“Well, you can hope all you want, but you’ll have only sons and seven of them. That’s how my family works.”
“I suppose.” She sat down at the table next to him, sighing heavily. “I do want babies. I just . . . I hoped for a little while longer. I wanted time to settle. Is that so hard to understand?”
Why he felt like she was rejecting him and not the child she carried, he didn’t know. “Well, you don’t exactly have that choice. You’re expecting now. When are you going to stop working?”
“Stop working? I should be able to finish out the schoolyear. Or at least teach until April. Why would I stop now? I just got Josiah Wendt to write his name!” She’d never thought the child would be able to do it, and now his mother was gloating.
“I told you the boy was a genius,” Mrs. Wendt had told her.
Beulah didn’t bother to tell the woman that her son was the very last in the class to be able to write his name and that even the seven-year-olds were writing theirs before Josiah. She knew the woman would only get angry with her.
“It’s about time.” Jack shook his head. “I don’t want to have to fight about this. If you want to keep teaching until the baby is born, then that’s just fine.”
She frowned. “What about next school year? We talked when I first arrived in Texas about getting a nanny for the days I was teaching.”
“You’d let a stranger raise your sons instead of seeing to that task yourself? We don’t need you to make money, so you should stay home and raise my boys.”
“I am sorry you feel that way, but I was very clear in the letters I wrote and after my arrival that I would be teaching school, not being a full-time mother. I don’t expect you to understand my feelings on the matter, but I don’t believe I can give up all my dreams and aspirations, simply because I’m going to bear a child.”
“You’re serious? You really don’t think you need to stop teaching?”
“I’m very serious.”
He frowned at her. “I’m not going to fight you on this, but I do think you’re wrong. Our children should come first.” With those words he stalked from the room, heading out to the stable. He had planned to take the day to spend with her, so no one was expecting him. He saddled his horse and went for a ride, inexplicably angry with the stubborn woman he’d married. Why couldn’t she be the pliant woman he’d always dreamed of? Beautiful, intelligent, and easy to manage. Was he asking for too much?
Beulah put her face in her hands and sobbed. She’d never been emotional, but there was something about him storming out the way he did that really got to her. She cried and cried.
When she finally lifted her head and dried her tears, Mrs. Buchanan brought her a cup of hot tea and some cookies she’d made the day before. “He’s only ever known one way of life, and that involved his mother being home with him every day. You are asking things of him that he never imagined were possible.”
Beulah shrugged. “I’ve never known the kind of life he has. I was raised in an orphanage, and though the food was plentiful and there was love, it could never be the same as growing up in a loving home with your own parents. I wish he could understand that I’m different from him and I will react differently to things.”
Mrs. Buchanan nodded, but she knew it was time to call in the big guns. The couple she was working for had hit a wall, and it was time Mary McClain came and talked to her daughter-in-law. “I’m stepping out for a short while. I’ll be back to see to the rest of my chores.”
After she was gone, Beulah sat quietly, wondering how she was going to handle Jack’s anger. He had argued with her a bit before they married, but never had he really left to do anything consumed with anger as he just had been. Why couldn’t she have married a man who was reasonable and understood logic?
Beulah went upstairs and brought down her schoolbooks. She’d promised not to work that day, but what did it matter when he was gone anyway? She’d get ahead on her planning and paper grading, and hopefully she would have more time to spend with the stubborn idiot as soon as he was done sulking.
It was much later when Mary McClain came into the house, sitting at the table with Beulah. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
Beulah shrugged. “I can’t. He’s your son, and you’ll always take his side.”
“He is my son, but don’t you think that means I know his faults better than anyone? You became my daughter the moment you married him, and as my daughter, I want you to tell me when you’re upset. What happened?”
Before she could think better of it, Beulah poured out the whole story. “I made it clear that I was coming here to start a school in my letters, and I even started talking about a school on my first day here. Why is he so surprised now to find out that I’m devoted to the school?”
Mary frowned. “I didn’t share your letters with him. You see, I put the ad in the paper for him to get a mail-order bride, and then when your letter came, I gave it to him, but he tossed it back at me and told me to do what I would. So I did, and you’re here. He had no idea you were planning to start a school until the day you stepped off the train.”
“But I also got the impression he didn’t care one whit about me until I got off the train. Am I wrong?”
“Jack has always known exactly what he was looking for in a bride. He wanted a woman who was pretty, intelligent, and would do what he said. He got two out of three of those things with you, and I’ve told him over and over to count himself lucky to get that.”
Beulah sighed, shaking her head. “Why would he think he’d find a woman who was both intelligent and biddable? Doesn’t he understand that a woman who has the ability to think for herself is going to be less likely to do whatever a man tells her to do blindly?”
“You would think he’d know that, but apparently my son is a special kind of stupid, along with having the manners of a goat.”
Beulah bit back a giggle. “His manners have been much better since we’ve married. I never should have said that to you.”
“Oh, trust me, you made my day when you said that. It told me you were exactly what I thought you’d be. Intelligent and not willing to put up with any of his nonsense. And that’s exactly who you are. You please me, my daughter.”
Beulah looked at her mother-in-law, and the tears started streaming again. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve someone like you in my life. I suppose putting up with Jack’s nonsense makes it so I deserve some sort of reward, though . . .”
Mary laughed. “You are a very special lady, and you will make a wonderful mother to my grandsons. And now that you’re expecting the first of them, we have to start thinking about how you will decorate the nursery. I need to start sewing a quilt for him.”
“Decorate the nursery? You don’t want to leave that up to me. I’m likely to put up pictures of human anatomy so I can show him what he needs to learn to become a doctor.”
Mary frowned. “Perhaps some barnyard animals would be better for a nursery?” Mary took a sheet of paper from the pile in front of Beulah and reached for the younger woman’s pencil. “Perhaps like this?” She quickly sketched a mare along with a foal. The foal’s nose was brushing up against his mother’s.
“That’s beautiful! I didn’t know you could draw like that!”
Mary smiled. “I have hidden talents. How about you let me paint a mural on the wall of the nursery, and you just keep up your studying.”
“I would be forever in your debt. Thank you for coming over to talk to me, Mary. I needed that.”
“That’s what mothers are for.”
Chapter Seven
When Jack came in late that afternoon, he was dripping wet from a sudden rainstorm. He’d ridden all the way to Nowhere and spent thirty minutes talking to an odd man who made his home in the woods. He’d never met him before, but the man was a legend in that area. His name was Cletus, and that’s all anyone really knew about him.
He walked into the house, dripping water everywhere he went. He looked at his
wife, sitting so calmly at the table working on her lesson plans. At least that’s what he had to assume she was doing. She was sitting with schoolbooks spread around her and a piece of paper and a pencil at her side. “Please don’t drip everywhere,” was all she said to him.
For a moment, he thought about stomping off his feet to leave as much of a puddle as he could, but he knew it would be Mrs. Buchanan who would be left to deal with the mess, not the woman he was still angry with. “I’ll do my best.”
She glanced at him quickly before looking down again. “You should get a hot bath. You don’t want to catch your death.”
He looked at her for a moment as if trying to ascertain if she would even care about his untimely demise, but he thought better of saying something. “I will.” He went up the stairs and quickly removed his soggy clothing, leaving them in a corner of the bedroom to be dealt with by someone who was not him.
Thirty minutes later, he was back downstairs, clean and dry. He sat at the table, calmly looking at her. “Are you still angry with me?”
She shrugged. “I don’t think angry is the right word for what I’m feeling. Hurt is better. Or maybe annoyed, but angry really isn’t it.”
“Well, I’m still angry, if you care.”
“I do care. I don’t want you to be angry with me, but I haven’t gone back on my word in any way. I’m here doing exactly what I said I would do.” After her talk with his mother, she’d sent a long letter to Wiggie back in New York, wanting to get advice on exactly what to do from the other woman. Wiggie always knew what to do.
“I just want you to care a little bit more about the future of my family. That baby you’re carrying means everything to me, and it seems to mean less than nothing to you.”
“That’s not true!” Beulah shook her head. “The baby is very important to me, because it’s a part of you. But that doesn’t mean that I think I should alter the entire course of my life and change all my plans that I have simply because I am carrying him. I will be the best mother I can be, and I don’t want you to think otherwise, but the truth is, I’ve never been a mother, and not only have I never been a mother, I’ve never even had a mother. How am I supposed to know the correct way to act now that I’m carrying a child inside me?” She raised her hands, palm up as if questioning him. “I never even dreamed I’d have a child!”
He frowned at that. “I guess I never really thought about you never having a mother. You should spend more time with mine. She’ll be able to teach you all the right ways to do things.”
She frowned at him. “You know there are multiple right ways to be a parent, don’t you? Just because your mother did it one way doesn’t mean that any other way is incorrect.”
“I don’t know about that. My mother was perfect in everything she did, as far as I can tell.”
“What about your father? Was he perfect as well?”
“Sure. If you had parents, I’m sure you would think what they did was perfect as well.”
“I was left on the steps of a foundling home, in a basket, when I was a few days old. Someone left me there, and I have to assume it was a parent. How could I possibly think their actions were perfect?”
“Are we ever going to be able to see eye to eye on these things? I know our pasts are different, but you’d think that we’d at least understand one another. Why don’t we?”
Beulah leaned back against her chair. “I really don’t know. I’ve read book after book on the proper way to deal with children, but they were always from a teacher’s standpoint and not a parent’s. Maybe I should find some books on how to parent. That seems to be my way of learning everything.”
“Maybe you should just spend some time with the parents of some well-behaved children. My niece Alice is in your class. Have you thought maybe you could spend some time with my brother Joshua and his wife, Gertie?”
“I suppose I could. I barely know them, though.”
Jack warmed up to the idea when she didn’t refuse to listen to him immediately. “I’ll invite them for supper tomorrow night. You can get to know them and watch how they are with their children. Does that sound good?”
Beulah knew it wouldn’t matter if it sounded good to her or not. It was what he’d decided was the best course of action, and she didn’t have any strenuous objections. She’d go along with his plan because it would please him, and despite what he obviously thought, she did want to please him. “That would be lovely.”
He nodded, deciding he would talk to his brother after church the following morning. “I’ll ask him then.”
“What would you like me to fix for supper?” Sunday was Mrs. Buchanan’s day off, and the prospect of cooking for company was not a pleasant one. She wanted to spend as much time resting as she could, and having company would not facilitate that.
He shrugged. “Whatever you want to fix.”
It was all she could do not to throw something at him. “So you get to decide we’re going to have company. You get to choose who we’re having over, and I get to decide what to make and do all the work? You could at least tell me what to fix!” She stood up and pushed her chair in. “I’m going to take a nap before supper.”
Jack watched her go, wondering what he’d done now. He’d tried to be civil. He’d suggested a way for them to learn to be good parents. Why wasn’t she meeting him halfway?
He got up and stalked back outside, barely noticing the rain had stopped. He went into the stable and talked to his favorite gelding. Anything was better than being in the house with his shrew of a wife.
He’d been in there for about twenty minutes when he heard footsteps behind him. “Sounds like you’re having a hard day, son.”
His father stood behind him, reminding him of what it was to be a good husband. He was certain his parents had never fought. Especially not the way he and Beulah were fighting. “I’ve had better. The woman makes no sense to me at all.”
His father smiled, leaning against a stall. “You know, our first year of marriage was an absolute disaster. I was sure your mother would leave me a dozen different times.”
“What? You and Mother have a perfect marriage.”
“No, we really don’t. We have a good marriage now but only because we’ve been working on our marriage for close to forty years. You’ve been married a little over two months. That’s not enough time to even get used to living with someone else, let alone learn all of their habits. Good marriages take time. More time than I care to admit.”
Jack frowned. “I thought she was the perfect wife. She’s beautiful and intelligent, but she doesn’t listen to me. I tell her to do something, and she laughs in my face. It’s like she doesn’t realize that I’m the one who is in charge in this marriage of ours.”
His father laughed. “Oh, you are, are you? You have to realize that by marrying an intelligent woman, you’ve married someone who is used to thinking for herself. You’ve married someone with opinions and thoughts. Someone who will think that her way should be listened to at least as often as not. She has some good ideas simply because she’s intelligent.”
“Well, I want her to be smart, but not too smart.” Jack sighed. “I guess I should be thankful for the wonderful woman I’m married to instead of wanting her to change to be more like my ideal of what she should be.”
“Yes, you really should. You’ve found a woman who cares about you and your feelings, and she’s a darn good teacher from what everyone is telling me. She loves what she does, and she has a passion for things outside your house. When I first married your mother, she’d been painting portraits for years, and she was used to making a little money of her own. When I told her that her only focus after we married was to be me and our sons, she laughed in my face. She told me she was going to fulfill the commitments she’d made before marrying me, and that was that.”
“Did that make you angry?”
“Oh, yes. I was so angry, I could have spit, but I didn’t because I felt the need to respect the woman my heart had chose
n as well. So I did respect her, and we gradually worked things out. By the time our third son was born, she had stopped painting portraits for the most part. She still painted you boys, of course, but she wasn’t painting for money any longer.”
“Do you think Beulah will ever get to the point that she’s not feeling the need to work outside the home?” Jack asked. He wanted his wife there when he got home, waiting with his slippers. Why did she feel the need to be sitting there working on schoolwork all the time? He’d heard other teachers did their preparation and grading during the school day. Why did she always bring her work home with her?
“I don’t know. But I do know that she’ll be happier if she comes to the conclusion that she wants to stay home and be with the children on her own and she doesn’t feel like you’re trying to force the issue.” His father clapped him on the shoulder. “I promise it does get easier as the two of you get to know one another better. You’ll find that you get through these little obstacles along the way, and you don’t remember why they seemed like such a big deal to start with.”
“I hope you’re right, Father, because right now all I can think about is sending her back to where she came from and finding one of those brainless ninnies from church and marrying her instead.”
Mr. McClain threw back his head and laughed. “You really think you want to be married to a brainless ninny? Then why didn’t you settle for one to begin with? There were half a dozen who were willing, but you were always set on someone who could talk to you. And argue with you. You made the right choice. It may not feel like it today, or even tomorrow, but eventually, you’ll know I’m right.”
“I hope you are right. I don’t know what to do at the moment, but I’m sure it’s because we don’t know each other as well as we should. I should have taken time to court her like she asked. Instead, I kissed her and told her we weren’t waiting.” Jack shook his head. Perhaps his beautiful, intelligent wife was right about some things. He didn’t want to admit it to her, though. She’d never let him live it down.
Beulah's Brains: A McClain Story (The Alphabet Mail-Order Brides Book 2) Page 6