Mail Order Motherhood (Brides of Beckham)

by Kirsten Osbourne

  *****

  She stumbled into the kitchen at the same time as he did the following morning. He started the fire in the stove for her, while she ground the coffee beans. She rubbed her hands over her arms, trying to warm them. “Would you like anything special for breakfast?” she asked.

  “No, just something to fill my stomach. Anything will do.” He hated that she was such a good cook. Sally had tried, but she’d never enjoyed cooking, and had been unable to come up with creative ways to fix food. He hated comparing the two women, but couldn’t stop himself. “I’ll get the eggs and milk.” He left without another word.

  Clara stared after him, wondering what she’d done wrong. She felt like she constantly fell short of what he wanted from her. She wished she knew how to make him happy, but with the way things were going, she was certain he’d never be happy with anything she did.

  She stirred the batter for pancakes and had just taken the first of them off the griddle when she heard footsteps behind her. The children were up, and the boys took their seats at the table waiting for their meal. The girls automatically set the table for her, and they poured the last of the milk from the previous night into the cups for everyone.

  When Albert came back into the house, the table was set and everything was ready. He looked at the pile of pancakes on the plate she’d set in the center of the table as well as the bacon. “Looks good,” he said, complimenting her efforts for the first time.

  She smiled. “Thank you.” Taking her seat at the opposite end of the table from him, she bowed her head and waited while he prayed. It was her third day there, and she felt like she’d done nothing to break the ice that had formed between them. How could she spend the rest of her life with a man who only wanted a cook, maid, and nurse for his children? She needed so much more than that.

  While the girls did the breakfast dishes, she made the beds. She hadn’t been in Albert’s room before, and saw that he had a photograph of a young woman on his dresser. She assumed it was his first wife, Sally. Sally was very different physically from Clara. She had blond hair and her eyes looked light, although it was hard to tell from a photograph.

  She made his bed quickly and picked up his dirty clothes from the corner of his room. She and the girls would spend some time doing the laundry before going out and picking berries. She looked at the bed she’d already made, and with a sigh, stripped it clean. The sheets and quilts needed to be washed as well. It wasn’t something she’d planned for the day, but she’d do what needed to be done.

  She was coming out of his room with the linens in her arms when he walked into the house with a chicken. She took it from him and plucked the feathers, scalding it and preparing it for supper. They’d have something simple for lunch, probably bacon sandwiches, and she’d make a big pot of chicken and dumplings for dinner.

  The girls started on the laundry while she prepared the chicken for boiling. Natalie efficiently showed Gertie the correct way to use the scrub board and how to rinse everything perfectly clean. Clara felt the pride prick her again that her daughter was so adept at doing household tasks and so willing to help her younger sister. The girls got along well, despite the four year age difference. She couldn’t be prouder of the girl she’d raised.

  Each of the children carried two pails to put the berries in, and she took along a huge cook pot. She wanted to get as many of the berries as they could before they went bad or animals got them. The four of them worked quickly and efficiently, leaving not a single berry on the bush for scavengers.

  They carried their bounty back to the house, and Clara began the painstaking process of washing the berries and removing the twigs that inevitably ended up in the mix. She lost track of time, and it was just before noon, when she realized that she hadn’t fixed lunch. “Natalie, hurry downstairs and get the bacon from the cellar. I’ll heat up the frying pan. We’re having bacon sandwiches for lunch.”

  Without being told, Gertie quickly set the table and got everything as ready as she could. When Natalie gave the slab of bacon to Clara, she rushed over to start slicing the bread while Clara sliced off pieces of the bacon to fry.

  They weren’t quite finished when the men came in, and Clara apologized. “I was caught up in getting the berries ready for canning and lost track of time. I’m so sorry.”

  Albert looked disappointed, but he said nothing. They all ate quickly, and he and Clarence hurried out to finish their day together. Clara hoped he wasn’t angry with her.

  She worked with the two girls, laughing at the sight of Gertie standing on a chair that had been turned backwards with an apron wrapped around her so she could be of some help. Robert took a nap in his room, because he’d started rubbing his eyes and become cranky.

  By the time the men came in for dinner, the chicken and dumplings were cooling on the corner of the stove, and they had filled every jar in the house with homemade preserves and pie filling. She still needed to take care of the apples and the pumpkins, but they would keep longer.

  The bread from the previous day was still good, but she toasted it, buttering it before she put it into the oven to make it a little tastier. The girls had helped her make two pies for dessert, so she knew the majority of her family would be happy with the treat.

  She hadn’t been able to get the clothes in from the line yet, but she’d do that while the girls did dishes after supper and get everything folded and put away. After the prayer, she looked at Albert. “I’m going to need several more jars to be able to finish the canning. I haven’t done the apples or the pumpkins yet.”

  “I’ll see to that Friday. Can it wait that long?” Albert looked up from his meal long enough to ask.

  “Yes, that would be wonderful. Would you also see if anyone is selling any other fresh fruits or vegetables? I’d love to have some green beans, carrots, potatoes… anything you can find really. I’ll can what I can and a lot of that will just keep in the cellar through the winter.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll get whatever anyone is selling. A lot of times farmers will try to sell fresh produce on the side of the road leading into Billings. If I find that, I’ll buy some of everything and let you do what you want.” He looked down at his meal and grunted. “You did a fine job on dinner tonight.”

  She smiled, knowing it took a lot for him to be able to give a compliment like that. “Thank you. I’m sorry lunch wasn’t ready when you got here.”

  He shrugged. “No matter. We got a lot done today anyway. I’m amazed at how much faster work goes with my helper.” Life was easier all around with his new wife and her children. He hated to admit it, because it felt like a betrayal of Sally, but Clara was a much better housewife than his first wife had ever been.

  Clarence flushed with pleasure, and Clara smiled happily. As hard as it was for Albert to compliment her, it seemed to come naturally for him to compliment the children. She knew it meant a lot to her son to hear that he was doing well. “I’ll make that list tonight and tomorrow. I do want to make sure we have enough to make it through the winter if we get snowed in.”

  Albert nodded. “We’ll do fine.” He’d been in Montana long enough that he respected the winters, but he didn’t fear them. He hoped his wife would calm down in her fear of them soon.

  Clara looked at the girls. “I’m going to get fabric for you each to have some new clothes as well. If you want to think about colors, you can let me know.” She looked at Robert. “Do you want to pick the color for your new shirts?”

  Robert shrugged. “Whatever Papa likes.”

  She smiled, having expected that answer. She was almost excited for the canning to be over so she could move on to making the new clothes for her family. She’d never been fond of sewing, but after spending two years farming, she was thrilled to have the opportunity to stay in and do women’s work.

  After supper, Albert and Clarence went out to do the milking while the girls dealt with the dishes. Clara went to the line and took everything down. She was happy the quilts were done, and sh
e wouldn’t have to wash them again until spring. She carried everything in, carefully folded the clothes, and went in to make each of the beds.

  She did the children’s first, because they went to bed before the adults, and then she went downstairs to fix Albert’s bed. She was spreading his quilt over his sheet when he came into the room. She flushed, feeling like she was intruding when she was in his bedroom. He stood watching her for a moment, obviously not pleased to find her there, before turning from the room.

  She followed him out, sitting at the table with him. “I’m sorry to be in your space that way, but your bedding needed to be washed.” She wondered how to get him to look at her when she talked to him. Why did he dislike her so much?

  He gave a brief nod but didn’t respond any other way. He hated seeing her in the room he’d shared with his wife. Why did if feel like such a betrayal?

  She sighed. “Why didn’t you just send off for a maid and a cook instead of a wife? You don’t have any desire for a wife.”

  He shrugged. “Wouldn’t have been proper for one thing. And I’d have had to pay a maid. Wife works for free.” He knew his words sounded cold, but they were true. He really didn’t have the money to pay a woman to do the things a wife would do for free. He wasn’t poor, but he wasn’t rich either.

  She shook her head sadly. “I’d have taken on the job of a free maid if it meant my children would have food, clothes, and a roof over their heads.”

  He shrugged again, not willing to pursue the topic.

  “Will I ever be more to you than the woman who cooks and cleans and cares for your children?” she asked, her voice obviously annoyed. She was glad the children were in bed instead of hearing this conversation.

  He sighed. “I don’t really know. I like you fine. That’s not it at all. I just…I lost my wife eight months ago. I’m not ready to let someone take her place yet.” He couldn’t believe he was telling a beautiful woman he wouldn’t take her to his bed, even though she was his wife. Was he even a man any longer?

  “I see.” She felt the tears prick her eyes as she rose from the table. She wasn’t sure why it mattered to her that he didn’t want to be married to her, but it did. “I’ll get you that list tomorrow.”

  “Clara?” he called.

  She turned, surprised to hear her name on his lips. It was the first time he’d said it. “Yes?”

  “You’re doing a fine job with my children. I appreciate the meals and all the hard work. We’re going to be fine. I just need time.” He hated hurting her, and he knew he had. Just because he wasn’t over his first wife, didn’t mean he had to treat his second wife poorly.

  She nodded, turning back around to climb the stairs up to the bed she shared with Natalie. She hoped he was right and they would be fine. She didn’t want to feel lost for the rest of her life.

  Chapter Four

  Clara kept working hard for her family. She finished the canning with the supplies he brought from town and helped him with curing the meat from the steer he’d butchered. They both knew it would need to be used as quickly as they could, but he said he’d do another as soon as the snows started. Once they would remain frozen they’d stay better longer. She was simply happy to know they’d have food through the long winter. The main thing that had concerned her about moving so far from the city was the winters.

  The fall cleaning was done, and the first snows blew through. She started the children on schoolwork and patiently taught Gertie to read. Robert listened in as much as he could, and he learned his letters and the sounds he made, although she didn’t push him to learn. Natalie was self-sufficient in her schoolwork, and usually finished within a few hours each day.

  They were falling into a good schedule, and Clara was pleased. Every day she’d sew on their clothes while they did their schoolwork, and every evening after they went to bed, she’d work on gifts she was making for them for Christmas. She decided to make sweaters for both girls and scarves and stocking caps to wear under their cowboy hats for all three of her men. Robert would love being included with the other two.

  She and Albert would talk quietly while they worked, getting to know one another. He talked about what it was like to grow up in Texas, and how much he’d loved his Sally. She’d talk about growing up in Massachusetts and about Nathan. They talked about when the babies were little and how much they loved them. One thing they never mentioned was their future together. Clara found the omission sad.

  As the nights got longer and the days got shorter, they found themselves having more and more time together in the evenings. There was really no work that could be done on the ranch after dark, so they’d come in earlier at night. One night, while they were sitting around the table with the supper dishes put away, Gertie asked Albert to play his guitar.

  Clara looked at him in surprise. “You play guitar? I’ve never even noticed one.”

  He shrugged. “I keep it under the bed and out of sight. I haven’t played in a year.”

  Clara did some quick math. He hadn’t played since his wife had fallen ill then. “Please, play something for us,” she asked.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know that I can.” He had loved playing for Sally, but now that she was gone, he just didn’t feel like playing any longer. How could he?

  Clara didn’t ask again. Instead, she had the children play together, not meeting his eyes. While they were awake, she was working on a new dress for Gertie. She stabbed the fabric a little harder than she needed to, pushing her needle through. Some day he would consider her good enough to be married to. She looked at Albert. They’d been married a month and a half, and the only time he’d even kissed her was when he was forced to by the pastor.

  Clara studied him as she worked. He was carefully whittling a piece of wood, for what purpose she had no idea. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him, for real, and not just because they were sealing their vows.

  She finished the hem on the dress and called to Gertie. “Let’s go upstairs and try this on. I want to make sure I don’t need to change it at all.”

  Gertie was practically bouncing with excitement over the pretty dress.

  “Use my bedroom,” Albert called.

  Clara bit back a retort that it was all his bedroom was good for. She sighed to herself. Why did it make her so angry that he wouldn’t treat her like a woman? It wasn’t like she was in love with him!

  No, she didn’t love him, but she was interested in learning if love was even an option between them. She wanted to get to know the man better, and possibly have a real relationship with him. She felt like he owed her that chance. He should be courting her and treating her like she was someone he cared about, instead of ignoring her so much.

  She helped Gertie into the dress and smiled when it fit so well. She’d left plenty of room in the waist for it to be taken out so it would fit for longer and had left room at the hem for it to be taken down. The dress should fit for at least a couple of years to come.

  Gertie insisted on wearing it into the big room so the family could see it on her. Albert told her she was almost as beautiful as her mother, and Gertie sat on his lap and hugged him.

  Clara had known there was great affection between father and daughter, but had never before seen the two of them display it with her sitting on his lap. She’d never heard him mention her mother to her before either. She felt as if she was completely left out of the situation, and it made her sad.

  As she helped Gertie get out of the dress, she sighed. She needed to have a talk with Albert. They’d been married long enough that she should be able to tell him how she was feeling. Shouldn’t she?

  Once the children were tucked into bed that evening, Clara returned to the table and took out her crocheting. The girls’ sweaters were coming along beautifully. She took a deep breath and steeled herself before saying, “Is there something wrong with me?”

  His head jerked up from whatever he was carving. “What?” He was married to a beautiful, capable woman who seemed
able to do just about anything, and she thought something was wrong with her?

  “I want to know if there is something so ugly about me that you find you can’t look at me or treat me like anything other than a maid. I’ve been married to you for six weeks and the only time you’ve ever kissed me is when the pastor told you to. The only time you’ve ever touched me is to help me get in and out of the wagon. It’s not natural for us to be married and never touch or kiss.” She didn’t look at him as she said the words, and instead she concentrated on the hook in her hand as it formed the small sweater.

  He sighed. “There’s nothing wrong with you. I actually think you’re very attractive.” He set the wood and knife in his hands onto the table and braced his hands on his knees. He looked at her as he said the words, hoping she’d understand. “I loved my wife more than I’ve ever loved anyone. When she died, I felt like a part of me died too.”

  Clara’s eyes met his, and she shook her head. “You act like you think I don’t understand losing someone you love. I loved my husband something fierce, but it doesn’t feel right to me to tie myself to you for life, and not at least explore whether or not we could have feelings for each other. I could love you, even though I loved him. Just like I love your children, even though I love mine.” She looked down again. “I just know what we’re doing isn’t right. We made vows to each other, and we’re ignoring those vows.”

  Albert shook his head. “I’m not ignoring them. I’m postponing them…for now. I need a little more time.”

  “How much?” she asked. She wasn’t sure what was prompting her to push him this way, but she just didn’t feel right about the way things were between them.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he stared at her. “How much?”

  “How much time do you need? A week? A month? A year? A decade?” She met his eyes again, feeling stronger than she had in a long time. “How much time do you need before you can stop thinking of me as someone you hired and start exploring the fact that you now have a wife?”