A Bride for Keeps (17 page)

“I like feisty women.”

She screamed and scrambled back against the wall. Would that she were dead.

Pain jolted through Julia’s arm sockets, and then she crashed into a wall. She swiped
the hair from her eyes so she could aim a kick at Ned.

But he wasn’t in front of her.

A maniacal growl filled the room, sending shivers down her spine.

Ned’s body thumped against the wall three feet away. Everett’s left hand twisted into
Ned’s plaid shirt. As soon as Ned opened his eyes, Everett’s right fist cracked squarely
on Ned’s jaw.

Ned stumbled back, hand cupping his chin. “Wait! I ain’t done nothing,” he growled
through clenched teeth.

“That’s not what I call nothing.” Everett’s fists doubled.

Ned put out his arms in a blocking position. “She fell.”

“That’s not what it looked like.” Everett’s face was redder than a tomato.

“Your woman made me some tea and fell. Knocked me over.” Ned straightened and glared
at her. “Tell him.”

He was expecting her to lie for him! She clenched her hands in the fabric of her skirt.
“That’s a lie!”

Ned spat at her.

Another of Everett’s jabs found a home in Ned’s stomach.

She wanted to cry, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the angry scuffle. Had
prayer actually worked? Had God sent Everett to her?

Ned swore and scrambled off the floor. He held out his hands and circled to the door,
facing Everett as he shuffled. “My word against hers.”

Everett sent a punch into Ned’s cheek, sending him flying into the stove. “I take
her word.” He jerked Ned up by his shirt and threw him against the wall. “And as for
your words, I never want you to speak to her again. You leave and don’t ever come
back.”

Ned held out his hands. “Fine,” he snarled.

“If we meet again,” Everett said as he straightened, “you walk away. If you can’t
leave, you go to the furthest corner from my wife and you stay there.”

“You can’t tell me where I can and can’t be.”

Everett crossed the room and hoisted him against the splintery wall. “If I ever see
you on my property again, it’s a bullet in your gut.”

Ned winced as spit hit him in the eye.

“I won’t be letting you run off like I’m doing now. In town, if you so much as look
at her too close, I’ll pummel you.” Everett shoved Ned toward the door.

Ned glanced hatefully at her before slamming the door behind him. The upper leather
hinge gave way.

Before the door stopped swinging, Everett was on his knees beside her. He grabbed
her shoulders. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. The pressure behind her eyes and forehead wanted to burst through
her nose. She covered her eyes with both of her hands, shielding the tears from his
sight. Hurt? Not on the outside, but the inside felt like one big bruise. Even with
Ned gone, she felt like running, running and not stopping. Running with no aim. For
where would she go? No place was safe.

Or was she in the right place? Would Everett be able to protect her every time? Or
if she let him into her heart, would he hurt her too?

She began to shiver, then the emotions she’d restrained for months broke, and a dry
heave preceded a deluge of tears. She rocked and tried to stop the rush of tears with
the palms of her hands.

He gently tugged at her wrists. “Shhh. It’s all right.”

Resisting his pull, she kept her hands where they were. She didn’t want to deal with
anything right now. She wanted to stay in the dark.

Everett continued to shush her. He pushed hair behind her ear. Both of his hands moved
to turn her jaw to the side. “The lout. He scratched your face good.”

Her sobs stopped, and she gritted her teeth. Her face! Who cared about anything else
as long as her beauty was intact to exploit, to desire, to take? She shot the evil
look she’d given Ned at Everett.

He sat back and cocked his head.

“I’m sure my face is just fine. I make sure to keep it protected at all times. Don’t
want to have anything happen to my face! Leave me alone.” She scrambled to her feet
and pushed through the door. With a quick check to make sure Ned’s wagon was nowhere
in sight, she ran into the thicket.

———

“Julia! Julia, stop. Please!”

When she disappeared into the brush, Everett swallowed hard. His heart cramped in
his chest.

Should he run after her? It seemed she didn’t want him, and all his body wanted to
do was collapse. Incredible amounts of energy had kicked in as soon as he’d walked
around the Parkers’ wagon and saw Ned and Julia fall to the floor through his open
doorway. He’d been a fool to let the man off so easily the last time he was here.
Maybe he’d been a fool to let him walk now. He kicked the railing and winced at the
pain. Gripping a wooden post, he stared through the distant foliage.

Even if the scratch on her face was as deep as it looked, why’d she run from his protective
reach with Ned barely out of the yard? He didn’t know what made the woman tick. He’d
studied every curve and plane that filled out her dress, every dimple and freckle
on her face. Asked her every question he could think of, but he still didn’t know
her, not at all.

He slumped against the beam. He’d prided himself on caring for every woman the same
regardless of her physical features. But he probably understood Helga better than
his own wife.

Sitting on the railing, he took slow breaths to settle the rattling in his chest.
His fingers raked into his hair until they caught in the gnarled mess, his forehead
cradled in the palms of his hands. He closed his eyes and searched his soul.

He wanted a real marriage. Not a convenient one. Not a fake one. Not one governed
like master and slave. But one like his parents had. When his dad had stepped in the
door after a long day’s work, the first person he’d greeted was his mother. Not because
his father forced himself to do so or was stuck in a routine, but because that was
all he wanted to do.

And that’s what Everett wanted too. To care for her, protect her, love her. To know
she spent the day waiting to step back into his arms.

He had to shuck his restraint and lay himself open. She
might stomp on his heart and crush him into tiny bits, but would he not deserve it
for how he’d treated her?

He pushed himself off the post and grabbed his hat off the porch before walking toward
the woods. A bit of blue through the scrub brush down by the pond broke through the
green and brown. His heart beat low and hard as he threaded his way through the thicket.

He’d start slow. But he would woo his wife. No matter what personality lay behind
the veneer of beauty, she was the only wife he had. And that made her worth it.

Everett’s footfalls sounded behind her. She wiped her tears with her sleeve, grabbed
a rock, and hurled it into the pond. Why must he bother her? She’d been bothered enough
today, bothered enough for a lifetime.

Not even glancing toward him, she found another rock close to where she sat and chucked
it into the water. Everett’s knees cracked as he settled in the grass beside her.
As long as he didn’t touch her, she’d endure his presence.

The frogs hidden in the grasses along the banks chirped in rhythmic pulses. Bubbles
popped on the water’s surface where a turtle’s nose poked into the air. She hugged
her knees and leaned against the tree, waiting for him to speak. Nothing he could
say could unclench her stomach or make her gooseflesh go away.

The frogs croaked on.

Keeping her head down, she looked at the ground next to him. His hand lay flat on
the earth inches from her skirt. A knot of purple and blue puffed his top knuckles.
She blinked back tears at the sight of his bruises. He’d saved her. No
matter what happened, she’d always be thankful he’d rescued her. Though she wanted
to be alone, a little part of her was glad he was there.

“I’m sorry I was so upset back there.” She peeked at him from under her eyelashes.
His eyes were ready the second hers found his. “I’m very grateful you came and saved
me from . . . from . . .” Her mind’s eye faded into gray. A good thing—otherwise she’d
too easily summon up a picture of her fate if Everett hadn’t arrived.

“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice was hushed, barely discernible above the
insect humming.

She shrugged. Yes, she wanted to talk, but not to him. Not even to Rachel. Not to
anyone she knew. What would they think of her?

The same as Ned.

Everett’s hand inched toward hers, but she tucked her fingers under her skirt. He
took his hand back. “I won’t let him come onto the property anymore. He didn’t . . .
Did he do anything I should—”

“No.” Her voice cracked. But he would have. How could she have endured another man
forcing her to fulfill his pleasure? The thought of suffering through it again made
her want to curl up so tight she’d vanish. “Ned didn’t anyway . . .”

Everett’s face grew a bit older, the question on his face unmistakable. “If you don’t
want to talk, how about you lean against me instead of that tree? At least let me
help you feel a bit more comfortable.”

She searched his face. Nothing but kindness and sympathy. She wanted comfort, but
the tree would suffice. A man’s arms—any man’s arms right now—would not feel pleasant.
She couldn’t look at him anymore.

Like Ned said, Everett thought she didn’t belong on the prairie, that she needed coddling.
Life here couldn’t break her—she’d prove it. No more tears, no more wasting time.
Too soon harvest would come and then winter.

She stood and looked down at him. “I’ll prove myself worthy of the trouble you’ve
taken to save me.”

He reached out and tugged on her skirt. “Please sit, Julia.”

“There’s no time to sit. I’ve got chores.” The longer she remained here idle, the
more likely she’d crumble in front of him.

He squinted at her.

She turned toward home and put speed into her feet.

Everett called to her, his voice rushing closer each second. “Wait.”

She kept walking, but shortly his warm hand encircled her upper arm.

“There’s no reason to rush. You’ve just been through something awful. We could use
a day of rest.”

“Chickens need tending.” She took another step toward the house, pulling against his
grasp.

He shook his head and took her other arm. “Then I’ll see to them.”

“Dinner needs fixed.” The conflicting desires to flee his embrace and to bury herself
there fought within her. Her fists tensed into tiny balls. No, she needed to be left
alone.

“I lived on canned beans and hardtack before you came. I can come up with something.”
A small smile graced his lips.

The concern in his eyes, however, begged her to succumb. But she didn’t want to be
held. Ned and the men back home had only wanted her body. Theodore had gotten it.
The thought of more touching made her shiver.

She pulled her arms from his hands. An embrace was not what she needed.

Crying mixed with the sound of the grease popping in the skillet. Julia took the pan
off the stove and set it on a trivet. Poking her head out the door, she listened.
Yes, crying. She glanced to the far field, where Everett had begun weeding and dispatching
worms once they’d returned from the pond. He shuffled down rows at an even pace, flicking
his hands back and forth, gathering the pests in a bucket for the chickens. She was
thankful he hadn’t followed her inside and insisted she answer more questions.

Her muscles tensed. Surely some crying man wasn’t out there waiting to pounce on her.
On the other side of the barn, a movement caught her attention. A thick-hipped woman
hobbled in the shadows, her right leg stiff and her hair a tangled mess.

“Helga?” Her breath wedged in her throat as she raced to the woman’s side.

Blood oozed from Helga’s mouth. “I’m sorry, but you said I may come without asking.”

Julia threaded her arm underneath Helga’s and braced the woman, her tiny body acting
like a human crutch. “Such nonsense. Don’t apologize.”

Every other step, Helga sucked in air. How had she gotten hurt? Could Ned have hurt
this sweet woman because of her? She was pretty sure she knew the answer, but she
held her tongue. It took all of her strength to keep Helga upright as she hobbled
along.

She helped Helga to the bed, but the woman resisted. “No, your quilt will be dirty.”

Julia gave her a gentle push. “Sit.” She grabbed the pallet blankets and shoved them
behind her neighbor so she could
recline, then pulled the kitchen chair over to the bedside, the chair legs thunking
against the planks. “What happened?” The gash next to the woman’s mouth kept pulling
Julia’s attention to the blood dried there. She doubted that was the only injury the
woman had. “What hurts?”

The lines around Helga’s eyes grew pronounced as the woman squinted. A few moments
later, she let out a long stream of air. “Lots of places.”

Not being able to stand the sight of blood on the woman’s face, Julia patted her shoulder.
“I’m getting some water.”

She filled the bucket and grabbed the dipper from the well. After helping Helga take
a few sips, she wetted a cloth and wiped Helga’s mouth. She tried to catch the woman’s
gaze, but she kept her eyes closed. How could Ned wreak so much evil in one day?

Finally, Helga looked at her, the pain evident in the funny way one eyelid drooped
and the other spasmed. “Can I have cloth? My hands are dirty. And my knee—” She touched
the bump under her dress and hissed. “I need clean it.”

Wringing out the cloth, Julia passed it into the woman’s filthy hands and grabbed
another before pushing back the woman’s skirts. A large abrasion marred her knee and
shin. With as little pressure as possible, she cleaned the wound, but Helga still
tensed. She examined her neighbor’s round face. “Ned did this to you?”

“No.” She let out something that sounded like a chuckle. “That he didn’t do. I must
need add pain to myself, so I trip on tree root.”

“So Ned didn’t hurt you?” Helga’s muscles tightened when she brushed more grit from
the cut. No one could get that many scratches and bruises by tripping on a root.

The line of Helga’s mouth grew thinner and wider. “That
is not what I say. Just my knee. I do that myself.” She pushed hair back from her
face, uncovering a greenish ring around one eye.

“What did he do?” Similar to what she’d endured at his hands that morning, no doubt.

“Not much more than other times.” She leaned against the blankets and wrung the limp
cloth in her hands. “But more anger this time. Enough I was afraid he would not stop,
so I run out the door when he grab something.”

Julia sat in the chair and held Helga’s hand in both of hers. Ned’s anger was surely
because of her. She was responsible. If only she’d never come to Kansas . . .

Helga’s head rolled to the side. “He said things about you—”

“I don’t want to hear them. Don’t tell me.” She didn’t mean to snap, so she calmed
her voice. “But do tell me where you hurt.”

Helga shrugged and grimaced. “My face, my knee, and my head. He pulled hair. And then
my arm.”

“Did he say why he hit you?”

“No,” she whispered. “But often he does not tell me reason.”

“Helga . . . your husband was here earlier. He, uh, made some advances toward me,
and Everett punched him a few times. I’m so sorry he went home to you the way he did.”
She’d considered her looks to be a problem for herself, but now they caused problems
for others. “It’s my fault.”

Helga’s glittering eyes snapped open wide. “No. He is to blame for what he does. Today
he had more anger, but today is not the first day he hit me.”

“He has no right.”

Helga smiled lazily. “He would not say that.”

“We need to get you away.”

“I am away. I am here.”

“But you can’t go back to Ned.”

A sigh escaped her lips. “Yes. I think that, but I don’t know how I cannot. I have
only one place to go, but no way to get there. The train is too much money. Ned doesn’t
have enough for me to take. But I’ve wanted to go to my sister for so long.”

“Then we’ll get you there.”

“I wish that I never married Ned. But it is my fault, and I should live with my punishment.”

“You could not have done anything that merits such treatment.”

“It is not what I done, but what I did not do. You did right marrying Everett. And
you are more beautiful and young than me, so that should make him very happy. He is
a man who deserves good wife.”

Julia frowned. How hard had Helga hit her head? She wasn’t making sense. “What does
my being—”

The loose door thumped against the wall. “Julia, we need to talk—” Everett’s mouth
dropped open, and he strode straight to Helga. “Are you all right?” He gently pushed
back a swath of bloody matted hair from her forehead. Though he did it slowly, Helga
winced.

“She’s got scrapes and bruises. Ned took his anger out on her.”

“Why, that low-down dirty—” Everett clamped his mouth.

“We can’t let her go back.” Julia clasped his upper arm.

He placed his hand over hers and turned to Helga. “That’s right. You’ll stay here
until we figure this out.”

“Yes, stay.” A maternal fierceness low in her stomach rose to invade her chest. Helga
had to be older than Everett, but
her helplessness reminded her of little Emma Stanton. “And we’ll get you back to your
sister.”

Helga shook her head. “I check railroad schedules. Second class is seventy-five dollars.
I can sleep in my seat, but need food too. Can’t get so much money. Ned has twenty
dollars only.”

Julia looked at Everett. Should she ask him if what was left in her purse should be
used to help them through the winter? She’d kept it hidden in case she needed to get
away. But would he agree to giving Helga so much cash? “I have a hundred and two dollars
I’ve kept since I arrived. . . .”

———

She was worried about him disagreeing with giving Helga her savings. Everett could
see it in the way she bit her lip, kept her gaze from meeting his, and tucked her
head in. But hers was the perfect solution. He had enough to cover Helga’s passage,
but wiping out his savings needed for the winter if the harvest failed was not smart.

A hundred dollars was a lot of money, and she looked guilty at the mention of it.

“Please let me give it to her.” Julia’s eyes glistened.

If Helga wanted to abandon her monster of a husband, he’d help any way that he could,
but if Julia wanted to leave later, how would she afford it? He didn’t want her to
go, but he didn’t want her to stay if she didn’t want him. He didn’t like either option,
but he wanted her to be happy. If she could give such a large sum to a neighbor, he
could save enough to purchase Julia a ticket to return east someday if she ever wanted
to go. He prayed he would never have to watch her leave on the train that had brought
her to him.

He swallowed and nodded.

Julia’s attention returned to Helga. She patted her hand.
“You won’t be able to eat well, but we could send you with food.”

Tears pooled and cascaded over onto Helga’s cheeks, which were turning a strange shade
of yellow. Everett’s hands clenched. He should march over to the Parkers’ place right
now and make Ned’s face match hers.

“I can’t,” Helga whispered.

Julia placed a hand on each of her shoulders and spoke when Helga looked up at her.
“You will and you must. How long have you wanted to return to your family?”

Everett could barely hear her say, “Almost a year.”

“Then it’s my gift to you.” Julia shook her head. She glanced over at him. “I mean
our
gift to you.” Her eyes had never looked so soft and unguarded before. Was it simply
concern, or something more?