A Quiet Life Page 6

  Grace wasn’t paying attention to their progress so it felt rather sudden when Matthias pulled the horse to a stop. He jumped off first to help her down. “Go in and get dry,” he said. “I need to see to the horse.”

  “Thank you,” she said. She stood on her toes, intending to kiss his cheek but he turned and met her mouth with his own.

  He kissed her deeply and she felt his usual intensity behind it. She responded in kind and threw her arms around his neck to keep him close. He pushed her away after a minute. “Go on,” he said. The words seemed an effort. “I don’t want you to catch a chill out here.”

  She nodded and went into the house. Justus was at the table reading the bible. He looked up when he heard the door. “You’re wetter’n the fish, aren’t you?” he observed.

  “Could be,” Grace said with a shrug. She hurried into her bedroom to find dry clothes. But the hurry left her as soon as she was alone. She stood against the door and closed her eyes to remember. A shiver passed through her that had nothing to do with cold. She shook it off and stored those happy thoughts for later. Her wet clothes were heavy and clinging to her. By the time she had changed and fixed her hair and hung up her wet things, Justus had filleted most of the fish.

  “I could have done that, but thank you,” she said to him.

  “I thought if I worked on the fish, you’d have time for a dessert.”

  Grace couldn’t answer before a door creaked. Matthias came out of his bedroom carrying the clothes he’d worn to fetch her. Grace went to take them from him.

  “He can hang up his own duds,” Justus said. “I nearly had her talked into a pie. Isn’t that why you rushed her back here?”

  Matthias let her take the bundle. The small smile that she detected on her husband suggested that while that was not why he had gone after her, he wouldn’t mind something sweet.

  “This will only take a minute,” Grace said with a nod to the clothes, “but I can’t be making pies for men who go and ruin ‘em.”

  “A bit of pinched crust does not ruin a pie.” Justus was carrying the fish scraps towards the door. “Tell your woman to make us a pie while I’m gone,” he said.

  Grace looked over at Matthias. He had taken his rifle down to oil it. “I think you’d actually prefer a cobbler,” she said.

  He only nodded but she felt as though there was something new in the room with them, a new understanding. That kiss outside had not been between two people who were married in name only. Grace hoped that it had said the same thing to Matthias.

  She felt him watching her as she began working on a dessert. She heard the door open as Justus returned. “No sign it’s letting up,” he muttered. He seemed to try to beat the rain from his clothes as it beat much harder on the roof.

  Grace listened to the heavy rhythm and thought she might still be standing out there if Matthias hadn’t gone after her. She felt an urge to run outside again to see if he would chase her. Then she considered trying to explain such ridiculous behavior and confined the idea to a fantasy.

  The men stayed inside and while Justus quietly sifted through some old papers, Matthias eventually came to watch Grace cook. He sliced some peaches without being asked and handed her the pitcher of milk as she needed it. The rain slowed to a gentle patter on the wood around them. Grace felt peaceful at home with her new family.

  Justus stood and stretched himself out of the chair. He looked over the work in the kitchen and nodded approval of what was about to go into the oven. “I don’t know what it is about the rain that makes me sleepy,” he said, “but I’m gonna milk Belle now so’s I can turn in as soon as I’m fed.”

  As the door closed behind him, Matthias said, “Do you suppose that means he’s expecting a share of that cobbler?”

  Grace faced her husband and returned his smile. “I suppose I could give him your share.”

  Matthias straightened his expression promptly. “No more kidding,” he said. “Do you want more help with dinner?”

  “Will you read to me?” she asked.

  He raised an eyebrow at this new request.

  She shrugged. “I don’t need help. But I know you have books in your room and I… I think it’d be nice.”

  “If it makes you happy,” he said. He pressed a light kiss to her forehead and went to choose a book. Justus returned as he was about to begin and the younger brother picked up his tools and scratched at a piece of wood while Matthias read and Grace filled the house with delicious smells.

  All three of them yawned during dinner.

  Justus turned in early as he said he would. Matthias helped clean up the kitchen and Grace felt a strange tension building between them. No words were spoken and she couldn’t think of anything other than her belief that surely this was the night he’d come to her room. She hung up the last pan and turned to face her husband.

  He stepped close to kiss her lips briefly. He stepped back and kept his eyes locked on hers as he said, “Goodnight, Grace.”

  She nodded and said, “Goodnight,” as she began walking towards her room. She heard his footsteps moving in the other direction. Grace bit back the disappointment as she began to ready herself for bed. Her fingers stopped in the middle of the braid though and a small smile reflected in her mirror. She understood how he was asking.

  ~~ ~~

  Matthias had always liked Sundays. There was generally less work to be done and more time for contemplation and prayer. He liked Sundays more now that Grace was there. Of course, he liked all days better with Grace there. He’d had no idea he was lonely until she arrived and filled all the empty places in his life.

  He enjoyed watching her with Justus. They sparred as though they’d always been siblings. She was a great helper on the farm and generally everything he would have wanted in a wife if he’d known he wanted one. And now he knew the time was coming when she could truly be his.

  He’d been worried yesterday that she might be upset with him for riding out after her, afraid she’d be insulted that he thought she couldn’t handle a bit of rain. But the idea that she could get lost or sick in the downpour took hold of him and made him go to find her.

  She hadn’t been angry. She’d thanked him. Oh, how she’d thanked him. He’d wanted to help her out of those wet clothes. He had to be absolutely sure though and getting swept up in a moment was something she might regret. He knew she’d find a way to tell him when she was wholly ready.

  In the meantime, he was looking forward to another Sunday stroll with her. Matthias had finished all his chores for the night and was preparing a present for the following day. On the last walk, Grace had set that old rope swinging. Though she didn’t say it, he could see that she wished it had a seat for her. He was going to surprise her with one. He’d split a nice sturdy board and was working to make it as smooth as possible. A piece of wood was hardly a gift though. It was so plain. He got out a small knife and began to form curved grooves along the side. That seemed an improvement so he did the same thing on the other side.

  It was very late by the time he was satisfied. He left the swing just inside the barn with some rope. He’d hang it for Grace when they went walking. Maybe she’d thank him.

  He opened the front door as quietly as he could. Grace and Justus would both be asleep. He saw that Grace was asleep, but she was not in her room. She sat in the rocking chair in her nightdress with a shawl loosely around her shoulders. A sewing project of some sort was in her lap but her head was resting on her shoulder and her lamp had gone out.

  Matthias set his lamp on the table. He remembered watching her sleep the first night she arrived, fearful that she might never wake up. He couldn’t imagine doing that again with his heart as full as it was now. This peaceful sleep was so much nicer. He almost didn’t want to wake her.

  He knelt in front of the chair and her eyes flew open before he said anything. Her lips turned up in a beautiful smile. She’d been waiting for him. The thought was so wonderful he couldn’t resist kissing her to show her that he w
as home, just one short tender kiss. “Did you need something?” he asked in a whisper.

  She shook her head.

  He took the shirt she was mending off her lap. “I’ll put this up so you can go to bed.”

  She smiled again and began walking towards her room as he put the shirt aside.

  “Goodnight, Grace.”

  Maybe she’d only said it too quietly but he didn’t hear her respond so he followed to the doorway of her room. She turned to face him and appeared surprised but not unhappy. She’d been waiting for him. “I won’t mind if you want to say goodnight,” he said softly. “Just say goodnight and I’ll go.”

  Her eyes fell nervously to the floor. She didn’t say a word as she began to slowly work the fingers of one hand over the back of the other. Matthias slipped his hand between hers and she continued to move her fingers over his skin. He used his other hand to close the door before he kissed her again.

  ~~ The End ~~

  A Sudden Yes

  a novella

  Charlotte Thorpe

  Copyright 2014 Charlotte Thorpe

  All rights reserved. Before Someday Publishing

  Smashwords Edition

  A Sudden Yes is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, events, etc. are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  ~~ ~~

  Kansas 1885

  Miss Mary made the best blackberry jam. If Justus Baker had come to town for blackberry jam, he’d consider the trip a success. He’d come for something a bit more important though. The town was small and Justus was fairly certain he’d ruled out the few right-aged women in and around it. Or they had ruled him out. At a sudden burst of unseasonably warm weather – which meant snow was unlikely to slow him down – he’d packed up his belongings and settled his bill with Miss Mary, who ran the boardinghouse where he’d spent most of the winter.

  It was only the first week of March and he could afford to stay the rest of the month. It seemed prudent to save the money for a future visit. If he met someone now, it was doubtful he’d convince her to wed before he needed to get back to his farm.

  Miss Mary was nowhere to be seen this morning as he finished his breakfast. The biscuits and jam were left on the table and Justus wondered if the woman was avoiding the farewell. She’d gotten rather emotional when he told her he was leaving early. He hollered a goodbye at the front door in case his hostess was hiding somewhere in the house.

  Silence was his response but only for a few moments before a terrible clattering sound echoed through the house. An unusually tall, gray-haired woman appeared and threw her arms around him. “Justus Baker,” she said as she released him, “do you have those extra biscuits I packed for your lunch?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And you’re sure the seams on that coat are sound?”

  “Finer stitching I’ve never seen,” he said. “Thanks again for fixing it up for me.”

  Miss Mary held a handkerchief in one hand and fanned her face with it as though she might be able to dry the tears before they fell. “And you won’t be forgetting your promise now?”

  She’d made him promise to visit her next time he was in town, even if he didn’t need a place to stay. “Don’t you fret about that.” He put his hand up to his chest as he spoke. “You’re kindness, and your cooking, have imprinted on my heart.”

  “Oh, stop with your nonsense,” Miss Mary replied, fanning her face even faster. “Now you best get. You don’t need an old woman blubbering over you all day.”

  Justus bid her farewell again and swung his sack over his shoulder before he walked out. She stood on the porch and watched as he headed to the livery. It was going to be three days home with the wagon but he needed it for the supplies for the farm and for the house he’d now be building only for himself.

  Once the team was hitched, the only thing that remained was stopping by the parsonage to offer a farewell to Rev. John. He hoped the man wasn’t too put out that Justus was leaving on a Saturday. He didn’t know when the weather might turn again though so he couldn’t afford to stick around for one more sermon. Rev. John loved a good long sermon. Staying for Sunday wouldn’t cost Justus a day’s travel. It would cost him a day and a half.

  The parsonage was built onto the back of the church. Justus found Rev. John in front of the building as he pulled up. This alleviated any concerns that he might rouse the man from his bed. He was not alone though. There was a woman sitting on the step next to him. Justus could not identify her because her hands were covering her face. The posture clearly indicated some sort of distress. Justus pulled his horses to a stop but stayed in the seat for fear of intruding on a private matter.

  Rev. John waved to him happily and called out, “Mr. Baker! What brings you out this early?”

  “I’m starting for home today and wanted to pay a final call. I’ll just be on my way since you already have a visitor.”

  The parson’s hands stroked his round middle as they found his suspenders. “You can’t leave without letting me offer up a prayer for the journey. Come on down.”

  “I won’t interrupt,” Justus said. “But thank you just the same. I know your prayers will go with me.”

  The woman stood then and wiped her hands across her cheeks as she did so. “Please, sir. You needn’t rush off on my account.”

  Rev. John jovially motioned Justus to join them. “Come on, son. Miss Haid doesn’t need me until her groom gets here anyway.”

  Justus couldn’t continue to refuse. Though he still felt as though he was intruding, he also felt an overwhelming curiosity about the young Miss Haid. He didn’t recognize her once he saw her face. She was beautiful even with the tear tracks. How had he not met her during the winter? And why on earth was she so upset if she was about to get married? A protective instinct made him want to ask questions that were none of his business.

  The older man slapped Justus on the back as he joined them and he said, “Went and got homesick, huh?”

  “The break in the weather seems a chance I can’t pass up.”

  “It does feel almost like spring,” Rev. John observed. “Now I know you have a long journey. Let’s get to praying.” The preacher bowed his head and began to praise God with an abundance of exclamations. The sentiment was heartfelt but the language was flowery and after a good ten minutes of it, Justus caught the eye of Miss Haid and offered a look of commiseration. She quickly turned away as a slight pink came to her cheeks to match the color around her eyes.

  Who was this young woman and who was she about to marry? Justus knew of a man named Haid. He was unpleasant and it was common knowledge that he gambled away more money than he could pay. It was not common knowledge that he had any sort of family. The two facts together did not sit well with Justus.

  The slightly graying preacher finished his prayer with, “… and we humbly ask that You look after Mr. Baker on his long journey and in the coming year. We ask also that the young Miss Haid finds her impending marriage a blessing in disguise. Amen.”

  Justus mumbled, “Amen,” and heard a feminine voice add the same. He returned his hat to his head but did not move to reclaim his seat in the wagon. The preacher sensed his hesitation.

  “Don’t you fret about Miss Haid,” Rev. John said with a laugh. “All brides are nervous. Her intended may be more challenging than most but she’s up for the task. I wouldn’t perform the ceremony if she hadn’t given her consent.”

  Consent could be forced. Miss Haid appeared to confirm that as she pushed another tear from her cheek. Justus turned to address her directly. He faltered for a moment, not wanting to make any outright accusations against her family. “Miss... Miss Haid, can you assure me that you are more willing than your outward state suggests?”

  She nodded. “I choose to… to help my father.”

  Justus understood. She had been offered up as a means to repay a significant debt. He hated to think of the woman joined to the sort of man who would accept that offer. If s
he willingly helped her father though, there was nothing he could do about it. “Good day then.”

  He turned to leave and Miss Haid blurted out, “I can’t go home.”

  Her eyes met his and Justus saw something that looked like desperation. It could have been simply an explanation of her choice but he decided to offer her a different option in case it was the call for help he perceived. He removed the hat again and crushed it between his hands. “Miss Haid,” he said, “I’m on my way out of town. Our farm is a good ways out so I won’t be back for quite some time. We don’t spend much on extras but the land gives us most of what we need. It’s a quiet, comfortable life.” He paused and ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t have time to court you proper what with you expecting a groom and all.” He thought he saw a hint of a smile on the lady, which encouraged him to continue. “I’ve been looking for a wife and I’m thinking this might be my last chance not to leave empty-handed. I don’t know how you’d get on with the likes of me but I can only promise to do my best to treat you with kindness if you’ll accept my proposal.”

  Rev. John whooped with excitement at the sudden offer but Miss Haid simply stared at him as though she couldn’t believe her ears.

  ~~ ~~

  Lucy Haid regarded the man in front of her. He hadn’t even introduced himself before he proposed, though she noted that the preacher had called him Mr. Baker. He must be younger than thirty and that would make him closer to her age by two decades than the man her father intended. He was quite good-looking but it was something else… something that felt like pure instinct that made her say, “Yes.”