A Groom's Promise

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  “I have a feeling Jack could be the one,” Maybell said. “It hasn’t been that long since he and Hugh arrived, so it’s too soon to expect anything, really. I wish I knew why Hugh asked my pa if he could court me. I haven’t given him any reason to like me that way.”

  “You are a pretty woman, Maybell. Maybe he’s attracted to you.”

  Maybell doubted it. “I’m not like one of those dolls Mrs. Peabody makes. They’re thin and delicate. They’re so beautiful you can’t help but stop and admire them.”

  “You don’t have to be perfect to be attractive, Maybell. There are all types of beauty. Pete loves to paint. It’s one of his favorite pastimes, and he finds a way of bringing out beauty in the simplest thing. You wouldn’t think that old barn of his would be worth painting, but when you see it through his eyes, you can’t help but admire it. I think it’s the same way with women. Different men can look at a woman, and depending on the man, he’ll see her in a different way. Maybe Hugh thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in the world when he looks at you.”

  “I don’t want him to think I’m the most beautiful woman in the world. I want Jack to think it.” Maybell steered the horses down the path that would take them closer to town. “How can I make Hugh give up on wanting to court me?”

  Ada chuckled. “It’s not often you hear a woman wanting to find ways to be unappealing.”

  Maybell’s lips curled up. “I know it’s strange to ask for help like this.”

  “You sure you don’t want to at least give Hugh a try since he has expressed an interest in you?”

  “If it wasn’t for Jack, I would. I have a good feeling about him, Ada. I really do.”

  “He is a sweet man, and Pete likes him.”

  “That’s even better. When we visit, the two can talk… Or rather, they could sign. You and I are good friends. They can be good friends, too. It’d be a good match.”

  “I do think they get along well.”

  “There you go. That’s just another reason for me to be unappealing to Hugh.”

  Ada laughed. “You don’t need to use that as a reason, but I can see you need to absolve yourself from guilt so it’ll do.” She settled back into the seat and thought for a moment. “I suppose one easy way to make yourself unattractive is to make your hair untidy.”

  Maybell considered that option and decided it was a good one. “That would be easy, too. All I have to do is let it out of the bun and shake it loose, but… Don’t men like it down? My pa used to say my ma looked like an angel when her hair fell past her shoulders.”

  “It depends on whether or not the hair has been brushed.”

  “You make a good point.”

  “We’ll come up with some more ideas,” Ada said.

  Good, because if she could get Hugh to lose interest in her, then things would be a lot easier.

  ***

  That evening in the kitchen, Maybell was busy following through with the plan she and Ada carefully came up with. Maybell mashed the small rue leaves in her mortar and pestle. As long as they were too small for Hugh to see in his bowl, that was all he needed. It was a stroke of luck a traveling merchant happened to be selling unusual medicines in town.

  The rue herb, he’d said, would be good for stomachaches, though it might make her sleepy if she took it. He’d also warned her it had a bitter flavor to it, and that was what she was after—at least for this dinner. And if it made Hugh go to sleep shortly after eating…well…there was no harm in a little sleep.

  This was a very good way to ruin his food without harming him. But even so, she kept glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching her. Her pa wouldn’t be pleased if he knew she was intentionally trying to sabotage his plans.

  Hugh would be better off with someone else. There was no doubt about it. She wasn’t the one for him. Deep down, she knew they’d make a bad match. One day, when he was happy with the woman who was a better match for him, he’d thank her. Or at least thank fate things had turned out differently.

  When the leaves were mashed into tiny fragments, she poured the steaming stew into the bowls. Hugh’s bowl was the one with the small chip in the side. No one would notice the distinction, but she would. She put the rue into his bowl then stirred it.

  Releasing her breath, she rinsed the mortar and pestle then put them aside. She set the bowls on the table then took the fresh rolls out of the oven and added them to the table. Once she finished setting everything out, she went to the porch and rang the dinner bell.

  She went back into the house and hung up her apron. As much as she hated to look unattractive in front of Jack, she reasoned she’d been around him enough so he knew she didn’t always look bad. With any luck, he’d keep that in mind this evening. She loosened her bun and shook her hair until it was one big mess. There. That should make her look unappealing.

  She unfastened the top three buttons then refastened them so that they were uneven. Then, for good measure, she went to the worktable, took a bit of parsley, and stuck it between her two front teeth. If that didn’t help dissuade Hugh, nothing would.

  Her pa was the first one into the house, which wasn’t unusual since Jack often came in a couple minutes later. When he took in her appearance, he frowned. “What are you trying to do, Maybell?”

  Sitting at her spot, she said, “I made something to eat, just like I always do.”

  “But your hair…and your clothes…”

  “Are you saying I’m not pretty?”

  He shook his head. “You know very well what I mean. Why are you trying to look unattractive for Hugh? He’s a good man. He’ll make a good husband.”

  “If that’s true, then he won’t mind my appearance. He’ll accept me as I am, faults and all.”

  She made eye contact with him, daring him to argue the point since he’d often said her mother had been a beautiful woman, even on days when she got so busy she didn’t have time to make herself presentable.

  Her pa groaned and plopped in his chair. “You’ll be the death of me yet.”

  “Don’t be silly. This is a test, and a good one at that.” And maybe it was. If Jack could still want her—if he wanted her at all—after seeing her like this, then that would be even better for her. “A man who can’t accept me at my worst doesn’t deserve my best.”

  He opened his mouth to protest, but the door opened and Jack lumbered into the house. She cleared her throat and straightened in her chair. As she hoped, her pa followed suit. Good. The argument was over.

  Jack looked in her direction and stepped back for a moment, his eyes wide. At this point, she had to look away from him. She was even ready to tidy up her hair until her gaze fell on the flowers in the center of the table. She let her hand return to her lap. It was more important she look as hideous as possible. She could pretty herself up tomorrow.

  “Come and eat,” her pa told Jack. “The stew’s going to get cold.”

  She picked up her spoon and avoided glancing at Jack as he sat in the chair at his spot.

  “I-I knew the wind was bad today, b-but it nearly t-took your hair off,” Jack told her. “I-it’s a good thing you don’t wear a wig.”

  It took her a moment to realize he’d made the joke, and she chuckled. Recalling the parsley between her teeth, she put her hand over her mouth so he—and her pa—wouldn’t see it. “Actually,” she began, “it was more like a tornado out there. I had to hold onto poor Ada when we were in town. That one is light as a feather.”

  As she wished, Jack laughed.

  And to her surprise, her pa even chuckled. “That Ada’s too skinny. Even after having that baby, she barely gained any weight. I wouldn’t be surprised if Pete has to put something heavy in the hem of her skirt to keep her from blowing away. These Nebraska winds can blow something fierce.”

  “They can,” she agreed, relieved the tension had eased between them. “Just you wait until it’s winter,” she told Jack. “There are some days you don’t even want to go outside. It’s much nice
r when it’s warm and the wind is blowing.”

  “The cold isn’t the worst part. It’s the snow when it piles up into high drifts, that’s rough,” her pa said. “You spend half the morning shoveling it away to get into the barn. I tell you, that’s when you wish it wasn’t so windy.”

  “I-I don’t mind shoveling,” Jack softly replied. He picked up his spoon. “I, um, like the ch-challenge of it.”

  She chewed her stew, surprised he chose to speak more than usual this evening. She was so used to him being quiet and listening to her and her pa. Despite his stuttering, he was pressing through it. Maybe he didn’t mind her unruly appearance so much after all.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” her pa told Jack. “I’m getting too old to get rid of snow all the time. But I suppose you’re young enough where it doesn’t make your back ache for the next couple days.”

  “You’re not that old, Pa,” she said.

  “I’m not that young either.” He shot her a pointed look. “I don’t have white hair because I’m getting smarter.”

  “You’re plenty smart.”

  “I have gotten smarter with age, but I’m not getting the white hairs because of it.” He paused then gestured to Hugh’s bowl. “Maybe you should put it on the cookstove so it keeps warm until he’s back.”

  With a nod, she picked it up and took it to the kitchen. If it was up to her, Hugh wouldn’t come at all. But she had the sinking sensation he would at some point.

  When she returned to the table, her pa was asking Jack, “Did Hugh mention going somewhere besides the places I told him to?”

  “No,” Jack replied. “He said he’d b-be back by supper.”

  “You think something bad happened to him?” Maybell asked as she dipped her spoon back into her bowl. “Like when he got sick and had to stay at the Boyers’ for a few days?”

  It wouldn’t be so bad if that happened again. It’d give her more time to find out if Jack was interested in her. She could definitely put those days to good use if she had them.

  “He won’t get sick again,” her pa said. “And the wagon is in good shape. He shouldn’t have an accident. I think something else delayed him.”

  She didn’t care what that something else was as long as he was alright. Content to eat without him there, she continued to enjoy her stew. It was especially good this evening, and though she wasn’t prone to conceit, she had to congratulate herself on getting everything perfect for this meal.

  “He m-might have talked to someone,” Jack spoke up after he swallowed a bite of his roll. “He likes to b-be around people. In Virginia, he’d sp-spend hours with people.”

  “Hmm…” Her pa rubbed his chin and sat back in his seat. “I ought to explain to him that this time of year isn’t best for mingling. Some people have already started harvesting their crops. We’ll start next week.”

  “W-whoever Hugh talked to,” Jack began, “it was p-probably important.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” she said. “And besides, Jack does work fast. He’s fixed things in no time at all.”

  She caught the exasperated look on her pa’s face but chose to ignore it. Yes, she knew he didn’t like it when she made it clear she preferred Jack, but she wanted to do everything possible to encourage Jack. When her gaze met Jack’s, she smiled, making sure to keep her lips together so he wouldn’t see that parsley between her teeth.

  “Where have you been?” her pa asked.

  She glanced away from Jack and saw Hugh coming into the dining room from the kitchen, looking as if he’d been in a hurry.

  “I’m–I’m sorry I’m late,” Hugh said.

  “Where were you all this time?”

  “I shouldn’t have, but I stopped in to see Opal and the baby.”

  Maybell’s eyebrows rose. Since when did men take it upon themselves to visit babies, especially ones that weren’t in their family?

  Her pa appeared equally shocked. “You shouldn’t have done that.” After a moment, he added, “Since you’re a newcomer to this area, you may not understand how important harvest time is around these parts. There’s a lot to do, and we can’t afford dilly-dallying.”

  Setting her napkin aside, Maybell stood up. “I’ve been keeping your food warm. You set yourself down and I’ll bring it in.”

  She brought in his bowl of stew and set it before him. God willing, that rue herb would do the trick. If men were as concerned about eating tasty meals for the rest of their lives as Ada said, then it would.

  “Thank you,” Hugh told her. “I appreciate you keeping this hot for me.”

  Hopefully, that would be the only thing he’d appreciate this evening.

  “Maybell?” her pa called out, turning her attention to him.

  “Yes, Pa?” she asked.

  “Why don’t you take what’s left of your stew and sit beside Hugh?” With a sly grin, he winked. “You two need to get better acquainted.”

  “But Pa…” She tried to think of a way to argue with him without arousing Hugh’s suspicions. It had to be his idea things would never work between them. She couldn’t very well do that if she didn’t do what her father wanted.

  To her horror, Hugh stood up and pulled out the chair next to him. She glanced at her pa again who waved her over to the spot. Then her gaze went to Jack, noting the way his brow furrowed in confusion.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t have a choice. She had to do this. She sat down next to Hugh and smiled at him, showing him her teeth—and the parsley—in all its glory. He blinked but gave no other indication that he noticed it. Instead, he returned to his seat. She watched as he took several bites of stew, his hunger probably prompting him to go faster than he would have otherwise. After a few seconds, he stopped chewing and grew still.

  She bit her lower lip. Did she put in enough rue? Was it as bitter as she hoped?

  He quickly swallowed, grabbed the glass, and drank most of it down in several large gulps. He coughed, shuddered, and downed the rest of the water.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. Good. It was as bitter as she wanted!

  “This is my best stew yet,” she told him. “I used my special recipe. What do you all think?” she asked her pa and Jack.

  “It’s good, as always,” her pa replied.

  Jack nodded and muttered a compliment, but his mood had turned considerably dark since Hugh’s arrival.

  “You alright?” her pa asked Hugh.

  Hugh coughed then grabbed a roll which he shoved into his mouth. Once he swallowed it, he said, “Oh sure, Maybell always makes the greatest meals.”

  “Yes, but my stew is especially good,” she said.

  “It’s true,” her pa agreed. “She won a cooking contest at the church with this recipe.”

  “I did.” Gesturing to his bowl, she asked, “You’re going to finish it all, aren’t you?”

  Hugh’s mouth hung open for a moment, and she could swear he gasped at the thought.

  “It’s very important that the man who ends up with me enjoys what I make.”

  “Maybell prides herself on her cooking,” her pa said. “As she should. She did outdo herself tonight. I hope she makes this more often.”

  “Oh, I will, Pa,” she replied. “I promise.” She turned her gaze back to Hugh. “I just might make this every week from now on.” Then, for good measure, she smiled again, showing him her teeth, and let out a belch so low that only he could hear it.

  He paled then got to his feet. “It’s been a long day, and I’m exhausted.”

  “Already?” she asked. “I haven’t even served my apple tarts.”

  “No. I can’t stay. I need to get some sleep.”

  “I need to have a word with you first,” her pa told Hugh, rising up from where he was sitting.

  Hugh shifted from one foot to the other then let out a sigh. “Alright, sir.”

  She waited until the two left the house before turning to Jack. “Would you like dessert?”

  His gaze went to the door where his brother and
her pa had just left. She could only guess what he was thinking. But since he was distracted for the moment, she quickly smoothed her hair as much as she could and dug the parsley out from between her teeth.

  She cleared her throat to get Jack’s attention. When he looked back at her, she scooted closer to him and smiled. “I was thinking of you when I made the apple tarts. I sprinkled some sugar and cinnamon over them to give them extra sweetness.”

  She thought he was going to say no, but then he nodded. “I’d like one, thank you.”

  Giving him another smile, she hurried to the kitchen.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next morning, Maybell tried to avoid her pa. She couldn’t avoid him completely, of course, but she hoped she wouldn’t have to see him until it was time for breakfast. Luck, however, was not on her side since he cornered her in the hallway on her way downstairs.

  “What did you hope to accomplish last night?” he asked, giving her a look that demanded she tell him the truth.

  She tried to give a nonchalant shrug, but she worried he saw through her façade. “I don’t know what you mean. Did someone not enjoy the stew?”

  “Don’t give me that. I’m your father. I know you better than anyone. You intentionally made yourself unappealing. If you want Hugh to be interested in you, you need to pretty yourself up for him.”

  She knew that, which was why she didn’t do it. But she didn’t dare tell him that. Instead, she ventured, “I was in a hurry yesterday. You told me to go to town and get material to make a nice dress and to buy a hat. By the time I came home, I didn’t have time to look better.”

  “If it’d been Jack, you would have made time.”

  “Well, you made it clear you don’t want me with Jack.”

  “Because Hugh will make a better husband. I don’t understand why you persist in going after Jack. The poor man is afraid of his own shadow. You want someone who can protect you if anything bad were to happen.”

  “He’s just nervous, Pa. When he’s comfortable, he can do anything he puts his mind to.”