Violet laughed, and it was a delightful sound. It changed the solemn look on her face to something enchanting. Richard wanted to make her laugh as often as he could for the rest of her life. “I need to be getting ready for work, but will you go for a walk with me tonight, Violet? It seems to me that some proper courting is in order, and I can’t think of a better time to start.”
She smiled again. “I’d like that, Richard. And . . . thank you for accepting me as I am.”
“Accepting you? I couldn’t be more pleased. When we go for our walk, I’ll share with you some of the coursework I’ve taken, and we can see what we have in common. I quite liked my chemistry class.”
“You did? I’m not very good at chemistry, but I find it interesting.”
“Until tonight, then.” Richard stood, grabbed his jacket and buttoned it, then picked up his hat. “Have a good day, Violet.”
“You too.”
He left the house and closed the door behind him, his heart feeling lighter than it had in almost twenty-four hours. It had taken quite a bit of chipping to break through Violet’s shell, but now that he could see behind her mask, he believed they stood a real chance. If her biggest secret was the fact that she had a brain in her head, yes, they definitely stood a chance.
***
Violet laughed out loud as she washed the dishes, imagining a young Richard creeping down the street with someone else’s horse and buggy. Oh, she wished it was possible for her to see that for herself. She could just picture poor Mr. Green, confused and bewildered, wondering where his buggy had gone. She hoped Richard had many, many more such stories—she would love to hear them all.
Once the bread was baked, she made sure everything in the house was tidy, and then she walked over to Adele’s house. A neighbor boy had knocked on her door with a note an hour before, inviting her for a visit and giving directions to Adele and Liam’s house, and she was excited to go. It had only been a day since she’d seen her friends, but so very much had happened in that day, and she missed them.
When she arrived, she hugged each of the girls and Miss Hazel, then took a seat. They were all full of news and chatter, each sharing their initial impressions of the town, their cabins, and most especially, their husbands. Then Adele told the most appalling story. It seemed that a family of beavers had built a dam in the lake that was stopping up the flow of irrigation water to several properties downstream. Liam had decided to solve the problem by breaking up the dam and displacing the beavers from their home and all their hard work.
“Liam was all set to go out and destroy that dam, but I believe I’ve talked him out of it,” she concluded.
All the women were shocked. “Destroy the dam? That’s horrible,” Caitlyn said, and Violet nodded. Not much made her angry, but this . . . well, this and Mrs. Allan . . . definitely had the power to do it. She didn’t mind one bit adding her objections to all the others that had been shared.
The visit continued, every minute a delight. Violet was so glad that she wasn’t alone on this adventure, that she’d found real friends with the other two brides. It was such a shame that Miss Hazel would be returning home to Ottawa shortly—she would miss the older woman and her dear little quirks, especially when she spoke up and said they should name the beaver Bob. No one else she knew named wild animals.
Their little party was broken up when Liam arrived home. Violet had only glimpsed him the day before and hadn’t really spoken to him—she had no idea what sort of man he was typically, but the knowledge that he would willfully destroy the home of an innocent creature made her blood curdle when she saw him.
Violet, Miss Hazel, and Caitlyn said their goodbyes to Adele and thanked her for the visit, then prepared to leave the house. Caitlyn informed Liam that such visits would be common and that he should get used to them—that made Violet smile. Her smile disappeared, though, as she walked past Liam herself. Oh, all the things she wanted to say. She shouldn’t let herself become too outraged—she did have to live in the same town with him, after all, and he was the husband of her dear friend. But she had to say something or she wouldn’t be able to live with herself.
“We very much enjoyed our visit in your home, Constable O’Reilly. All of God’s creatures deserve a home, don’t you think?”
She left it at that and strode away with her head held high. With any luck, he understood what she meant to say, and that would give him even more motivation to leave the beavers alone. If he knew that they were all against this drastic action, it might sway him.
She picked up her skirts a little bit and quickened her pace. She had just realized that if Liam was home, perhaps Richard was too, and dinner wasn’t underway yet. It was only their second day of marriage—she didn’t want to disappoint him by making him come home to a house with no dinner on the table. The bread had turned out well, but that was hardly a meal.
Richard wasn’t home yet, thank goodness. She tied on her apron and pulled the chicken from the icebox. She had planned to bake it, but that would likely take too long. Instead, she grabbed a knife and tried to remember the proper way to chop it up.
It looked like the victim of some sort of horrible chicken massacre.
There had to be a way to fix this. She grabbed a pot and started throwing the boneless pieces inside. Then she took the pieces that still had bones and put them in the oven. She could use those the following day, and use the chicken in the pot for dinner that night. Two people couldn’t eat a whole chicken in one meal anyway, and this would save her time later. Satisfied with her solution, she brought the chicken in the pot to a simmer, then added in some carrots and potatoes. Every minute that ticked by brought dinner closer to being done, and once the kitchen filled with the aroma of chicken and spices, she felt better. Richard might not be fed the moment he walked through the door, but he would know it was coming.
He entered the house fifteen minutes later, and just as she had hoped, he paused and took a deep, appreciative sniff. “That smells wonderful,” he said as he took off his jacket. “I hope you didn’t wear yourself out too much cooking—I’ve been looking forward to our walk all day.”
“Oh, I’m not tired at all.” Violet smiled brightly. In truth, it was quite exhausting to run around the kitchen and pretend to be productive when she really had no idea what she was doing, but she figured he didn’t need to know everything.
“Good. I’m going to wash up. Thank you for what you’re doing.”
She smiled as he headed off. What a relief—she’d pulled that together just in time. She just needed to remember to take the chicken out of the oven in twenty minutes, cool it, and put it in the icebox.
When Richard came back, wearing a clean shirt and with his hair neatly combed, she had the table arranged with her wedding bouquet in a jar in the center. She had placed it on the mantel before, but it looked lonely over there.
“You should have a proper vase,” Richard said as he took a seat.
“Oh, I don’t know. The jar seems to be working fine.”
“But every home should have a vase, and if I’m going to bring you flowers on a regular basis, you’ll definitely need one.”
She smiled. “Do you plan on bringing me flowers on a regular basis?”
“Yes, I think I shall. Do you have any particular favorites? Bear in mind, we don’t have anything like a hothouse up here—be thinking, wildflowers and blooming weeds.”
She laughed aloud. Oh, it felt good to be herself with him and not worry about sounding too academic. “Well, I’ve always enjoyed fireweed, and I read that it grows quite well up here.”
“Yes, it does. I’ll go looking for some tomorrow. First, though, I need to taste this stew. My stomach wants to know why I’ve forgotten about it.” Richard bent his head and said grace, then took a bite. “Oh, this is good.”
“Miss Hazel taught me how this last week, but the bread is my specialty.” She passed him the plate, and he took a slice.
“If we ever have any trouble up here, I won�
�t be able to apprehend the guilty party—I’ll be too fat to waddle after them,” Richard said. “You’re spoiling me.”
“I thought that was my job.”
He set down his spoon and looked at her seriously. “Your job is to be happy. I’ve been thinking about this all day, Violet. Yesterday, you looked like a scared rabbit. I wondered if I’d done the right thing by dragging you clear out here and making you marry me when we’d only met a few minutes before. But then this morning, you opened right up like a blooming flower, and I saw the beautiful woman that you’d been too shy to show me before. Yes, I appreciate a good meal and I’ll be glad for whatever tasks you do, but it all comes down to one thing—I want you to be happy.”
Violet was so stunned, she almost couldn’t speak. “Really?” she finally managed to squeak out.
“Yes, really.”
She studied his face. It was more than handsome—it was kind, and he was looking at her with genuine friendship. He was offering her something she’d never dreamed about, and it took her breath away. Yes, she could learn to love this man. She was sure of it. “Thank you,” she said at last. It seemed an insignificant thing to say when compared to his offering, but it was all she could manage.
“You’re welcome. May I have another slice of bread?”
“Of course,” she said, nudging the plate closer to him. Her heart was overflowing—she’d get up and slice him the whole loaf if he wanted it.
“So, you said something curious a moment ago,” she went on, needing to change the subject. If she dwelled on his kindness much longer, she’d be a blubbering mess of tears, and that wouldn’t do. “You said, if you ever had any trouble up here. Don’t you have criminals and whatnot to catch?”
He laughed. “It’s been pretty quiet around here lately, but we do have some excitement from time to time. Two men passing through got into a brawl out on the street, and one pulled his pistol and shot the other. They were in business together and were arguing over profits or something. That rattled the town for a little while, having something so gruesome happen almost under everyone’s noses.”
“I bet,” Violet replied. She should probably be aghast to hear such a story, but it was actually interesting. She wondered what had led the two men to such violent acts, and she also wondered if they’d left wives and children behind. She couldn’t help it—she always imagined more to the stories she heard. “It doesn’t sound like murder is common up here.”
He shook his head. “We hardly ever have a murder. We primarily deal with relations between the Inuit and the white men, and we sometimes settle disputes over hunting territories and whatnot.”
“There are hunting territories?”
He laughed again. “To listen to these people talk about it, there are. If that man steps foot on my soil one more time . . . No, just property lines. If you’re out in the woods, it’s all pretty much up for grabs.” He spooned up the last of his soup. “Let me help you wash up so we can take our walk.”
Violet nearly opened her mouth to protest, but then she paused. He’d said he wanted her to be happy, and it would make her happy to work side-by-side with him. “All right,” she said. “Would you please clear the table?”
“Of course.”
He took care of that task while she checked the chicken in the oven. It looked perfect, so she set it out to cool, then joined him at the sink.
“I heard something today that concerned me,” she said. She’d meant to bring it up on their walk, but this was so cozy, working together, that she thought it might be a good time.
“Oh? What’s that?”
“Adele says that Liam wants to tear down Bob’s house.”
Richard raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I know anyone named Bob. And why would Liam want to tear down his house?”
“That’s just it. I don’t understand either.” Violet gave the plate she was holding an extra scrub. “He’s not dangerous, he’s not bothering anyone—why can’t he live in peace? I’m afraid I may have spoken sharply to Liam, but I don’t regret it. He had to know how I feel.”
“I don’t understand.” Richard paused, his dishtowel in midair. “Are you saying that Liam is trying to throw someone out of their house?”
“Yes!” Violet handed him the plate. “And it’s not fair! Bob built that house from scratch using his intuition and the tools nature gave him. It must have taken forever—I read that it takes twenty minutes just to cut down one tree. Can you imagine?”
Richard’s brow was still furrowed. “Has Bob come down to the Mountie office to file a complaint? If Liam’s acting illegally, which seems so unlike him, we should be looking into it officially.”
Violet shook her head. “Bob can’t file a complaint, Richard. Don’t be silly.”
“I don’t understand how I’m being silly … why can’t he file a complaint?”
“Because beavers don’t speak English!” Gracious. Why was he being so obtuse?
Richard tilted his head to the side. “Bob’s a beaver?”
“Yes! Haven’t you been listening?”
“I was actually listening quite intently, and I don’t remember you saying one word about a beaver.”
Violet paused, then started to laugh. “You’re right. I never did. I’ll start again. Bob, who is a beaver, is in danger of losing his home. Liam wants to tear it down.”
Richard chuckled and shook his head. “That makes so much more sense. Two things—first off, how do you know the beaver’s name is Bob?”
“Miss Hazel named him.”
“Ah. I should have known. Second, we need to talk about beavers and their dams.” He took the last dish from Violet’s outstretched hand, dried it, and put it away. Then he led her over to the sofa.
“Liam’s absolutely right,” he said once they were seated. “That beaver dam is hurting the people who rely on that water for their upkeep. If we don’t do something, crops won’t grow and children will go hungry. I’m sure you understand the importance of keeping children fed.”
“Of course I do, and Adele presented Liam’s arguments quite comprehensively. I just can’t stand the thought of those poor animals being displaced.”
“That’s one of the harsh realities of living out here, Violet. We interact with nature on a level most townspeople never experience, and it can be difficult. I’ve had to shoot animals who were caught in a trap but then chewed off their own leg to get free, and they’re so crazed with pain that shooting them is a kindness. We can’t solve everything for everyone.”
She sighed. She should have known all this—she wasn’t naïve about nature and the hard things that happened in the wild. She just wished it didn’t have to be that way.
“You’re right, and I’ll try not to dwell on it. I still want to see about finding a solution, but in the meantime, how about that walk?”
Chapter Six
Richard did his best to hide his smile as Violet put the chicken in the icebox and grabbed her shawl. The brides were up in arms about a beaver, were they? He supposed he understood why—they all seemed like compassionate women, and compassionate women seemed to care equally about all creatures and not just the human ones. He was just grateful that Violet had no qualms about cooking meat. Curtis had discovered that Caitlyn was a vegetarian, and that had certainly been an unpleasant surprise.
He was sure that in time, the brides would come to understand the necessity of interfering with Mother Nature. For now, he would concentrate on getting to know Violet better.
He hadn’t anticipated the reaction she’d have when he told her he desired her happiness above everything else. He’d thought it would please her, but instead, she acted as though he’d given her the whole world on a gold charger. Maybe he had—he didn’t know enough about her yet to understand her world, just that she had never been truly accepted. If he could give her that gift, it would likely be the best one he ever gave.
They stepped outside, and he pulled the door closed behind them. Violet looked around, then
up at the sky. “I was so tired last night, I didn’t notice how light it still was at bedtime,” she said. “I only noticed when the sun came back up.”
“You’ll have to stay up until eleven or midnight if you want to experience actual darkness,” Richard replied.
“Oh. Then I’ll have to make special plans to see the stars.”
“Yes, but I tell you what. I have next Monday off. We’ll stay up late Sunday night, and I’ll take you to a hill near here that will give you a nearly unobstructed view. If you lie back on the grass, it’s almost as if you’re flying right up into the sky.”
She turned to him with a grin. “It’s as though you suddenly know me so well.”
“I learn quickly.”
Their hands brushed against each other as they walked, and he decided to take a chance. He took her hand and held it, and she didn’t object or pull away. It was nice, strolling along like that, hand in hand as though they’d known each other for years and were completely comfortable with each other. That would come. He just had to be patient.
“What are the constellations you see the most clearly up here?” Violet asked.
“Orion is one of them, and the Inuit have a story about it. Would you like to hear it?”
“Of course.”
She seemed to light up when he told her a story. He’d have to repeat the experience often. “I’ll tell it to you as it was told to me not long after I got here. Four great warriors were tracking a bear. To get away, the bear climbed up into the sky, and the four men followed it. As they climbed, one of the men lost his glove, and he went back down to the earth to find it. His friends continued to chase the bear, and when you look into the night sky, you can see them still—the bear out in front, and the three men behind.”
“The stars of Orion’s belt,” Violet guessed.
“That’s right. And supposedly, the man who came back is the one who told the story so we would all know the fate of those three men.”
“It’s rather too bad that they’ll never catch the bear,” Violet replied. “So much time and effort for something that will never reward them.”
RNWMP: Bride for Joel Page 4