by Diane Darcy
Melissa’s mouth had fallen open. She obviously didn’t accept a word he’d said. She took a breath, her mouth forming a hot denial.
He let go of her arm and stepped back. “Not now. If we don’t watch it, we’re going to get kicked out of here yet.”
Outrage colored her face. “I very much doubt that. You don’t know everything you think you know. If it weren’t for me--”
”Not now!” He hissed the words through clenched teeth. “You don’t even know how to keep your voice down.”
Hannah poked her head out of the doorway and Richard saw the anxious look she shot his way. She probably hadn’t overheard his words, but he could see his tone had frightened her. She didn’t meet his gaze. “Uh, if you could come inside?”
Melissa marched toward the cabin, her look of disdain firmly in place.
Richard glared after her, then mounted the stairs. It took a second to adjust to the darker interior after the brilliant sunlight, but his eyes quickly adapted to reveal two small rooms and a loft. The room he’d walked into was the larger one and had a squat, cast-iron stove, curtained shelves, a table with a lantern sitting on it, four chairs, and the window.
Through the doorway, he could see sunlight spilling across a bed and the chest at its base. The loft above the smaller room had a couple of mattresses poking over the edge.
The place was cozy. Nice. Better than he’d expected. The widow MacPherson obviously took good care of her employees.
The kids were grinning. Jessica quickly climbed the ladder to the loft, with Jeremy right behind her. “This one’s mine!”
“No fair!” said Jeremy.
Hannah smiled at the kids, and it made her seem much younger, almost pretty. She turned to Melissa. “There are supplies on these shelves.”
She walked to one wall and pulled back one side of a pink curtain to reveal three long shelves with canned goods, cooking pots, dishes and various living essentials.
She pointed to a corner. “There’s wood for the stove, and bedding on the beds. How does everything look?” She smiled shyly, expectantly at the two of them.
Melissa arched a brow at Richard, but she pasted a fake smile on. “Fine.” Her tone said otherwise.
Anger simmering, Richard smiled widely, trying to make up for Melissa’s lack of courtesy. “Everything is great. Really great. Thank you.”
Hannah looked at Melissa uncertainly. “There are two mattress for the children. They won’t even have to share.”
Melissa snorted.
Richard’s smile was frozen in place. “That’s great.”
Hannah shot Melissa a confused look. “Is everything all right then? Some of the wives cleaned up the cabin last night when they heard you were coming. I hope that--”
”The windows are streaked with dirt and the curtains are ugly. And what is this on the floor?”
Richard froze, unable to believe his ears.
With a confused look, Hannah looked at the floor. “Linoleum?”
“I see. Antique flooring. How quaint. Well--”
”Melissa?” He choked out her name.
She looked at him.
Stop it! He mouthed the words at her and glared.
“It’s fine.” Melissa said stiffly.
Jeremy and Jessica looked down from the loft. “I’m hungry.” said Jeremy.
“Me too.” said Jessica.
With a look of relief, Hannah turned to the children. “Oh you poor little lambs. Come down here.” She went to the table and flipped back a towel from off a loaf of bread. “I made this fresh this morning. And there’s butter and jam too.” There was pride in her voice. She cut two thick slices of bread and slathered them liberally. “Uh, Mrs. Kendal, you’ll be in charge of helping in the garden. Everyone pitches in.” She handed Jeremy his slice of bread.
“What?” said Melissa, her tone incredulous.
Hannah jerked and dropped the piece of bread. She looked at Richard, startled, then lowered her gaze to the bread, an expression of horror on her round face.
Jeremy quickly snatched up the bread, which luckily, had landed right side up. “Ten second rule!”
Hannah looked at him, blankly.
Jeremy smiled and took a bite. “If it’s on the floor for less than ten seconds, it’s still clean.”
Hannah smiled at him, reached out as if to touch his head, then dropped her hand and turned to Melissa, but didn’t meet her gaze.
“We all help and we all share.” She sounded very close to tears, and she quickly headed for the door. “Well, if you have everything you need?”
Richard’s heart pounded hard as he smiled at Hannah, he hoped reassuringly. “Thank you, everything looks wonderful.” His tone was gentle, but she shot him an apprehensive glance and practically ran from the room, shutting the door behind her.
Richard pinched the bridge of his nose and pulled in a lung- full of air. So far, it was turning out to be a great day. His boss hated him, a woman was afraid of him, and his wife was a witch.
He needed to get out of there. He headed for the door.
Melissa strolled over to the window. “I wonder why that widow hired such a pathetic person. I wouldn’t put up with someone who slinked around like that. Heck, she even seemed afraid of you, Richard.”
He didn’t make it outside. Boiling lava raced through his veins and exploded. Richard turned back and slashed a hand through the air. “That is it! I have had it with you. You had better start treating the people who live here with respect! You will be nice to everyone, you will pull your own weight and you will stop acting in a way that makes me cringe!”
The kids stared at him, eyes wide, bread arrested halfway to their mouths.
Great, not only did he scare women, but children too.
Richard growled, shook his head and opened the door.
“I’m going to work. Stay out of trouble, Melissa.”
“And what am I supposed to be doing all day while you’re gone playing John Wayne?” Her tone was shrill.
“Get busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Before you tend the garden, why don’t you wash the windows and make some curtains, Princess?”
He slammed the door shut behind him.
* * *
Melissa walked to the dirt-streaked window, crossed her arms and watched as Richard walked away, stiff with anger.
The kids were quiet behind her, and Melissa kept her back to them as her stomach wrenched and tears formed in her eyes.
What the heck had just happened? What had she done to deserve his contempt? His cruelty? He hadn’t even listened when she’d tried to explain that she’d actually kept them from getting kicked off the ranch.
And to be so mean to her! Didn’t he realize what she was going through? Here she was, without her job, practically stripped of her identity, stuck in this horrible place, wearing ugly uncomfortable clothes, starving, and desperately in need of a shower! And what did Richard do? He yelled at her!
Anger built slowly, drying the tears trembling on her lashes. It was a power thing. It had to be. She should have known this would happen. For two days she’d been the helpless, dependent woman, then bam! He’d started bossing her around, and telling her what to do, all because he was making a measly thirty dollars a month.
She’d known since childhood that money was power.
She watched Richard turn at the last cabin and pace out of sight. She swivelled away from the window.
Well, they’d just see, wouldn’t they? In any century she had skills. She’d get a job too. Then sit back and watch as Richard’s attitude did a complete turn around.
Hunger gnawed at her stomach and she joined the kids at the table and cut herself a piece of bread, sat down in a crude wooden chair, and broke off a generous piece of crust. At least it was whole wheat bread and not white. She took a bite, savored the nutty flavor and chewy texture, and thought she’d died and gone straight to heaven! It tasted better than anything she’d ever eaten.
/> Thirst had her searching the cabin for a faucet, or even a pump of some kind. No such luck. How did these people live this way? She rose to check the heavy teapot-looking-thing on the stove, and when she hefted it, fluid sloshed. She lifted a crude earthenware mug off one shelf and poured some water into the cup. Walking to the window she used the sunlight to check for bugs.
It looked clean. She took a tiny sip, just enough to wash the bread down. It tasted tinny, like it had been soaking in aluminum foil, but wonderful just the same. She took another sip. Hopefully it had been boiled; the last thing she needed was to get sick.
She sat back down and the kids poured themselves some water, pulled up chairs and joined her. She sliced them each another piece of bread which they promptly slathered with butter and jam.
Jessica pushed the condiments across the table. “Want some?”
“No, thank you.” Melissa looked away. She didn’t want the fat and empty calories. She just wished she didn’t want the fat and empty calories. She quickly finished her bread and cut another slice. Between them, the loaf was quickly consumed. Jeremy inspected the shelves for a moment. “What’s for dinner tonight?”
Melissa stared at him blankly.
Jeremy’s eyes widened and he turned to Jessica. “We’re gonna die.”
Jessica laughed.
Feeling better with a full stomach, Melissa rolled her eyes and smiled. “We’re not going to die.” She stood and inspected the food supplies. Flour, sugar, salt. She unwrapped a chunk of-- she recoiled in horror. “What is this?”
It looked like some kind of raw meat. And it was just sitting out on the shelf!
Jessica peered over her shoulder. “Ham or something? Bacon?”
Melissa quickly re-wrapped it. “Ugh. That is disgusting. It’s probably rancid.” She inspected a bowl with a thick brown substance in it. She smelled it. Realization and incredulity dawned at the same moment. “Grease! Ugh!” She quickly put it back. “What kind of sick person would put grease in a bowl? And keep it?”
With a shudder, she continued her exploration: a bowl and mixing spoon, some pots and pans, eggs, a round of white cheese, potatoes, and cans of beans. How was she supposed to make a meal out of this stuff?
Years ago, in college, Lean Cuisine and salad had been the staples in her diet, and that was the extent of her cooking experience. She wasn’t even sure what a person could make from the ingredients here.
And she had a hard time believing a stove like the one in front of her could do more than provide heat. She stooped to open the heavy oven door, almost wrenching her arm as it fell open hard. Ashes layered the bottom. What was she supposed to do? Throw wood inside and light a match? And where were the matches anyway? She hadn’t noticed any.
She sighed, shut the oven door and turned to the kids. “Your father will probably know how to cook something.”
Jessica crossed her arms. “If he’s working all day, should he have to come home and cook too?”
“Should he have to come home and eat mom’s cooking?” Jeremy countered.
Jessica smiled. “Good point.”
The kids laughed.
Put some food in them and they became comedians. Melissa turned away. “I’m not listening,” she said, her voice singsong. Her gaze fell on the abandoned feed sack she’d hauled all the way from Sully’s. Enough sitting around. She needed to get organized and then come up with a plan of action. Just because she was in a different century, and just because she’d only be here for three months, didn’t mean she couldn’t stick with what worked for her. She clapped her hands together. “Let’s get organized.”
She expected resistance from the kids, but when she turned they were grinning.
Melissa eyed them. “What’s so funny?”
“You,” said Jessica with a sweep of her arm to indicate the cabin. “What are you going to organize?”
Both kids laughed again.
A smile tugged at her mouth, her own mood apparently improved by the food too. “Never you mind, just follow me.” Melissa picked up the feed sack and pushed the doorway curtain all the way open on the way into the smaller room.
The kids followed and stood in the entrance.
Melissa surveyed the room. It wasn’t much. A small, short bed with a folded pile of bedding on it took up almost the entire space, which wasn’t saying much since the bed was so narrow. A chest sat at the foot of the bed, there was a window with another ugly curtain, and that was it: no closet, no dresser, nothing. It was pretty pathetic.
She pulled her few possessions from the sack: a hideous yellow dress, some stockings, a ridiculous lace-edged apron, a few handkerchiefs, a cape, some material, and her own dress, slip and shoes. Oh, the bounty.
She spread open the material. Several large patches were moth-eaten, making it useless. So much for making Jessica a dress. She shook her head, opened the trunk, folded everything and placed the meager possessions inside. She couldn’t help thinking of her walk-in closet at home, packed with more clothes than she could ever wear.
She unfolded one of the sheets and tried to remember the last time she’d made a bed. She couldn’t. She opened the other sheet. Neither was fitted. She stared in confusion.
Jeremy grinned. “Need some help?”
Melissa tried to look unconcerned. “Yes. Um, why don’t you two do this? And when you’re done, make your own beds and clean your...er...room.”
The kids exchanged a sardonic look.
Melissa pretended not to see it as she walked out of the tiny bedroom and stood in the middle of the... the living room. The little cabin was claustrophobic. There was no way she could stay in this place for three months. No, make that two months, twenty-nine days. She glanced at the log wall by the front door and wondered if she should scratch a line in one of the logs, indicating one day of time served.
She sighed. What she needed was to quickly get a handle on things and figure out where she stood. She needed a job, though how she’d get a job in fashion wearing one of her new dresses, she didn’t know.
She realized she didn’t even know how far it was to the nearest town. Was it still Garden City, or did that town exist in the here and now? She had a lot to think about, and wished she had a pen and some paper to formulate a plan on. She grimaced. Perhaps she should get a stick and go outside and write in the dirt.
A knock on the door broke into her reverie, and hope widened her eyes. Perhaps it was Richard coming home to apologize? She hurried to the door, determined to forgive him quickly.
Three young women stood there, smiles on their faces.
“Hello, I’m Sarah Mendelson.” The chubby, full-breasted one in the middle seemed to be the spokesperson. She waved her hand toward a blonde, very young, shy-looking lady at her side. “This is Emma Rogers,” and she indicated a third lady, a brunette, with a half-mocking smile on her other side. “And this is Amanda Dade.”
Sarah smiled widely. “We’re your neighbors and we’d like to welcome you.” The ladies all wore the style of the day, but their dresses were prettier and much more presentable than what Melissa had on.
Melissa’s cheeks heated. She absolutely hated being the worst dressed. Her chin went up, but to please Richard, she decided to be agreeable. “How nice.”
The ladies exchanged a quick look.
What? Had she been too abrupt?
Sarah bumped the shy Emma with her elbow.
Emma met Melissa’s gaze briefly, then lifted a basket.
“We brought you some cookies,” she said with a southern twang, her voice barely audible. She held out a basket of raisin cookies, large and delicious-looking. The scent of nutmeg drifted up.
Melissa didn’t eat cookies. And even if she did, she’d already had enough carbs to last her a while, so it ticked her off that the cookies looked tempting. Where was her will power today? “No thank you, we don’t need--”
”Cookies!” Jeremy exclaimed, pushing past Melissa. “Jessica, get in here!” Jeremy snatched the basket of
cookies, a look of wonder on his face. He glanced from the cookies to the ladies. “Thank you!” He grinned his ‘I’m so charming grin’, and immediately shoved a cookie in his mouth. “Ohhhhmmmm. This is so good!”
Jessica came in and smiled at the ladies. “Hi.” She looked at the cookies. “Oh! These look great!” She dug in too.
Did they have to look like they were starving to death? Good grief, they’d just barely finished eating.
“These are fantastic!” said Jeremy.
“The best! Thank you!” said Jessica.
Melissa’s mouth watered, killing what was left of her good mood.
The three women smiled. “You’re welcome,” said Sarah.
As one, the women all stared at Melissa again. There was an uncomfortable silence.
Melissa wondered if she ought to invite them inside, but decided against it. What would she offer them? Tin flavored water?
Amanda cleared her throat. “Our husbands work together.”
The mention of work captured Melissa’s attention. “Do any of you work?”
Sarah sucked in a breath of air and her chest puffed out to tremendous proportions. “I beg your pardon?”
Melissa’s brows rose. What had she said? Hadn’t she been specific enough? “Do you know if there is any available work in town?” she said succinctly.
Amanda gave her a curious stare. She shook her head. “What for?”
Melissa stared at her blankly. “For employment.”
Emma, the youngest of the three, gave her a tentative smile.
“Mrs. MacPherson is a wonderful employer. I’m sure your husband will do well here. You don’t need to worry.”
The other two nodded.
Melissa didn’t have their confidence, but that was beside the point. These ladies just weren’t getting it. “Look, I need a job. I can’t just spend all my time doing menial labor. I’m an experienced fashion designer.”
They looked at her blankly.