by Ciara Knight
I should’ve known any talk of meeting a nice woman wouldn’t end well. I’d only meant to tell him a nice woman who could cook. That he’d enjoy a good meal at their house, but I never had the chance to explain.
The things his pa had done to him left scars too deep to stitch up with words. Someday, hopefully, he would meet a nice girl and fall in love. Not order one from the East. It would take a strong woman to turn him around, but there would be someone out there for him.
I spent the morning cleaning and laundering until it was time to head to the Krause’s. At least Teddy’s escort meant I could ride a real horse. Poor Copper was tired from her adventure yesterday.
We reached the front porch, and Fredrick appeared with his jolly smile from the barn. “Is your son? Pleased meeting you.”
Teddy dismounted and offered his hand. “No, I’m just a ranch hand.”
“Teddy is much more than just a ranch hand. He runs the place while my son travels. He’s the best.” If I didn’t know better, I’d think the back of Teddy’s neck turned red with my compliment.
“Nice to meet you, Teddy. I Fredrick. Coffee? Agatha, my daughter, has ready for guests.” Fredrick’s gaze settled on me still atop my horse. He quickly removed his hat and bowed his head. “Morning, Mary.”
Teddy studied us both with the intensity of a ranch boss on his cattle. “No. I should get back to work. When would you like me to return to escort you home? We are down two horses today due to shoe issues, so I need to take this one back with me.”
I had to force my eyes not to roll back with the indignity of the personal escort.
“I escort Mary home safe. After dinner, before dark?” Fredrick came to my side and outstretched his hands to help me down. The second his fingers wrapped around my waist, a zap of something undefinable shot through me, hijacking my breath with it.
“Sure. That’ll work,” Teddy said.
I looked to Teddy in shock at his agreement. The man never disobeyed an order from Jeb. He mounted his horse and turned toward the ranch. “Enjoy yourself, Mrs. Clayton. I think it’s time.” He tore out of there before I could ask what he meant by that.
“Agatha not ready yet for visitors. She was sick this morning. Come.” He held his elbow out for me to take it as if we were headed for a grand ballroom instead of to the barn. “Show you some of my homeland.”
“I’d like that.” I took his arm, and we entered the barn, but half of the barn didn’t have animals. Instead, more furniture and treasures filled the space.
“House too small. Hope to build more next summer.” He shut the barn doors, trapping the cold wind outside. “Didn’t plan living in Texas, but man liked furniture, so I make, and he sells.”
“You make these?” I let go of his arm and ran my hand down a beautiful, ornate table leg made of twisting branch-like wood with engraved fruits along the sides. “It’s beautiful.”
“Not beautiful like you, but I work hard.”
My breath caught at his words. Could a man really find me attractive? I’d always felt like I had a big scar across my face that showed my disgrace and all my failures.
“Did I upset you? Agatha warns I shouldn’t speak so freely.”
“No, you said nothing wrong. I like that you speak your mind. Although, I’m not sure you see so well.” I laughed my self-deprecating words away as if they meant nothing.
“I not that old. Married and had Agatha when I was child myself. You must’ve had son when you were young, too.”
“Yes, I was sixteen with my first.” My words caught somewhere between the gut-wrenching pain of yesterday and the fear of him hating me for the truth tomorrow.
“How old was daughter when she passed?” His question pounded the memory, dislodging it from its little dark place it had been safely stored in all those years ago.
“Only a baby,” I managed with a shudder.
“I make sad. See, Agatha right. I do this wrong,” he said in a wounded voice.
“Do what?” I fought the tears that misted my eyes and studied the next piece of furniture. A table with carved vines along the edges.
“Court you.” He toed the ground and held his hands behind his back, hunching forward.
“Me? You want to court me?” I asked, my throat tightening around my words. Why would he want to court me? I was a widower who’d been told for years how worthless I was. Sure, I’d grown to understand that William’s words were the bottle talking, but still. Did I dare hope a man would ever love me? Truly love me?
“See, I do this badly.” He took off his hat and set it on a post and then ran a hand through his thick, wavy hair. “You are the most beautiful woman around.”
“I’m the only woman around,” I teased, avoiding his words and the hope they brought with them.
“I’ve seen many women in my years. You are most beautiful. I loved my wife, but she is gone. Your husband gone, too. My daughter says we deserve to find happiness again. She says I court you.”
“So, this was Agatha’s idea.” I waved my hand dismissively. “You do not even know me. We only met a day ago.”
“That is why I court you, yes? That’s how we get to know each other.” Fredrick moved around the furniture but stopped two paces from me with raised brows. “We eat with Agatha and Helga, we talk, we take rides and talk more. We get to know each other.”
I backed away, the way I always backed away from William and any other man since then. A habit, one I’d probably never be able to break.
He held up both his hands. “You not want to court?”
My heart sped faster than my mind could process his words. “We eat with Agatha, we talk, and we can ride together, but courting is out of the question.” I swallowed hard, keeping my reasons to myself. I could never give a man power over me again. I’d done that once and learned one valuable lesson. Marriage was the one way to give a man all the power in your life. I’d never do that again.
“Why we not court? I am best and only man around.” He grinned. The man was charming, charismatic, and that thick accent did something to my legs to make them feel like they were made boneless.
“No, we will not court. We already had our marriages, and I know one thing. No man will ever have that much power over me again.” The words flooded out before I could stop them. “I should check on Agatha.” I raced from the barn. I needed air, to catch my breath. I did the right thing. Marriage was for people to have children and work together, I was past that time in my life. The ranch was perfect, I was well fed, taken care of, safe, and no man, besides my son who would never take advantage, had any say over me. I’d never marry again.
Never.
Chapter Four
Agatha set a pot full of a meat and dark-liquid mixture on the table. “We make traditional German dish Sauerbraten. It’s Papa’s favorite. We must get started, though, or dinner will be late.”
The clock on the wall showed one in the afternoon. How long would this meal take to prepare?
Helga perked up from her rocking chair by the fire. “Sauerbraten?”
Apparently it was a family favorite. I tied the apron around my waist and supervised Agatha’s work, afraid I’d ruin everything if I touched even a small spoon. The sound of Fredrick sawing and chiseling in the barn remained a constant reminder of our earlier conversation. I attempted to focus on Agatha and pushed the idea of courting far from my mind, but it was difficult to focus.
“I start this eight days ago. Meat soaks vinegar, bay leaves, and nutmeg during this time.” Agatha stoked the fire and set a new pot out.
“You say it’s Fredrick’s favorite?”
“Yes.” She drained the meat from the mixture and plopped it into the fresh pot along with a dollop of lard. “This make Papa happy.”
The thought of making Fredrick happy made my skin warm. I liked the idea of seeing him smile. Anything was better than the frown I’d caused earlier.
Agatha sprinkled salt over the meat. “You speak to my papa before you came inside r
ight?”
“Yes.” I didn’t want to talk about it, so I started chopping vegetables.
“No. No. Not like that.” Agatha abandoned her meat for a second and showed me how to cut the vegetables properly.
“You know my papa is a good man. He left his village despite that he had fought to save his people so many times. When I said I would be moving to the territories, Mama told Papa that she was tired of the conflict and it was time to go. He did not argue but came willingly. Even now, after we’ve lost so much, he does not blame me.”
“He shouldn’t. It isn’t your fault.”
“Yes, and the husband you had before. It wasn’t your fault he wasn’t a good man. Tell my papa what happened. He’ll understand. He is a patient man.”
“This would be easier if he wasn’t,” I mumbled. I didn’t want to talk about my late husband. It only brought a darkness over me, a shadow of doubt and unworthiness.
Helga snorted as if she understood what I was saying, but she obviously didn’t speak English, so I assumed it was the book that caused her strange sound.
“Easier does not mean better. Take this meal for instance. I could make something in twenty minutes and put it on the table, but with days of soaking the meat and hours of cooking, you will not just enjoy a meal but an experience. It will take you back to our village, and you will taste and smell what we did back home. Food can be something to share.”
“I never thought of a meal in that way.” I shrugged. “I’ve always thought of food as sustenance, not enjoyment.”
“Then we will have to show you a new way. Not just to eat but to live.” Agatha turned back to her meal and gave instructions each step of the way. I managed to learn and even took control of the cooking a few times.
When the meal simmered, she showed me how to make bread.
Fredrick opened the door and stepped inside. With a deep inhale he smiled and sighed. “Ah, I am home again.”
Helga looked up from her book and grumbled something in German, but Fredrick only swatted his hand in the air, dismissing her words.
“Wash up, Papa. It won’t be long now,” Agatha said.
I glanced at the clock, and to my shock we’d been working for four hours. “I never knew cooking could be fun. Thank you for taking the time to teach me.”
“It is my pleasure.” Agatha smiled. She was the kindest young lady I’d ever met in my life.
“Once I know how to cook better, I will have you and your family over when my son is home so that we can all meet.”
Agatha only served the food with a polite nod, as if she guessed that would never happen. Fredrick returned and sat at the head of the table while Helga hobbled over and plopped down in the chair next to me. Nerves prickled my insides with the thought of him trying our dish. Even though Agatha did most of the cooking, I still could’ve messed something up.
We all settled, and Fredrick held out a hand. “We pray.”
I slid my tiny hand into his massive fingers, and he squeezed gently. I took Helga’s bone-crunching hand with my other, and we all bowed our heads.
“Dear God, please bless meal. We thank you for our new friend, and we hope to share many more suppers together. Amen.”
Fredrick dug in without another word, and with his first bite, his eyes shot wide and his full mouth formed a chipmunk smile, which brought joy to my heart. I’d helped make him happy, and the thought that I had pleased him made me sit a little straighter.
I dared to taste a bite myself. The nutmeg, salty flavor took me to another place. I closed my eyes and could almost see a snow-covered village in a foreign land.
“You like my village Sauerbraten, yes?” Fredrick asked.
“Yes, it is delicious.” It was, too. It tasted different, savory. I felt like I was on an adventure to a foreign land.
“And you make this. See, you good cook.” Fredrick shoveled in a few more bites.
I couldn’t help but watch his enthusiasm mixed with table manners and a good spirit. He was different than the local cowboys, who slopped their food up from their plates. Different from my son, who never smiled or engaged in conversation, even though English was his native language. And Fredrick’s booming voice didn’t startle me. Instead, it brought me joy. Most of all, I didn’t cringe when he lifted his arm to take my hand to pray.
“I think you’ll be an excellent cook,” Agatha added. “We can make apple strudel tomorrow.”
“You spoil me.” Fredrick patted his belly. He was fit, lean, but muscular.
“Did we spoil you enough to have you play for us?” Agatha asked.
Fredrick nodded. “Yes, but only if we have time. I do not want to make Mary late for home. Teddy trusted me with her.”
Agatha stood and took her plate. “Then you finish eating. I clear the table.”
My chest tightened. “Fiddle?”
“Yes, Papa played the best in all our village,” Agatha said with an air of pride in her voice.
Helga glowered at me and then spouted something to Fredrick, who narrowed his gaze at her. When she pointed at me, I knew it wasn’t good.
“What did she say?”
“Nothing that I need to share. Ignore her. She’s a bitter old spinster.” Fredrick grumbled something to Helga. Her response was to shove from the table and stomp to a small opening around the side of the kitchen I assumed to be her room.
Agatha patted me on the arm. “Do not worry. Aunt Helga is old woman who wants to be alone.”
The soft sounds of my father’s violin carried over the years. I’d forgotten about our Sunday evenings by the fire, listening to him play.
Fredrick finished and disappeared into a room, returning with fiddle in hand. “Request?”
Agatha smiled. “Something from home that is uplifting.”
He looked toward the ceiling as if to find sheet music for what to play and then slid the fiddle under his chin and sent his bow sliding across the strings.
The tune echoed around the small home and entered my ears with a renewed spirit.
Agatha took my arm and twirled me around to the music. “We used to dance in the streets during a festival. Papa would play.”
We swung around and danced and laughed while Fredrick played a tune that sounded foreign, happy, and heartfelt. When he stopped, Agatha and I fell into our chairs, out of breath but still laughing.
“Play another, Papa, while I finish clean up.”
“No, please, sit. Allow me.” I gathered the plates and went to work washing in one bucket and rinsing in another. But this time Fredrick didn’t play a light and happy tune. It was deep, soulful notes that swirled around a person until they could almost see the color of the mood. Tears streaked down my face at the beauty I hadn’t heard since I was a little girl. It was a song not like one I’d heard before, yet familiar enough that when I closed my eyes I could see my father.
I didn’t even notice when the music stopped until a strong hand squeezed my shoulder. “I upset you with my music.”
With a swallow, I managed to speak in a raspy tone. “No. You gave me a gift.”
“Then why you sad? You’re too beautiful to be this sad.”
“Because I haven’t thought of my father in so long. You brought back so many memories. I could feel my father as if he stood by my side as you do now.”
“Your father a good man?”
“He was the best. I had almost forgotten.”
“Forgotten what?”
How could I tell him that I hadn’t remembered that good men, kind men, still existed in the world? Of course, Fredrick would say it plain and simple. Nothing was complicated to him. “Nothing. I was just missing him, I guess.”
Fredrick didn’t release me at first. He remained behind me, holding my shoulder as if to push further, but Agatha swooped in.
“I’ll finish these. Papa, you should get Mary home. We don’t want to upset anyone again.”
“That was my fault, not yours. I apologize. I promise that won’t happen again
.”
Fredrick took my coat from the hook and held it up for me. “We should go. I promised Teddy, and I never break my word.”
“That is true,” Agatha said and kissed her papa’s cheek.
Fredrick helped me up onto his massive horse and then joined me. His strong arms wrapped around me, providing extra warmth and stability. I’d never felt so safe and protected in a man’s arms before, except my father’s.
We rode with quiet between us for several minutes until Fredrick cleared his throat. “I know Agatha will be cross with me, but I must know. Your husband was bad man, yes?”
“Yes,” I said plainly.
“He’s dead, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I won’t have to kill him.”
Chapter Five
I stood on the front porch with a cup of coffee watching the morning sun rise. The ranch hands were busy repairing things and building things and doing things they tended to do that I’d never paid attention to since arriving here. Ranching didn’t hold an interest to me, but I was happy Jeb had found his passion.
Teddy brought out one of the horses and was checking its shoes when he looked up and spotted me. “You headed back over to the Krause place this morning?”
“Yes, but I’ll be fine on my own.”
Abandoning his work, Teddy removed his hat and walked over to the porch. “No, Mrs. Clayton, you know I can’t let you do that. But I’d be much obliged to escort you myself if you wish.”
“If you must. I’ll be headed over soon.”
Teddy lingered for a moment, studying his hat as if it had grown another head. “If you don’t mind me saying so, I’m happy you’ve found someone.”
I choked on my bitter, strong coffee. “What do you mean? I don’t have anyone. Agatha is teaching me to cook better, that’s all.”