A Quiet Life Page 11
There was a soft chuckle behind her. Justus winked when she turned to investigate. It seemed that the men had shared some wordless joke. Lucy got the last biscuit on the pan. She enjoyed the light tone of the evening and by the end of a pleasant dinner, during which every last crumb of food disappeared, she had all but forgotten about that stray tear.
The cloak was a deep navy except for a few faded patches. It had belonged to her mother. Lucy slipped it over her head before going out after dinner to check for eggs. She greeted the hens and was still coaxing the first one aside when Justus appeared next to her, no coat or hat. “What did I do?” he said.
Lucy searched the concern on his face for details on the question.
“I made you cry,” he said. “Tell me what I did so I don’t do it again.”
Oh, for pity’s sake. If the man was going to be this thoughtful he was going to have a difficult time avoiding what he wanted to avoid. Lucy bit hard on the impulse to laugh and shoved a hen out of the way while she decided how to explain that it wasn’t something she minded.
~~ ~~
This whole being married thing was proving more challenging than he expected. Justus’ limited experience with women told him that they generally took pride in their cooking and enjoyed having it appreciated. He was completely confounded as to how wanting to taste Lucy’s pie could have upset her.
“Thank you,” she said to the hen as she retrieved its egg. She faced Justus slowly. “You… uh… you didn’t do anything bad.”
“Who was it?”
“No one upset me. I… there wasn’t anything wrong at all.”
Justus remembered his ma once trying to explain that a woman could cry when nothing was wrong. He had just given her one of the first things he’d ever carved, a pitiful owl. The idea of crying over nothing made as much sense now as it had when he was six. He would have to take Lucy’s word that he couldn’t fix the situation. She didn’t seem to want to talk about it and pressing the issue might make things worse. He reached under a hen close to him, figuring he might as well help now that he was there. No egg. The next hen was equally stingy.
“Don’t you have chores?” Lucy asked. She was working her way towards him.
“I do,” he said, “but I suddenly feel needed in the henhouse.”
He was noticing that they were alone for the first time since Sunday. Now how could he get her to put down the eggs so she wouldn’t drop them if he stole a kiss?
“I can manage,” she said.
“Lucy, are you wanting me to leave?”
“No!”
He’d only been teasing but her rushed answer sounded suspiciously guilty. “You are, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m really not. You can help.” She offered him the basket. He took it and set it down. She regarded him like a jumpy horse.
“You’re not still afraid of me, are you?”
She shook her head.
“But you want me to leave you be?”
She opened her mouth. Then closed it. Then opened her mouth. She almost said a word before she closed it again.
Justus wasn’t sure he wanted her to come up with an answer. It should have been an easy question and he decided to tell her as much. “You’re gonna tell me now how I’m mistaken. That you like finding yourself alone with me as much as I like arranging it.”
Lucy’s eyes creased on the edges. How in the world was she confused? Her lips moved and the words were quiet but he thought she asked, “Do you?”
The frustrating woman needed to have a few things made perfectly plain. He tried to kiss her into understanding. His hands slipped under her cloak and up her back where he could pull her close. He didn’t stop kissing her until he needed to catch his breath. Even then, he held her tightly. He could feel her lungs taking in air. “Ask me now if I want to be next to you.”
Her head moved haltingly side to side.
“Ask me if I love you.”
A smile flickered before she shook her head again.
“Ask me if I regret a rash decision.”
She shook her head yet again and hastily shoved something away from her eye. Had he been too forceful or did the conversation just go right back to where it started?
Justus loosened his grip but let his hands linger on her waist. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No.”
He was glad to hear the single word as he was getting a little tired of the head shaking. “I’ll leave you to the eggs,” he said.
Lucy didn’t try to stop him as he left the henhouse. He knew she wouldn’t. It was still disappointing.
He walked into the barn where Matthias had already mucked out the stalls and fed the horses. He was sitting near Belle working milk into a bucket. His hands kept moving while his eyebrows lifted at his brother, who realized he still wasn’t wearing a coat or hat.
“You acted a fool when Grace arrived, you know.”
“A woman messes with your head. I won’t argue that.”
Justus sighed. “I’ll see to the pigs. I know how to care for them.”
Matthias patted Belle as his brother walked away, likely assuring the cow that they weren’t including her in the complexity of females.
Lucy had already gone to her room for the night when Justus got back into the house. He stood by the fire trying to warm up. Grace had apparently gone to bed as well. Matthias had a lamp lit at the table and a book open. Justus looked at the two doors and thought about going into Lucy’s room. He still wasn’t sure that he hadn’t been too rough in the henhouse. He went into his own room and sat down to take off his boots.
~~ ~~
A short but loud scream hit the darkness. Justus knew it was Lucy’s voice. He scrambled into his trousers and lit a lamp. When he opened his door, Matthias was also pulling up suspenders and headed for his rifle. Justus opened Lucy’s door and saw her sitting up in bed, bits of hair stuck to the side of her face and her hand contritely over her mouth.
“Nightmare,” Justus said over his shoulder.
Matthias nodded and turned without a word back to his room.
Justus came into the room and sat on the edge of her bed. “Do you need anything?” he asked.
“I’m fine.” She was trembling slightly and did not look fine.
“You sure?”
“I haven’t had a nightmare since I was little,” she said. “Did I wake everyone?”
“They’ll go right back to sleep.”
Lucy nodded, still looking guilty. And shaken.
Justus stood to leave.
“Don’t…” She slipped her lower lip between her teeth to cut herself off. It was clear she’d been about to ask him not to leave. He stared at Lucy, giving her a chance to change her mind or pretend she hadn’t said anything at all. She slowly slid over to make room on the bed. She couldn’t possibly expect him to stay to comfort her and not… Well, she never seemed to expect anything so it was hard telling.
Justus closed the door and returned to the bed. Lucy slunk down under the quilt as he put out the lamp. He lay next to her, on top of the quilt, and felt warmer than he had since finishing the chores without the proper clothing. “Was the dream about fire?” he asked.
“No. Water.”
“Water was upsetting?”
“Not at first,” Lucy said. “I remember I was right in this room and it began to fill with water. I wasn’t scared and didn’t even wonder where the water was coming from.”
Listening to her whispering raised the heat in his body. “And then there was fire?”
He heard a smile. “No. The water got all the way up to my waist and I just remember being bothered that it was hard to move around in.”
“When exactly did it catch fire?”
Lucy pulled the quilt over her mouth to muffle her nervous laughter. “Water can’t catch fire.”
“Dreams don’t always make sense.”
“You’re right. But there was no fire. The water was nearly to my chin when I saw a man out the wind
ow.” Her brow furrowed. “I don’t know who it was, can’t even say what he looked like. But he was laughing and that’s when I realized I was trapped. The fear was so strong and sudden that I woke up… and woke everyone else.”
Lucy sounded more embarrassed now than frightened. She was probably ready for him to leave. Justus wasn’t going to be the one to suggest it though. He stared up at the roof he could barely make out in the moonlight. The room used to belong to Matthias and Justus had never slept in it before. It was very much the same as his own room yet was vastly transformed by the soft presence beside him.
He turned his head towards Lucy and her eyes were closed. She wasn’t asleep. He could tell she was beginning to drift that way though. Her breathing was steady and she looked content. He would not disturb her. Justus closed his eyes and prepared to dream about fire.
~~ ~~
Only a hint of sunlight touched Lucy’s window when she opened her eyes. She’d been waking before Grace and had felt competent enough to fix breakfast on her own once or twice. This morning, however, her bed seemed unusually comfortable and she considered closing her eyes again. Until she remembered that she was not alone! Her husband was in her bed. Her back was to him but she knew he was there. And she knew from his earlier words and actions that he wanted to be there. That was an exhilarating thought.
But then she should not have had to invite him. The nightmare had addled common sense, not to mention propriety, right out of her head. Now the serenity of the morning was marred by confusion. Why didn’t he simply tell her he was moving into her room or ask her to move into his? He had said in the beginning that he intended separate rooms only until they got used to each other. She’d been too relieved at the time to give much thought to exactly what that meant. When would he think she was used to him? Perhaps when an intangible menace was more threatening than he was?
The window soon had a golden hue. Lucy heard a door creak and knew Grace would be starting breakfast any minute. She should help. But she could not make breakfast in her nightdress and she couldn’t change because Justus might wake and see her. The only thing to do was wait for him to return to his own room.
Lucy tried to lie still while she thought of how he had so easily calmed her. Teasing someone did not sound like the best way to handle a nightmare but she smiled even at the memory of his absurd questions about fire. She couldn’t resist the temptation to peek at the man next to her. She began to roll to her back, as slowly as possible, trying not to disrupt his rest.
She expected dark lashes lowered in sleep and found dark eyes that crinkled in a smile when they met hers. How long had he been awake? Lucy rehashed her morning thoughts in a panic as though he might have been reading them through the back of her head.
He looked amused and she wondered for one ridiculous second if he really could tell what she was thinking. “You’ll always be surprised by me,” he said. “Won’t you?”
“I… I knew you were here.”
“You looked surprised.”
“I thought you were asleep.”
“Not for a while.” He picked his head up long enough to plant a quick kiss on her lips. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“You can get up without waking me now,” she said, wondering if she should confess that she hadn’t been sleeping either.
Justus smiled before he kissed her again and it made her want to be honest.
“You know,” she said, “I… I’ve always liked surprises.”
He put his lips on hers slowly and this time his hand moved onto her waist. She began to understand that Grace would be making breakfast alone. And then she didn’t think about Grace again.
~~ The End ~~
A Simple Yes
a novella
Charlotte Thorpe
Copyright 2015 Charlotte Thorpe
All rights reserved. Before Someday Publishing
Smashwords Edition
A Simple Yes is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, events, etc. are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
~~ ~~
Kansas 1886
He approached the house slowly. This was partly because he was nervous about seeing Caroline again. And it was partly because it looked as though sudden movements might cause the small shack to topple down around her. There were holes in the walls and in the roof. The well-tended garden likely meant that she was at least not going hungry.
He turned abruptly, telling himself that he wanted to get a better look at the far end of the garden, but he knew he was stalling. He kept himself near the line of trees where she might not see him if she happened to look out a window. A grave marker caught his attention and he walked towards it. The word in town was that Caroline’s husband had been killed in a bar fight several months earlier and that she’d lost a baby.
Next to her husband’s grave, however, was not one but three tiny graves. Each one was marked simply Baby Stanton. The sight brought him to his knees. Caroline had wanted to be a mother since she was a kid. He used to resent her attempts to take care of him when she was only a year older. She’d been through so much in his absence. How could he even begin to make it up to her? There was nothing left to do but to try.
He took a direct path and walked resolutely towards the house. She probably wouldn’t recognize him so it might be dangerous to look as though he was trying to sneak up on her. He’d made it to about ten feet from the door when he heard the cracking sound of a rifle being readied. The end of it came through the front window where there was no glass and a female voice called out, “What do you want?”
He froze and cleared his throat. “I just want to talk.”
“What about?”
“I, uh…” He took off his hat and faced the window. “Caroline, it’s me.”
It seemed that even the Earth halted its rotation in the two seconds he waited to see if she knew him. Then the gun disappeared from the window and he heard movement inside the house, as though furniture was being rearranged. The door flew open and a young woman stood on the stoop. Her skirt was stained on the lower half as though she spent a lot of time kneeling in the dirt but her fair hair was tied up in a tidy bun. Her eyes were wide with disbelief. “Sam?” she said.
He dipped his chin in a nod. That was the only movement he could make before she ran out and threw her arms around him.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” she said. “How are you? What have you been doing? Why didn’t you ever write? Are you back for good?” She released him with a glowing smile. “Look at you. Taller than me now. I bet you’re even taller than Pa. Do you have a family? Will you come inside and tell me everything?”
Sam nodded again, at a complete loss for what to say. All the words he’d rehearsed were no good. He’d been prepared to beg for forgiveness and that seemed to be the only thing she wasn’t asking of him. He followed her into her house.
“Coffee?” she asked.
“Please.”
“Sit down. Sit down.” Caroline practically pushed him into a chair and then began to flit around her own kitchen as though she didn’t know where anything was kept.
Sam watched quietly while she poured the coffee, casting several quick glances over her shoulder at him. Perhaps she feared he’d disappear for another ten years if she turned her back long enough. She was so thin he wondered if he was wrong about her eating well.
She placed a cup on the table in front of him and sat in the other chair. “I don’t drink coffee very often. It’s providential that I had some ready for company. I hope it isn’t too weak.” She smiled and took a sip from her own cup. “Now tell me all about you,” she said.
The cup was warm in his hands. He took a drink only to delay speaking. Whether she asked for it or not, an apology was the only way he could think to start. “I’m sorry, Caroline. I never meant to abandon you and Lucy.”
“I know,” she said. “We both thought it was a good idea at the time. And I don’t blame you for wan
ting to leave. You were right about Pa. He was worse after Ma died.”
“All the more reason I should have stayed to protect you.”
“Trying to make your own way was a good idea.”
Sam shook his head. He didn’t want to hear his sister defend his selfishness. It would be easier to have her angry with him.
“It was naïve to think you’d have a place for all of us within a year but you were fourteen,” Caroline said. “And I believed it, too. But the longer we went without hearing from you, the more convinced we were that something terrible had happened to you.”
Sam released a ragged sigh. “The only terrible thing that happened to me was that I became a coward. I should have checked on you years ago.” He didn’t tell her that the reason he hadn’t returned was that he feared finding his sisters had escaped their father by marrying men little better. People in town weren’t shy about telling him that was exactly what had happened to Caroline. At least it sounded as though Lucy might have been luckier.
Caroline waved her hand as though she was literally clearing the air. “You’re here now,” she said. “And it looks as though you’ve done all right for yourself.”
“Better than I deserve.”
“Enough of that. Tell me where you’re living.”
“Texas. I’ve been working on a ranch there since a few months after I left home.”
She nodded encouragingly.
“I, uh… the owner was a man named Jonas Hughes. He had no family and he took to me almost like a son. We were close.”
“Were?” Caroline prodded gently.
“He passed on about a month ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
Sam acknowledged the sentiment and tried to return it cautiously. “I was told you also had a fairly recent loss.”
Her eyes fell to the table between them. “I feel awful for being relieved. I never wished him dead.”