by Jillian Hart
“It’s not your decision,” Adam said more harshly than he intended. He realized in some surprise that it wasn’t just for Hannah. He didn’t want the woman to go back, either.
Then a quiet sob escaped his daughter.
Eleanor reached a hand across the table and covered Hannah’s small one with her own. The woman and his daughter looked at each other and smiled.
“Tomorrow will be fine for the wedding,” Eleanor finally said quietly.
“Good.” He nodded even though he realized what he’d seen. The woman was staying for his daughter’s sake. He told himself it was for the best, that this is what he had wanted. There was no reason for him to feel disappointed.
Suddenly, he wished he had met this fine woman years ago when he could have courted her properly. He used to have a reputation for being a smooth dancer and witty enough to be sought after in society. Of course, that was before he’d joined the army. And gotten married and become a widower. So much had happened since then, he wasn’t sure he remembered how to be charming anymore.
“I should go get that buffalo robe,” he said finally, turning to leave.
“If you bring in the wood, I’ll see that the fire keeps going all night,” Eleanor offered as she looked up at him. “You’ll be warm enough if you bed down on the back side of the fireplace.”
He nodded as he walked to the door. The sooner everyone went to bed, the earlier they would get up in the morning and make their way into Miles City. He’d need to unload the wagon so they’d have room to bring back all of the supplies they needed.
Suddenly, he wondered if they had any silk ribbons at the mercantile he could buy for Eleanor’s hair. He’d like long ones so she could tie it back loosely enough so the curls would be free. He didn’t want to see any part of her restrained.
Chapter Three
In the darkness, Eleanor stood by the fireplace and pulled the army blanket closer around her shoulders. Even though the sound of the wind outside had disappeared, it was still chilly. Everyone had gone to bed and the fire had died down. She had risen to add more wood, and then watched the embers flare up as the blaze took hold again. The truth was she hadn’t been able to sleep.
Every time she had closed her eyes, she remembered that tomorrow was going to be her wedding day. She’d had months to get used to the idea, but it seemed a lot more difficult than she had thought it was going to be when she was talking to Mrs. Stout about the comforts of being married as they sat at the worktable back in Nantucket and planned her future.
Frankly, nothing her employer had said to her in those conversations prepared her for marrying a man like the sergeant. No, Adam—he said to call him Adam—she reminded herself as she reached up and brushed the hair away from her face. She could do that, she reassured herself. Adam. That was simple enough.
He was nothing like the men she’d known back home.
The buffalo robe lay on the floor and she told herself she should lie back down and try to sleep. Couples got married every day of the week and, while not all of those unions were based on love, people managed to have quiet, contented lives. The kind of life she’d had with her father as they cared for the sheep. The kind of life she had expected when Mrs. Stout first told her about Adam.
Maybe that was the problem, she told herself as she looked into the flames. Somehow she didn’t think a marriage with Adam would be as steady as she had imagined. He certainly didn’t like sheep and that was one mark against him. And he was too handsome by half. She couldn’t figure out why he was settling for a bride he didn’t know when he could just walk down the street of the nearest town and find a woman who’d beg to be his wife.
That’s what he should have done. At least, Adam and whoever he chose would get to talk to each other before deciding to spend their lives together. Not that she liked that idea so much, either, once she’d thought of it.
Just then she heard a slight sound and looked up to see Mrs. Martin come out of the back room with her thick shawl clutched tight over her linen shift and her hair carefully tucked under a white sleeping cap. She wore stockings on her feet and the night shadows on her face hid her expression.
Eleanor could imagine how she felt, though. “It’s a big day tomorrow. I guess we all have problems going to sleep.”
“Hannah snuck that cat into the room and it climbed up on the bed with us,” Mrs. Martin said accusingly.
“It’s only a kitten.”
The other woman didn’t answer. Eleanor was almost going to offer to boil some hot water for them both. She didn’t have tea, but she’d brought some dried rose hips with her that she could add to the water to make it more soothing. After all, this woman was Adam’s mother and Hannah’s grandmother. Eleanor needed to make an effort to get along with her for their sakes.
The older woman stood still, and then straightened herself as if she had something to say, clearing her throat and paused for a moment before beginning. “I’m prepared to pay your train fare back to the East Coast,” Mrs. Martin finally said in even tones that suggested she’d practiced the words enough in her mind that they seemed reasonable.
Then she took a breath.
“And I’ll give you a hundred dollars in addition for your trouble. That’s more than fair,” she added as though she expected some argument on that point. “Especially when we both know that, even with the nephew, Mrs. Stout will let you return to her estate and a shepherd wouldn’t make that much all year if you’d stayed there, anyway. I can’t imagine who would want to take care of those smelly beasts, but it is not a difficult thing, now is it?”
Eleanor was silent for a moment, striving for patience. “I know I’m not who you wanted or expected me to be, but I promise you I’ll do the best I can for Hannah. I have a book that Mrs. Stout gave me and—”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” the older woman snapped, obviously annoyed. “You can’t teach someone how to be a lady from some book. Or be one yourself, for that matter. There are so many things. It takes training. Why—you need to show Hannah how be a hostess. Have you thought of that? You’ve certainly never done anything like that. Adam will be an important man someday. There will be dinners. And parties.”
The woman paused, and then continued, “I’m afraid Adam just doesn’t understand how difficult that can be for someone who wasn’t raised to handle themselves in any kind of society. If he knew you better, he’d see it’s just not possible. I’m sure you do fine with the sheep, but you need to be able to converse with people if you’re married to a man like Adam.”
Eleanor was taken back at the disdain in the older woman’s voice. “Mrs. Martin, I assure you I don’t just talk to sheep.”
But the other woman wasn’t listening. She had let go of her shawl and now held out her hand, causing the garment to fall slightly until it rested softly upon her shoulders. In her palm she held a small tintype of a woman, set in a delicate silver frame. “This was my son’s first wife, Catherine, at their engagement ball.”
Mrs. Martin spoke softly, lost in some memory as she looked down at the portrait.
Eleanor stepped closer so she could see. Maybe if she showed she was interested that would be taken as a sign of friendship. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she needed to exhale.
So that’s why Mrs. Martin was upset, she thought to herself as she fought the temptation to turn her head away. Hannah’s mother—Adam’s wife—had been absolutely beautiful. She had her dark hair arranged in an intricate knot that Eleanor would never have been able to manage with her thick tresses. And then she wore a gown that showed off her sleek neck and the pearl necklace that encircled it so casually that it was clear that she belonged to a world where those were commonplace. It was the smile on her face as she looked up at someone to the side of her that made Eleanor stop cold, though. Whoever she was looking at, Catherine loved him with all her heart.
“She and Adam danced perfectly together,” his mother continued, studying the portrait as if she was willing
past events to come back to life. “People loved to watch them. They were so very graceful, like the swans on her parent’s estate as they glided across the pond. I haven’t seen Adam dance like that since. I don’t think he could bear to even try it now. Those days are over for him.”
Eleanor swallowed the lump in her throat and searched for something to say. It was clear that Catherine had been perfect.
“She was rich?” Eleanor finally asked, for lack of anything else to say. She knew that money wasn’t the reason for that engagement, though. She wished it had been.
“Yes, far more than we were. Her father tried to dissuade her from marrying Adam. But then he decided my son had prospects, after all, and, for the sake of Catherine’s happiness, he relented and agreed they could wed. He expected great things of their life together.”
Eleanor nodded, unable to speak.
They were silent for a moment and then the woman continued, “It’s for Catherine’s sake that Hannah needs to have a proper upbringing.” She finally looked at Eleanor. The fierceness had disappeared and she seemed to be pleading for something. “Surely, you understand. Some day her mother’s parents are going to want Hannah to come visit them. She needs to prepare for that day. She and Adam will go to her grandparent’s home, either in the capital city or beside the bay. Neither one of them will want to lack manners or polish on that day.”
For a moment, Eleanor was reminded of her own situation. What if she was in Hannah’s position and had been given that coveted invitation? Even with all of her bitterness, she would go. Maybe her mother’s parents had never made any effort to meet her because they felt she would not know how to act in their world. She was used to their indifference, but she felt an unexpected sharp jab of rejection at the thought they might be worried about her manners. No one liked to be cast aside because they weren’t good enough.
“Hasn’t she seen her grandparents?” Eleanor couldn’t help but ask. Maybe Mrs. Martin was exaggerating.
“Not since her mother died.”
Eleanor’s heart sank as she stood there looking at the picture, and then remembered the little girl sleeping in the other room.
It was a mercy, she told herself stoically, that she had never expected a love match with the sergeant. No man would ever love again after being wed to Catherine. Whatever he was doing now was for the sake of his daughter and Eleanor didn’t have the heart to fault him for that.
“Hannah has her mother’s eyes,” Mrs. Martin murmured, and then looked up at Eleanor. “I know it sounds harsh. But it’s the only way. Please think about my offer.”
Eleanor nodded. She could barely speak, but she needed to hear the truth. “Does your son know what you’re asking me to do?”
“No, but—” The other woman didn’t finish her thought. She didn’t need to. Once Eleanor had seen the portrait, she knew she wasn’t like his late wife. She was a shepherd’s daughter. She had no desire to make Adam miserable by marrying him. She’d assumed when he sent for a bride that he was willing to make a life with whoever answered—that his heart was open to accept anyone. But maybe it was the opposite; maybe he wasn’t planning to open his heart to anyone so it didn’t matter who he married. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t bothered to prepare himself, or this cabin, for their life together.
“There’s no need to tell Adam about our talk,” his mother finally finished. “Just make some excuse to delay the marriage. I don’t want to spoil Christmas for Hannah. She is so excited to be here with her father. It’s only two days. You can tell them after Christmas. It will come soon enough.”
“How can I leave if Hannah wants me to stay?”
The man might not care if she left, but she believed his daughter would.
“A child shouldn’t make those kinds of decisions. You know that. I never wanted Hannah to leave Ohio, anyway. She belongs with me and I’ll take her back home.”
“But Adam—”
“My son will do his duty once you go back. He doesn’t realize how frail Hannah is. Her scars won’t fade. And her leg hasn’t recovered from that fall. He has completely unrealistic expectations of her becoming a normal girl someday. And he can’t take care of her alone. She needs someone with her. She needs me.”
Eleanor was suddenly very tired. She turned to walk back to the fireplace and didn’t look at the other woman when she spoke. “Morning will come early. We should both get some rest.”
Eleanor didn’t wait for the older woman’s footsteps to end before lying down on the buffalo robe and drawing it around her for warmth. She was so very cold. Please, Lord, she prayed. Help me know what to do.
She had no wish for Hannah to experience the rejection she had felt from her mother’s family. Would she be able to learn enough to prepare Hannah for the expectations of her grandparents? The book Mrs. Stout had sent with her was in her valise in the bedroom; she wished she had thought to bring the bag out here so she could look at it now.
The book was written by Emily Thornwell and called Good Manners for Young Ladies. Eleanor wondered if Adam’s mother was right that she wouldn’t find enough in its pages to help her and Hannah. If she hadn’t been so busy making the yarn stars, she would have read the book by now and she might know if it held any hope.
And then there’s Adam, Eleanor thought as she bowed her head again. Lord, what should I do about him? He was still grieving for his wife. He probably always would be. No one had given her any advice on how to live with a husband who was in love with someone else. Lord, why have You brought me here?
The house quieted again until she knew Mrs. Martin and Hannah were both asleep. Even prayer did not soothe Eleanor tonight. God seemed far away. Of course, He never seemed as close to her as He did when she could see the stars.
She glanced up at the window. The clouds had shifted and the sky looked clear. There was no wind blowing and the snow had stopped falling.
She looked over at the fire. The embers were still red and a low steady heat was coming from the pile of white ashes under them. She needed to get up and put more wood in the fire again, anyway, she told herself as she stood and quietly put on her dress. She carried the stool and the rest of her clothes over to the door, sitting down to put her shoes on when she got there.
A blanket hung from a peg on the wall and she wrapped that around herself before quietly unlatching the door and stepping outside. The air was cold, but it didn’t sting like it had earlier. She pulled the blanket closer to her, crossing her arms in front of her as she did so. The snow that had fallen earlier was soft as she took a few steps away from the house and looked back at it.
She might not feel as if she belonged inside that cabin, but no such discomfort plagued her when she was able to go outside like this in the evenings. The land was flat in all directions, but the depth of the night skies took her breath away. She should be used to it since she’d come out on other nights to look through her father’s telescope. The stars were in different places here than they had been when she studied them in the sheep’s commons back home, but she couldn’t deny that they were more magnificent.
She walked a little farther from the cabin. The moon was shining tonight, giving a silver glow to the snowy ground. She wondered briefly who would live in the cabin if Mrs. Martin took Hannah back East with her. Eleanor knew that without Hannah the sergeant would have no reason to marry. Nor would he have anything preventing him from going back to the fort and taking up his old life. She felt lonely just thinking about it. She wondered if the man would let her buy the cabin from him if he left. She couldn’t pay him until she raised a crop on the land this spring, but she was strong and could manage. She did have enough money from her savings to start a small herd of sheep, too. She might be able to sell some wool.
She would never consider taking the railroad fare or the payment Mrs. Martin would press on her. Contrary to what the other woman thought, Eleanor knew the nephew made a difference. He had probably already moved into the main house by now. Some of the other staff me
mbers were likely being told to leave about now, as well. Mrs. Stout had a kind heart, but it was said her husband’s nephew didn’t.
Eleanor heard something behind her and spun around.
“Oh,” she breathed out.
“Sorry. I should have said something earlier.” Adam was heading toward her. “You just looked so deep in thought that I didn’t want to disturb you at first. Then I thought you might want this.”
He held out another blanket.
Eleanor was dumbstruck. The man was handsome in daylight, but in the light of the moon he stirred something deep inside her. Maybe it was the way the shadows defined his face, bringing out the sculpted look of his strong bones. She remembered the legends her father used to tell about the Norsemen of old who were fiercely protective and kind to those they loved. Adam could have sprung to life from those stories, especially with the caring look in his eyes.
“I know you have something around your shoulders, but if it’s one of the blankets that came with the cabin, I’ve noticed they aren’t as warm as they could be. This one is almost new.”
His voice was soothing and he walked even closer, opening the blanket as he came.
Finally, he stood in front of her and wrapped the covering around her, letting his arms linger as he held her shoulders. “I couldn’t sleep, either. I hope you’re not nervous.”
Eleanor shook her head as she gazed up at him. She was not used to men who were as tall as he was. “No, that’s not it. I’m just tired so I came out here to pray.”
She wondered if he could see the hesitation on her face as she stood there. He’d moved and his eyes were in the shadows of his face now, but she could see from the tiny wrinkles around them that he was smiling.
“All the more reason to get some rest, then,” he said softly. “That is, if you’ve finished your prayers?”
She nodded.
She had not given much thought until now to how nice his voice sounded. It had a small lilt to it that she hadn’t noticed before. He was pleasing to the ear as well as the eye.