by Kit Morgan
Oscar was pulling a sheet of biscuits out of the oven. “Well, Lily Fair, ya looked so purty and peaceful sleepin’ there. I didn’t have the heart to disturb ya.”
Her own heart melted at his words – how considerate! “Thank you, that was very kind. I was tired.” More than she’d realized – she’d fallen asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. She hadn’t even heard him come in, nor woken up when he’d crawled into bed.
“Would ya mind settin’ the table for breakfast?” Oscar asked.
“Not at all. Do you want me to use the same silverware we had last night?”
“Yep. We’re not fancy here.”
She blinked a few times. “Oh, I didn’t mean to imply…”
“I know,” he cut in. “I just wanted ya to know we use the same silver and whatnot for everythin’.”
She nodded and left the kitchen. He must have been thinking about what she’d told him the night before, about growing up on a plantation with slaves and money. Oh yes, at one time they’d had plenty of both. But as her father used to tell her, nothing lasts forever. How true that was.
She went to the hutch, took out silverware for ten – though she wasn’t sure if Willie and Abe would join them at the table – and set it out, then did the same with plates, bowls, cups, saucers and whatever else she thought Oscar might want. Once she was done, she returned to the kitchen. “Anything else I can do?”
“Here.” He handed her a huge tray laden with fresh biscuits. “Go ‘head and put these on the table. I’ll bring the bacon in next. The drivers’ll be comin’ downstairs any minute. Oh, and when ya come back, take the coffee pot and pour a cup for everyone. Thanks.”
Lily smiled. Oscar could run his own restaurant, probably anywhere he wanted. Hmm, maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea. But look at what he was already doing – and without having to leave the home he clearly loved.
She shrugged at her thoughts, took the biscuits into the other room and set them on the table, went back for the pot of coffee and filled each cup. She stepped back and admired her first work of the day. She’d set the right number of places, provided the drivers joined them inside (Oscar had just implied they would – lucky break there) and no new passengers had come in overnight.
Maybe one had – she saw a handsome young man descending the stairs into the main living room and recognized him as the man who was getting the silver out the evening before. This had to be Anson, the youngest brother.
“Well, lookie here,” he said happily. “Ya must be Lily Fair, my new sister!”
Wait a minute – did he say ‘sister’? Did they already consider her family? Oh dear – if it turned out Oscar didn’t want her, this would make things even more difficult. “Um, yes, I suppose I am. And you must be Anson.”
“Sure am – howdy!” He held out his hand.
Lily stared at it a moment before she gave it a shake. “Please to meet you. And you can just call me Lily.” Oscar called her “Lily Fair,” and something in her wanted to reserve that for him alone.
Anson stepped back, hands on hips. “Last night Oscar told me ya were purty, but he wasn’t tellin’ the half of it. Yer beautiful.”
Lily blushed. “Why, thank you.” She quickly looked him over. He was about the same height as Henry, but not as broad. He was also probably the best-looking of the bunch – even his distinctive White eyebrow had a little more separation in the middle. And where Oscar and Henry’s faces were round, Anson’s was more angular, chiseled, more classically handsome.
She wasn’t the only one who thought so, either. “Mornin’, Handsome Anson!” Willie said as he bounded down the stairs. “Missed ya at supper last night – good huntin’, I take it?”
“Not huntin’, really – just checking my snares. Took longer than usual, though, ‘cause the catch was good.”
“I unnerstand, though I ain’t trapped nothin’ in quite a spell. Abe traps and hunts now and then, but our schedules keep us awful busy these days.”
Anson laughed. “I know. That’s one reason I’ll never be a stagecoach driver.”
Willie smacked him on the back, then turned to Lily. “What’s for breakfast, Mrs. White?”
She swept a hand toward the table. “Well, the biscuits are done, and I do believe bacon is on the way. You’ll have to ask Oscar what else he has planned.”
“Woo-ee!” Willie exclaimed and clapped his hands together in anticipation. “That means there’s fried taters and eggs a-comin’.”
Anson saw Lily’s confusion. “Oscar and Ma have this schedule – they make certain breakfasts on certain days one week, then switch the meals the next week so the drivers don’t get the same breakfast every time they come through.”
“I like it,” Willie said as he took a seat and patted his belly. “Variety.”
Anson sat next to him. “Speakin’ of which, we’re havin’ rabbit stew tonight. Too bad yer gonna miss it.”
Willie’s face fell. “Dagnabit! I would hafta leave this mornin’. Rotten luck …”
Anson made a show of looking up and down the table like he was surveying it for a sumptuous banquet instead of a country breakfast. “Better luck next time, Willie.”
Willie shook his head in dismay and reached for his cup of coffee. “Well, them’s the breaks. Maybe next time.”
Lily, still standing off to the side, started to worry. She’d never had rabbit stew before - fricassee, yes, and jugged rabbit once, but surely not what her new brother-in-law was talking about. Would she be expected to help prepare it? Could she?
Anson must’ve caught the look on her face. He laughed and reached for a biscuit. “Don’t worry, I already skinned and cleaned them and gave them to Oscar.”
Her eyes widened. “You did?” Her mind raced – had she seen a stew pot on the stove? She couldn’t recall.
“I cain’t wait to see what sorta stuff yer gonna cook up, Mrs. White” Willie said with a smile, showing missing teeth.
She smiled back weakly. “Neither can I. I’m afraid I’m not a very experienced cook. But Oscar says he’ll teach me.” If I last that long …
“Then yer a very lucky lady.” Willie reached for a biscuit too, but stopped and looked at Anson. “Yer brother ain’t gonna come out here and hit me with a spoon or somethin’ if I take one, is he?”
“I took one,” Anson pointed out.
“Yeah, but ya live here – he needs ya to tend stock and suchlike. Me, I might be expandable.”
Lily laughed. “Whatever are you two talking about?”
“No laughin’ matter, ma’am,” Willie said. “Oscar don’t like nobody startin’ eatin’ ‘fore the meal’s all ready. Sometimes he’ll cut some slack, but ya never know when.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief. Just what sort of sentence did her husband pass when it came to roll-snatching?
“It ain’t as bad as all that,” Anson argued. “Here, Willie, take a biscuit. I’ll testify in your defense.” Willie chuckled as he took it, then reached for the crock of butter.
Unsure what to do next, Lily took the coffee pot back to the kitchen and set it on the stove. “I just met Anson,” she commented.
“Yeah, he got in too late last night to say hi,” Oscar said. “Sorry ‘bout that.”
I’m not, she thought – it had let her stall one more day. Then she chided herself: no, stop. You don’t know what’s going to happen – maybe he won’t mind them. How can you know until he sees for himself? That was the problem – there was no other way of knowing. And her whole life rested on it.
“Sleep well, chile?” Ma asked as she entered the kitchen.
Lily spun at the sound of Ma’s voice and almost tripped over her own feet. “Oh dear, I’m sorry.”
Ma raised her eyebrow at her – on the good side of her face, anyway. “A li’l jumpy this mornin’. Not enough sleep?”
“She slept like a rock,” Oscar answered before she could. “Didn’t even wake up when I went to bed.” He handed Lily a plate of eggs. “Can ya manage
?”
“Of course.” She hurried out of the kitchen, her face red with embarrassment. She was jumpy. If she’d been smart, she’d have waited up for Oscar and told him everything, gotten it over with. Now she had another entire day to worry about it and perhaps balk again, and what good would that do? Lily, you are such a silly woman, she thought as she set down the eggs and nervously wiped her hands on her skirt.
Ma followed with a plateful of bacon, then Oscar with a big pan of fried potatoes and onions, and finally Henry carrying a pitcher of cream and a bowl of blackberries. Lily couldn’t believe the amount of food he’d made, even though they were feeding ten people. The Whites might not be rich, but they – and their guests – ate like kings. After all those weeks of near-starvation, she appreciated that.
The passengers came down the stairs and joined them at the table. “Smells fine, Mrs. White,” Mr. Maas commented almost grudgingly. “I must be sure to stop here again when I travel.”
“That’s why we do it,” Ma said. “How d’ya think Oscar got t’be such a good cook?”
The lawyer looked at Oscar. “This is your work, sir. Well, I am impressed. I imagine the animal side of me will be quite happy after this repast. It’s too bad I must move on.”
Oscar didn’t turn a hair. “Glad to be of service, sir. I do like to experiment a little.”
“I used to like to experiment with my cooking,” said Martha Truitt. “But it never worked out.”
George Truitt sat next to her. “But your non-experiments certainly do.” He patted his ample belly, and everyone laughed. Lily included, though she was mostly happy to see they weren’t bickering. She still wondered what trouble Martha’s loose tongue had caused in all those places her husband had mentioned, but decided she was better off not knowing. She knew better than to ask anyway.
Ma said a quick blessing, and as soon as everyone said “Amen” reached for the bacon. Lily was surprised her prayer wasn’t longer – maybe she reserved those for when it was only family. Oscar had warned her that Ma’s mealtime prayers could get long, and embarrassing. When it came to speaking with the Almighty, she didn’t hold back. Maybe it was a good thing there were guests at the stage stop right now.
“What’re ya’n Lily gonna do today, son?” Ma asked.
Oscar was spooning potatoes onto his plate. “After we clean up the kitchen, I thought I’d show her the creek and a few other places.” He looked at Willie. “Yer gonna be back in two days?”
Willie nodded as he chewed and swallowed. “Good Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise.”
Oscar turned to Lily. “If you want to write Belle or Sadie or the other womenfolk a letter, you can send it back to Clear Creek with Willie when he comes through again.”
She stopped eating and stared at her plate. “I would like to send them a thank you note for the wedding present they gave us.”
Oscar smiled and surprised her with a wink. “Yeah, I think I’d like to add a few words when ya write it. Remind me, will ya?”
“Weddin’ present?” Henry asked innocently.
“I’ll tell ya later.” Oscar continued to eat.
Lily’s eyes darted around the table and watched everyone enjoy the fine meal. Her eyes then drifted up the staircase. She hadn’t seen that part of the house yet, but she sure liked what she had seen. She had a brief vision of sitting on the front porch in the chair Henry made for her, rocking back and forth on a warm summer evening, Oscar in a chair beside her, their baby sleeping contentedly in her lap …
Oh please, Lord, let that be so, she prayed in silent anguish. I like my new family. I know I’ve only been here less than a day, but I don’t think I could bear to leave. Please, have Oscar let me stay.
Two hours later Lily stood next to Oscar in one of the most beautiful, tranquil spots she’d ever seen. A small creek ran through a grassy area with an odd mix of maple, alder, pine and cedar trees. “Who planted these?” she asked.
“Pa planted the alder,” Oscar told her. “We think someone else might’ve planted the maple – don’t know if they were settlers, Injuns or what. Probably the same folks that built the dam, though. The pines have been here all along.”
She studied the deep pool that had been formed by the little log dam, perfect for swimming. It was ringed with grass, the various trees and lots and lots of daffodils. She took a deep breath of the sweet air, enjoying the sound of the water as it flowed over the top of the dam. “Whoever it was, they created something lovely. Like something out of a dream.”
“They certainly did.” He put an arm around her, and she stiffened slightly, then forced herself to relax. She didn’t want him to think she didn’t like him touching her, because she did – his hold was comforting, even more so in this setting. She felt like she could stand there with him, stare into the pool and listen to the birds sing forever.
“I come here to think,” he continued. “I think a lot here. Made up my mind about ya in this very spot.”
Feeling bold, she leaned into him and rested her head against his shoulder. “I like it here.”
“Everyone does. One reason we don’t show this place to folks. Call it selfish, but we like to keep it to ourselves.”
She smiled to herself. Now that she’d seen it, she wasn’t going to mention the spot to any of the passengers that came through either. “You said you made up your mind about me here?”
“Yep. Prayed real hard about it.”
She chewed on her lower lip a few times. Now was as good a time as any. “And are you … happy with how the Lord answered that prayer?”
He looked at her, studied her face, then kissed the top of her head. “Sure am. Hope you are too.”
She swallowed hard, his words cracking the callous around her heart. She closed her eyes, relishing the warmth that spread through her body. “Yes, I am.”
Oscar smiled and turned to face her. He traced a path from her cheek to her chin with his finger. “Yer skin’s so soft. So purty.”
Despite her nerves, she smiled. “Thank you.”
He chuckled. “Ya sound like I just complimented ya on a new hat.”
Her smile broadened with embarrassment. “I’m sorry … I …”
“Shhh. Don’t talk, Lily Fair.”
She blinked at him, not understanding why he wanted her to be quiet.
She quickly found out. The kiss was soft, gentle – and the first since their wedding. When she’d been so caught up with worry over what would happen when they finally got around to consummating their marriage, she’d never considered the kissing part. Granted, once he got a good look at her, all of her, she didn’t know if he’d want to …
Oscar’s other arm wrapped around her, and she reveled in the strong embrace. He was like a shelter, a protection against the world, a safe haven she’d never want to leave. But would she have to regardless? She didn’t want to, didn’t even want this kiss to stop. Wasn’t it her right as his wife to enjoy this small slice of pleasure, even if it disappeared in an instant?
Granted, she might be worried about nothing – perhaps he would accept her as she was and not send her away. But if there was one thing she’d learned from the war, it was to never assume. She had to be ready for the worst. And if that happened … well, Oscar was a gentleman, so he’d probably pay her stage fare back to Clear Creek. Then she could ask Mr. Van Cleet for a job in his hotel. He seemed a kindly man, and had mentioned at the wedding supper that he’d have to hire more folks soon. Yes, that would be her plan …
Oscar broke the kiss and gazed into her eyes. “Hello there, Mrs. White.”
Lily couldn’t help but smile. “Hello, Mr. White,” she whispered.
He glanced at the smooth surface of the pool. “Too bad it ain’t a lot warmer. We could go swimmin’.”
“Brrrr.” She shivered. “I expect it won’t be warm enough for that for months.”
He nodded. “But there are other things that are.”
She blushed, then pulled her arms from between
them and wrapped them around his waist.
“That feels mighty nice, Lily Fair.”
“I’m glad.”
He rested his cheek on the top of her head as they gazed at the water. “Ya make me feel good, honey. Real good.”
Lily shut her eyes tight, bracing herself. “Oscar … I need to tell you something.”
Chapter 11
“What is it?” he asked, pulling back a little.
Lily looked into his eyes and saw curiosity mixed with concern. “I should’ve told you this before we got married. But I wasn’t sure how you would react.” She heard the fear in her voice and wondered if Oscar heard it as well.
He did, if his creased brow was any hint. “Told me what, Lily Fair?”
She took a deep breath, then another, as if readying herself to jump in the water. “I’d tell you to sit down for this, but there doesn’t seem to be anywhere to do so,” she said, faking a laugh.
Oscar took her hand, walked several steps to his right where the grass was thicker, and pulled her down to sit next to him. “We’re sittin’ now, so go ‘head.”
Leave it to Oscar to be so practical. She plucked a few blades of grass and tore them apart, suddenly unable to form words.
Oscar put a hand over hers to still her fidgeting. “Go on, honey, it’s all right. Whatever it is ya gotta say, just spit it out.” He cocked his head to one side. “Ya ain’t ‘fraid I’ll get mad, are ya?”
She spoke before she could think. “I’m afraid you’ll put me on the next stage back to Clear Creek!” Then she burst into tears.
Oscar immediately drew her into his arms. “C’mon now, Lily Fair, it cain’t be as bad as all that. Can it?”
She nodded reluctantly. “I’m afraid it can,” she managed between sobs.
Oscar tucked a finger under her chin, raised her face to his and kissed her gently. Then he playfully rubbed her nose with his. “Tell me, honey, what’s botherin’ ya? I dunno what it is, but somethin’s been makin’ ya sad since we were in Clear Creek.”