The Widows of Braxton County (2 page)

Chapter 2

Summer 2012, Braxton County, Iowa

K
ate Krause admired the shiny gold band on the third finger of her left hand. She felt the silly grin spread across her face as she watched the way the late morning light, shining through the car window, glinted off the simple ring. Dropping her hand to her lap, her attention moved to her husband as he drove down the thin ribbon of blacktop. His dark blond hair lay tousled across his forehead and she longed to touch it, but knew Joe wouldn’t appreciate the distraction. Such a strong profile—such a strong man. A man a woman could lean on. A man without the Peter Pan syndrome who expected her to take care of him.

A bubble of joy tickled around her heart. She was so lucky. Thank God she’d responded to his “wink” on that online dating site. Who knew that one, innocuous beginning would lead to the sensitive e-mails, the thought-provoking conversations, and, most of all, to a man who took the time to know her better than she knew herself. They’d lived hundreds of miles apart, yet they’d found each other against the odds. True soul mates.

She gave a little sigh of contentment and snuggled back in her seat. Her childhood memories would fade and she’d at last have the home she’d always longed for. Her grin slipped and she looked down at her wedding band again.

Joe’s hand suddenly covered hers. “You’re worried about your grandmother,” he stated.

She turned toward him with a grimace. “I’m sorry she was so rude to you after the ceremony.”

“Don’t be,” he replied with a light squeeze. “Your grandmother raised you. It’s got to be hard for her to watch you marry a man she barely knows, then see you move to a new home so far away.”

Kate turned toward the window. Right, a new home that didn’t include her grandmother. No more listening to the endless complaints. No more putting her life on hold for the sake of her grandmother’s. And most of all, she’d never have to hear the daily reminders of how her grandparents had taken her in after her widowed mother had died. She wouldn’t be relying on the charity of others. She’d have her own home—her own place.

“You’re right,” she said with a glance at Joe. “I think she thought I’d stay single for the rest of my life.”

He shot her a quick look, taking in her dark brown hair and eyes. “Then she should be happy for you—and she will be, once she meets her first great-grandchild,” he said with a wink as he gave her stomach a light caress.

Kate hugged her middle as if to protect the new life growing inside. Not bloody likely. She recalled her grandmother’s words when she’d announced her news—

“Pregnant! Of all the stupid . . .”

Wincing at the memory, her attention stole back to her new husband. She hadn’t told him about her grandmother’s reaction. Based on his childhood stories, Joe had grown up in a home where children were treasured. He wouldn’t understand. Her grandmother didn’t like sharing the attention. A baby would be competition and make it impossible for Kate to come running whenever she called. Again she kept her thoughts to herself and nodded. “Tell me more about my new home,” she said, changing the subject.

Joe’s laughter echoed in the car. “Kate, for the hundredth time—it’s nothing special—just an old farmhouse built in the 1870s.”

She released her seat belt and scooted next to him, cuddling her shoulder against his arm. “Yeah, but—”

He suddenly leaned away.

Hurt, Kate lifted her face. “What’s wrong?”

“You shouldn’t unbuckle your seat belt,” he replied, a stern note creeping into his voice.

At his reprimand, she returned to her place by the passenger’s window and buckled up. He reached out and patted her leg.

“I’m sorry if I sounded gruff,” he said with a sideways glance. “I take my new job as your husband seriously, and part of that job is keeping you safe.”

Of course . . . how silly of her not to think of that. And how silly not to be strapped in when riding in a vehicle hurtling sixty miles an hour down the road. It wasn’t just her life he wanted to keep safe. He wanted to protect their child, too. Her face brightened. “Back to your farm— Your great-great-grandfather was one of the first settlers of Braxton County, wasn’t he?”

He grinned at her persistence and shook his head. “Yes. Jacob. He came to Iowa in the 1870s with his first wife and baby son.”

“The baby was your great-grandfather.”

“Um-hmm. Joseph. He inherited all the land when his dad died, and we’ve been there ever since.”

Kate stared ahead at the ribbon of road stretching before them. Joe’s life had been so different from hers. While her friends had had parents and siblings, all she’d had were her grandparents. She lifted her shoulder in a shrug. None of that mattered now. Finally, she belonged to a family with roots stretching back to the 1870s. Her child would have a heritage that he could be proud of.

The scene passing outside the car window caught her attention as Joe slowed his speed. They were entering a small town whose skyline was dominated by grain elevators. This must be Dutton. She watched eagerly while they traveled down the main drag, noting the small library, the post office, City Hall with one police cruiser parked in front, and finally the shops—many of which held large “for sale” signs in their front windows. Only a couple of the businesses appeared to have any customers. One was a store with the words
Krause Hardware
written in big letters across the front of the building.

She turned excitedly to Joe. “Does your family own that, too?”

“No,” he replied in a terse voice.

Confused, Kate looked back at the store they’d already passed. “But I thought— It’s the same last name.”

“I guess I should’ve explained.” His grip on the steering wheel tightened. “The owner is a distant cousin, but his branch of the family has never claimed mine.” He gave her a quick look. “Their prices are too high, and we
never
do business there. If we need anything, we go to Flint Rapids.”

“Oh—well . . .” her voice trailed away as she squirmed uncomfortably in her seat.

Joe’s grip on the wheel eased. “It’s an old feud and has nothing to do with us.” He grinned at her. “You’re going to be too busy raising our child and I’m too busy farming to worry about ancient history.” With a nod of his head, he motioned toward one of the buildings. “And speaking of children . . . that’s Dr. Adams’s office. He’s just a GP, but he’s been delivering babies around these parts for years. I want you to make an appointment with him and get started on your prenatal care as soon as possible.”

Kate grimaced. “I don’t like doctors.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he replied gently, “but you haven’t seen one yet and we want to make sure everything’s okay, don’t we?”

“Of course, but I’d rather use a midwife,” she answered stiffly.

“Kate, I imagine the closest midwife is in Flint Rapids and I want someone in Dutton. Dr. Adams will be fine.”

“I’m not going to let him pump me full of synthetic substances,” she shot back, not hiding the stubborn tone in her voice. “I’m sticking with my organic vitamins.”

He sighed. “I understand your love of all things natural, but you’ll need to do what the doctor thinks is best.”

“Like my mother did?”

“Oh, sweetie,” Joe said, reaching out and clasping her hand. “It must’ve been hard losing your mother when you were only a teenager, but your mother’s doctor was a quack.”

“A quack who caused her death.” Her lips settled in a bitter line. “He wouldn’t listen to her . . . dismissed her complaints as hormonal,” she replied, making quotes in the air. “If he had paid attention to her symptoms, they might have caught the cancer in time.”

“And he paid the price, didn’t he? You received a nice settlement.”

“You mean my
grandparents
received a settlement, and it didn’t make up for losing my mom.”

He released her hand. “Kate, I’m sorry about what happened to your mom, but it’s in the past and you can’t let it affect our future,” he said, his tone short. “Your health and that of the baby are important. I don’t want a midwife handling your care.”

Kate rubbed her hand across her forehead. “But I don’t trust doctors.”

“You trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Then trust me to make the right decision for you.”

She let her hand fall to her lap and studied his profile once again. It was hard. For so long she’d been on her own—responsible not only for her own life but for that of her grandmother. She wasn’t accustomed to anyone wanting to care for her, for a change—someone who wanted to share her burdens. Hadn’t he been overjoyed when he’d learned of her pregnancy and insisted they get married sooner rather than later? She needed to learn how to rely on her husband.

Turning toward him, she smiled. “I’m sorry. I do trust you, and if you think Dr. Adams is the best choice”—she hesitated and swallowed hard—“then that’s good enough for me.”

A broad grin crossed his face. “That’s my girl.”

Kate fell silent as they left Dutton and continued to head north on the county road. Soon the small town was replaced by field after field of crops growing in the hot summer sun. They drove by a few farmsteads, but mostly the landscape was nothing but flat land with an occasional rise. The only other buildings Kate saw were long, narrow sheds; and as they drove by, she caught the distinct odor of manure. Crinkling her nose, she tapped the window.

“What are those?”

“Hog confinements.” Joe glanced out his window. “They hold maybe seven to eight thousand hogs.”

Kate waved a hand in front of her nose. “No wonder it smells.”

“But, honey, hogs are mortgage payers.” Joe shot her a grin. “And that stink is the smell of money.”

She didn’t care if hogs were moneymakers. She couldn’t imagine breathing that odor day in and day out. “Are there any near your farm?”

“No—not any big operations.” He gave her thigh an affectionate squeeze. “Don’t worry, city girl. Our hog lots are away from the house.”

She continued to watch the landscape until Joe nudged her arm.

“There. Up the road,” he said as he turned off onto a gravel road. “That’s my farm.”

In the distance, a large white farmhouse sat on a slight rise, and Kate felt her excitement kick in. At last, she’d see where she intended to spend the rest of her life.

Joe slowed and made a turn onto a long driveway leading up the rise. Closer now, the two-story house was even bigger than it had appeared in the distance. It was surrounded by maple trees and had long windows shaded by lace curtains. A wide porch wrapped around two sides. The house looked solid, like something that had withstood the test of time. A delighted smile played across Kate’s face as the car came to a stop.

“Here we are,” he said, shutting off the car and leaning over to give her a quick kiss. “Welcome to your new home. I know you’ll be happy here.”

Home. A thrill ran through her as she glanced back at the house and was surprised to see one of the lace curtains flick to the side.

“Joe,” she said, turning back to him, “there’s someone at the window.”

“Umm . . . I didn’t expect—” He broke off suddenly and his cheeks flushed as he pulled the keys and opened his door. “I’ll explain inside.”

Kate’s attention returned to the house.
Explain inside?
Her mind flew to what that explanation might be. She’d heard about how neighborly farm families were, and she wondered if Joe hadn’t planned a little surprise for her by inviting all of his neighbors by in order to welcome his new bride. How sweet, she thought, smiling over at him. Their wedding had been at the courthouse with her friend Lindsay acting as her witness, and a deputy was drafted into the role for Joe’s witness. Kate’s lip curled. The only “guest” had been her grandmother. It hadn’t exactly been her dream wedding, but they hadn’t had the time to plan a large ceremony and reception. Now he was trying to make it up to her.

When Joe got out and retrieved their luggage from the trunk, she flipped the visor down and quickly fluffed her short brown hair. She wished she’d worn a more attractive outfit than a T-shirt and blue jeans. Oh well, she thought, snapping the visor shut, they’ll have to accept me as I am.

“Hey,” Joe, with his arms full of luggage, hollered from the front porch, “are you going to sit there all day, or do you want to see your new home?”

Laughing, Kate scrambled out of the car and joined him on the porch. She waited for him to set the luggage down and carry her over the threshold—and when he didn’t, she took a deep breath and stepped inside, silently preparing herself for the shouts of “surprise.”

The small hallway with stairs leading up on her right was empty. Perplexed, she glanced over her shoulder at Joe, who’d followed her through the door and was now stacking the luggage by the stairs.

“Come on,” he said, taking her arm and guiding her through a large doorway to her left.

She found herself standing in the living room, or parlor as she supposed it should be called. A large brick fireplace dominated the far wall and its mantel was covered with ornate frames holding pictures of past generations of Krauses. The golden pine floor was partially covered by an area rug. Around the rug sat a couch and two armchairs, definitely Victorian by the looks of them. On all three, the arms and backs were protected with lace doilies. Small tables crowded the room—their surfaces covered with more pictures.
With all the froufrous sitting around, this room had to be a nightmare to clean
.