry with you for that.  I’m a little…anxious to get to that part of our marriage, but your feelings are more important than my physical desires.”  He kissed her quickly.  “Now let me go drag that tub in.  I’ll empty it at noon, so don’t you try to do that yourself.”

“I won’t.”  She saw that the first pot of water was boiling, so she pushed it toward one edge of the stove and put another in the middle.  She finished the dishes while he dragged the tub in, and he poured the first two pots of hot water into the tub for her, and followed them with some cold. 

“Test the water and see if it’s to your liking.”

She put her hand into the water.  It was still steaming, but not so hot she’d burn herself.  “That’s perfect.  Thank you.”

“You sure you don’t need my help?”

“I’m sure.  Go get some work done!”

He laughed as he left, shutting the door behind him.  She stood at the window and watched until he was out of sight before quickly stripping out of her clothes and sliding into the tub.  She didn’t think he’d return before she finished, but he was in a playful mood, and she wasn’t sure.

She washed quickly, making sure she washed her hair as well, before jumping out of the tub and dressing.  It was getting chilly in the mornings, and she shivered as she put her clothes on.

She planned a simple bacon sandwich for lunch, because she wanted to surprise him with a pie for supper.  She spent the morning cleaning out the cabinets, scrubbing them down, and rearranging them to her specifications. 

He didn’t say a word about having bacon sandwiches for lunch.  He just thanked her for cooking for him.  “What are your plans for the afternoon?” he asked.  He looked around the house.  “I can’t see that there’s much more that needs to be cleaned!”

She smiled proudly.  “I still want to do the outside of the windows, but that can wait another day or two.  I thought I’d wander around and explore the area for a bit.  I’ll start dinner and then do some walking.  I like to take healthful walks, and once the snow settles in, that’s going to be hard.”

“That’s fine.  Do you want me to show you around?”

“No, I’ll be fine, thank you.”

He left after lunch, kissing her quickly and squeezing her bottom.  His constant touch had her thinking maybe she should just break down and have relations with him.  She certainly wasn’t uncomfortable around him any longer.  She watched him go and quickly started a simple supper.  It was the dessert she wanted to surprise him with.

She rushed down the narrow road, carefully walking in one of the wagon tracks to avoid the overgrown weeds on either side of her.  She got to the spot where she’d seen the berries, and on closer inspection, realized there were both blackberries and raspberries.  She’d brought two pails to put the berries in, and she was thrilled.  She could make a jam of each one and some combined.  She’d never be able to pick all the berries, though.  She’d have to come back again the following day for more.

When she got back an hour later, she quickly cleaned the berries and mixed them with sugar.  She let the mixture set while she rolled out the pie crusts and threw the first pie in the oven.  She made three pies total with the berries she’d picked, knowing she’d go back and pick more to make jam with the following day.  It was going to be fun to see his excitement at the new dessert. 

She’d made pork for supper, using the salt pork he’d picked up in town and adding in some carrots, celery, onions, and potatoes.  She really wished she had fresh meat to cook with, but she was a city girl and much too squeamish to butcher an animal herself. 

When he walked in the house at five, he took a deep sniff of the air, and a smile covered his face.  “Pie?  Do I smell pie?”

She laughed.  “Maybe.”

He walked to where she stood in front of the stove about to take the pot with dinner out of the oven.  He scooped her up in his arms and twirled her around.  “Just so you know, I’m keeping you.”

“You weren’t planning to keep me before?”

“Well, I was, but now?  I’ll fight for the right.”

“I guess I’d better keep making pies!”

He kissed her, a long and lingering kiss that made her melt into him, her knees going weak, before he went to sit at the table.  “Dinner smells good, too.”

She laughed.  “But if I weren’t here, you’d skip straight to pie, wouldn’t you?”

He shrugged.  “I’d eat pie for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if no one was looking.”

“It’s a good thing that I’m here to keep you eating your meat and vegetables then, isn’t it?”  She put the potatoes and other vegetables onto the table and carried the meat over, setting it down.  “Milk to drink?”

“Yes, please.”  He watched her move, so happy that he finally had a wife to take care of him. 

After their prayer, she looked at him, biting her lip.  “It would be really nice to have some fresh meat to cook with.”

He smiled.  “Is that a hint?”

She grinned.  “Well, I can make do with what we have, of course, but I am used to having a butcher that I can run and see whenever I want.”

“I could butcher one of the pullets in the morning, and then do some hunting later in the week.  There are lots of birds and rabbits in the area.”  He shrugged.  “In another month, one of the neighbors will be butchering some of his cows, and I’ll buy one.”

“That would be nice.  Thank you.  Fresh meat will be nice to mix in with the salted meat, so we can have some variety.”

“I hope you don’t think that you need to have a huge variety to make me happy.  I’m so excited to not have to cook for myself anymore, I think I’d eat dirt if you seasoned it.”

She chuckled.  “I’ll keep that in mind.  I made a lot of mud pies as a young child.”

She brought them each a slice of pie as soon as they’d finished eating, and his eyes closed as he savored the flavor.  “Is that blackberry or raspberry?” He looked down at it questioningly.

“Both!”

His eyes lit up.  “No wonder it’s so good.”

“I’m glad you like them this way.  I made all three pies the same, but I’m planning on picking more berries tomorrow so I can make jam.  I’ll also can some pie filling so we can have pies through the winter.  I’d like to pick some apples this week, too.”

He frowned.  “I’ll go with you to pick the apples.  I don’t want you climbing trees by yourself.”

She laughed.  “I’m a lot stronger than you think I am.”

He shook his head.  “With all the work you’ve done since you arrived, I’m not questioning your strength.  I don’t want you hurt.”

“I’ll wait for you then.  Maybe some afternoon, you can spare time to pick apples with me.”

“There are a few apple trees on our property, but not a lot.  I hope apples aren’t your favorite fruit.”

She shook her head.  “They’re not, but I do enjoy apple sauce and a good apple pie.  I’d like to be able to make those for you.”

He sighed contentedly as he finished the huge slice of pie she’d served him.  “I’d like that as well.”

Julia cleared the dishes and quickly washed them.  She’d put in a full day, but after two good nights worth of sleep, she was feeling much better.  When she was finished she turned to find him watching her closely.  She smiled and walked to him, leaning down to kiss him briefly.  “You’re always watching me.”

He caught her hips in his hands and pulled her between his spread knees.  “I like watching you.  I can see the joy you have in what you do here.  It makes me feel…content.”

“I’m glad.”  She stretched.  “Would you like to go for a walk?  Maybe we could get a few of those apples tonight?”

He smiled, standing up.  “I’d be happy to.”  He found a burlap sack he’d gotten some seed in for the winter wheat, and he walked with her to the door.  “Let’s go see what we can find.”

He held her hand and talked to her about the land as they walked, pointing out different things that he thought might interest her.  When they reached the apple trees, she saw that they weren’t much.  “That’s really not a lot of apples, is it?”  She picked the apples she could reach while he picked ones that were a little higher on the branches.  The trees were obviously young, because there were very few apples that he couldn’t reach.

They managed to fill the bag he carried before they headed back toward the house.  “Thank you for doing this with me.”  Julia smiled up at him as they walked back, with him carrying the bag over his shoulder.

“You’re welcome.  I enjoyed it.”

“You did?  Really?”

He laughed.  “I got to spend time with you, which I enjoy, and I got to help with a dessert I’ll be eating.  What could be better?”  When they reached the house, he took the bag off his shoulder.  “Where do you want them?”

“Just set them there beside the work table.  I’ll take care of them in the morning.”  She yawned, stretching one arm above her head noticing the way his eyes followed the movement as her breasts were pushed against the front of her dress.  She blushed.  “I’m going to get ready for bed.”

She hurried into the bedroom and swiftly changed clothes.  She slipped under the covers as soon as she had her nightgown over her head.  She lay in bed, on her side, facing the middle of the bed.  She knew he’d be there soon, and they’d talk and kiss.

Edward paced the main room while he gave her the few minutes she needed.  Having her as his wife was so much better than he’d imagined it would be.  She was everything he’d hoped for.  She had no problem cleaning up a huge mess.  She cooked like a dream.  He found he was extremely attracted to her.  He just wished he hadn’t promised to wait for two weeks before consummating the marriage.  It was making him crazy to watch her and not make love with her.

He opened the door to the bedroom and blew out the lamp, getting undressed in the dark.  Instead of putting on his nightshirt as usual, he climbed between the sheets unclothed and pulled her against him.

She went into his arms happily but jerked back when she realized he wasn’t wearing anything.  “Where’s your nightshirt?”

He brushed a kiss across her lips.  “Wherever you put it when you cleaned up my things this morning.”

“Don’t you think you should put it on?”

“I prefer sleeping without it.  Does that bother you?”

Well, of course it bothered her, but she couldn’t bring herself to say so.  She liked being able to press up against his bare skin.  “No, it’s fine.”

His fingers danced across the skin at the side of her neck while his lips played with hers.  His hand skirted down her side and pulled her hips against his, pressing her into his erect manhood. 

She gasped with surprise when she felt him against her, but she didn’t move away.  Instead, she wrapped one arm around his neck and returned his kisses, trying to tell him without words that she didn’t need any more time.  She cared for him, and she was ready. 

When his hand cupped her bottom, pulling her even more tightly against him, she flexed her hips even closer. 

He pulled back and looked into her eyes by the light of the full moon streaming through the window.  “I want to make love to you,” he whispered.

She took his hand and brought it to her breast, arching against it, urging him to touch her.

Edward wondered if she realized what she was offering him but decided he didn’t care.  He was going to take all the liberties she was willing to allow him.  His hand cupped her breast, and he leaned down and sucked her nipple into his mouth through the thin cotton of her nightgown.  He unbuttoned the front buttons and slipped the fabric out of the way, his tongue toying with her taut nipple.  “You’re so beautiful.”

She shook her head, not believing him.  No one had called her beautiful since she and Joseph had split up, and she had been young and thin then.  Thinking of her former beau didn’t have the usual pain attached to it.  Was she falling in love with her husband?

Edward pushed against her shoulders, rolling her to her back.  His hand went to the hem of her nightgown and he slowly pushed it up, his hand caressing her leg from ankle to thigh.  He pushed her gown up above her waist, and his fingers trailed along her hip, to her stomach, then down through the curls shielding her innocence. 

When his hand reached her core she gasped, her breath shuddering out of her.  His mouth covered hers as his fingers toyed with her opening, one sliding inside to test her readiness. 

She clung to his shoulders, surprised that he would touch her in such a way.  She hadn’t known a man would use his fingers on her there and not just his man part like her mother had said.  He’d said he was going to, but somehow she really hadn’t believed he’d do something so wicked.  She was enjoying the sensations too much to ask him to stop.

He pulled his mouth from hers, staring down into her eyes.  “I want to make love to you, Julia.”

She wasn’t certain how she should respond, so she simply spread her legs a little wider, letting him know he was welcome.  He let out a shuddering breath, as if he’d been holding his breath while he waited to find out if she’d turn him away.  His mouth crushed hers again as he kissed her, his tongue moving to mate with hers.

He moved between her legs, bracing himself off her with his hands to keep from crushing her.  She moved her hands up and down his back, touching his skin with tentative fingers.  Would he mind if she touched him?  He’d tell her if he did, surely.

She felt something hard and much bigger than his finger pushing against her, in a place she’d never even dared to touch.  It felt strange against her.  Then he was pressing inside, and the pain startled her for a moment, making her stiffen up beneath him.

Edward sank deep inside her, swallowing her gasp of pain, before holding still.  He knew he needed to be gentle with her and give her time to adjust to his invasion. 

At first, Julia wanted to push him away from her, but she knew that wasn’t the right thing to do, so she lay beneath him waiting for him to finish.  When he didn’t move, she thought maybe he’d finished, and she let out a sigh of relief.  She’d done her duty, and it was over. 

When Edward felt her relax beneath him, he took that as his cue to continue.  He pulled out and pushed right back inside her, groaning at the pleasure the simple act brought him.

She wasn’t surprised when he pulled from her, but when he pushed back in, she jerked with shock.  It felt good, but…wasn’t he finished?  Soon she understood as he began moving in and out of her in a slow steady rhythm.  She felt something start to build inside her, uncertain of what it was, but she knew she liked it.  His movements brought her something she hadn’t expected at all.  Pleasure.

He kept moving steadily and after a few minutes, he suddenly jerked sharply inside her a few times before stilling, catching his weight on his elbows.  He groaned softly, pressing his forehead to hers, but saying nothing. 

Finally he moved to his side and gathered her close, pillowing her head against his shoulder.  She wanted to ask him if she’d done okay, and if he was pleased with her, but instead she lay silently, feeling slightly bruised in her most private place. 

He kissed the top of her head as his eyes drifted closed.  “Thank you,” he whispered softly.

She smiled in the darkness.  She must have done okay if he was thanking her.  She needed no other words.

Chapter Six

Julia woke the following morning to Edward’s lips pressing sweetly to hers and his hands stroking her body.  She opened her eyes to see that it was still dark, but he was purposefully arousing her.  She had thought they’d do this maybe once a month, and was startled that he wanted her again so quickly.  Was it normal to do this twice in one day?

She lay beneath him enjoying his ministrations, and when he had finished she snuggled against him, not ready to get up and start her day.  He kissed her one last time, and rolled from bed.  “We’re starting our day later than usual.”

She sighed.  “I guess that means I’m not allowed to spend the whole day in bed while you work?”

He laughed.  “I know you better than that.  You would be up doing something within a few minutes.  You’re not one to sit idle.”

“No, I’m not.  I just wish the day started a little later.”  She stifled a yawn as she sat up in the bed, holding the covers up under her arms.  He leaned down to kiss her before leaving.  “I’ll go do the milking.”

Once he’d left the room, she got up, putting her clothes on while groaning at how sore her body felt.  It wouldn’t be easy to do everything she wanted to do today if she was this sore.  She shook her head adamantly.  She’d do it all sore or not.

After breakfast, she made the dough for several loaves of bread and left them to rise while she hurried back to the berry patch, picking as many berries as her two pails could hold.  She took them home, rinsed them in the basin, and went back for more.  By noon, she’d made four trips and had her kitchen filled with the smells of berries, both jam and pie filling. 

She made a simple lunch of the bread she’d baked with some of her fresh jam on it and served it with milk.  He complimented her on her morning’s work and eyed the apples still leaning against the work table.  “Are you planning on peeling and making pie filling out of the apples today as well?”

She nodded, her eyes bright.  “I’m so excited to get this much done.”  She traced the tablecloth with one finger.  “Would it be a problem if I took the wagon into town and got some fabric and yarn sometime soon?  I have my own money, but I’ll need to have things to do this winter when I’m not canning and cleaning constantly.”

He seemed to think about it for a moment.  “I’d rather you didn’t drive that far by yourself.  I’ll come with you.”  He frowned.  “We have a mercantile a little closer in a town south of here.  I’ll take you there.”

“That’s fine.”  Something about what he’d said bothered her.  “Why can’t I go alone?”

His hand reached for hers across the table.  “Because I’ve come to care about you.  There are a lot of Indians in these parts, and I don’t want you to end up hurt or killed.”

Her eyes widened with understanding.  “Oh!  I thought you didn’t trust me.”

He shook his head.  “I absolutely trust you.  I don’t trust strangers you may meet on the road on the way there.”  He settled back in his chair and thought for a moment.  “Why don’t I take you tomorrow?  Can you have a picnic lunch for us?”

She nodded, her eyes filled with excitement.  She was thinking forward to Christmas and wanted to be able to make him some new shirts.  The ones he had were threadbare, and she liked the idea of making something special for him.  “Did you get me a chicken?” 

He nodded.  “It’s outside.  I’ll bring it in after I finish lunch.”  His eyes danced.  “What are you going to do with it?”

She smiled.  “Well, I’d thought about chicken and dumplings, but if we want a picnic for tomorrow, I’ll make some fried chicken and we’ll take some bread with butter and a pie for dessert.”

He patted his belly with a smile.  “You know I’m not going to fit through the door if you keep feeding me this way, right?”

She laughed.  “It’s time someone spoiled you.”  Her eyes met his, and she blushed as she thought about what had happened between them the night before.  Ever since she’d met him, she’d felt the need to take care of him.  She loved doing things for him.  Did that mean she was falling in love with him?  She frowned at the thought.  Could she fall in love with a man she’d just known for a few days?

He saw the emotions crossing her face and wondered at them, but didn’t say anything.  Once he finished eating, he pushed away from the table and kissed her softly before going out to get the chicken.  He’d already pulled the feathers off and had bled it out.  She carefully chopped it into pieces and coated it, setting it aside to cook when it was time.

She finished the jams and the pie filling, carefully labeling each jar, so she’d know what they were when she went to use them.  The apples were a bigger job than she’d thought.  She peeled them all carefully, putting the pieces she cut up into a bowl so she could make the pie filling and apple sauce.  She had wanted to do some dried apples as well, but there just weren’t enough apples to do everything.

She finished with the canning job with just enough time to cook supper.  As she fried the chicken, she thought about how loving and sweet her husband was.  The marital act had been nothing like her mother had described to her.  She’d enjoyed it a great deal.  She tried to picture Joseph, but his face just wasn’t there anymore.  She’d moved on.  She was in love with her husband.  But how did he feel about her?

The long drive the following day was pleasant, with her leaning against him as they drove, talking about the scenery and plans they each had.  He enjoyed listening to her chat and talk about the things she’d enjoy doing to the house.  She had plans to keep her occupied for the winter, which was a good thing.

Every day he worried a little less about her suffering from the melancholy that had affected Leah.  They’d been there for less than twenty-four hours when she’d first started worrying about how far from all their family they were.  She’d worried about everything from how she was going to not go crazy in the winter to what they would do for entertainment.  He looked down at his bride, and realized she was nothing like his first wife.  Yes, he’d loved Leah, but she’d not been suited for the prairie life.

Julia thrived there.  He could see in her face every day how much she enjoyed having freedom to do what she wanted.  She obviously enjoyed cooking and cleaning for him.  She was what he needed for a wife.  He sighed contentedly.  He’d thought love could only come slowly, when you’d known someone forever.  He could see now that sometimes it came in a blinding flash.  His little bride had in just days become his everything.

They bought the things they needed at the store in Levine and headed home.  They stopped just outside of town for the picnic that Julia had packed.  He pulled to the side of the road and helped her down, stopping next to a small pond.  She unpacked their lunch and served them both.  They both worked so hard on the farm that she was happy to have this interlude with her new husband when they didn’t have to worry about their responsibilities for a moment or two.

When they were finished eating, she expected him to be ready to get back to the farm right away so she was surprised when he stretched out with his back against a tall tree and gestured her over.

She walked over to sit beside him, and found herself lying on the blanket with her head in his lap.  He stroked her hair away from her face.  It had started out in a bun, as usual, but as they had driven, the wind had blown it all down.  “It was the best day of my life when you got off that train and married me,” he told her.

She looked up at him startled.  “But you married for love the first time.”

“Yes, I did, but the marriage didn’t end up being what I needed.”  He stared off into space trying to find the words to explain.  “She was unhappy back in New York.  She told me that moving somewhere where she wouldn’t have to work in a factory all day and have neighbors surrounding her all the time would make her happy.”  He shook his head.  “I wasn’t sure if it was what I wanted, but I wanted my wife to be happy, so we sold everything and moved west.  She was miserable as part of the wagon train.  I had thought to go further, but she couldn’t bear it.  So we stopped here, and she said she’d be happy.  We hadn’t been here for two days when she was broken-hearted about how isolated we were.  She cried all the time.  She tried to keep up with the house and cooking, but it was always ‘too much.’  She was never happy…about anything.  When she caught the fever, I think she was almost relieved to die.”

She stared up at him.  “That’s horrible.  I had no idea.”  She thought about the many things she wanted to do to make her house a home.  She’d wondered why some of the simple things that would make it better were missing.  Now she understood.  “I think my mother was like that after she fell ill.  Everything made her miserable.  It was a blessing when she finally passed on.”

“I knew you’d understand.  You seem to understand everything.  When you got off the train, I was so excited to see you, but I was also worried that you would be like her and hate it here.  Every job you’ve done, though, you’ve done with a smile.  You laugh with me.  Everything you do seems to be to make me happy.”  He struggled for the words he was looking for.  “You do make me happy.  I love you, Julia.”

She felt tears spring into her eyes at his words.  “I came here, not expecting to find love.  I thought I’d just be happy to cook and clean and be happy if I found a man who would treat me decently.  Instead, I got here and found a man who accepted me for who I am.  You appreciate everything I do, and you treat me like I’m someone precious to you.  I can’t believe how lucky I am to be here as your wife.  There’s nowhere I’d rather be, and no one I’d rather be married to.”  She sat up and faced him, leaning forward to brush her lips against his.  “I love you, too.”

Edward pulled her close, holding her tight.  “I hope you know it’s not the things you do for me that I love.  It’s you.  It’s your smile and your warmth.”

She nodded, burying her face against his neck.  “I thank God every day that it was your letter I read.  This is where I was meant to be.”

Epilogue

Julia and Edward had been married for over four months.  She’d begun to worry that maybe she would never have a child.  She knew it was premature for those worries to set in, but she wanted a houseful of children, and she wasn’t getting any younger.

It was only a week before Christmas, and she had decorated her home in the happiest way she knew.  She’d made tiny little decorations and had made preparations for a Christmas feast.  Edward had promised to hunt for a turkey so she could make it perfect.  They’d had new neighbors move in, a young couple just a mile away who had agreed to join them for the special day.

While she was fixing the bacon for breakfast that morning, she’d had to run outside to vomit up what little was still in her stomach from the night before.  She’d done some counting and realized her cycle was late.  So she decided to make something special for Edward for Christmas.  Something that would tell him that she was carrying the best possible gift of all.

She worked every time he left the house on her gift.  He would come back, and she would hide it under one of the cushions she’d made.  It was hard, because he stayed closer to the house in the heavy snows that came with a Kansas winter.

Finally, Christmas dawned, and she carefully hid the fact that she was losing her breakfast from him as she had every other day.

When they exchanged gifts, he’d had to go to the barn for hers.  Her eyes filled with tears as she saw what he’d made her.  A beautiful rocking chair, perfect for rocking the child she was now certain of.

She gave him the gifts she’d been working on for months first.  Five brand new shirts, new socks, and new gloves.  He’d been alone long enough that all his clothes were in disrepair. 

“Thank you.  This is the perfect gift,” he’d said sweeping her into his arms and kissing her. 

“There’s one more,” she’d said with an impish grin.  “I’ve just made it this week.”

He’d blinked.  “More?  But you’ve already given me so much!”  Truly just having her beside him and not spending another Christmas alone was gift enough for him.  Knowing he had her love was everything.  And she said there was more?

She found the present that she’d wrapped in brown paper and brought it to him, sitting in her new rocking chair while he sat in one of the kitchen chairs facing her.  He gave her a questioning look as he carefully untied the bow and spread the paper.  He pulled out a tiny pink dress. 

He stared at it for a minute, his eyes meeting hers with a questioning look. 

She shrugged.  “Well, I don’t have any way of knowing if it’s a boy or girl, but hopefully we’ll have at least one of each before we’re done,” she told him.

He blinked back tears.  “A baby?  Really?”

She nodded, tears filling her own eyes.  It had been all she could do not to tell him, but she’d wanted to save it for Christmas. Their first Christmas together had to be special. “Are you happy?”

He stood and pulled her to her feet, hugging her tightly.  “I couldn’t be happier.  There’s not a better gift you could have given me!”

She rested her head against his shoulder.  She’d been sure she’d be an old maid all her life.  In the past six months, she’d found the love of her life, moved to a new place, and now she carried a new life inside her.  The gift she’d been given of a new beginning was more than she’d ever hoped for.