by Carré White
There would be none of that this year. While Audra and Lucas had been nothing but welcoming, they were still mostly strangers to her. In time perhaps, they would regard one another more as family, but right now Rosalie was adrift and alone.
~*~
The next week flew by for Rosalie and she was glad of it. Her life in Boston faded to the back of her mind as Audra kept her busy, showing her around the homestead and slowly introducing her to the chores. Rosalie was still trying to get the hang of milking but was secretly proud of her progress with cooking.
“Rosalie, these biscuits are your best yet.” Audra broke open a second biscuit and buttered it liberally while it was still hot.
“I do believe I agree.” Lucas downed a biscuit in two bites.
A smile lit Rosalie’s face. Though her first try at biscuits had been rather less than edible, she was improving and each successive batch was lighter and tastier.
There was satisfaction at learning to do things for herself. Rosalie hadn’t been unhappy before, but reading, embroidery, and parties only took one so far. A cake she made herself tasted just a little sweeter.
The day was bright and clear and Lucas said he felt sure no snow was on the way. They readied themselves to go to town as Audra had promised to bring fresh chickens to the mercantile before the holiday if she were able. Audra selected a group from the large flock, and Lucas packed the birds into a spacious crate. A half dozen families in town would have a roast chicken on the table come Christmas.
Rosalie rode on the wagon seat with Lucas. He’d piled up blankets in the back, creating a comfortable, cushioned area for Audra since she refused to stay behind. The road was little more than a worn track and icy in spots. However, the sky remained a light, even gray and the sun shone like a burning white ball behind a sheer curtain.
They pulled up to the mercantile and Lucas set the brake. He lifted Audra out of the back and then helped Rosalie onto the sidewalk. They entered the store, Lucas carrying the crate.
Mr. Nelson could hardly contain his excitement. “Mercy, Mrs. Blake, please tell me you’ve brought chickens for me.”
“That I have.” Audra waddled in, her hands resting on her prominent bump. In some places, a lady would stay home in such an advanced state of pregnancy, but things were more relaxed on the frontier and there was work needing to be done.
Mr. Nelson avoided looking at Audra’s stomach. “I’m low on fresh provisions. It’s just awful, and with Christmas coming, the demand is more than I can meet.”
“Please make sure the Widow Foster receives one of these, will you?” Mrs. Foster had been alone for some time now. Her husband had passed and none of her children lived near. Now and again, men from the area helped her with repairs and other tasks.
“Well … I …” Mr. Nelson stuttered.
“You needn’t pay us for that chicken,” Audra assured him. Mr. Nelson was generally a good man, but sometimes had to be prodded into being charitable.
“Oh, I see. Well then, all right. One to the Widow Foster.” Mr. Nelson bustled to the back with Lucas behind him, bringing the crate of squawking chickens.
The mercantile door flew open, caught by the wind as a figure entered. The man unwrapped his scarf.
“Garrett!” Audra’s pleased surprise filled her face.
“Hullo there, Mrs. Blake, Miss Weld.” He nodded at each of them in turn.
“Lucas is just in the back. We’re delivering chickens.” Audra looked from Garrett to Rosalie with a secret smile and left them alone while she wandered down an aisle to look at merchandise.
Rosalie’s heart quickened as she stared at Garrett Ballinger. His friendly grin softened the hard planes of his face, making him quite handsome. She hadn’t really noticed before. It was as if the blinders had been pulled off her eyes. In Boston, she’d considered herself committed to Winslow and never looked twice at another man—at least not with womanly interest. But now, a gentle warmth stole over her as Garrett caught her assessing glance.
“How have you been getting along, Rosalie?” His voice lingered over her name.
“I’ve been fine, thank you.” Rosalie was trapped by his gaze and fought the urge to turn away. What he made her feel frightened her. How could she have any interest in another man? Her heart was shattered—wasn’t it?
“I hope you aren’t finding it too boring out here.” Garrett stepped in closer to Rosalie.
“Oh goodness, no. I’ve been so busy. I’ve been perfecting my biscuits and I learned to milk cows.” Accomplishment at such simple tasks suddenly seemed silly and Rosalie fell silent.
“I’m sure it must be an adjustment, but you seem to have the pioneer attitude.”
Rosalie blushed. He was so close she could smell the soap on his skin. Her fingers itched to reach out toward him and she clamped her hands together hard.
Lucas returned from the back of the store and broke the mood. “Hey there, Garrett.”
Audra waddled over, frowning at her husband before smiling at Garrett. “Marshal, why don’t you join us on Christmas, if you don’t have other plans?”
“I might just take you up on that. My brother is going up to Cheyenne. He won’t be back until after New Year’s.”
Lucas slapped Garrett on the back. “We look forward to having you.”
~*~
A few days later, Audra was standing at the stove when she cried out. She bent over, holding her abdomen.
Rosalie rushed to her side. “What is it?” She helped Audra to a chair.
“Get Lucas, quick. Please.” Breathless fear made Audra’s voice high and thin.
Rosalie didn’t hesitate. She dashed outside and ran to the barn, where Lucas was busy with the animals. The snow was deep and her shoes didn’t protect her feet from the bitter cold. Heavy white flakes fell thickly, clumping before they hit the ground. “Lucas! Lucas! You’ve got to come now. Audra—”
Lucas didn’t wait for her to finish, but rushed past her without a word. He sprinted to the cabin as Rosalie hurried after him. He flung open the door.
Audra held out her hand, panting. “I think … it might be time.”
“But it’s early, isn’t it?” Lucas knelt by his wife’s side and placed his hand over hers.
“Maybe. Maybe not. These things aren’t exact, are they?” Audra managed a feeble smile.
Lucas stood. “I’ll fetch the midwife.”
“Be sensible, Lucas. You’ll never make it back by nightfall. The way the snow is falling … I doubt you’d make it back at all.”
Lucas thrust his fingers through his hair in frustration. “You can’t travel like this.”
“I can. We’ll bundle up and take the hot stones from the fireplace. This snow doesn’t look like it’s easing up.”
“I can help,” Rosalie interjected. “I can sit in the back with Audra.”
Audra shook her head. “We might not be able to come back for days. Someone needs to stay to feed and water the animals. Can you do that, Rosalie?”
A lump of fear froze in Rosalie’s throat. Though Audra had shown her a good deal, she wasn’t sure she could handle everything on her own and the idea of being alone in the cabin during a snowstorm was terrifying. The pleading look on Audra’s face had her saying, “Yes. Yes, of course. I can do it.”
Audra slumped in relief and Rosalie realized how it had been weighing on her. The animals were their livelihood—their survival.
Lucas glanced sharply at Rosalie, but it was clear to them all it was the best choice. “Get everything ready. I’m hitching the wagon.”
It seemed an age but Rosalie knew it was only a few minutes before Audra was bundled in the back of the wagon under as many blankets as she could stand, hot rocks wrapped close to keep her warm. Lucas donned his heaviest gear, looking like a large bear under the heavy coat.
He grasped Rosalie’s shoulder on the way out. “You’ll be all right. Don’t be scared. There’s plenty of food. Keep the fire going. Don’t forget to bundle up well a
nd use the line to go to the barn.” And with that, he was gone into the blank white of the storm, leaving Rosalie standing alone.
Rosalie shut the door and walked to the fire. She held out her hands, seeking the warmth of the flames. What would have happened if she weren’t here? What if Audra had collapsed and Lucas hadn’t returned from the barn for a good while? The frontier seemed fraught with dangers at every turn. Just when she thought she was getting her feet under her in this new environment, they were kicked out from under her again.
What was next? Would the cabin burn down? Would snow bury them all?
“Rosalie, don’t be so fanciful,” she admonished herself. There were dangers in town as well. There was always something. The city was crowded with carriages and wagons, often traveling faster than they ought. One sick person could start an epidemic. Each environment had its hazards.
The frontier had its wild animals and long distances, but the serene quiet was growing on her. When Rosalie looked out over the snow covered trees or listened to the babbling creek, it gave her some peace. The water was clean and soot didn’t clog the air. She wasn’t ready to say she was staying for good, but there must be something between the teeming city and lonely prairie.
Lucas probably hadn’t finished caring for the animals. She needed to check on the state of the feed and water. Glancing at the clock on the mantle, she realized the cows needed milking as well.
Lucas would have taken his wife into town no matter what. Rosalie was sure of that. Upon their return, they might have found their animals in a sorry state. Rosalie was determined not to see that happen. She would do everything in her power to make sure the homestead stayed in good order during their absence.
Rosalie shook as a chill passed through her. Her shoes were uncomfortably wet and bound to get worse before they got better. She’d dry them by the fire when she returned, but now, she needed to get to the barn. After slipping on a heavy wool dress over the one she wore, she bundled up in her coat and placed a scarf over the top of her head, wrapping the ends around her face and neck. She pulled on work gloves that were many sizes too big for her hands and headed out onto the porch.
She couldn’t see the sun through the densely falling snow, but sensed dusk was near. She walked to the edge of the porch and grasped the rope tied securely to the post. It ran from the cabin to the barn. The outline of the barn in the distance was barely visible. By the time she returned, she was sure visibility would be less.
With a deep breath, she stepped into the snow and sank up past her ankles. After a few steps, her feet were numb with cold. The rope slipped through her gloves as she walked carefully forward. Her mind screamed for her to hurry, but she feared falling into the snow.
By the time she reached the barn, Rosalie was shivering uncontrollably. She shook her hands, trying to warm them.
Rosalie grabbed a clean bucket from its hook on the wall and approached one of the milk cows. “Hello there, Miss Posy. Are you going to go easy on me today?” She placed the bucket under the cow and knelt down in the straw.
After pulling off her gloves, she reached for a teat and when she touched it, Miss Posy protested and shuffled. “I know my hands are cold. I’m sorry.” Posy settled and Rosalie sighed in relief as spurts of milk entered the pail.
When the milking was done, Rosalie leaned her forehead against Posy’s warm side and patted the cow with her hand. “Thank you, Posy. Thank you for making things easy on me.” She checked on the food and water for all the animals, grateful that Lucas had completed most of the work.
The return trip to the cabin was harrowing. She could only hold the rope in one hand, as she had the milk pail in the other. The wind buffeted her and she lost her footing more than once. The porch was a welcome sight and she stumbled into the warmth of the cabin.
Rosalie arranged her pallet of blankets near the hearth and moved to shut the bedroom door, concentrating the heat in the living area. Her feet had finally warmed in front of the fire and the flesh returned to a healthy pink. She’d feared the possibility of frostbite, but she didn’t have any white patches remaining on her skin. Her feet were warm, encased in wool socks that belonged to Lucas. The socks were loose on her feet and slippery on the smooth wood floor.
Rosalie drank some of the fresh milk she’d brought from the barn, not wanting it to spoil. She paired it with the last of the bread. Perhaps tomorrow she’d try her hand at something more complicated. There would be eggs and she could handle cooking those.
She burrowed under the blankets with a sense of accomplishment. She was alone but not helpless. While she hadn’t done everything perfectly, the animals were content and she was as well. She was snug inside with a good supply of firewood and the cellar underneath her was filled with food. While she wouldn’t say she felt exactly safe, isolated as she was, she’d proved to herself she was competent for more than planning an afternoon tea.
Chapter Six
The next morning, Rosalie was frying up eggs when a frightening bang sounded on the door. She’d forgotten to latch it when she came in and panic turned her stomach over.
The door shook as it was hit repeatedly. “Rosalie! Are you in there?”
Rosalie recognized the muffled voice. She ran to the door and threw it open. A snow-covered figure fell into the cabin and she quickly shut the door against the bitter wind.
“Garrett? Garrett, is that you?” Rosalie’s heart stopped. Was he here with bad news?
Garrett fell to his knees.
“Are you hurt? Garrett, answer me!” Rosalie shook his shoulder.
“I’m all right. Give me a minute. I’m frozen clean through.”
Rosalie grabbed his coat with her bare hands. It was soaked and encrusted with snow. She pulled Garrett toward the fire and he stumbled toward the heat.
Rosalie pulled off his gloves. “We have to get this coat off you.”
Garrett tried to undo the fastenings, but his fingers were numb.
Rosalie pushed his hands out of the way, then opened the coat, pushing it off his shoulders. She tackled his boots next and found his socks saturated as well. His feet were icy.
“What are you doing here?” Rosalie demanded.
“I saw Audra and Lucas in town. They told me they’d left you out here.” Shivers wracked his body.
“They made it.” Relief flowed through her. “Did the baby come?”
“I don’t know. I was worried for you and left right after.” He paced back and forth in front of the fireplace.
“I’ve been fine. I’ve food and I’ve been tending the animals. I keep close to the fire.”
“The storm is worsening. Snow is still falling and the temperature is dropping. The wind is picking up as well. Rosalie, I—”
“Never you mind. You have to get out of these wet clothes. I’ll get you something of Lucas’s to wear. Don’t move from the fire.” Rosalie stopped briefly at the stove to move the coffee pot onto a burner and then opened the bedroom door. The frigid air chilled her right through. She hurried in, grabbed some clothing off the pegs on the wall and rushed back out. She closed the door firmly behind her.
She placed the clothing over the seat back of a chair. “Are you … able to manage yourself?”
Garrett rubbed his hands together. “Yes, I’ve thawed a bit.”
Rosalie turned her back and went to the stove. She heard the rustling behind her as he changed and her embarrassment grew. She’d never been around a man in a state of undress, and while that certainly was causing her discomfort, the main source of concern was her fertile imagination. She wondered what Garrett looked like under that sodden union suit. Was his skin pale where the sun didn’t reach? Rosalie reined in her wanton thoughts as she tended to the coffee.
“It’s safe to look now,” Garrett said with a chuckle.
Rosalie didn’t respond. She poured hot coffee into two tin cups. She steeled herself as she turned and was glad she had. Garrett had a knowing sparkle in his eye.
She crossed
the room and handed him coffee. “This should help warm you.”
“It will help, I’m sure.” He gulped the hot liquid.
“Garrett, it wasn’t necessary to risk yourself coming out here.” The thought of him lying cold in a drift of snow horrified her.
“I think it was. You have to be prepared for anything out here. You’re clearly an intelligent woman, but not experienced in frontier living.”
“I’ve been getting along,” Rosalie protested.
“Lucas wasn’t thinking,” Garrett said with a hint of anger.
“He surely was. They didn’t know how long they might be gone. They couldn’t leave the animals.”
“I have to tell you, when I heard you were out here by yourself, a powerful fear gripped me.” Garrett flexed his hand.
Rosalie averted her gaze, and her desire to keep discussing the issue evaporated. She wasn’t a coward. After all, she’d left a comfortable life in Boston and headed into the unknown. But she couldn’t bring herself to probe Garrett’s reasoning any further. Not now.
Garrett’s hair was almost dry and his pinched white skin had returned to a healthier color.
“I’ll fix us something to eat.” Rosalie added wood to the stove’s firebox.
“That sounds appealing. Give me a chance to warm all the way through and I’ll check on the animals.”
“No, Garrett, I can do it.” Rosalie did not want Garrett going back out into the cold so soon.
“I know you can, but let me, please?”
His soft please knocked the fight right out of her. She turned on her heel and headed to the trap door of the cellar.
~*~
After dinner, Rosalie cleaned up while Garrett brought in more firewood.
“Don’t you think we have enough?” Rosalie gestured to the stack along the wall.
Garrett added his armload of wood to the pile. “Not if the storm worsens. We might not be able to get out.” If the snow blew enough, a drift on the porch could block the door.
“What about the animals?” The whole point of staying on the homestead was to tend the animals. Though Rosalie didn’t want to put herself at serious risk, she’d made a promise and she intended to make good on it.