The Stepmother: An Everland Ever After Tale (4 page)

BOOK: The Stepmother: An Everland Ever After Tale
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“No!” He pushed himself away from the table and stood a little too quickly. “No.” He repeated, softer, cuddling the little girl against him. “Zelle wouldn’t…wouldn’t like that.” He swallowed, and looked away from Meri. “I’ll stay here with her.”

“Of course.” Why did her voice sound so weak to her ears?

“But…we’ve got to go get some supplies. Last time I was at the post, someone mentioned there was a big storm coming through soon.” He began to pace with his daughter. “I figure that you could stay here until that’s passed. The stage won’t come near this place until next week, probably.”

“I can pay you.” She wasn’t sure why she blurted it, other than trying to find a way to ignore the sudden tightness in her stomach.

He shrugged, and circled the table twice as Zelle mewled pitifully. “Don’t worry about it. If you can make more of those biscuits, I’ll consider us even.”

It was obvious that they’d been surviving on the basest of meals since his wife had passed away, but her biscuits weren’t
that
good, were they? Still, she nodded, and ventured a smile. “Deal.”

He smiled in return—a quick flash of white among the darkness of his beard—and the tightness in her belly intensified. Was she coming down with an illness? How else to explain why the sight of his smile, one front tooth badly chipped, could make her so lightheaded?

She was staying, for another few days at least. She had another few days to discover more about this mysterious not-quite-fiancé of hers. Another day to find out why he made her heart beat faster and her cheeks warm, when he obviously was nothing like what she wanted in a husband.

Was he?

“I think, under the circumstances, Doctor Carpenter, that you should call me Meri.”

He’d stopped pacing, at the furthest end of the cabin from her, and eyed her warily. She couldn’t shake the feeling that sometimes he was the panther, and sometimes the prey. Like he wasn’t sure what to expect from her. But then he nodded, hesitantly. “Then call me Jack, okay? Since you’re going to be a houseguest.”

A houseguest? Meri bit her lip, and began tidying up the kitchen. She’d come here to be his wife. And even now, a part of her still wanted that role. Was it that she just wanted to be a wife, or that she wanted to be
his
wife? She needed more time to determine her feelings about him, and then she could start to work on him.

 

 

 

CHAPTER THREE

 

 

Maybe he should’ve dragged the sick baby into town that morning, because it turned out that the threatened storm hit that afternoon, and they didn’t have a chance, after all. He worried that they weren’t going to have enough food…but then, he always worried about that. It was a hold-over from Sing Sing, when there
hadn’t
been enough food. At least here there were no responsibilities, beyond hunkering down and making sure Zelle’s unexplained fever didn’t increase.

He tried to remember what Osbourne had said about fevers. It hadn’t mattered at the time, because there wasn’t any medicine in the cells, beyond what the charities brought. Cold water baths and prayer was all he could offer, and Jack had plenty of that here. Maybe there were medicines at the general store, but he couldn’t get to them until the storm passed, same as the milk and eggs he knew he needed to buy.

In the meantime, the only thing to do was to close up the window and the doors tightly, make sure there was enough firewood, and read to Zelle. He had a whole bookshelf over the mantel; cooking books, household books, a few doctoring books, and some novels. Today he was about halfway through Dickens’
Oliver Twist
, and Zelle dozed against his chest as he read out loud.

He wasn’t reading too loud, though, because Miss Almas—
Meri
was puttering around the house, too. It felt weird to have someone else in here with them. He’d only been here a few months, but had spent so long running and hiding that it was odd to have another adult squeezed in with him. Like being back at Sing Sing…except
not
. There, men were crammed one on top of the other, and there wasn’t any freedom to move or speak or do what you wanted. Here, he was in control—of himself and his destiny—and she was…well, having her humming in the kitchen didn’t feel anything like having a cellmate. It was
nice
.

With the fire burning so strongly in the hearth—the wind howled outside, but in here it was cozy—Meri had set a few big tubs of water to warming. He’d dragged them inside for her before the storm hit, and now he was glad of it. The tubs were steaming, and she was ready to wash all of the clothes that she’d worn on her journey.

His voice trailed off and the book fell against Zelle as he watched Meri roll up her sleeves and get to work. He’d never watched anyone wash clothes before, but Meri seemed efficient and no-nonsense. She’d rung out both of her gowns and hung them up over the line she’d strung, before sitting back on her haunches and facing him.

Her direct gaze flustered him; he didn’t want to admit that he’d been engrossed in watching her work. Being this close to a woman was still a new experience for him, and he liked learning new things. Maybe, once she left, he’d try washing his and Princess’s clothes himself, instead of bringing them to Mrs. Spratt in town.

“Do you have anything of Zelle’s that you want washed?”

Did he? Jack swallowed. “Sure. That is, if you don’t mind?”

A little smile, and a shrug. “The water’s still hot. We could even have a bath later.” She rolled to her feet and went into the bedroom, shut tight against drafts. When she returned, holding a bundle of not just Zelle’s, but his dirty shirts as well, he saw the way her nose was scrunched up, and knew why. The bedroom wasn’t any nicer than the rest of the house. The blankets on the bed weren’t any finer than the ones he’d laid out for her last night; remnants that the previous owner had left in the barn before he’d died last year.

Yeah, he and his princess lived a rough life, but so what? He was learning to get by on his own, thanks to all those how-to books he’d sent off for.  They were doing alright; Zelle hadn’t starved yet, even if her little shirts weren’t the cleanest.

But as he watched Meri wring out and hang up one of his socks, Jack couldn’t help but wonder. Wonder if maybe, having a wife to share all of this with wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Maybe Zelle—still sleeping in his arms—wouldn’t mind having a momma.

Oh yeah, he’d seen the way Meri had reacted that morning, when he’d said the word “
momma”
to his princess. He’d watched her eyes go wide and her cheeks pinken. And he’d liked it. Had wanted to make her do that again, even if it meant calling her “momma” again and again.

He had to admit that while Zelle hadn’t let him put her down yet today, Meri was pretty good with the little girl. Their surprise houseguest had been quick to jump in with advice and suggestions when the girl refused any of the beans they’d eaten for lunch. Of course, Meri hadn’t seemed too thrilled with them either, but Jack didn’t defend his cooking. He’d learned to cook out of Mrs. Howard’s recipe book, and he didn’t know how to cook much else, yet.

But they’d eaten the leftover biscuits with his beans, and
Hooooo-weee
had they been good. Not the best thing he’d eaten over the last year, but the best thing he didn’t have to pay for. Her cooking was miles beyond his, and just the way the house
smelled
this morning made up for at least a year’s worth of prison fare.

Yeah, she was someone he could get used to having around.

Had someone—whoever’d set up that fake ad—done him a favor? Whoever he was, he hadn’t done Meri any favors; she thought that she was getting some citified dandy, and was stuck out here with him. Oh, he knew the city well enough. But he didn’t know damn well
anything
about being “citified”.

But maybe she didn’t need to know that. Maybe he could convince her…

He caught the direction of his thoughts, and scowled. Convince her to what? To stay? Just because she made his shirts smell like her hair, and because she could cook better than he could?

Jack scowled deeper at the thought, and turned his attention back to his princess, curled up against him. They’d been doing alright without anyone else. Zelle loved him, and that was all he needed. When she whimpered in her sleep, and he remembered Meri saying that she loved kids, he found himself wondering:
Yeah, but am
I
all that
Zelle
needs?

He didn’t have time to wonder about that, because Meri had rolled down her sleeves and stretched—he tried not to notice the way her blouse pressed against her breasts—and then crossed to stand beside him. He turned towards her, and his expression must’ve been seriously ugly, because she actually took a step backwards.

“I’m…” She swallowed, but then—God love her—tried again. “I’m sorry to bother you, Doctor Carpenter.”

Guilty for making her feel so hesitant, he forced a bland expression. “Jack, remember?”

“Jack.” She squared her shoulders, and Jack let himself watch. She certainly was a sight. Something good and fine that had been dropped into his life. More than he deserved, sure, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want it. Want her.

“Jack, have you noticed…” She trailed off again, but when he lifted a brow in question, she continued. “Zelle was tugging at her ear earlier, and rubbing her cheek. Could she be teething?”

It wasn’t what he’d expected to hear. “Be
what
-ing?”

“She looks about that age when her back teeth—the big ones—could be pushing through. Have you checked?”

It hadn’t even occurred to him that Zelle’s illness was due to her
teeth
. He knew how to pull infected teeth—using whatever tools he had on hand, usually—but didn’t know a damn thing about them growing in. Sure enough, he stuck one finger back in her mouth—glad that she was finally asleep—and felt around. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for, but the area behind three of her back teeth seemed warmer and harder than it should be. When he pressed on the skin, she whimpered suddenly and thrashed. He got his finger out of there just in time, and looked up to meet Meri’s dark eyes.

She smiled slightly. “I noticed that she was chewing on her hand a lot, and drooling.”

“She always does that.”

“That much?”

He shrugged, willing to concede. “Nah, I guess not. Drooling, rubbing her face, and her teeth feel funny. I’d say you’re right.” He gently shifted Zelle, and then stood, not minding the way he towered over Meri. Standing beside her made him feel…like a real man. Almost. And the way she smiled at the baby made him start wondering again…

Clearing his throat, he forced those thoughts away. “So what do we do?”

“What did you and your wife do when she was teething before?”

Your wife
. His wife. What did he and his wife do when she was teething before? “I…I don’t know.”
I wasn’t there
. “I don’t remember.”

Maybe his lie hadn’t been entirely convincing, because she cocked her head and looked at him strangely. “Well, cold water would help, and I left some on the counter. Something to chew on, maybe some clean rough fabric. If you’ll let me look around…?”

Happy to change the subject, Jack made a little sweeping motion around the cabin. “You’re welcome to poke around as much as you want while you’re here.”

She smiled at him, and it was the first time she’d really smiled. She was…
Lovely
didn’t seem like a good enough word for the way she made his breath catch. She looked
angelic
. She looked like every fantasy he’d ever had while locked up with the scum and evil-doers of New York. She looked like salvation and redemption and a future, all wrapped up together, and that thought was enough to make Jack curse quietly. He was glad she’d moved away already.

Zelle
was his salvation and redemption.
Zelle
was who was going to make him a better man, going to get him into Heaven.
Zelle
was his future.

But damn. When he bit into the stew Mari’d made that evening—beans, bacon, and potatoes!—he lost his resolve. How had she managed to use the same stuff he used and make it taste so good? The second batch of biscuits and jam hadn’t hurt either. Neither had the way she’d looked, bustling around the kitchen, or how she’d managed to make Zelle smile once or twice.

The little girl was sitting in her usual chair now, the one with the big block of wood he’d put on it, so that she would be able to reach the table. She didn’t look
happy
, exactly, but seemed more content, now that Meri’d given her a cold wet towel and a wooden spoon to gnaw on. The woman—the angel—had kept up a steady stream of chatter and teasing and even some songs while she prepared dinner, and his princess had finally taken a liking to her. Zelle was still warm, and hadn’t eaten anything, but was drinking the cold water like there was no tomorrow.

And even doing all that, Meri had managed to put together a dinner as good as Mrs. Spratt’s in town. He was beginning to think that whoever had sent her that letter had done him a world of good. If only he was the sort of man who
could
marry her.

They made eye contact, across the table, and Meri lost her teasing grin. He’d done that to her; made her face go all serious like that. Nothing like her smile earlier. The smile he knew he’d remember during the long nights after she left. Just like he’d imagined a woman like her for nine years’ worth of long nights.

He cleared his throat, desperate to find a way to make her smile again. “So, you’re a doctor? Not a cook? ‘Cause this stew is delicious.”

“Thank you.” She blushed, but didn’t look away when he took another bite and chewed with relish. “I wanted to be a doctor, but women couldn’t study medicine. But then I found out about the Female Medical College of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia, so I begged my father to let me attend. I wanted to help the women and children who lived in my hometown.” She picked at her stew. “But I didn’t finish the program.”

“You dropped out and decided to get married?” he asked, around a mouthful of potatoes. He knew he was being rude, pushing her like that. It just didn’t really matter to him, if it meant he could find out more about her.

“No, I…” She took a hasty bite, and swallowed. He could tell it was just to give herself time to think, so he kept quiet and shoveled another spoonful of the potatoes into his mouth. “It wasn’t always safe for a woman, living alone in the city.” That was an understatement, he could tell. “I decided that I’d learned what I needed, and that I didn’t need to become a doctor.”

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