Melody

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Melody Page 4

by Caroline Clemmons


  He shifted from one foot to the other. “Um, good morning. I see breakfast is almost ready so I’ll wait to shave.” He hung his jacket on the back of his chair and set the shaving supplies on a wall shelf beneath an oval mirror.

  She opened the oven and removed a pan of golden biscuits. After setting the pan on the table, she set a platter of ham beside the bread.

  She didn’t look at him. “I didn’t know how you like your eggs so we’re having them scrambled.”

  “Actually, that’s my preference.” He sat at the table.

  When she’d set the bowl on the table and was seated she nodded at him. “Time for you to say the blessing.”

  He sat frozen. Not since he’d lost Jenny and the children had he uttered a prayer. Did he remember how? Did God remember him?

  Melody sent him a disapproving glance. “If you’ve lost your voice, take another swallow of coffee. Maybe that’ll loosen your tongue.”

  Cheeky woman. He glared at her before he bowed his head and offered a brief blessing.

  She pulled her napkin across her lap. “Do you usually eat a larger breakfast than this? I could include fried potatoes tomorrow if you wish.”

  He spooned half the eggs onto his plate before passing the bowl to her. “Most of the time, I have coffee and anything left over from supper. If nothing was left, then I’d have crackers or a chunk of bread with cheese. This is a welcome improvement. If the clinic is busy I sometimes miss lunch.”

  She didn’t say anything while they ate. In fact, she hadn’t glanced his way.

  He leaned toward her. “Look, I’m sorry about what I said last night. You were right and I didn’t specify enough details about the nurse. When we came in, I was tired and nervous.”

  Her glance was brief and inscrutable before she looked at her plate. “Thank you. I’ve thought about our situation. I believe we should wait until Christmas to decide if we want an annulment or to remain married. That means you continue to sleep in the spare room. By Christmas, you’ll understand whether I can learn what you wish or not. I’ll know more people in Angel Creek in the event you wish to rid yourself of me.”

  Whew, the way she said ‘rid yourself of me’ singed his hide. He was grateful she’d consider annulment. All the same, waiting until Christmas to sleep with his wife was a rotten idea. But, if he slept with her, there could be no dissolving the marriage. Why couldn’t he make up his mind?

  “That’s… well, harsh, isn’t it?”

  She sent him a glare that would melt metal. “Not in light of what you said last night. I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment. In spite of what you think, nursing my grandmother required many skills.”

  No way was he arguing that subject again. “Today, you should remain here and unpack your trunks. I’m sure you’re still tired from your journey and might need to rest. Hank will be in the clinic to help me today.”

  “Who is Hank?”

  “Hank Daniels is a young man who wants to become a physician. He apprentices with me. He lives with his parents nearby. If there’s a patient in the clinic overnight as there is now, he spends the night there.”

  Nick finished his meal and dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. He still weighed the pros and cons to postponing the consummation of their marriage when she captured his attention.

  She laid a hand on either side of her plate. “Are we agreed that we will sleep in separate rooms until Christmas?”

  He waited a few seconds before nodding. “I suppose if that’s what you prefer then I can go along with the plan—unless we reach a different understanding before then.” He pushed away from the table and prepared to shave.

  “What I’d prefer is a husband who wanted me for myself. Since I’m not what you consider suitable, this plan will protect both of us.”

  Why did she have to go on and on about his comments last night? He’d apologized, hadn’t he? He lathered up his face and shaved as quickly as possible.

  In the mirror he saw she watched him. “Have you never seen a man shave?”

  “No. Does it hurt?”

  “Not unless I slip and cut myself.” He wiped his face and poured out the water. Since he was kept out of his bedroom, he left his shaving supplies on the kitchen shelf. After donning his jacket, he bid her goodbye.

  She followed him to the kitchen’s side door. “What should I do about lunch? Will you be here or at the clinic?”

  “On Saturdays I only see patients until one—unless there’s an emergency.” He headed for the clinic. Today it offered a haven.

  Melody couldn’t deny she was disappointed. At least she’d gotten details settled about sleeping arrangements. She wondered exactly what he meant by reaching a ‘different understanding’. Surely he didn’t think he was irresistible.

  She washed the dishes and tidied the kitchen. After living in the small kitchen annex for several years, this house was heavenly. Nothing compared to her former home, of course, but this one was standing. There she went again comparing things to Charleston when she’d said she wouldn’t.

  After placing another log on the parlor fire, she went to check her trunks. The fire was laid in the bedroom fireplace so she ignited it. Carefully she removed each item from its wrapping to insure nothing was broken.

  The little portraits of her grandparents and her parents would go on the mantel. Her family Bible could go on the parlor table by the window. Silver candlesticks would look nice on the parlor mantel. Each item carried memories.

  Entranced in unpacking, she was surprised when Nick returned.

  Now he’d think she couldn’t even manage a household. “I’m so sorry your dinner isn’t ready. I was involved in placing everything and lost track of time.”

  He stood staring around the parlor, a pleased expression on his face. “I knew a woman’s touch would improve the room, the entire house.” He nodded. “Now this looks like a home.”

  “I have to find places for a few more things.” She clasped her hands in front of her chest. “The parlor is cheerier, isn’t it?”

  The silver service stood pride of place in the hutch. On each side were the china pieces she’d been able to hide. Though he couldn’t see, she’d placed her family’s silver cutlery in the hutch drawers. She’d set out vases, small paintings, the Bible, antimacassars on the chairs and sofa, and arranged other small collectibles from her family here and there. The rooms had taken on a different atmosphere.

  “Why don’t you take off your apron and we’ll go to the Eatery for lunch and then we can shop for your coat at the Mercantile?”

  “Really? I’d love that.” She patted her hair. “I’ll put up my hair, touch up my appearance, and get my cape.” She removed her apron and hung it on a hook in the kitchen before hurrying to the bedroom.

  When she returned, he was walking around the room, picking up first one thing and then another. “I wonder if my parents would send me some of our family mementos to display.”

  “Are they still in Pennsylvania?”

  “Yes, although I’ve tried to convince them to move here. They want to be certain I’ll remain before they sell and move so far. I can’t fault them for that.” He offered his arm. “Shall we go?”

  “You’re being very nice when I didn’t have your dinner prepared.”

  “No one could accuse you of wasting time.” He appeared to assess the blue dress she wore. “You have many clothes?”

  “A couple of friends my size each gave me a dress when our home burned. You saw one yesterday and this is the other.” It was faded from being laundered many times.

  “Ah, so you’ll need clothes. There’s a dress shop but the Mercantile has a few clothes and fabric in case you sew.”

  “Southern Belles may not know how to do many practical activities but we can sew a fine seam and embroider. Most can also crochet and knit. Some can tat lace but I can’t. What I can do is plan an afternoon tea for fifty, an elegant dinner for twenty, and a ball for three hundred.”

  He laughed. “There’s
a party scheduled for Christmas and I heard there was a church social just before I arrived. We’ve not had a ball in town since I’ve been here. Perhaps you can introduce one.”

  He laughed again. “I don’t know about three hundred people, though. Frankly, I’m certainly counting on the town growing. For now, though, you’ll have to start with smaller numbers—much, much smaller.”

  They reached the Eatery and went inside. Most tables were occupied.

  Nick steered her to one in the corner. “Saturdays are busy. Folks who live out a ways come into town for supplies.”

  The same waitress who’d been there last evening hurried over. “Sorry, there’s nothing left but beef stew. Comes with biscuits and a slice of pie.”

  Nick met Melody’s gaze. “I believe I’ll have the beef stew. What about you?”

  “Sounds perfect. Could I have milk to drink?”

  The waitress grabbed a coffee pot and rushed to a table where a diner signaled for more coffee.

  Melody scanned the restaurant but none of her friends were present. “Do you have a busy practice?”

  “When the weather is like this I do. Haven’t been here in winter, of course. When we get snowed in, I figure that’s when I’ll play cards or read. All things considered so far, I’m pleased.”

  “That’s good. I’m sure people appreciate that you’re providing overnight care for patients who require monitoring”—she leaned forward to whisper—“even if you’re not Dr. Collins.”

  He sent her a conspiratorial grin. “I hope so. As the town grows, there’ll be more need. I’ll be ready.”

  “Is Hank going to practice with you or go somewhere else?”

  He tapped a finger on the table. “He plans to stay right here. He’s young so who knows if his plans will change? His parents are hoping he’ll live here.”

  When they’d eaten the last bite of apple pie, Nick pushed back from the table. “Shall we go to the Mercantile? I’m afraid they’ll sell out of appropriate coats if we wait very long.”

  Chapter Seven

  The store was the equivalent of across the street and less than half a block’s walk from where they’d eaten. Horses were tied at the rail in front. Wagons lined the street so she wasn’t surprised to discover a crowd milling inside.

  Nick guided her in, stopping to speak to people and introduce her. With his hand cupping her elbow, he steered her to a section of clothing.

  “Ah, here’s what I had in mind.” He lifted a long, navy wool cape lined in fur. The hood was also lined. A matching muff was tied to the cape.

  “It’s beautiful.” She tried to look at the price tag.

  He captured it and held it so she couldn’t see. “Try it on, please. I’ve been told there are long stretches where the high for the day is freezing or below.”

  Melody couldn’t imagine freezing as the day’s high. She removed her old cloak and donned the one he held for her. “Goodness, this is heavy and wonderful. Surely this will be warm enough for any weather.”

  “I have a wool blanket and a buffalo hide lap robe for the buggy. Being out in the open and moving will be fierce. Do you have a warm scarf to wrap around your face?”

  “Yes, and wool gloves.”

  “Good.” He helped her remove the cloak and put on her old one. He carried the new one over his arm.

  A smiling woman whose age appeared to be late twenties or early thirties approached. “Hello, Doctor Walker. I came to meet your wife.”

  Nick made introductions to the owner. “Would you help her with… um, warm women’s things for winter? I’ll put this cloak at the counter.”

  Cassie Weston guided Melody to a counter with deep drawers. She rolled her eyes. “We have to keep unmentionables out of sight to keep from offending anyone. You’ll need them quilted even inside your house.”

  She leaned near. “Don’t even try to go to the privy except once a day to empty the chamber pot if you can manage.”

  “That’s something to consider. The reason I needed the warmer cloak is because I’ll be going with my husband on some of his house calls.”

  Cassie laid a hand on Melody’s arm. “Oh, my dear, you’d better let me fit you with the warmest we have.”

  “I sew if you have warm fabrics.”

  “We do, but you’ll need something in the coming week. According to the Farmer’s Almanac we’ll have more snow the middle of this week.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be tired of snow by spring, but right now I look forward to seeing it.”

  “You’re one of the Southern Belles, aren’t you? We’re so pleased to have you gracious ladies join our community.” While she spoke, she pulled things out and piled them in Melody’s arms—two thick flannel nightgowns, two petticoats, three pantalets, and two chemises.

  Cassie paused. “Do you have a warm robe?”

  “No, my home burned in the war and I lost everything. The few clothes I have came from donations to the church or were shared by friends whose homes were spared. But South Carolina weather is much milder than Montana’s.”

  The store owner grabbed a navy velveteen robe. “That must have been terrible and I’m sorry you went through such a trying time. We were mostly unaffected by the war here except that afterwards we had a lot of men move to the area.”

  Melody raised her eyebrows. “Which is why there were no eligible men left back east. Perhaps you can understand why my friends and I traveled here.”

  “I sympathize completely. I’m sure I would have done the same thing. I’m so sorry for the reason, but having you ladies here is a blessing.”

  “Four more of us will arrive soon.”

  Cassie offered a wide smile. “That’s good news.”

  Melody scanned the store for sight of her husband to signal him to come approve her spending. With his back to her, he spoke to a man near the counter. What would he think of all this expense? After all, he was disappointed in her as his wife and nurse.

  “Now let me show you the fabric. I admit I’m biased but I believe we have a lovely selection.” She pulled out a roll of white flannel. “You can make more unmentionables. If I were you, I’d quilt at least one petticoat, chemise, and pair of pantalets. I’ve made two for myself because doing laundry in winter is difficult.”

  “All right, measure off enough for those. Then I’d like fabric for two dresses. I notice women dress differently here. I’m so glad you’re more practical.”

  Mrs. Weston leaned near. “And, you don’t have to wear a corset. Hardly anyone does. Dr. Walker speaks against them. To welcome you to our town I’ll donate a copy of the latest Harper’s Bazar for styles.” She folded the flannel and gathered a bundle of quilt lining and batting.

  Melody ran her fingers over a soft fabric. “I’d like this lovely blue mohair and enough of the contrasting shade to trim the skirt. Then, the lavender poplin with the gray muslin for trim. I’ll use the wool for Sundays.”

  Nick drifted near. “You’ll need more than two, Melody. In the winter, doing laundry will be difficult.”

  “That’s what Cassie said.” She leaned near his ear. “Stop encouraging her. I’m spending a fortune.”

  He shrugged. “These are necessities, not frivolous. Get warm fabric for four dresses. You can get lighter weight in the spring.”

  If she was still here. She sighed. “Then what’s your favorite color?”

  He regarded her. “Blue to match your eyes… or, whatever you choose.”

  She looked at Cassie. “I’ll also take the dark green merino with contrasting for a ruffle around the bottom and cuffs. The gray twill will look nice with pink ruching.” She picked up thread and velvets and more trims to go with the fabrics.

  The other woman was busy measuring cloth. “I understand your reluctance, my dear. For those who suffered in the war I’m sure it seems extravagant to spend money now. Believe me, you’ll be glad you have these clothes. I’ve been here several years and winter is harsh. Keeping our girls inside on bad days is a challenge.”
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  “Thank you for advising me. I can’t remember winter temperatures ever being as low as freezing in Charleston. Having that for the high is beyond my imagination.”

  “Now that you’re prepared, you’ll do just fine this winter. If you’ve forgotten anything, we’re only a short walk away from your home.”

  She stared at all she’d purchased. “Surely I can’t have forgotten anything. We’ll have our arms full going home.”

  “Well, we can deliver your order if you wish.” Her voice conveyed reluctance but her smile appeared genuine.

  Nick shook his head. “You’re busy so we’ll take what we can with us.”

  “I’ll wear the cloak and that will save room.”

  When their purchases were totaled, they loaded everything into their arms. The man with whom Nick had been in conversation was still near the front.

  Arms loaded, Nick nodded toward him. “Melody, this is my good friend, Glenn Kinnard.”

  Melody smiled. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Glenn bowed and kissed her hand. “The pleasure is mine. Seldom do I have the opportunity to meet so beautiful a woman. Your Southern accent is also welcome.” What a terrible flirt.

  Melody withdrew her hand from his. “I thought it was you who had an accent.”

  Glenn chortled. “Ah, beautiful and a good wit.”

  Nick looked at his friend. “Make yourself useful and open the door for us, will you?”

  Glenn obliged. “I shall look forward to seeing you again, Mrs. Walker.”

  Melody restrained herself from rolling her eyes as she and Nick headed home.

  “Glenn is hoping to win the hand of one of the Southern Belles. You certainly were friendly to him.”

  “You said he was a good friend. I would never be rude to one of your friends. At least, not unless he made a pass and then I’d wallop him.”

  “I thought you Southern Belles gave a dignified slap when offended.”

  “Not me. I give an undignified fist to the face.”

  “What did you really think of him?”

  “He’s nice looking but a flirt. I suppose he’s practicing on me for when the others arrive in a couple of weeks.”

 

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