by Sy Walker
“This is the homestead,” he said as he jumped from the wagon and grabbed her trunk. The place was obviously well cared for, though there were no touches that made it feel at all like a home. The main house lay before her and it seemed soundly built and all of the outbuildings seemed to be in good repair.
“It's lovely,” she said, looking around. It was clear that he put no stock in the small touches of such a place, but she could see the potential in what he had built and she knew that she could make it a home for the both of them and that fact warmed her heart.
“Follow me,” he said stiffly, moving towards the house.
“Yes, of course,” she said, wishing that he had let her carry her own trunk. She was not used to people doing such things for her and it made her slightly uncomfortable.
“This is our house. Over yonder is the livestock barn and past that is the chicken coup and grain storage. Beyond that is our garden and the field where our wheat is grown. I work from dawn to dusk in the mines to pay off the loan I had to take to buy this place. Your job is to keep things running here while I am working. You will tend the garden and the animals, plant the wheat field and you'll have to harvest it to when the time comes. You'll cook, clean, and do the laundry and mending. If any of that sounds like too much for you, I'll take you back to the train right now,” he said without any sort of sugar coating. His forthright nature would suite her just fine, she thought. All she wanted was a place where she could work hard to make a life for herself and her family and she had no further doubts about this homestead being that place.
“It is not a problem at all,” she said, hoping that he understood how serious she was about that fact.
“Fair enough. The preacher will be here this afternoon to perform the wedding then. I do not go to town any more than I have to and neither will you,” he said bluntly. It seemed odd to her that such a young man would keep himself so separate from the society around him, but she was glad for it. She wanted only to keep to herself and she had no desire to have to tell the story of her wounds to a new town of people. She did not want to be known here as a woman who had lost everything. She simply wanted to be a wife and a partner to Terrance.
“Alright,” he said, looking as if he did not entirely believe her. It did not bother her though. She knew that she would show him quickly how much she meant what she said.
“I'll give you the tour of the inside of the house now,” he said as he moved away from her.
“I would like that,” she answered as she followed him in to the house. It was small, just well built. The walls and floor were bare, but she could see that it would be a cozy home once she had the chance to work at it.
“It's nothing fancy,” he explained, saying to almost as though it was a challenge to her. “Here's the main room. Over there is the kitchen and the pantry. You will find everything in there that you need to cook dinner for tonight. Be mindful that the preacher and his assistant will be staying so you'll need to make enough for everyone.” The kitchen was rough, with not many pots or pans but the pantry seemed full and she knew that she would be able to work with that. It was obvious that a man had been living there by himself, but he seemed to have been doing a fair enough job of it.
“Yes, of course,” she said, thinking of all the meals that she had prepared for dozens at the orphanage. Cooking for four people would be no problem at all, but she knew that explaining that would serve no purpose. Instead, she needed to show him that she was capable of all that he asked.
“Back here is my room,” he said as he gestured to a closed door. He made no attempt to open it and show her the space. Instead, he opened the door next to it as he said, “This one is yours. Go on and get settled. I need to go out to the barn to fix the wagon. I will let you know when the preacher comes. The wedding will be short and he'll want to be on his way quickly so mind that you get dinner ready soon.” The room was bare, with the exception of a bed and a small dresser. The bed was bare, with no bedding at all, yet the mattress seemed almost new and the dresser was very well built. He was looking at her as though he expected her to run or to show some kind of disappointment, but he could not have been further from understanding her. The room was twice as large as the room that she and Jana had shared at the orphanage and this room had its own window. It was much more than she and expected and she was glad to have a space to call her own.
“Yes, of course,” she said as he rushed out of the room, leaving her alone. She found it odd that he had given her a room of her own but she was very much relieved by it. Before she began to settle in, she returned to the kitchen and filled a large kettle with the ingredients necessary for a lovely, hearty beef stew that she had often made for the orphans. It was their first meal together and she wanted to ensure that she show him that she would be able to take care of their homestead for him.
She dragged her trunk to the center of the room and pulled a set of linens and a quilt from it. She and Jana had worked hard to finish them before her departure date and knowing that they had made them together made them all the more special to her. Once she made up her bed, she hung a thin set of lace curtains that the nuns had made for her as a parting gift. Soon enough, the room felt like her own and she began to relax even more.
Then, she turned to her appearance. She had worn her sturdiest dress for the trip. It was not the loveliest, but it was dark in color and the most practical. Still, she was not sure that it was the dress that she wanted to begin her marriage in. She did not have any dresses that were particularly fancy. Her clothing was all plain and dark in color, much in the style of the Sisters of Mercy at the orphanage. Jana, however, had insisted that she take an old dress of hers for the marriage ceremony itself. She had tried to make her take her wedding gown, but she had objected so sternly that Jana had agreed to compromise on a deep purple dress what had lace detailing. It was more than Lacy would ever have chosen for herself, but having her friend’s dress would make it feel as though Jana was there with her during the ceremony so she had agreed on the compromise.
She dressed herself in it while pulling out a simple day dress to change in to as soon as the ceremony concluded so that she could finish and serve the dinner. She had a small looking glass at had been her mother’s. It was one of the few things to survive the fire. She pulled it out and looked at herself, unable to believe that soon she would be a wife. She thought of styling her hair so that it shielded the scarred side of her face, but in the end she decided against it. She could not pretend to be anyone other than who she was and he needed to know that from the moment that they wed.
The preacher arrived soon enough. The ceremony was brief and the meal after was a stiff one. It was clear that Terrance and the preacher did not know each other well. The man of God continued to try to engage him in conversation, without any luck. Instead, he turned to her and asked her about her life before making the choice to leave her home and marry Terrance. The preacher seemed impressed with her religious upbringing and invited her to attend his church services. She nodded politely, but knew that she and Terrance would not be making that trip.
The preacher and his assistant left as soon as the meal ended and Terrance went to the barn to repair some equipment. She quickly got to work, cleaning up the meal and scouring every inch of the kitchen. She wanted it clean and orderly before she had to cook another meal there. She worked long hours until she was satisfied with it.
By the time she was done, darkness had fallen and she was exhausted. She was not sure when he was going to return to the house and she was not sure if it was her wifely duty to wait for him. She took her Bible from her bag and began to read it. She came to a particularly interesting passage in Deuteronomy that said, “If a man has recently married, he must not be sent to war or have any other duty laid on him. For one year he is to be free to stay at home and bring happiness to the wife that he has married.”
She wondered to herself if she would ever know such happiness with her new husband. The homestead and the life t
here suited her well. She just was not sure that Terrance would ever be a true husband to her. She had a suspicion that he wanted only an extra set of hands to labor for him. It might have bothered another girl with more romantic ideals, but for the moment it was all that she wanted. Soon, she grew tired and retired to her room. She wondered if he would come to her room, demanding his rights as a husband but he did not and she was glad of it.
Chapter 3
For weeks, Lacy labored to prove to her new husband that she would be a worthy partner for him in his mission to make their homestead a thriving place. His work ethic impressed her thoroughly. Each day, he rose before the sun and made his way to the mine that lay up the mountain. Each night when he returned home, covered in the dust of the mines and exhausted from a hard day’s labor, he ate dinner quickly and went right to work on projects around the homestead. Though she was responsible for the day to day work, he was the one who repaired the equipment and structures on the property. When he was not fixing one thing or another, he was building new fences and buildings to meet their needs as winter approached.
Each day, she rose before him to prepare his breakfast and each night she waited for him to arrive home before she ate her own dinner. He told her at each meal that it was not necessary that she exhaust herself by keeping his schedule, but she had no plans to stop. She enjoyed caring for people. For years, she had cared for the children younger than her at the orphanage. Now though, Terrance was the only person that she had to care for. Knowing how hard he worked for them and their future together, she decided early on that she was going to make sure that his life was as comfortable as she could make it.
During those first weeks, he remained distant. Any moment that he was on the homestead was spent working or sleeping. Those meals together were the only time that they spent together as husband and wife. Though they were not close, they shared a mutual appreciation for each other. It was that appreciation that led things between them to finally begin to change.
One particular day, as Terrance was making his way home from the mine, he spied her in the corral he had just finished with a particularly difficult pony that he had had on the homestead for months. He had thought it would be a good animal to have to pull small carts or to help drag lumber. The animal, however, had other ideas. It had been a stubborn creature from the start, unwilling to allow him to get close enough to even put a harness on it. He had decided weeks before that he was going to drag the thing to town next time he went to sell it for whatever he could get.
With Lacy, though, it appeared to be a different creature. He stood still, as though frozen, mesmerized by her gentle manner with the animal. Slowly, she approached the difficult creature. It appeared at ease with her immediately and she used one fluid motion to place the cart harness around its center. The animal did not fight or bolt when she did. Instead, it took a step towards her and took an apple that she offered it directly from her hand. He had known she was a hard worker, but to see her like that changed something within him. Suddenly, he wanted to know more about the gentle creature he saw before him. Perhaps, she could calm the raging storm within him as she had done for the pony.
That night at dinner, after she had served him and sat down to her won plate, he decided that he needed to truly engage with the woman who was now his wife.
“That was good work with that horse today,” he said, slightly amused by the look of surprise on her face. Clearly, she had not realized she was being observed. He had been, by necessity, so aware of his surroundings for so long that it warmed his heart to see the sweet innocence of a woman who could allow herself to be completely absorbed in a moment.
“Thank you,” she said, blushing.
“You have a good way about you with the animals,” he continued, unsure exactly how to begin to her to know her better. Her expression was wary. She was clearly just as lost in the conversation as he was.
“I've always felt connected to them,” she said, allowing herself to show the joy that animals brought her on her face. The way that her expression lit up made her look truly beautiful, despite the scars on her face. Suddenly, he wondered how he had never realized it before.
“Did you have any when you were a young girl?” he asked, glad to have found a topic that he could engage her on that would not lead her to ask questions of him that he did not want to answer.
“Yes, but I was not allowed to take them with me to the orphanage. The farm animals went to a neighbor so that didn't worry me too awful much because they were good people. My dog though, he was the sweetest thing but he wasn't much of a herder so nobody had any use for him. The sheriff took him away but I never knew where they took him. That was a hardship,” she said, biting back the sob that threatened to escape her throat. She had worked hard to keep from thinking about that moment for a very long time and it felt very much like a fresh wound to think of it now.
“I'm sorry you had to endure that,” he said, speaking both about her past and current grief about her loss.
“It's the past,” she said, rising to clear the table. He could feel her closing herself back off. When she had first come, he had been glad that she had no desire to share her past or to ask him about his. Now though, he felt a deep desire to know more about the woman that he was going to be sharing his life with.
“Why did you have to go to an orphanage?” he asked bluntly. Her eyes widened with surprise and he was himself surprised that he had asked her. Still, he wanted to know and he had no intention of taking the question back. For the first time in years, he had the desire to connect with another human and he could not step away without an answer.
“I was wondering when we would have this conversation,” she said with a weary sigh. Slowly, she put the plates in the wash bin and returned to her seat at the table.
“You don't need to talk about it if you do not want to,” he said, aware that the thought of talking about whatever darkness was him her past was causing her pain.
“No, it's alright,” she said with a sad smile on her face. She tucked her hair behind her ear, a habit he had noticed that she had when she was anxious. “It will be good for you to know,” she continued. “My family was a happy one. I was the youngest girl. I had two older brothers and an older sister. My mother and father had a homestead around the size of this one. We all worked hard but we were so happy. I was 7 when it happened. One night, somehow, the oil lamp fell on to one of the straw beds they had for us kids. The fire tore through the place so fast. I can still hear the screaming. The entire place was full of smoke and fire. I could not see anything. Suddenly, I felt a strong set of hands on my shoulders. My oldest brother dragged me across the room, fighting off the flames. He did the best he could to shield me, but as you can see, nothing was left untouched by the flames,” she said as she gestured to her scarred cheek.
“He managed to get us both out the door before the House collapsed. He didn't survive much longer. I probably wouldn't have either but our neighbors saw the smoke and came running. One of them was a midwife. She knew enough about medicine to keep me going until they could get me to the Doc. The weeks after are a blur. When my mind cleared again, I was in Denver with the nuns. They took good care of me at the orphanage. I owe the Sisters of Mercy a debt that I can never pay. They are the reason I have a life at all.” When she finished speaking, tears glistened in her eyes but she did not give herself over to the grief. Sitting there, watching her in the light of the candles, Terrance felt something within his heart awaken that he had thought long dead. Suddenly, he did not know what to do or say next. It had been a very long time since he had tried to comfort another and he had not faith in himself to say the right thing to her.
“It's getting late. You ought to go get some rest,” he said, unable to take his eyes from her. He watched her shake off her sadness and rise again from the table.
“You're right. Good night,” she said, walking slowly away from him.
“Thank you, for telling me,” he called after her. He want
ed nothing more than to say just the right thing to her to bring her some kind of peace, the kind of peace she had brought to his home. Those were the only words he could find.
“You're welcome,” she said with a smile, telling him that he must have said something right. As soon as she closed her bedroom door behind her, the room was colder for the loss of her.
The following morning, Lucy arose at her usual time, but found that Terrance had already left. It was odd, because it was a Sunday, the one day he did not have to be at the mine and she knew how little he cared to go in to town. She walked all around the farm, but she could find no trace of him. All she could think of was that their attempt at emotional intimacy the evening before had made him uncomfortable and he had gone off to put some distance between them. She could think of nothing else to do but to get to work, so she made her way to the chicken coup to gather eggs.
When he still had not returned by the time she got back to the house, she settled in to doing the laundry, a task she knew would occupy her hands and mind for at least a few hours. It was not until nearly lunch time that he came riding back up to the house. She expected him to go right to the barn and avoid her, but instead he rode right to her before dismounting.
“Where have you been? I was surprised to find you gone this morning,” she said, putting down the laundry basket she had been holding as she put the clothing on the line to dry.