by Barbara Goss
She ran to catch up to him. “I planned on paying for those. I have money.”
“Save it for my birthday or Christmas or something,” he said. He proceeded to pay for the dresses. “Is there anything else you need?”
“Maybe a few toiletries.”
“Well, pick them out,” he said.
She picked out a brush, comb, soap, and a few yards of flannel, cotton, and rayon. She noticed that despite what she’d said earlier about leaving the marriage, Pete acted like they’d be together forever.
The subject was not mentioned again.
Next, they went to the furniture store and Elaina picked out a stove. She was careful to watch the prices and choose the cheapest, since she knew money was tight. She’d chosen a small, narrow stove, made by New Pioneer. It wasn’t big, but it had everything she needed, although the burners were very close together, and the oven was extremely small.
Pete looked at it. “That’s an excellent choice, but what about this one?” he said, pointing to a more expensive model.
“Of course it’s better, but it’s more expensive.” She looked at the description. The stove was made by Home Comfort. It was much bigger than the other one and had everything she needed: automatic, swinging oven door, slide draft, an extension shelf on top to store things, and large burners; she loved it.
“In the long run, if you like it better, then you’ll be more satisfied with it,” he said. “I’m afraid if we get the cheaper one you’ll be wishing for a better one within a year.”
Elaina wondered if he’d forgotten she might not be there in a year if at the end of the week she was still of the mind to end the marriage. He seemed very sure of himself.
“I’d love that one,” she said, smiling up at him.
“It’s just a few dollars more, but I think you’ll like it so much better.”
Pete took the catalog up to the storekeeper. “We’d like to order this one.” He pointed to the stove in the book.
“Good choice. It's one of our best sellers,” the storekeeper said. “I’ll order it today. You can expect it in about a month to six weeks.”
Next, Pete took her to the mercantile and told her to look for material for curtains, sewing supplies, and covers for the furniture, while he went to the opposite side of the store.
Elaina wasn’t sure how much she should spend, so she tried to pick wisely and economically. When she brought her selections to the counter, Pete was already there waiting for her. He paid for the items and escorted her to his buggy.
He drove to the blacksmith's to pick up his repaired spring, and they headed home.
About half-way home, he pulled the buggy across a field and stopped it beneath a large shade tree. Elaina gave him a puzzled look. What in the world was he doing?
He reached into his pocket and took out a gold band. He took her hand and was poised to slip it on her finger but hesitated.
“I know we agreed to give our marriage a week, but if you’d wear the ring I'd be a happy man—at least until then. I want everyone to know you’re taken—at least for now. There are a lot of Clydes around town.”
She nodded, and he slipped the ring on her finger.
When they got home, Pete fixed the oven door and called to Elaina, who was already sewing curtains. She set them aside and went into the kitchen to meet him.
“How about chicken tonight?”
“Oh, I couldn’t watch you kill one of those hens.”
“But sometimes we have to,” he said. “I’ll do the honors. You can wait in here.”
When he returned, he was carrying a dead chicken by the neck. He had the thoughtfulness to remove the head. Had he not, it would have sent her over the edge.
“When you want to cook a chicken or make a chicken soup, just let me know, and I’ll kill one before I leave for work in the morning,” he said. “Have you ever plucked a chicken before?”
“No, but I watched my mother do it. I think I can handle it,” she said, “but how will we cook it?”
“We can roast it in the oven. I’ll get the stove fired up while you pluck,” he said.
Elaina liked having him work with her. It lessened her stress, and he was good company, besides.
“What should we have along with the roast chicken?” she asked
“I’ll go to the garden and pick some carrots. We can slice them and lay them alongside the chicken,” he said.
“How do you know all this stuff?” she asked.
“My brother and I lived here for quite a few years alone, and after many mistakes, we finally figured out how to survive,” he said.
“I’ll go to the garden and get the carrots,” she said. “Shall I get anything else?”
“I brought up some peaches yesterday and they’re still on the counter. We could beat up some cream with the milk I brought in and have peaches and whipped cream for dessert.”
“Brilliant.” Elaina was impressed with his cooking knowledge.
They enjoyed a delicious dinner.
After they’d eaten, he'd even helped her boil water for washing dishes and dried while she washed. Elaina thought it felt almost comfortable working together like that. They chatted idly about nothing special while they worked. When they were done, Pete showed her the best place to throw the dishwater outside, and then he poured each of them a cup of tea he’d brewed with the leftover hot water.
“Shall we take our tea in the sitting room and relax?” he said.
They seated themselves on opposite sides of the sofa. Neither of them said a word for several minutes.
“Do you feel any better about things?” Pete asked.
“I feel much better.”
“Please don’t be offended by my next question, but I’m curious: how is it your mother didn’t teach you things or have you help around the house, especially in the kitchen?” he asked.
“My mother was the head of our house, you might say. Dad went along with pretty much whatever she decided. I guess you’d say she was in control of everything. She didn’t let us do very much. She just assumed it wouldn’t get done properly unless she did it herself,” Elaina said, stopping to sip her tea. “Oh, she made us make our bed and sweep the floors, and we set the table and did the dishes, but she kept control of everything else.”
“Didn’t she realize that someday you and your sister would need those skills?” he asked.
“I guess she didn’t,” Elaina said. “She was so controlling that my brother and his wife left town because of it. His wife, Elizabeth, refused to do things my mother’s way and rather than have his marriage fall apart, Joe decided to move to Columbus. He's an accountant, like my father, and got a job working for a big company.”
“Tomorrow,” Pete said, “I’ll run into town and buy us some beef and we’ll make some stew.”
“I’d like to try to make biscuits.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” he said as he downed the last of his tea. “And on Sunday, we’ll go to church.”
“I had a visitor yesterday,” she said.
“Really? Who?” he asked.
“Amber‒I think she’s married to one of your friends.”
“Ah, yes, Garrett’s wife. She’s a lovely woman. They’re very happy. She was a mail order bride, did she tell you?”
“No, she didn’t. Tell me about it.”
“Well, I don’t know the precise details, but Garrett’s brother, Charles, sent for her, and she fell in love with Garrett, instead. Charles is…well, he’s just very different. Amber ended up with the better of the two.”
“Amber said she’s having a baby in a few months. I liked her. She said we’d be friends.”
“Did she? Well, we'll pay them a visit someday, then. I know you’ll like my friend, Cole, and his wife, Abigail, too. That was a fiery match, but they managed to fall in love and they seem happy together.” Then almost to himself he said, “Odd how that works.”
Elaina tried to remember how her mother had made biscuits. She used to watch
her make them, but she wasn’t sure of all the ingredients. Now, she wished she hadn't offered to make them, but at the time it seemed like the right thing to do. Maybe by tomorrow she’d think of the ingredients she needed besides the flour, eggs, and milk.
Pete was trying hard‒she had to give him credit for that‒but still, something didn’t feel right about their relationship. She had the feeling he needed more of a maid than a life companion. He seemed more interested in teaching her her wifely duties, than the most important part: love, and romance.
At night, they retired to their respective bedrooms.
The next day, Pete showed her how to churn butter, how to nudge the chickens, and how to do the laundry.
The next night’s supper was easy as they had the leftover chicken that had been wrapped and stored in the root cellar. She planned to do what her mother did with leftover turkey or chicken: put the meat in gravy and pour it over mashed potatoes or rice. She was sure it would please Pete, who was outside working in the garden. She’d saved the drippings, so gravy would be easy.
She felt confident she could learn to cook. It was just the stove that threw her off kilter; it got far hotter than it should. At home, they’d always left a huge teakettle on the stove filled with water, and it was always warm, so if you wanted tea, you just tossed some coal in the stove and the water was hot in no time at all. With this old stove, the kettle was always so hot you had to pick it up with a towel or you’d burn your hand. She hadn’t tried the oven yet‒Pete was the one who had roasted the chicken.
Since she had dinner under control, she went out to help Pete in the garden. He was bent over, weeding, but when he saw her, he straightened and smiled at her. Lately, his smiles seemed to reach his eyes, like he was truly glad to see her.
“Need any help?” she asked.
“Always,” he said, with a broad smile. “But you should have gloves on to weed. I have extras in the barn, but why don’t you just pick us vegetables for tonight’s supper, instead. Anything but carrots, since we had them last night.”
“All right,” she said gazing down the rows. “How about some green beans‒they look so plump and delicious.”
“Sounds good,” he said. “Do you need help with supper, Elaina?”
She smiled proudly. “No, I think I have it under control.”
“All right!” he exclaimed. “That’s exactly what a hungry husband wants to hear.”
Just as she thought: she was more his personal cook than his wife. She hoped she’d be able to last the week with him.
After she thought about it, she had to admit he’d been pretty good about everything since their talk, offering to help and all. She just wished he’d show some personal interest in her.
The next morning, she decided to surprise her husband with a nice breakfast. She got up before Pete, fired up the stove, gathered a few eggs, brought some smoked ham up from the cellar, and made coffee. She felt encouraged by his pleased reaction to the dinner the night before when he'd gobbled it down and even had seconds without a single word about the lumps in the gravy. She felt so proud of herself.
She browned the ham, but when it came time to cook the eggs, she grimaced‒the stove was too hot. She’d have to wait until Pete came down to do the eggs. She didn’t want to spoil the breakfast.
There was still half of a coffee cake left over from the other day when Amber had brought it over, and she put that on the table too.
She waited for Pete to come down, but was surprised when he came in the back door, rather than from the upstairs. He set down a pail of milk.
“Well, this is a surprise,” he said. “Smells delightful.”
“I need a bit of help with the eggs,” she said. “The stove cooks them too fast.”
“Here’s what I do, Elaina.” He took the frying pan and put it off to the side of the burner. “I don’t keep it right on the burner. The wood inside makes the whole stove hot, so you don’t need to put some things right on the burner. Here, let me show you.” He cracked the eggs into the pan, put it on the burner, and as soon as the whites of the eggs began to bubble, he pulled it off. The eggs continued to cook but slower.
“I learned this trick from my mother,” he said. He took the teakettle, poured a bit of water into the frying pan, and put a cover on it. “This will steam the eggs.”
“How do you like yours?” he asked.
“Sunny side up so I can dip—oh, no! I forgot the toast.”
“We didn’t make bread. We’ll make some later today,” he said.
“Then make my eggs a little more well-done.”
“I’ll flip them for a few seconds.”
She watched him in awe of his cooking ability.
Later, she watched with admiration as he mixed the dough for bread, kneaded it, and patted it into a loaf. What a delightful wife he’d make someone, she thought.
After they’d made bread, he put the loaf aside to cool and announced he was going into town to buy meat for stew.
“Could you drop me off at Amber’s for a visit and pick me up on your way back?” she asked.
“Certainly. I’d be happy to.”
She’d planned to ask Amber how to make biscuits.
Chapter 6
Amber’s maid served them tea.
“I envy you, having a maid,” Elaina said.
“I grew up in the South with servants doing all of our housework, so I don’t even know how to make a cup of tea. I had a dowry that’s still paying for the maid, but Garrett's promised me I’d always have one. And when the baby comes, he said he’d hire me a nanny, for the first few months at least.”
“I need to know how to make biscuits. I promised Pete I’d make them tonight with the stew he’s making. I need to know all the ingredients,” Elaina said.
“I’ll be right back,” Amber said.
When Amber returned she had a piece of paper that she handed to Elaina. “Maggie wrote the complete recipe for you.”
“Oh, great. Please thank her for me.”
“I shall,” Amber said, “but tell me: how are you and Pete getting along? Is he upset because you can’t cook?”
“No, he isn’t—well, he was a bit at first. I broke down in tears and told him I was finished with the marriage. He wasn’t happy about that, so he took a few days off from the job, and is working with me and showing me how to do things. Amber, he’s an excellent cook!”
Really? So how’s that working out?”
“I still hate cooking, especially on that old stove. We haven’t consummated our marriage yet, so if things don’t get better, I’m afraid I’m going to call it quits. Pete's made no romantic advances toward me at all. He just seems to want a housekeeper and a cook more than a wife.”
“You haven’t consummated the marriage?” Amber sounded shocked.
“No. How could we when we’ve never been to that stage of the relationship? He hasn’t even kissed me yet. All he seems to worry about is his next meal.”
“Oh, dear.” Amber pressed her lips together in thought. “If things don’t work out, Edna Smith will put you up until you decide what to do. She’s a sweet little widow who’d love the companionship. I stayed with her before Garrett and I got together.”
“Pete said you were a mail order bride, too. Tell me all about it,” Elaina said.
While Pete made the stew, Elaina worked at making her biscuits. As they worked, she filled him in on details of Amber’s experience as a mail order bride.
The stew smelled delicious. Elaina was waiting for the biscuits to cool enough to remove them from the pan.
Pete set the table. He dished each of them up a heaping bowl of the stew. Elaina used a spatula to remove the biscuits and put them on a platter. They sat down to the mouth-watering aroma of the stew.
As usual, Pete said a prayer, and then they began to eat. Pete grabbed a biscuit and tried to take a bite, she saw him grimace, so she picked one up, dropped it with a thud, and broke out into tears. The biscuits were as hard as a r
ock. What had she done wrong? She ran into the sitting room, plopped herself down on the sofa, and cried.
Minutes later, Pete sat down beside her. “It’s all right. It’s your first try at it,” he said.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she cried.
“You’re giving up?” he asked.
She nodded, still crying, her hands covering her eyes.
Pete put his arm around her and hugged her.
Elaina melted into his arms thinking: now he decides to get romantic! She swiped at her tears from within his arms. Pete was rubbing her back, but then he pulled her to her feet, and hugged her closely to him. Then he stepped back and started to wipe away her tears. “Let’s eat. Who needs biscuits, anyway?”
Elaina moved back into his arms. She liked being held by him. Despite his wanting a cook and housekeeper more than a wife, she craved to stay within his arms. She laid her head on his chest and hoped he wouldn't let her go quite yet. He put his arms around her again and hugged her to him. Maybe he’d even kiss her, which would surely change their relationship for the better.
They stood there in the embrace without speaking.
Pete let go of her, but she flew right back into his arms and put her head on his chest. He wasn’t sure if she wanted a hug or comfort. Did she expect romance? He wasn’t sure what to do. Since she'd threatened to end their relationship, he dared not make a move toward romance until he knew for sure where he stood with her.
Since she didn’t move and seemed content with her head on his chest, he rubbed her back some more, and when he did that, she snuggled even closer. Now he knew she expected more. Should he kiss her? Is that what she wanted? Heck, he’d go ahead and consummate the union if she wanted him to, however, now he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He felt totally confused. He wanted to be sure she was going to stay in the marriage before getting more emotionally involved.
She couldn’t cook, she cried at the least bit of disappointment, and it was she who had wanted out, so he couldn’t figure out where to go from here. He’d taken off from work, he’d worked alongside her all this time, and she still wasn’t happy. He felt ready to give it all up, too.