Everett nodded behind Rachel, his eyes closed.
Julia frowned. Everett had told her how the doctor assumed she would die or need an amputation. Did their prayers work, or was she simply lucky, as the doctor said?
The doctor’s lower lip protruded a bit, but he gave a sharp nod. “I suppose the Almighty can do better work than me.” He patted her shoulder. “If you received His special attention, then you’d have to be extraordinary.” Taking a long look at her skirt as if he could see through the fabric to her scarred leg, he fiddled with his satchel’s handle. “I have no more to do here. You might feel the effects of this injury for years to come, especially on days the weather changes drastically. I do believe I’ll keep using Lister’s methods to see if they hold out.”
Julia shook her head. There was nothing extraordinary about her; maybe the advancement of medical practices had healed her. God shouldn’t have worked a miracle just for her. She wasn’t worth it. He would be as ashamed of her past as she was—and how she was treating her husband now.
Dr. Forsythe turned to shake Everett’s hand but was pulled into an embrace. The man’s fat sides bulged over Everett’s tightened arms. After stepping back from the bear hug, the doctor cleared his throat. “Well, so long, Mr. and Mrs. Cline. I have more visits in the direction of Fossil Creek.” A big yawn split his mouth open wide.
Rachel handed him a loaf of bread. “You get some rest, Doctor.”
Dr. Forsythe stared at Rachel. “I don’t intend to take lectures from a woman in your state. The bags under your eyes are as large as my own, I’m sure. You should be getting more sleep.”
Her hand slid to her swollen abdomen. “I try.”
The doctor took his leave, and Julia swung her legs to the mattress’s edge and breathed in deeply. Her arms pushed against the bed frame, but Everett’s hands on her shoulders stopped her progress. She growled at him. “I’m fine. The doctor took away the bandages and declared me a miracle. Please let me stand. I can’t stay in this bed any longer.”
“I don’t want you to hurt yourself. You need to take things slow.”
She groaned. “If we take this as slow as you want, I’ll be here another month. My leg’s been better for several days now, but I submitted. Now please, let me move to that chair over there. I’ve yet to enjoy any of the new furniture.” At his half-cocked brow, she pleaded. “The doctor gave me no restrictions. I just want to sit, not turn cartwheels.”
He held out his hand. “All right, but I don’t want you to fall. You’ve lost your strength.”
She could not argue with that and allowed him to guide her as she took a few feeble steps to the chair with the fancy embroidered cushion. Her embroidery decorated all four chairs. The embarrassing progress of her needlepoint skills graced their seats. She might not have gotten any better at patience during her bed rest, but her needlework had improved. Of all the silly things to be wasting time doing.
Everett sat in the chair beside her and placed a small kiss at the crown of her head, breathing in deeply. “You smell lovely,” he whispered.
Thankfully, Rachel was busy cooking and couldn’t see her flamed face. Memories of the rag bath he’d helped her with last night brought warmth to her cheeks. He’d bought lavender water especially for her on his last trip to town. Tilting her head toward Rachel, she shushed him. Prudish of her, considering the care he’d performed while her leg healed, but things had not changed between them that way.
The ordeal had brought them closer, but for him to flirt boldly in front of Rachel made her cringe. Only a girl of ill repute would encourage such public behavior. But was it different if they were married? In front of a good friend? She’d not thought ill of Rachel when Dex had leaned in for a kiss, but for her . . . She reached for her brooch, but it wasn’t at her neck.
A sly smile played at his lips before he left the new cabin through its wonderful, properly hung front door.
“Oh, he frustrates me!” She strangled the arms of her chair.
Rachel turned from the stove. “How so?”
Her thumbs rubbed the smooth woodwork of the armrest. Impressive. “I don’t know. Just does. He’s underfoot all the time. And this is the first time I’ve been out of bed for him to actually have a chance at being underfoot.”
Rachel snickered.
“Don’t you laugh! I had to answer unending questions, explain my embroidery, listen to him read sermons . . . He pestered me more than Sticky.”
“My, aren’t we crabby.”
“I’m not crabby, I’m . . .” Fine. She was crabby.
“Maybe a nap is in order. Think I ought to help you back into bed.” Rachel wiped her hands on her towel.
“No, please no.” She closed her eyes for a few seconds, then lifted her gaze to meet Rachel’s. “I’m all right. A bit testy, yes. But you don’t know how it is to be in bed for weeks.” She grimaced. “Embroidering chair cushions.”
Rachel’s mouth skewed to the side. “I think you should hop in bed and make a few more.”
“What?” She gripped the chair’s arms tighter, but the twitch in Rachel’s mouth gave her away. She relaxed. “Don’t tease about such a thing. I just got out of bed.”
Rachel clucked and returned to the pan on the stove. “And I thought Dex was a whiny baby when he’s sick.”
Julia took several deep breaths through her nose and let them out her mouth. Her body shook with tension. Wouldn’t anyone be irritable after so long in bed? She’d been sure that once she got up, she’d be happy. But she’d only made it to the chair. Rachel’s busy hands made her antsy to help, but her legs wouldn’t hold her for any length of time. How many days of idleness would pass before she could get up and do something? She scrambled around her mind for positive thoughts.
“Thanks for those prayers, by the way.” Deep down, the knowledge that those prayers had saved her life fought to be recognized. The pain during her fevers had left her desirous of death, but now she was glad she’d survived. Was she ready to meet the God behind the power of those prayers? The quivering in her stomach said no.
“I said prayers sure enough.” Rachel turned to her and brandished a wet serving spoon at her. “But I think Everett down on his knees was more effectual. How could God ignore the persistence of that man?” She dished out two bowls of chicken soup. “I don’t think I’ve seen a clearer picture of praying without ceasing. When your fever was high, your hallucinations terrified you. I think he stayed up three straight nights early on, nursing you and praying.” Rachel’s extended belly came into view as she walked around the table setting dishes.
Julia frowned. “And you here too, with children at home and a babe depending on your well-being.”
“Don’t worry yourself over things that have turned out just fine.”
“The doctor said you should rest more.” She flexed her feet, trying to banish the tingling sensation slithering from her toes to her knees. “I’m glad I’ve gotten out of that bed before you have to be confined to yours.”
Rachel snorted. “Out here, we don’t have the luxury of a confinement.” She rubbed her lower back. “What a treat that would be.” She smiled at her. “If you want to let me laze around in bed for a few days and corral my children, I won’t complain much.”
“Consider it done. As long as my guard dog deems me well enough to walk by that time. He might let me stand by, oh . . . how long do you have?”
“Probably a couple weeks.”
“Hopefully I’ll be promoted to moving on my own by then.” She sighed. “He thinks I’m worthless.”
“Whatever gave you that crazy idea?”
Her stomach called out to the steamy food piled on the table, so she inched her chair closer. “Anytime I offered to attempt housework in my splint, he’d refuse. Told me it was no big deal. Then I tried telling him I could fend for myself for a day so he could get work done in the fields, but he said everything was taken care of.” She shook her head. “I’ve been released from the state of being a
burden now, but I’m wondering if I’m actually useful. Evidently, he can do both our jobs with ease.”
Rachel’s laughter hit the rooftop. “Foolish girl. People have been stopping by this whole time helping with the outside chores—why do you think you’ve had so many visitors? They came in to cheer you with their words and then worked in the fields and barn to encourage Everett.”
Julia furrowed her brow. No one had ever done that much for her back home. She didn’t really know anyone here except the Stantons. Why would strangers take their precious time to help her? She’d find out who had spent time doing Everett’s farm chores and bake them something for their sacrifice.
“And of course, Everett was going to be in here every possible second of the day. You gave him quite a scare. Not only being crazy enough to walk along the roof of a leaning shanty, fall, and give yourself one of the worst wounds you can acquire, but also having a fever so high we were sure you were going to set the sheets afire.” Rachel set glasses of fresh milk on the table. “The man is trying to protect you from yourself.”
Julia bit her lip to keep from telling her how she really fell off the roof.
“And might I add, you’re not taking advantage of Everett’s devotion. The time will come when you have to return to your daily work, but for now, enjoy the attention your husband wants to dole out.” With a flourish, Rachel flipped napkins on the table and bent to kiss her on the head. “Get out of that nasty mood and be content. Make him happy. He is desperately trying to make you so.” She grabbed her shawl and left.
Julia stared at the bowl across from her. Could she shake herself from her petulance and please him? She knew what would make him happy. Her breaths quickened of their own accord. Could she do that?
While Everett slurped the broth from his chicken and noodles, Julia swished her spoon in her still-full bowl. The lump in her throat kept her from consuming food or conversing.
“Was dinner not to your liking?” Everett peered at her bowl.
Because of her need to eat, she squelched the desire to push the food away. She required strength, and a lot of it, to get back on her feet. She brought a spoonful to her mouth. “I’m just savoring the meal.”
Frowning, Everett watched her for a second before taking his bowl to the basin. “Don’t savor too long. It isn’t as delicious cold.”
Chewing, she lamented that her own soup was not near as tasty as Rachel’s. She’d bet Everett would miss Rachel’s cooking terribly. She would.
Grabbing his chair, Everett scooted nearer. He straddled the seat and crossed his arms on the chair’s back, his chin propped on his right forearm.
Taking another bite, she avoided his intense gaze. She swallowed, gave in, and peeked.
He smiled. A slow smile.
She ladled another spoonful. That smile did weird things to her stomach. She shouldn’t have dawdled with the food. “So, now that I’m up and about, I can start household chores again, freeing you for the work I know has to be piling up.”
“I’m a bit behind, but not too much. I’ve had help.”
She wiped at her mouth and shoveled in another bite. It was the first time he’d mentioned that others had helped him. Why had he kept that from her? She ran a finger along the neckline of her nightgown. What a silly thing to get riled over. She needed fresh air; she was going stir crazy.
“But don’t you worry about household chores yet. Take the time to gain strength before you shoulder a workload.”
She choked a bit, requiring several sips of water. “Take some time?” Cough. “I don’t want any more of it. I’m tired of time.”
“I’m sure you’re restless, but you shouldn’t throw yourself back into work because you think that’s what I need. I can help you with the household chores.”
“I know you can, but the best way you can help is to allow me to exercise.” She didn’t want to be relegated to a chair to embroider more superfluous items. Her leg still tingled oddly though an hour had passed since she’d gotten out of bed. “Let me work through the pain while doing something useful.”
“Just promise me you won’t overdo it.”
“Promise.” Hopefully that would convince him to let her go at her own pace. Maybe she’d do too much, but her body would advise her to go slower if she did.
Gulping down the rest of the food, she sneaked glances from the corner of her eyes and found his dark, gentle gaze fixed on her. He was trying to get closer—to burrow into her heart. She knew what that would entail. But did she want to push him away? Her throat tightened, making it hard to get the food into her stomach.
She shifted in her seat to take the pressure off a tender spot. Obviously, he’d had the chance to feel closer to her through her ordeal, but not until the last month had she been aware of his ministrations. He’d been careful and gentle, but she’d avoided his gaze, thinking about the minutes and seconds left until she could get up from under his care and stand on her own two feet. She pushed the empty bowl away.
Everett swept it up as if nothing gave him more pleasure than to wash her dirty dish. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” he said over his shoulder.
Her posture slumped. “You’ve done plenty for me.” And she hadn’t given him anything he wanted in return. Isn’t that what he’d implied minutes before she fell? He didn’t want her to work—he wanted her.
He shook his head. “Not enough.” A quick smile brightened his face. “I’ll go get it.” Everett banged out the door, and his footsteps thumped on the steps.
A wave of dizziness caused her to close her eyes for a second. She gripped the table, willing her light-headedness to pass before he returned and demanded she get back into bed.
A hollow metal sound clanked on the porch. Everett shoved his hip against the door and backed in, the shadow of a large object behind him. A bathtub. The thought of soaking her achy body in warm water brushed her feelings of inadequacy aside. How long would it take to fill?
He set the shiny metal tub in the corner beside the cookstove and surveyed the oversized trough with his hands on his hips. “Won’t this be something? I haven’t yet used it.” He grabbed the pot that had boiled while they ate. “This morning I placed several buckets of water off the porch in the sun. I think with the boiling water, it will be ready for you in no time.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. Only a few minutes. Tension ebbed from her shoulders. She could already feel the water’s soothing effects.
The first few pails of water hit the tub’s metal floor. How wonderful to bathe indoors again. The new cabin was built much tighter—no wide gaps between the floor slats, no crumbled chink leaving holes in the walls. She had expected nothing more than feet soaks throughout the winter since the old shack had been drafty. But now she could bathe whenever she wanted. Nothing in her father’s entire store held the worth of this simple tub.
“All right.” Everett stuck his hand into the water and swished around drops of rose water from a bottle she’d never seen before. “It’s ready for you.”
He helped her stand, and she steadied herself before walking across the planks. A few little white stars danced on the edge of her vision, but nothing would deter her.
When his hands reached for the sides of her nightgown, she automatically clamped her arms across her chest.
He dropped his hands. “I’m sorry. I thought I could help.”
He’d changed her during her time of bed rest, but the idea of him undressing her while she was no longer sick . . . She trembled. “I can get it.”
His hands moved to steady her. “Are you sure?” His voice was soft.
“Yes . . . and you should leave,” she whispered. Her soul cringed at her words, but she couldn’t face him right now. She didn’t feel right. But would she ever feel right?
The utter silence tore at her. Tension radiated through his hands and settled on her shoulders. She’d hurt him. But she couldn’t fix it. Not now. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. She just wanted to be alone.
She hurriedly undressed and sank into the water. The heat soothed her body, but not her mind. She scrubbed with a brush and a sweet-smelling soap bar—a luxury over the soft lye they normally used. He’d probably bought this along with the perfumed water. How much had he spent on her?
Everett’s savings account was small, and paying for Helga’s departure had taken all of her savings. She had to repay him. But could she offer him what he wanted? If he knew Theodore had already ripped away her virtue, he wouldn’t want her anymore. He’d despise her. The feel of his arms she’d unwillingly dreamed about in her delirium would turn rough and uncaring, just like Theodore’s.
But Everett didn’t know what had happened in Massachusetts, and that made her feel dirty.
After scrubbing until her skin felt raw, she lathered again. Her right leg ached a bit more than the left with the heat of the water, but she stayed in, scouring.
Chapter 23
A scream from the bedroom jolted Everett from his seat. Dex sat whittling.
Everett mussed his hair, cringing as a throaty feminine growl rumbled through the walls. “This doesn’t bother you?”
Dex looked toward the door and sighed. “Yes and no. She’s done this so many times. Believe you me, this is tame in comparison with the first two.” He swept curls of wood off his lap. “But she insists a man ain’t supposed to be in there.” His fingers returned to carving. “Silly rule if you ask me. Men are the reason for it.”
“So you’ve never been in there? You just endure it out here?” Another scream rent the stuffy air in the cabin, causing his skin to prickle.
“I’ve been in once. With Ambrose. No midwife or female around at the time.” He shrugged. “Let’s just say her tongue was loosened by the experience. She wasn’t too fond of me at that moment.” A small smile formed on his lips. “Rachel’s normally good at holding her own. But that day, she was dazzling.”
A Bride for Keeps Page 23