Waking Lucy (American Homespun Book 1)

by Lorin Grace

  Clang! Clang! Emma made a racket in the other room, intentionally, no doubt. Lucy yawned and stretched as she stepped out of her bed and into the gathering room.

  Emma slid the last of three rounded loaves off the board and into the baking oven. Replacing the soaked wooden oven door, she sighed. “Best fireplace north of Boston. That is what your mother always claimed, and she was right.” Made of river rock rather than brick, it cooked everything just a bit better. The bread would be done as soon as the door stopped steaming itself dry. No wonder Anna had insisted on keeping the old cabin as the kitchen and gathering room when James had offered to build her a new house.

  “Mmm, smells good.” Lucy closed her eyes and inhaled. While she enjoyed the food Emma had sent, nothing compared to fresh-baked bread.

  “About time you woke up, sleepyhead. Let’s get you cleaned up and your hair washed.” Emma poured the steaming water into the copper tub near the fireplace.

  Lucy looked nervously around the room. “When will Samuel be back?”

  “Not for at least an hour.” Emma tested the water. “Don’t worry. If he and Sarah return early, I will send them out to the barn.”

  Lucy crossed the room on shaky legs. As much as she hated to admit it, she was still too weak to take care of the farm and her sister.

  “Can you get in on your own? I want to brush your hair out before we wash it.” Emma disappeared into the large bedroom to retrieve the brush from Anna’s table.

  Emma was correct. The bath felt heavenly. Lucy hadn’t realized that even her toes had carried the strain of her illness. Emma gently brushed and then washed Lucy’s hair. Then she scrubbed her back, reminding Lucy of when Emma had rubbed salve on her back years ago.

  Lucy lifted a strand of her damp hair to her nose. “Emma, it smells like summer flowers.”

  Emma patted her shoulder. “It is one of Carrie’s soaps. She is getting much better at her creations. Do you remember some of her first ones?” Both women smiled. One of her soap experiments had smelled like a wet dog and was declared unusable even for bathing animals.

  “She sent this bar up with her husband on your wedding day.”

  Lucy raised a brow, but she was too tired to argue the point with Emma. She would not find an ally in her mother-in-law. Moments later she wished she’d fought the subject of her marriage as Emma determined to make it a topic of conversation.

  “Did Anna tell you much about the ways of a husband and wife?”

  Lucy’s flaming cheeks had nothing to do with the steaming bath water. Not this. Definitely not while I am bathing! Lucy peeked from under her tresses, gratified to see that Emma also suffered from unusually rosy cheeks.

  “Of course, she told me some. We live on a farm.” Lucy didn’t know if she knew all Mama would have told her, but she hoped Emma was not going to tell her more now.

  Emma’s shoulders relaxed. She helped Lucy out of the tub and wrapped her in a warm towel. “Then, sweet girl, it is time you read the Song of Solomon. What happens between a husband and wife is beautiful enough for even a king to feel the need to sing about it.” Emma turned Lucy to look directly into her eyes.

  Lucy’s color deepened. She’d spent too much time wondering what a real kiss would be like.

  “I brought you a new shift, suitable for a bride. We won’t don it now, but when you are feeling better, I hope you will wear it.”

  Lucy was glad when Emma turned around as she slipped her old shift over her head. An image of Samuel doing the same in reverse came to mind. Lucy looked down at her feet. Was it possible to blush all the way to her toes? It certainly felt like it was.

  Lucy closed her eyes and sighed. Thinking of herself as a bride was something she was trying to avoid. Though Emma’s conversation was short, it had been more embarrassing than the one she recalled with her mother on the subject of womanhood. And not because of her state of undress. This time her husband had a name.

  Samuel loaded the last of his belongings into the wagon. He had forgotten he’d made several pieces of furniture intended for his future home before he’d left for Boston. Though some of the larger pieces were not needed at the Marden’s, he took them anyway. They could be stored in the barn until he decided what to keep and what to sell off. As he placed the last chair in the wagon, Thomas approached carrying a chunk of wood. Samuel recognized it as the piece of burl wood they discussed earlier.

  “I think you will know what to make out of this better than I do. My daughter-in-law deserves something from a piece of wood as rare as she is.” He laid the wood inside of the wagon.

  “Where are your tools?”

  Samuel pointed to the workshop.

  “Better take them to your place. Won’t do you much good here.”

  Samuel hurried to the shop. The sun would soon set, and he wanted to get back in time for his mother to make the trip back in the daylight.

  Samuel lifted a sleeping Sarah out of the wagon. She’d played hard with Mark and Daniel all day.

  Emma met Samuel at the door and ushered him in with his bundle, indicating for him to take Sarah upstairs. Samuel noted Lucy’s bed sat empty and that the straw mattress had been removed.

  “Lucy?”

  Emma tilted her head in the direction of the closed door of Anna and James’s bedroom. When Samuel came back downstairs, Emma handed him an empty crock and followed him out the door.

  “How was it with Lucy?” He surveyed the contents of the wagon, searching for the items he needed in the house.

  “Well, I got the house cleaned, and she had a warm bath. The stew is done, and there is fresh bread.”

  Samuel lifted a crate out of the back of the wagon. “And about our marriage?”

  “We did talk, but I cannot convince her that your marriage is real. That is for you to do. Marriage has to be more than words. It has to feel real. And I am not talking about what the two of you will do in there.” Emma once again inclined her head toward the closed door. “If that room is the only place she feels married, then she is right. She isn’t. Her entire life changed this last month. She lost family and gained you. Give her room to think and grieve, but not so much room she can push you away.”

  “She doesn’t want me here.” Samuel leaned against the wagon. The rest of its contents would be better off stored in the barn for now.

  “She needs you here.” Emma handed Samuel the basket of soiled linens from Lucy’s bed. “You washed and changed her while she was ill.” Not a question.

  Samuel nodded, hoping his mother wasn’t going to attempt a marital talk with him as well.

  “Was she awake?”

  “No, Ma.” Samuel raised his brows. Was his mother guessing? Or had she spoken about it with Lucy? He sighed with relief when his mother discontinued her line of questioning.

  “She trusts you. I hope she trusts you enough to tell you the stories you need to hear. Listen without judging her.” Emma handed her basket to him. “Whatever she says, she has never done anything wrong or deserved what happened. Now empty the rest of this while I make sure I have everything.”

  Samuel pulled the wagon up to the porch. Emma grabbed her cloak, shut the door behind her, kissed her son on the cheek, then climbed into the wagon. She took the reins in hand but did not move the wagon.

  “Samuel, one more word for you. Wait until she is well to make her yours. But don’t wait a single day before letting her know you want her to be yours.” Without giving her son a second to respond, she flipped the reins and ordered the horses to move off.

  Samuel stared after her, red-faced. Getting marital advice from his father was not half as shocking as hearing it from his mother. Did she think him callous enough to rush things? He’d learned about the female body at school. Even a dropout knew it unwise to get an ill female in the family way. He had the uncomfortable feeling
his mother spoke about more than healing from the illness Lucy had been battling.

  Samuel carried his crate into the house and wondered where he should put his clothes. He knew eventually they should go in the bedroom where Lucy napped, but he did not feel putting them in there now would do anything to endear Lucy to him.

  So up the stairs he went.

  Nineteen

  A thump overhead woke Lucy.

  Strange.

  Who would be on the roof?

  It took her a moment to realize she lay in her mother’s room. Her room now. Emma had left her little choice. Four windows gave the corner room more light than any other room in the house. Her mother preferred to sew sitting on the sofa tucked in the corner. The sofa had belonged to Papa Marden’s mother. Most of the furniture in the room had also come from Papa Marden and was much finer than the furniture built by her grandfather. The bed originally had a feather-filled mattress. But it made Papa Marden sneeze and his eyes water, so they’d sold it.

  Lucy would need to go through the chests and wardrobe soon and determine what to keep and what to give away. She wondered if Samuel could fit in Papa Marden’s clothes. Samuel was about an inch taller, his shoulders broader. She shook her head to dislodge the image her mind conjured up. Samuel would not be staying. His footfalls echoed overhead. Emma must have left.

  Not wanting to give Samuel a reason to come into the room, Lucy wrapped herself in her mother’s dressing gown and slipped out the door. Her gaze drifted to the open door of her little room. Emma removed the bedding and mattress from her bed and pulled down the curtain as well. Lucy wondered if Emma would return the empty tick along with the quilts next week or wait as long as possible.

  Samuel froze halfway down the stairs. Lucy stood near the table with her back to him. Her thick braid hung clean and smooth down her back. His immediate response was to go to her and loosen it, but he refrained. Lucy turned and caught him staring. Color flooded her cheeks. For a moment, neither moved. Samuel descended the last five steps as Lucy retreated a few inches until the table blocked her way. With trembling hands, Lucy pulled the wrapper tighter, unaware her attempt at becoming more modest had the opposite effect. The tightened garment outlined her silhouette all the more.

  Samuel swallowed and tried to push his thoughts down. He doubted his kisses would be welcomed. “You look much refreshed.”

  Lucy pulled her braid around and toyed with the end before nodding stiffly. “We washed my hair.” She looked at every part of the room except where he stood. “Your mother made dinner. Have you eaten yet?”

  “No, I just arrived. Sarah fell asleep on the way home. I figured I’d eat after I finish in the barn. What about you? Would you like me to dish you something?” He stepped toward the fireplace and Lucy.

  “Not yet, thank you.” Lucy’s voice was no louder than a whisper. Her legs trembled, and she started to sway.

  Samuel reached out to steady her. “Why don’t you sit near the fire?” He led her to the rocking chair. He didn’t want to mention how faint and tired she appeared. Her entire countenance had drained of color in the few moments he had been in the room. He hoped he was not the cause.

  Samuel lifted his hand to her brow, pretending to check for signs of fever. There were none, but a stray strand of hair needed to be smoothed. His hand lingered before sliding down her face. He placed a kiss where the errant hair had been. Neither of them breathed. Eyes wide, Lucy watched Samuel step back. He held her gaze a moment before retreating to the barn.

  Samuel dared to look back at the house only when he reached the barn door. Had he looked back sooner, he might have returned to place another kiss on Lucy’s head—and her lips as well. Her skin was so soft under his fingers, and the lavender scent of her hair was so sweet. He could no longer detect the stench of illness, and he wanted to celebrate. God had given him a wife!

  Whistling a happy tune, he strode into the barn. Unaccustomed to that sound, Old Brown flicked his ears and snorted.

  Lucy stared at the closed door, her fingers inspecting the spot Samuel had kissed. Surprisingly, it was not warmer than the surrounding skin to the touch, but in her mind it tingled with warmth.

  She wanted him to stay, but she couldn’t let him.

  Above her she heard her sister moving about. Sarah gained speed as she hurried down the stairs, then ran across the room and into Lucy’s lap, smothering her sister with a hug.

  Lucy wrapped her arms around Sarah and held her tight as she listened to every detail of the day recited at high speed. Dogs, cookies, and searching for a mitten were highlights. Lucy let the words flow over her, smiling and nodding when appropriate, but her thoughts were more upon the man in the barn than on his brothers.

  When Sarah mentioned a wagon full of furniture, Lucy interrupted Sarah’s tales. “Furniture? Where?”

  “In the wagon.” Sarah rolled her eyes.

  “What kind of furniture?”

  Sarah shrugged. “Chairs?”

  Lucy looked around the room. There were no new additions. Sarah must be mistaken. “What else did you do?”

  “That is all. Samuel and I camed home. What did you do? You smell pretty and not all sick and yucky. Did you take a bath?”

  Before Lucy could answer, she became aware of Samuel standing in the open doorway. She was not going to discuss her bath in front of him. Her mind filled with thoughts of another bath, the details of which she’d imagined more than once. She looked away before her blush could come to full bloom.

  Samuel shut the door. “Ready for supper?”

  “I’ll set the table!” Sarah climbed out of Lucy’s lap.

  Dashing around the table, Sarah stopped by the open door to Lucy’s room. “Lucy?” Sarah pointed.

  “I moved into Mama and Papa’s old room.”

  “Can I sleep in the big bed with you tonight?” Sarah had remembered her promise. As much as she needed more sleep, Lucy knew she needed peace. Her sister would badger her every hour until the promise was kept. She nodded her head in acquiescence, and Sarah clapped her hands.

  “Hurry and finish the table, little one.” Samuel laid out the food before Lucy could find the strength to get out of the chair. By the time she walked the four feet to the table, everything was ready. She scolded herself for her slowness. She would never convince Samuel to leave if she couldn’t even walk across the room. After the kiss this afternoon, it was imperative she get him out soon. If she’d lifted her chin, she could have turned the kiss into a real one. She couldn’t let that happen. How long would her resolve hold against such temptation?

  Sarah kept up the dinner conversation on her own, oblivious to the silent adults who were thankful for her chatter. As long as they needed to interact with Sarah, they were safe from one another.

  Too soon the meal ended. Lucy started to gather the empty bowls. Before she could stand, however, Samuel was by her side, removing them from her hands. She tried to hold on to them, but she doubted he even noticed, her attempt was so feeble.

  “Let me wash them tonight, please. Another day or two of rest and I am sure you can snatch them from my hands.” He winked before turning to the dry sink.

  Another wink! He is flirting with me. This can’t be happening. Lucy realized her mouth hung open as she watched Samuel rinse the plates. What could she do? There was no place for her to escape except to the bedroom. Going in there would be admitting she did not feel well, but her entire body yearned to fall into the big bed and sleep. With luck, Sarah would fall asleep without needing to talk. Chattering and wiggling children were a form of torture. But there was no way to put her sister off another night. And having Sarah with her was preferable to being alone with Samuel.

  Sarah had not yet mastered the art of eating over her plate and bowl. Lucy swept the crumbs she could reach into a pile, anything to ignore the m
an washing dishes. He wasn’t even grousing about it. Mr. Simms had never lifted a finger. The door closed, she looked up, and found herself alone. She hadn’t even heard Sarah ask for Samuel to accompany her to the privy. She let out a sigh. She knew she should move from the table, but she lacked the strength. She wondered if it would be more embarrassing to have Samuel find her fallen on the floor or still at the table. Stifling a yawn, she laid her head on her arms. She would hear the door open when they came in, but for a moment she could sneak a rest.

  A sudden noise brought Lucy awake and she looked up to see that Samuel had placed the Bible on the table near her. She was embarrassed at being caught asleep.

  Sarah came around the table and touched her cheek. “You have sleep wrinkles.”

  Lucy turned away, trying to smooth her cheek, as Sarah giggled. For a moment she thought she heard Samuel start to laugh too. A peek at his face revealed he could not possibly be laughing.

  “Tonight we are reading from Ecclesiastes, chapter 11. Sarah and I finished Proverbs and decided to continue reading the Old Testament.”

  Lucy listened. She’d never read the entire Old Testament in order. Papa Marden had always skipped around, reading only the stories and joyful verses. Mr. Simms had always read the verses about obeying parents and eternal punishment. Lucy suspected he made some of them up. She struggled to understand what Samuel read. The verses seemed to be a mix of both joy and rebuke. Her mind wandered as she listened. She tried to remember what came after Ecclesiastes. She started reciting the books of the Old Testament beginning with Genesis, Exodus… Psalms, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Song of—. Lucy gasped just as Samuel finished the verse.