by Danni Roan
Braden looked up from where he sat on the step his bare leg clasped in his hands as he bit back a very unmanly yelp, only to see the two women staring back at him.
“Braden, are you hurt?” Miss Ella cried, making his face flame red.
“No ma’am,” he said, his voice husky with the sharp pain. “Your bags aren’t damaged,” he added quickly looking toward Mrs. Simms and rolling down his pant leg as he noted her eyes on his bare calf.
“I wasn’t worried about the bags,” Marni said, lifting her eyes to the young man’s face as she realized she had been examining his very shapely leg. “Are you injured?”
Braden pushed himself to his feet shaking his head. “No ma’am, just bruised my knee is all,” he replied gathering the bags once more and turning to hobble up the stairs.
Miss Ella looked at Marni whose eyes were following Braden’s stiff form up the stairs and noting the young woman’s appreciation of her near neighbor’s son.
“Miss Ella, the tea is ready,” Minnie called drawing both women back toward the library and the table that was now laid with cups, saucers, plates, and a tray of cookies.
“Thank you, Minnie,” Ella said, taking Marni by the arm and escorting her into the room.
Braden placed the bags in the lovely room wishing he could bang his head against the beautifully wallpapered walls as embarrassment seared through him like a hot knife through butter. Of all the times to fall up a flight of stairs, this had to be the worst. Not only had the pretty young woman seen him flat on his face, but she had also been subjected to the sight of his gangly legs.
Running his hand over his face, Braden groaned, the pain of humiliation far greater than the throbbing in his leg. Walking to the window he pulled the sash open letting in a breath of fresh air that ruffled the soft lace curtains and sucked in a dose of reality with the fresh air.
It didn’t matter if Marni, he couldn’t think of her by any other name, had seen him prostrate on the stairs because a woman like her would be looking for something more than he could ever offer. She was too well dressed and too well-spoken for a common farmer like him.
Turning and looking at the heavy trunks and sturdy, well-made baggage, he knew that other than a chance meeting in town this would be the last time he would be in the presence of the prettiest girl he had ever seen.
Chapter 5
He that believeth on me, as the scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water. John 7:38
“Miss Minnie, I’ve finished putting everything in the violet room,” Braden said, as he hobbled into the kitchen a few minutes later. “I still need to pick up something from the depot for Mr. Walker then get back to the farm,” he added.
“I have you a little parcel all ready to take to your ma,” Minnie said, handing him a small box. “You step into the library with Miss Ella and say goodbye now,” she finished offering him a grin.
“I’m not in any real hurry,” Mrs. Simms was saying as Braden walked into the bright room where the two women were conversing. “I needed to get away from Tennessee and look for a new start. Everything back in Vale Hollow reminded me of Jordan, and all I lost upon his death,” she finished.
Clearing his throat to make his presence known, Braden crossed the threshold, his box in one hand. “Miss Ella, Minnie said you wanted to see me before I left,” he said, his eyes drifting to the dark-haired woman in the smart hat.
“I told her to make sure you didn’t leave before I gave you something for all of your hard work,” Ella said, rising and moving to her desk where she retrieved a few bills.
“I can’t let you do that Miss Milton,” Both Braden and Marni said at the same time, turning to look at each other in shock.
“I contracted Mr. Prater into bringing my things, and I’ll pay him,” Marni continued in a rush before Braden could protest.
“It was a pleasure to be of help,” Braden said, “I always liked driving to the Milton Farm, anyway. You keep your money for the future,” he finished with a polite nod.
“I insist,” Marni said, reaching into her reticule and pulling out a dollar. “I’m used to paying my own way, and don’t wish to be beholding to any man,” she said, thrusting the coin into his empty hand.
That hard set of the jaw was back on the woman’s face and her dark eyes flashed as Braden looked down on her. “A fella can do something just because sometimes,” Braden protested stubbornly. “No reason a thank-you won’t suffice.”
“I’m sorry,” Marni said, lifting her chin and facing off with the tall, handsome man, before her. “Either I’m paying, or I’ll get right back on the train and find a place where men are more reasonable. I’ve come too far to start that again.”
Miss Ella looked between the two combatants breathlessly noting the edge in her new ward's voice and worried that she would do exactly what she said. “Braden, take the money,” Ella said firmly. “Mrs. Simms is new to Pelican Rapids, and she doesn’t need to start her first day thinking the men in these parts are pigheaded. You did a good job today, and a workman is worthy of his hire,” she finished.
Braden ground his teeth looking first at Miss Ella and then back to the beauty glowering at him from the middle of the floor.
“Thank you, Mrs. Simms,” he snapped shoving the dollar, more than a day’s wages, into his pocket roughly. “Now if you’ll excuse me I have other work to attend to.” With his last words, Braden turned on his heel stomping painfully toward the front door and an escape from two glimmering brown eyes.
“Oh, my,” Ella said, placing her hand on her cheek and looking at Marni who stood tense and stiff in the middle of the room. “I’m afraid you’ve set that young man’s back up a bit,” she mused.
“I didn’t mean to offend,” Marni said her shoulders sagging, “but after what I’ve been through back home, I don’t want any man holding sway over me. I’ll pay for any work done on my behalf.”
Ella reached out, laying a hand on Marni’s sleeve. “After what you told me earlier, I understand, but if you hope to marry, you’ll need to think before you speak,” the matchmaker said. “Not every man is out to get something from you, and one day, I hope you’ll find someone who will love you for who you are.”
“I’m sorry,” Marni said, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of the past few days wash over her threatening to pull her under. “I’ll do my best to follow your direction,” she finished. “Perhaps I am a little defensive. If I see Mr. Prater again, I’ll apologize.”
Ella squeezed the young woman’s arm once more. “Why don’t you go have a rest before dinner? I’m sure you’re exhausted,” Miss Milton said, “I’ll call you in time to wash up.”
“I think that would be a good idea,” Marni agreed feeling tired down to her toes. Years of working in the grist mill, hefting bags of grain, or dumping bushels of corn had left her physically strong, but nothing had prepared her for the mental exhaustion that accompanied a life change like this.
“I’ll show you to your room,” Ella said kindly, turning and leading the way back toward the stairs. “Minnie and I prepared it for you earlier.”
Marilynn Simms cringed as she followed Miss Milton up the stairs toward her room, remembering how only a few minutes ago Mr. Prater had fallen in that exact spot carrying her luggage for her. Perhaps she had been too sharp with the man, but every time a man offered to do something for her, she was sure they were trying to trap her. Still it had been unfair to the young man who had been so kind and helpful. She wouldn’t even have known where to go if he hadn’t offered to transport her things.
“This will be your room,” Ella said, as they stepped into the lovely space decorated in soft violet covered wallpaper and various purple hues. “I want you to feel right at home,” she added drawing Marni’s dark gaze to her blue one. “You are welcome to stay here as long as you need,” she said, emphasizing her words. “I mean it.”
Marni smiled, hearing what the older woman said and accepting it. “Thank you,” she said, impulsively reaching o
ut and hugging Miss Ella. “I think this is exactly what I need right now.” Stepping back she smiled again. “I’m rather used to doing things for myself,” Marni continued. “Perhaps I can help out around the house, or even look for a job until you decide what to do with me.”
“You don’t need to do that,” Ella said with a smile, liking the determined and plucky nature of her newest client. “But if that is what you want, I won’t stand in your way. This is all about you finding what you need,” she added. “Now rest and I’ll see you at dinner in a few hours.”
Chapter 6
Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again. Matthew 7:1-2
Braden gave the old mare her head as he turned his wagon toward home the last rays of the sun slipped low on the horizon.
To his right, the light on the river turned the rapids to sparkling pinks, golds, and garish orange, but the beauty of the surroundings did nothing to dispel his irritation.
The coin in his pocket, still felt like a scorpion sting, as he rolled over the indignant insistence of Miss. Ella’s house guest.
“Nothin’ like being treated as a common servant,” he grumbled, ignoring the old mare who twitched her ears then lengthened her stride anticipating a good feed at the end of the day. “I would have helped her for nothin’,” Braden continued to grumble. “She needed someone to help is all, and I had time before I needed to get Mr. Walker’s delivery.”
Braden shook his head, the reins slack in his hand as he made the turn from Ottertail to Plum Lane then onto a narrow strip of road that led to his father’s farm. “Did I ask her for money,” the young man said again as the mare sprang into a slow gallop nearly toppling him from his seat. “Whoa, whoa,” Braden called gently pulling on the reins. “Slow down there Milly-Bell,” he chided. “You’re in a hurry to get to your dinner, but I’d like to get there at the same time.”
The horse slipped back into a steady trot, snorting indignantly at the delay as her driver once more took control.
“I suppose Miss Ella would have paid me either way,” Braden admitted. “I do a lot of deliveries and such around town, and I guess one would assume I would expect something for my efforts. But I didn’t agree on anything with Miss Marni. I mean Mrs. Simms.”
The old mare lowered her head as she trudged toward the barn at a slow trot, the spring leaving her step until the reins slackened once more.
Braden sat up a little straighter on the hard bench seat making the leaf-springs squeak. “Still, that pretty woman didn’t need to be so curt,” he mused turning the scene over in his mind again. “I suppose she’s rather tired from the journey,” Braden continued his words making the mare flick reluctant ears his way once more. “It must be hard traveling all the way from Tennessee on the train like that. Maybe she had to take a wagon from her home miles and miles just to reach a railhead.”
Braden’s voice lowered into a whisper as he imagined Marni, Mrs. Simms, setting out all on her own and coming to Pelican Rapids. A pair of sparkling dark eyes danced across his memory, and his lips tugged into a grin. “Maybe I won’t be so put out with her,” he said, feeling less disgruntled. “Maybe, if I put myself in her shoes a while, I’ll get over my annoyance and see it her way,” he finished slapping the reins to the old mare and sending her toward home at a hard gallop.
Braden put Milly-Bell up with a good feed and a quick rubdown before picking up the box of treats and heading for the house. His spirits had lifted considerably on the drive home and the fun gallop had only added to his good mood.
Walking from the barn he gazed at his parents’ home. The old log cabin didn’t look like much, but it was comfortable, and he had the entire second floor to himself. Over the years his father had improved on the humble home making it cozy, welcoming, and warm.
Stopping at the front door Braden took off his hat, dipping his hands in a pan of clean water by the door and scrubbing his face and hands before drying off with a towel suspended on a peg. His mother was strict about washing after a long day of work, and he had no desire to track added work into the house for her.
Laying his hand on the doorknob, Braden studied his home wondering how others would view it. Perhaps they would think it rustic, old fashioned, or sad, but it was home to him and the saltbox cabin, with its tall front and sloping back-roof looked pretty and inviting. In the past two years, Braden had been able to put real windows into the rest of the structure, pinning back the old shutters and painting all of the trim red, much to his mother’s delight. She loved red and bright colors of all kinds in her home.
The cabin itself was solid and well built, made to weather the harsh winters in the area or the sweltering heat of summer. Thick log walls and dense white chinking made the building weather tight and the thick layer of shake shingles provided insulation from above.
Since Braden could remember, he and his father had been improving the original structure, recently laying wood across the dirt floors and covering each room in shiplap siding, or other inexpensive wood.
“Braden is that you?” his mother’s voice filtered through the closed door, over the three paned window in the top half of the handcrafted door.
“It’s me,” Braden called pushing the door open and making the soft white curtains flutter. “Miss Minnie sent you a treat again,” he added with a grin.
Mrs. Prater looked up from the small tin sink in the kitchen on the other side of the house and grinned. “What did she send?” she asked her blue eyes bright. “She bakes the nicest things.”
Braden walked through the living area and into the kitchen stepping over to the sink and leaning down to kiss his mother's cheek when she offered it expectantly. “I don’t know what she sent,” he said, placing the box on the scrubbed wooden countertop. “I think she sent you some of that bread with the cheese baked into it and possibly some cookies.”
“That’s my favorite,” Adalissa Prater said, drying her hands on a towel. “We’ll have some bread with our beans tonight,” she finished opening the parcel and pulling out a paper-wrapped bundle of crisp brandy snaps. “Take one of these and a cup of coffee into the living room for your pa,” the gray-haired woman continued. “He’ll be pleased when he comes from the barn.”
As the youngest child of four, Braden had come late to the family, and as his siblings had married and headed off to other parts of the country, he had grown into a man, staying on at the family farm to help his aging parents and keep the home fires burning as they say.
Taking the tiny plate of cookies and a cup of strong black coffee Braden walked into the simple living area of the house. The downstairs only had three rooms-the kitchen at the back of the house, a living area with a small square heating stove and through a door to the right a small, but cozy bedroom on the left side of the kitchen extended out under the sloping roof. Perhaps it was a simple home, but it had always been filled with love.
“Braden,” Sven Prater stepped into the living room and grinned, his blue eyes filling with joy. “You’re home late,” the old man said. “I thought it best to milk the cow before she kicked down the barn,” he added with a teasing wink.
“I was headed out there myself,” Braden said, “but first Ma wanted me to bring you this. He handed his father the coffee mug then the plate. “Looks like Miss Minnie made brandy snaps and lemon cookies.”
“Now ain’t that a treat,” the old man said. “Ma’s got supper almost ready. You’d best finish up in the barn and come right back in.”
“I’ll go now,” Braden said, smiling at his father’s insistence. “I’m takin’ a cookie with me though,” he added snatching a delectable disc from the plate and racing through the door, his father’s laughter nipping at his heels.
Chapter 7
I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust. Psalm 91:2
Marni slipped into her long coat and stepped out into a crisp
fall day as the mist was still rising from the dew-covered grass. She had been at Miss Milton’s home for nearly a week, and she felt restless and out of sorts.
Over the past eight years, the girl of sixteen had turned into an independent and self-sufficient woman. As a new bride, she had cried herself to sleep every night after Jordan had gone off to join the boys in gray. Her mother-in-law, understanding the effects of loss as a widow of many years herself, had promptly put Marni to work in the mill filling her days with activity and purpose as the country struggled through growing pains that left many shattered and alone.
Days of hard work and having to manage the old mill for her new family had forged Marni into something new. A woman who could stand on her own and even resist the constant natterings of the less scrupulous men of her native state.
Over the past few days Marni had concentrated on settling into the routine of the Milton home, meeting Josiah, a pleasant young man with a serious and dedicated mind, and unpacking her most necessary items from her trunks, but even with some light housework, there was little for her to do in the well-managed household. Minnie managed the cooking better than she ever could, and everyone seemed versed in keeping the house in order.
Pulling on her gloves, Marni stepped down the stairs to the front drive and turned toward town. In several meetings with Miss Ella, Marni had poured out all of her hopes, desires, and wishes. Answering a set of questions designed to help the matchmaker find the perfect groom, but in reality, Marni wasn’t sure she wanted a new husband, only a new life.
Making her way to Plum Lane, Marni headed toward town. Miss Ella had assured her that the area was quite safe and that if she wished to stretch her legs with a walk, she was more than welcome, or she could borrow one of the horses from the barn. Josiah had suggested Fern for a morning jaunt, but Marni wasn’t comfortable with horses.