Mail Order Matron (Brides of Beckham Book 9) (3 page)

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.