A Bride for Keeps (13 page)

Julia sat beside Rachel in the rocker and unwrapped the knitting needles she’d brought
with her. Feeling watched, she looked up.

Everett was staring at her with the most peculiar look on his face, but then grabbed
a discarded wooden piece off the table and tried to spin the misshapen piece like
a top. “So glad to find you home. Need any choring help this afternoon?”

Dex leaned over to spit before answering. “Naw, I’m inside for a while. Broke the
ax handle.” He brandished his carved stick of wood. “Nothing left to do with the handle
but whittle. Rachel wants me to carve a whistle while I’m at it.”

“Ambrose’s eleventh birthday’s tomorrow,” Rachel said.

Everett grabbed a different chunk of wood. “You using this piece for the whistle?”

Dex nodded.

“I’ll help you start. What’s the plan?”

The men conversed about dimensions and angles for cutting. Julia took a deep breath
and released it. Just because Everett remained inside didn’t mean she couldn’t talk.
If she didn’t converse with someone, she might explode. But maybe she could get Rachel
to do most of the talking. “So how far along are you?”

“Five and a half months—not too much longer to go.”

A few times, the men’s laughter interrupted their conversation. Throughout the next
hour, she often stopped to stare at Everett as he rocked in his chair with laughter
or teased Dex or the boys. He even chucked wood pieces at
John, who attempted to catch them by contorting in crazy positions.

Everett stood and hiked his knee onto a bench, crossing his arms below the crook of
his leg, a hand wiggling on either side of his knee. “Put your arms like this, John.
I’ll throw two at a time.”

Upon John’s success at catching the wildly thrown sticks, the men roared in approval.

“Hush, boys. You’ll wake up Emma.” Rachel wagged her finger at them, and they at least
tried to keep it down.

Julia fidgeted in her chair. This was not the Everett she knew. He had not stopped
smiling for the last twenty minutes. The camaraderie between him and the children
and Dex sliced at her. He had an enjoyable personality. Just not one he wished to
share with her, apparently.

She was nothing more than an intruder. The Stantons had been friends with Everett
for years, and their easy company revealed she didn’t yet belong. He’d reiterated
many times the past few weeks how summer work was too important to put aside for things
like sleep and food, yet he didn’t seem a bit on edge about spending hours here wasting
time. Hanging her head, she tried to concentrate on her stitch count.

“Glad to see him act like his old self.” Rachel’s soft voice cut into her tally. “I
knew it wouldn’t take him long to warm to you. Thought his tongue had froze off right
after your wedding. In a stupor over your beauty and his good fortune, I suppose.
Never seen him act like that.” Rachel leaned over to catch a wayward spool of thread.
Her constricted voice floated up from between the chairs. “Not even around my sister.”
She settled back into her seat and waved her needle. “Though she’s quite pretty, Patricia
can’t hold a candle to you. I felt terrible for him when she left him for Duncan,
but Everett’ll make you a better husband than Duncan has Patricia. I can read between
the lines of my sister’s letters. He’s a scoundrel.”

Patricia? Everett had been courting Rachel’s sister? Scrambling through her mind,
Julia envisioned the extra trunk’s engraved latch. No
P
in the monogram. He’d never said a thing about the items from the trunk she’d spread
throughout the room. Maybe the reason he remained distant lay in this new information.

Pining for a lost love, perhaps? Seems he had two women to choose from.

A repressed sob reached into her throat, threatening to strangle her. She stood, and
the beginnings of an infant’s cap in her lap dropped to the floor.

Rachel looked at her, puzzled. “Are you all right, Julia?”

“I . . . I ought to, need to, uh . . . go outside.”

Rachel stood and caught her shoulder. “By all means, go. But you’d tell me if you
were in pain, right? If something’s wrong?”

If only she could tell her. She moved her head with an ambivalent shake before turning
to escape out of doors.

Rachel followed her onto the porch. “Julia?”

Afraid Rachel would pry into emotions she didn’t understand, she sucked in air and
put on a cheery face, hoping to mask the tears about to spill over. “Just need to,
you know . . .”

When Rachel nodded, she headed in the direction of the privy and once out of sight,
tramped into the woods quite a distance before letting go. The onset of tears heightened
the stabbing pain behind her eyes, yet she sobbed all the more. She was clearly overreacting.
She wasn’t supposed to care what Everett had done, who he’d known. Of course
something terrible in his past had pushed him into a marriage of convenience—just
like her. But why did it bother her that he’d most likely loved two women when she’d
already suspected he’d most likely been jilted by one?

She swiped at the nonsensical tears. She shouldn’t care. Why did it matter? She didn’t
want to be his wife in the traditional sense.

It rankled her that he’d had the capacity to love more than one woman, that he loved
the entire Stanton family—but didn’t care for her, not even a smidgen. No one had
ever loved her, and now, no one ever would.

When the tears ceased, she leaned her head against the mossy trunk of a nearby tree
and fixed her eyes on a small flock of songbirds pecking near a puddle.

Everett wasn’t thrilled with her, but she was no stranger to that. Father had never
been pleased with her. And it turned out Theodore had never been enthralled with her
either, just the business opportunity she represented . . . and just like every other
man she’d met, he considered her nothing more than a delicate ornament to crush if
it suited his fancy.

She closed her eyes. She’d wished many times to be more than an attractive face useful
for conning her father’s customers into purchasing something they didn’t need, and
she’d finally gotten her wish. Her husband cared nothing for her looks.

But he also cared nothing for her. Might never care. She was competing with women
in his past she didn’t even know.

There had to be a bright side to this.

She had the opportunity now to make a man who hadn’t fallen for her physical charms
to think well of her. She’d always wanted to be respected for the woman she was on
the inside.

Yes, this was the good of it. She would work so hard, she’d make him proud. If all
he did was see that her beauty was only one of many good things about her, she’d be
happy.

Her mouth grew dry and new tears pressed on the back of her eyes. That was a lie.
What she really wanted was to make the Everett back in the Stantons’ cabin like her.
Maybe even something more. The thought terrified her, but she couldn’t deny that the
desire toyed with her heart. Could she really end her days content, knowing that no
man had ever truly loved her? The image of Everett cutting wood shirtless swam unbidden
before her. Could she truly allow a man to love her like a man loved a woman?

No. A friendship like the one he enjoyed with the Stantons was a worthy enough goal.
And a lot less scary.

Whimpering in the woods wouldn’t help. She dried her tears and threaded her way back
to the Stantons’ cabin. Their door opened, and Everett’s lithe form bounced down the
stairs. Whistling, he headed to the barn and threw open the whitewashed door. Children’s
laughter rolled out of the dark interior. The kittens were probably in the hayloft.
At least she’d have Rachel to herself now.

Pulling the front door open, she envied the sound hinges. Perhaps she could figure
out how to fix the hinge at home herself. Inside, Dex was standing in front of Rachel,
his hands resting on the arms of her chair, their lips only a breath apart.

Dex glanced in her direction, a shaft of sunlight illuminating his face.

“I’m so sorry.” Her face flamed. “I’ll just step back out.”

“Not a problem, Julia. I was just leaving.” Dex turned back to his wife. “But I needed
something before I left.” He lowered his lips to Rachel’s.

Julia threw her glance to the floor. After the sound of their
kiss ended, she couldn’t help but peek. Dex cupped the back of Rachel’s head and kissed
her hairline. “Love you, Rach.”

A lovely blush settled upon Rachel’s cheeks, and Dex gave her a tender look before
straightening.

Dex winked at Julia and sidestepped her for the door.

Rachel coughed. “Sorry for that.”

“No reason to be sorry.” At least one woman she knew could enjoy kisses. If only she
could look forward to them without fear.

Julia bit her lip. She would not cry a second time today.

Several days later Everett straddled the last beam of his new cabin’s roof.

“I can stay and help get the rest up,” Dex called up from below in what would one
day be the main bedroom. But would it forever remain just his bedroom? Everett almost
didn’t want to finish the house since separation was exactly how Julia wanted things.

“If you’re sure the boss won’t mind.”

“She’s rather anxious for this to get done so she can have my slave labor back. She
won’t mind—too much.” Dex sidled over to the fence. “If we work hard enough, I think
we can have the whole roof on by tonight.”

Everett dropped down out of the rafters and joined Dex, taking the canteen he offered
and pouring the lukewarm water over his head before taking a swig. “As long as you
leave well before nightfall.”

“The moon will be bright enough to keep my team on the path.”

The moon was visible even now, a chipped silver dish in the bright blue sky, but the
flicker of Julia’s bright green skirts
swimming in his peripheral vision distracted him. He rubbed the bruise on his left
hand and forced himself to stare at the grasses bending in the breeze in front of
him. He’d missed the roofing nails one too many times, his purpled hand testifying
to how many times Julia’s green skirts had stolen his attention today.

“Let’s eat and get back to it then.” He grabbed a biscuit for each hand from the plate
Julia had set on the crate near the well and returned to the fence, hopped onto the
other side, and slid down the post. She couldn’t steal his attention from his food
if he couldn’t see her. Dex brought the plate over, but stayed on the other side.

The biscuits were flaky and buttery, and he wanted another, but he couldn’t take Dex’s.
“Toss me an apple if you would.”

Dex ignored him and turned to scratch his back against the fence post, facing the
cabin.

Did he have to get up and get the apple himself? Everett turned and noted Dex’s frown,
a frown that scrunched his whole face. Everett followed the man’s gaze to the old
shack’s roof, where Julia was traipsing atop the peak. He worked at keeping his hands
in his pockets. How did she get up there?

Dex pointed. “What’s she doing?”

“Don’t know. I didn’t ask her to do anything up there.”

“What did you ask her to do?”

“Nothing.”

“What do you want her to do?”

What did he want? She didn’t want to know what he wanted. It was enough she was there.
Or at least it should have been enough. He stood and snatched up an apple and tore
a bite out of it. “I let her do whatever she wants.”

Dex’s eyebrows lowered. “Do you ever talk to her?”

He turned to look at him. What was he getting at?

Dex coughed. “I saw Ned yesterday. He came by my place.”

Just the mention of that man sent a wave of heat through his chest.

“He had Helga with him, poor woman.”

He nodded. No one would argue with Dex there.

“He takes her for granted, doesn’t speak to her unless he wants something.” Dex shifted.
“But she works hard. Long and hard, trying to do anything that will please him. But
it won’t do any good.” Dex picked a blade of long grass next to the fence post and
snapped it off. “He’s a sorry old cuss. Treats her like she’s less than human. He
doesn’t share a life with her—he simply shares his space with her.”

True. But talking about it wouldn’t change anything. What could they do for Helga?
Ned wasn’t the kind of guy to take unsolicited advice.

Dex turned to face him. “She might do something as dangerous as climb onto a rooftop.
And Ned wouldn’t care. Just as long as she didn’t bother him.”

He frowned and kept his vision fixed on Julia fiddling with the roof’s shingles.

“But he’s got a beautiful wife. Not beautiful like yours, mind you, but like Julia,
beautiful on the inside. Proverbs says ‘Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing.’
But sometimes I have to wonder why God casts His pearls before swine. Sometimes.”

Everett worked his lips apart in order to speak. “Are you saying I’m no better than
Ned?”

Dex leaned over slowly and spit over the fence. “What I’m saying is, from what I’ve
seen, nothing about your behavior toward your wife looks any different than Ned’s
behavior to his. In fact, I’ve seen you treat Helga better than Julia.”

Every muscle in Everett’s body turned to stone.

Dex shook his head. “Never thought I’d say I felt sorry for one of the most beautiful
women I’ve ever seen.”

Everett hung his head. His stomach felt like lead.

“Now, I know you. And I don’t want to believe what I’m seeing is a true reflection
of your character. But if it is, I hope you have enough brains to change.” Dex threw
the strap of the canteen over his shoulder and pushed himself off the fence post.
“Now, I can finish helping with the roof if you like, or I can leave. But it had to
be said.”

Everett wanted to punch Dex in the nose and tell him he had it wrong. But Dex didn’t
have it wrong. He’d known he was being a blockhead, but to be called on it smarted.
He stifled his desire to snap at his friend. His friend had said nothing amiss. “We’ll
work.”

Dex nodded and headed back to the barn.

God, how do I start something I know is going to hurt me even more if I fail?

Everett walked slowly behind Dex’s wagon. He needed to walk a long, long way, sit
down in the middle of nowhere, and think and even make himself pray a little. Before
too long, his friend drove over the ridge and disappeared just like the sun, and Everett
kept on walking until the path to the far creek materialized. He fought through the
bluestem and sat on a mound of grass next to the muddy bank so he could dip his hand’s
purpled flesh into the cool moving waters. The back of his hand throbbed under the
big bruise growing across his knuckles.

Dex’s lecture had proven just as distracting as Julia waltzing around the farmyard,
and he’d hit himself more times than someone with a brain and pain perception should
have been
capable. He’d been surrounded by the cacophony of hammer versus nail for the rest
of the afternoon, but all he’d heard was Dex’s words over and over with each whack.

“I have to wonder why God casts His pearls before swine.”

A few minnows nibbled his swollen hand. He swished them off, lay back, and stared
at the stars and bright moon.

Was he truly no better than Ned? He’d never laid a finger on Julia. One day, his attraction
to the woman under his roof would wane and he could be her friend. Who was he kidding?
Why had he ever promised that? He’d only grow crankier and more malcontent until one
day he did indeed turn into Ned.

He stared at the silver rippling on the pond surface while crickets sang him a monotonous
lullaby, but he couldn’t succumb to their call. Even if his mind hadn’t been all jumbled,
he wouldn’t want to worry Julia by not returning until dawn. Not that she should worry
about a fool like him.

He was wrong to be running from her still. If he stayed away from her, he’d have no
chance at winning her, which he couldn’t do alone on a creek bank. He pushed himself
off the ground with his bad hand and flinched. Would she still be awake? The moon’s
travel indicated an hour or two worth of movement. He hadn’t meant to stay out so
long.

At home, he inched open the shack’s door and saw a lamp burning low on the stump next
to the bedstead. He let his eyes adjust, waiting for her to barrage him with questions,
but soon he heard sleeping sounds. She lay across the bed, fully dressed, one stockinged
foot dangling off the side. How was she handling the lack of company? Did she even
miss him?

He stifled a groan as he lowered himself into a chair to pull off his boots. After
donning his nightshirt, he crossed over to turn off the lamp. He stumbled over her
dangling foot,
wrenching her leg back. He tensed, but she only groaned, curled up, and rolled over.

Surely he’d hurt her. Yet her breathing quickly returned to the sound of restful slumber.
He bent over and looked into her face. Not restful. Her face seemed pinched and worried.
He brushed hair off her furrowed brow. Not even an eyelid fluttered.

He sat beside her on the mattress, careful not to sit on any of her hair. Even with
circles under her eyes, she was gorgeous.

Her tiny hand lay relaxed, poking out from under the blanket. Cracked skin around
her nails and a huge gash on her hand gave him pause. She worked for no thanks. Not
even liniment for the open sore on her hand. He didn’t know she had need of it, and
the bottle probably sat in the barn where he’d last used it, where she wouldn’t know
to look.

In an attempt not to hurt himself, he’d hurt someone far more precious.

Precious.

That word caught him off guard.

If she stayed only one more day, she was precious. If not to him, then most certainly
to God. But as his wife, that’s how he should be viewing her anyway. What had Dex
said? Something like
He who finds a wife finds a good thing.

Everett pulled his Bible off the stump next to the bed and thumbed through Proverbs
until he found the verse:
Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing, and obtaineth favour of the Lord.

“I obtained your favor,” he whispered. The circles under her eyes haunted him. “And
squandered it.”

Julia moaned in her sleep.

No, he’d ground it into the dirt.

His throat constricted as he looked at her in the flickering
light. How could he ever face anyone who’d seen how he’d treated her? Did they talk
about him around their dinner tables, how he cared for his animals with more love
than the woman who shared his home?

Careful not to wake her, Everett slid his fingers beneath her own and caressed the
rough skin that had been silky-white and smooth the day they’d met. Despite being
left to fend for herself in a land and occupation foreign to her, she’d worked without
complaint. And he’d watched her struggle and hadn’t had the decency to come alongside
her to teach, help, or encourage. He was a rat.

Would you forgive me, Lord? I’m not sure she should.

He put the Bible on the table and fingered the dark hair framing her pale face. He
could feel his pulse thudding in his throat.

I’m afraid to feel, Lord.

How I’ve treated her . . . Even if this is a temporary blessing and she leaves tomorrow,
I should treat her better. I know that. I’ve known that. I’ve allowed my pride to
turn me into a scoundrel and keep me from befriending her. Just because Patricia married
a stranger the morning I was going to officially propose doesn’t mean Julia is going
to run away with another man the minute I start being nice to her. Nothing the other
women did to hurt me means Julia will follow their footsteps.

The memory of Miss Gooding arriving after her untimely death stopped his breath.
Please, Lord, don’t let Julia die before I make this right.

His heart felt as bruised as his hand. He wanted her to stay. More than he had ever
wanted anything in his life. More than even making his homestead a success.

Everett blew out the lamp’s flame, crossed over to his pallet,
and settled under the covers. Though Julia was only a black silhouette, he continued
to watch her.

If she weren’t beautiful, I’d still want her to stay. She’s what I need.

He sighed. He’d probably ruined any chance he had with her, but his desires and God’s
commands pushed him to give in and do as he ought. His brain wouldn’t let him sleep,
as if allowing him to do so would erase this revelation.

But there would be no forgetting—he’d start tomorrow. No matter how much being rejected
by his wife might hurt, he couldn’t remain a coward forever.

Everett woke before Julia. The early morning sun only highlighted the creased lines
of exhaustion surrounding her eyes. He slipped out of the house and headed to the
barn to milk the cow before the sun took over the sky.