The scene passing outside the car window caught her attention as Joe slowed his speed. They were entering a small town whose skyline was dominated by grain elevators. This must be Dutton. She watched eagerly while they traveled down the main drag, noting the small library, the post office, City Hall with one police cruiser parked in front, and finally the shops—many of which held large “for sale” signs in their front windows. Only a couple of the businesses appeared to have any customers. One was a store with the words Krause Hardware written in big letters across the front of the building.
She turned excitedly to Joe. “Does your family own that, too?”
“No,” he replied in a terse voice.
Confused, Kate looked back at the store they’d already passed. “But I thought— It’s the same last name.”
“I guess I should’ve explained.” His grip on the steering wheel tightened. “The owner is a distant cousin, but his branch of the family has never claimed mine.” He gave her a quick look. “Their prices are too high, and we never do business there. If we need anything, we go to Flint Rapids.”
“Oh—well . . .” her voice trailed away as she squirmed uncomfortably in her seat.
Joe’s grip on the wheel eased. “It’s an old feud and has nothing to do with us.” He grinned at her. “You’re going to be too busy raising our child and I’m too busy farming to worry about ancient history.” With a nod of his head, he motioned toward one of the buildings. “And speaking of children . . . that’s Dr. Adams’s office. He’s just a GP, but he’s been delivering babies around these parts for years. I want you to make an appointment with him and get started on your prenatal care as soon as possible.”
Kate grimaced. “I don’t like doctors.”
“I know, sweetheart,” he replied gently, “but you haven’t seen one yet and we want to make sure everything’s okay, don’t we?”
“Of course, but I’d rather use a midwife,” she answered stiffly.
“Kate, I imagine the closest midwife is in Flint Rapids and I want someone in Dutton. Dr. Adams will be fine.”
“I’m not going to let him pump me full of synthetic substances,” she shot back, not hiding the stubborn tone in her voice. “I’m sticking with my organic vitamins.”
He sighed. “I understand your love of all things natural, but you’ll need to do what the doctor thinks is best.”
“Like my mother did?”
“Oh, sweetie,” Joe said, reaching out and clasping her hand. “It must’ve been hard losing your mother when you were only a teenager, but your mother’s doctor was a quack.”
“A quack who caused her death.” Her lips settled in a bitter line. “He wouldn’t listen to her . . . dismissed her complaints as hormonal,” she replied, making quotes in the air. “If he had paid attention to her symptoms, they might have caught the cancer in time.”
“And he paid the price, didn’t he? You received a nice settlement.”
“You mean my grandparents received a settlement, and it didn’t make up for losing my mom.”
He released her hand. “Kate, I’m sorry about what happened to your mom, but it’s in the past and you can’t let it affect our future,” he said, his tone short. “Your health and that of the baby are important. I don’t want a midwife handling your care.”
Kate rubbed her hand across her forehead. “But I don’t trust doctors.”
“You trust me, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Then trust me to make the right decision for you.”
She let her hand fall to her lap and studied his profile once again. It was hard. For so long she’d been on her own—responsible not only for her own life but for that of her grandmother. She wasn’t accustomed to anyone wanting to care for her, for a change—someone who wanted to share her burdens. Hadn’t he been overjoyed when he’d learned of her pregnancy and insisted they get married sooner rather than later? She needed to learn how to rely on her husband.
Turning toward him, she smiled. “I’m sorry. I do trust you, and if you think Dr. Adams is the best choice”—she hesitated and swallowed hard—“then that’s good enough for me.”
A broad grin crossed his face. “That’s my girl.”
Kate fell silent as they left Dutton and continued to head north on the county road. Soon the small town was replaced by field after field of crops growing in the hot summer sun. They drove by a few farmsteads, but mostly the landscape was nothing but flat land with an occasional rise. The only other buildings Kate saw were long, narrow sheds; and as they drove by, she caught the distinct odor of manure. Crinkling her nose, she tapped the window.
“What are those?”
“Hog confinements.” Joe glanced out his window. “They hold maybe seven to eight thousand hogs.”
Kate waved a hand in front of her nose. “No wonder it smells.”
“But, honey, hogs are mortgage payers.” Joe shot her a grin. “And that stink is the smell of money.”
She didn’t care if hogs were moneymakers. She couldn’t imagine breathing that odor day in and day out. “Are there any near your farm?”
“No—not any big operations.” He gave her thigh an affectionate squeeze. “Don’t worry, city girl. Our hog lots are away from the house.”
She continued to watch the landscape until Joe nudged her arm.
“There. Up the road,” he said as he turned off onto a gravel road. “That’s my farm.”
In the distance, a large white farmhouse sat on a slight rise, and Kate felt her excitement kick in. At last, she’d see where she intended to spend the rest of her life.
Joe slowed and made a turn onto a long driveway leading up the rise. Closer now, the two-story house was even bigger than it had appeared in the distance. It was surrounded by maple trees and had long windows shaded by lace curtains. A wide porch wrapped around two sides. The house looked solid, like something that had withstood the test of time. A delighted smile played across Kate’s face as the car came to a stop.
“Here we are,” he said, shutting off the car and leaning over to give her a quick kiss. “Welcome to your new home. I know you’ll be happy here.”
Home. A thrill ran through her as she glanced back at the house and was surprised to see one of the lace curtains flick to the side.
“Joe,” she said, turning back to him, “there’s someone at the window.”
“Umm . . . I didn’t expect—” He broke off suddenly and his cheeks flushed as he pulled the keys and opened his door. “I’ll explain inside.”
Kate’s attention returned to the house. Explain inside? Her mind flew to what that explanation might be. She’d heard about how neighborly farm families were, and she wondered if Joe hadn’t planned a little surprise for her by inviting all of his neighbors by in order to welcome his new bride. How sweet, she thought, smiling over at him. Their wedding had been at the courthouse with her friend Lindsay acting as her witness, and a deputy was drafted into the role for Joe’s witness. Kate’s lip curled. The only “guest” had been her grandmother. It hadn’t exactly been her dream wedding, but they hadn’t had the time to plan a large ceremony and reception. Now he was trying to make it up to her.
When Joe got out and retrieved their luggage from the trunk, she flipped the visor down and quickly fluffed her short brown hair. She wished she’d worn a more attractive outfit than a T-shirt and blue jeans. Oh well, she thought, snapping the visor shut, they’ll have to accept me as I am.
“Hey,” Joe, with his arms full of luggage, hollered from the front porch, “are you going to sit there all day, or do you want to see your new home?”
Laughing, Kate scrambled out of the car and joined him on the porch. She waited for him to set the luggage down and carry her over the threshold—and when he didn’t, she took a deep breath and stepped inside, silently preparing herself for the shouts of “surprise.”
The small hallway with stairs leading up on her right was empty. Perplexed, she glanced over her shoulder at Joe,
who’d followed her through the door and was now stacking the luggage by the stairs.
“Come on,” he said, taking her arm and guiding her through a large doorway to her left.
She found herself standing in the living room, or parlor as she supposed it should be called. A large brick fireplace dominated the far wall and its mantel was covered with ornate frames holding pictures of past generations of Krauses. The golden pine floor was partially covered by an area rug. Around the rug sat a couch and two armchairs, definitely Victorian by the looks of them. On all three, the arms and backs were protected with lace doilies. Small tables crowded the room—their surfaces covered with more pictures. With all the froufrous sitting around, this room had to be a nightmare to clean.
Her attention moved to the windows. Dark floral drapes with heavy, braided tiebacks hung over the lace curtains Kate had already noticed. All in all, the whole atmosphere was dark and fussy, and Kate felt she’d stepped back in time.
Her eyes narrowed. This would never do. She appreciated history as much as the next person, but there was no way she could imagine herself curling up on that stiff couch to enjoy one of her favorite books. She’d want to keep the same Victorian feel to the room, but make it more comfortable. If the rest of the house looked the same, she had her work cut out for her—turning this museum piece of a house into a home.
An antique music box on one of the end tables caught her eye. She lifted the lid. “When Johnny Comes Marching Home” began to play, but she noticed some of the notes were skipped. Joe quickly joined her and, with a grimace, shut the box, silencing it.
“That’s been in the family for a long time,” he said, swiftly, “and some of the notes miss. We don’t handle it.”
“I’m sorry,” Kate said, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean any harm.”
He threw an arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I acted out of habit.” He chuckled. “If you knew the number of times Ma dusted the seat of my pants for doing the same thing, you’d understand my reaction.”
Kate smiled up at him.
“Well, what do you think?” Joe asked with his voice full of pride.
“The architecture is lovely,” she replied, gauging her words, “but—”
Suddenly, an elderly woman appeared in the doorway leading into the dining room and cut off Kate’s words.
“It’s about time you got here,” the woman said, her voice critical.
“I thought we agreed—” Joe began.
“We’ll talk about it later,” the old woman said, cutting him off as she looked directly at Kate.
Her gray hair was gathered tightly away from a face webbed with wrinkles. She wore an apron over her plain housedress and her support stockings were rolled just beneath its hem.
Kate took a step back as she looked into the woman’s narrow brown eyes—eyes that were sizing her up. Kate shifted uneasily. From the rigid lines around the woman’s mouth, it was apparent that she wasn’t impressed with what she saw.
Kate shot her husband a questioning look. He hadn’t mentioned a housekeeper, but it only made sense. A man as busy as Joe would need someone to look after his home.
The old woman’s gaze shifted from Kate to Joe. “I expected you an hour ago.”
Joe exhaled slowly and, taking Kate’s arm, pulled her toward the woman. “Sorry, we got a late start.” He dropped Kate’s arm and leaned in to give the woman a peck on the cheek.
The woman was definitely not his housekeeper.
“Kate,” he said, placing his arm around her waist, “I’d like you to meet my mother, Trudy Krause.”
Kate’s stomach sank. Oh my God, the woman who had been appraising her so closely was her new mother-in-law.
She plastered a smile on her face and took a step forward, holding out her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
Joe’s mother let her fingers brush Kate’s hand before crossing her arms over her apron. “Welcome.” She turned to Joe. “Come on. Dinner’s not getting any warmer while we stand in here flapping our jaws.” She pivoted on her heel and marched toward the back of the house.
Looking up at her husband, Kate raised her eyebrows in a silent question.
“Sorry,” he whispered, taking her arm and leading her through the dining room. “This wasn’t my idea.”
Kate paused in the doorway to the kitchen. It looked a little more modern than the parlor, but not much. Faded gray linoleum covered the floor. Glass-fronted white cabinets ringed the room over a pitted gray Formica countertop. Only the stove and refrigerator looked new, and Kate couldn’t help noticing that the kitchen lacked both a dishwasher and a microwave.
Mrs. Krause waved a skinny arm toward the table covered with a yellow vinyl tablecloth. Three place settings were laid out. “Sit down and let’s eat.”
The food she referred to had already been placed on the table. A bowl of mashed potatoes, a platter of fried chicken, and a tureen of what looked like congealed gravy. Two flies inched their way across the plastic, headed for the chicken.
Without warning, Trudy grabbed a fly swatter from the edge of the counter and, with one smack, killed both the flies.
Kate cringed as she watched Trudy fling them off the table with a practiced flip of her wrist.
She cleared her throat and smiled at her mother-in-law. “Mrs. Krause, it was so nice of you to fix us lunch.”
“Dinner,” Trudy replied in a clipped voice as she placed the fly swatter on the counter and pulled a chair away from the table. “Only city folks have lunch.”
“Right,” Kate said with a nod and took her place across from Trudy, “dinner, or whatever you want to call it.” She gave a nervous laugh. “It was kind of you to come by and prepare it for us.”
Trudy snorted and flicked her attention toward Joe, who sat at the head of the table. “Come by? Didn’t he tell you? I live here.”
Chapter 3
Summer 2012, the Krause family farm, Braxton County, Iowa
Kate, would you please calm down and let me explain?”
She slammed the dresser drawer in her new bedroom and whirled around to glare at her new husband. “Why didn’t you tell me that your mother would be living with us?” she asked, brushing away the angry tears.
“She’s not,” he replied, shifting his weight on the old double bed.
“Really?” She hugged herself tightly. “That’s not the way it looks right now.”
Joe hopped off the bed and came to her with swift strides. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he tried to pull her toward him, but she refused to budge. “It’s temporary.”
Kate took a step back.
“I know this isn’t what you expected,” he said quickly, “but if you’d let me explain.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m waiting.”
“She wasn’t supposed to be here. She was supposed to give me a chance—” He faltered and ran a hand through his hair. “I really thought the situation would be resolved before the wedding.”
“How?”
“Ma’s name has been on the waiting list at the retirement apartments since the day I decided to ask you to marry me. She was supposed to move last weekend, but there was a problem with the apartment.”
“What kind of a problem?”
“The last tenant destroyed the interior. Now the landlord has to replace all the flooring and repaint the walls.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. And it’s going to take a month or so to finish it.” He traced a cross over his heart. “I swear . . . once it’s done, she’s moving.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, not softening her rigid stance.
“I didn’t want it to be a reason to postpone the wedding.”
“So you decided to keep it a secret?”
“Okay, not the smartest decision on my part,” he acknowledged. “But I thought once you saw the house and you understood the problem, you’d be okay with this temporary arrangement. She’s my moth
er. I can’t kick her out of what’s been her home for forty years.”
“I get that, but you should’ve told me before the wedding. I don’t like being caught unaware.”
“I know and I’m sorry.” His lips twisted in a frown. “I never intended for you to be blindsided. Ma was supposed to stay at her friend’s until I had a chance to explain.”
Kate felt her anger ease at the dejected expression on his face.
“And I was afraid,” he continued in a low voice.
“Of what?”
“That even with the baby, you might decide not to marry me.”
“Because of your mother?”
“Yes.” He looked down at his feet. “Not many women would want to take on a man who’s lived with his mother all these years,” he answered in a soft voice. “I worried that you might be one of them.” Raising his eyes, he searched Kate’s face. “I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you and the baby.”
“You should’ve trusted me.”
Joe brushed a strand of hair away from her ear and leaned in close. “I know . . . this is a terrible way for us to start our new life together.” He placed a soft kiss on the crook of her neck. “After meeting your grandmother, I should’ve been honest with you—”
“What has my grandmother got to do with this?” she asked, jerking away.
Joe stepped back. “Nothing . . . it’s just . . . well . . . meeting her and all . . .” He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “I can tell your grandmother’s given you a hard time over the years, but my mother is nothing like her—”
Kate cut him off as she felt her anger spike. “And you think that I would do anything, even if it meant living with your mother, to get away from her?”
He shook his head. “No, that’s not what I meant at all, and don’t go putting words in my mouth.” His face flushed. “I meant it as a compliment. I can see now the sacrifices that you’ve made for her, and you wouldn’t have made them if family didn’t matter to you. I should’ve known you’d accept my mother.”
The Widows of Braxton County Page 2