by Kit Morgan
Ebba smiled half-heartedly. “How can you be so sure?”
“We won’t know unless we keep trying, now will we?” Ma shoved the sliced pie toward Ebba and started on another. “Take that into the parlor and see if anyone wants another piece.”
“You’re changing the subject on purpose,” Ebba pointed out.
“I’m doing nothing of the kind,” Ma said innocently. “I think Charlotte and Matthew might like a slice. If Bernice Johnson is in there with them, why don’t you talk with them? You’re all about the same age. Make some friends, for Heaven’s sake.”
“What good does it do to make friends when I’ll never see them again?” Ebba said before she could stop herself.
Ma quit her slicing, her mouth half open. “What are you talking about? You’re not planning to … to run away, are you?”
“No, of course not. I just … I … oh, I don’t know.”
Ma sighed and put down the knife. “Ebba, I know that maybe Daniel and the rest of us weren’t what you had in mind, but know that we love you already and you’re part of this family now. And I’ll tell you one thing – there is nothing, I mean nothing, that’s ever going to change that. Do you understand?”
A sudden pang of … well, something, struck Ebba in the heart. It didn’t hurt, yet it didn’t make her feel any better either. She wasn’t quite sure what it was other than perhaps understanding. “Thank you, Ma. I needed to hear that.” She took the pie and left the kitchen.
In the parlor Matthew and Charlotte sat on the settee listening to Warren Johnson tell a story. He and Bernice occupied the chairs near the fireplace. “… And that’s when Grandpa thought he might get himself a mail-order bride!”
“You mean your grandfather is sending away for a bride?” Charlotte asked in shock. “At his age?”
“What do you mean, ‘his age’?” Matthew asked. “Sheriff Hughes and Aunt Mary are probably going to be married soon. Why not Old Man Johnson?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “It just seems as though he’d be bringing in another person for Bernice and Warren to take care of.”
“I don’t mind,” Bernice said. “And Grandpa gets around fine for his age. He works just as hard as Warren every day. Another pair of hands around the house would be fine with me.”
“Besides, his new bride might not be as old,” Warren added. “Younger women do marry older men sometimes.”
Ebba cleared her throat. “Excuse me, but would any of you like a slice of pie?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Matthew said and stood. He went to a sideboard where a stack of plates had been placed, took five and handed them out. When he got to Ebba, he gave her one and took the pie. “I’ll serve.”
Ebba handed him the pie and the server. “Why, thank you.”
Matthew nodded and began to dole out the pie. “What’s your opinion, Ebba?” he asked.
“Of what?”
“Ma Weaver and Sheriff Hughes getting married.”
Ebba took a step back. “I don’t think that’s any of our business, do you?”
“She’s my aunt – that makes it a little bit my business.”
Ebba wasn’t sure what to say. How much did they know? “I don’t think I’m the one you should be asking. You should talk to Ma or Sheriff Hughes.”
“Harlan has made his intentions quite clear to some of the men. But my question is, what do you think of them marrying each other?”
“Are you asking this because of their age?”
“Yes. I’m curious. If Old Man Johnson can get a mail-order bride, then why can’t a man like Harlan, or say, Hank who owns the restaurant in town get hitched as well?”
Ebba was beginning to get flustered. “Why are you asking me this?”
He set the pie plate on the sideboard. “Because of a belief I have.”
Everyone in the room stared at him. “Matthew, whatever are you talking about?” Charlotte asked.
Matthew squared his shoulders. “I believe that no one in this world should be alone if they don’t want to be. Even the Good Book says ‘it is not good for man to be alone.’ There must be a reason for that, don’t you think?”
“Are you saying that people should try their best not to be alone? I mean, remain single? That everyone should get married?” Ebba asked.
“Not necessarily marriage. I’m saying that people need people, whether they marry or are simply with family and friends. But if two people love each other, they shouldn’t let minor problems get in the way of their happiness.”
Ebba bit her lower lip. He had to be talking about her and the sneezing fit she had earlier. What else could it be? “What if two people love each other but one of them has something that drives the other person crazy?”
Matthew retook his seat. “If they love each other, they’ll find a way. Lord knows Charlotte and I have had our differences over the years, and we’ve had to learn to adjust to each other.”
Ebba watched sadness flash across Charlotte’s face. “I see. So if two people aren’t in love yet and have something they have to deal with …” Oh, for Heaven’s sake, she thought. Ask the real question. “All right. What if Daniel and his family can’t put up with my constant sneezing?!”
Matthew didn’t turn a hair. “He married you, didn’t he? Once one of my cousins makes a vow, trust me, they don’t break it.”
“Why are you worried about such a thing?” Bernice asked her.
Ebba glanced at each of them before she spoke. “I guess … it’s because I don’t really know them yet.” Or maybe I just don’t trust him yet, she added silently. She still had to talk to him about all the things he hadn’t told her. Who knew what else she’d discover? Is that why everyone gave her such funny looks in town, or today at the wedding? Is that what had put the bee in Nellie Davis’ bonnet? And if not that, then what?
And then there was her sneezing and sniffling on top of that … well, there was a lot that needed to be worked out, anyone could see.
“Ebba,” Bernice said. “Won’t you sit with us and enjoy this pie?”
Ebba looked down at her plate and sure enough, Matthew had served her a slice. In all her turmoil, she hadn’t even registered it. Whereas Daniel still hadn’t returned with the promised plate of food for her. One more question she needed to ask. But not right now – she didn’t have the will for it. “Yes … thank you,” she said as she sat.
Chapter 17
“I’m sorry it took me so long to fetch ya a plate, Ebba,” Daniel said for the fifth time. The wedding celebration was over by now. The guests were camped out around the farmhouse or the barn or Arlan and Samijo’s place.
“Daniel, you’ve apologized enough. It’s all right – that was hours ago.” Ebba still didn’t know why it had taken so long, and that annoyed her. But not as much as the constant apologizing.
“But I wanna explain myself. Especially now.”
“Then explain. But do stop saying you’re sorry.” Ebba looked out the bedroom window at the campfires some of the guests had built. She wished she could be out there sitting next to one. Warren and Bernice were laughing with Charlotte and Matthew while Mr. and Mrs. Davis sat quietly nearby.
Daniel peeked over her shoulder and watched as well. “They look cozy, don’t they?”
“Yes,” she said, unable to keep the envy out of her voice.
“Ebba,” he began again. “Ya know what tonight is?”
She swallowed hard. “Yes, Daniel, I know.”
He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Ya don’t sound too happy about it.”
She closed her eyes and sighed. “I … have a lot on my mind.”
“Am I one of them thoughts?”
She opened her eyes and met his. “Yes.” In one way or another, he was all of them.
His eyes pooled with worry. “If’n I am, how come ya don’t look happy? Ya married me.”
“I know and … maybe now is not the time, but …”
“But what? What d
o ya mean?”
Oh, hang it all, just say it! she scolded herself. “We need to talk about some things.”
He let his hands fall from her. “Um … ya mean about … our weddin’ night?”
She drew in a breath. “In a way.”
His eyes widened. “What way?”
She squared her shoulders. “There have been a lot of things you haven’t been telling me. Things you should have.”
“Like what?”
“Like you having over twenty relatives living here.”
“Well, um … I didn’t think it was that important.”
Ebba resisted the urge to raise her voice. “It’s very important. Or how you expect me to become a teacher for all the children.”
He shrugged. “Well, yeah, but what’s that got to do with our weddin’ night?”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say anything in your letters?”
“Because I didn’t need to.”
“What do you mean, you didn’t need to?” she said in shock. “Didn’t you think I’d need to know that? There are fourteen children on this farm!”
“Only if’n ya count the babies,” he added.
“Well, babies don’t stay babies, or didn’t you know that?” She turned back toward the window. “You should have mentioned in your letters what you expected of me.”
“But I didn’t say anything in my letters …”
She spun back. “That’s my point! Did it ever occur to you that becoming a … a … schoolmarm for your nieces and nephews is a really big job? What if I was incapable of such a task?”
“Ya can read and write, can’t ya?”
“Of course!”
He cocked his head to one side. “Don’t tell me ya don’t know yer numbers?”
Ebba rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know my numbers! But it takes a lot more than that to be a teacher. And even if it didn’t, you still didn’t tell me – not in your letters, not when I arrived, not until now when I called you on it! I had to find out from Rufi!”
“Well … uh …”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What else haven’t you told me?”
Daniel took a step back and laughed nervously. “Is that what this is about? Ya think I’m holdin’ somethin’ out on ya?”
“You certainly have been so far,” she snapped. “Holding out on a lot of things.”
Daniel looked around as if for help. Finding none, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Darlin’, how could I have told ya in them letters about teachin’ when the idea done hit me only after ya got here?”
Ebba went still. “What?”
“Ya heard me. I didn’t get the idea ‘til I saw ya sneezin’ and strugglin’ so hard to breathe the first day. It figgered ya couldn’t work outside with the rest of us, that ya’d need a job that can be done indoors. With all these younguns ‘round here, you becomin’ their teacher was perfect. Or … so I thought.”
Ebba’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But … Rufi said something about my letters …”
“Aw, Rufi’s still just a kid – she gets things mixed up. You and me was talking about readin’ and writin’ in them letters, so I suggested it to Calvin and Bella, and … she musta overheard and got it all crossed. Besides, I didn’t promise nothin’ ‘cept that I’d ask ya if ya wanted to give it a try. And we’ve been so busy with the weddin’ that I figgered I should hold off ‘til ya got settled in and …”
“… And you weren’t going to require it of me?”
“Nah, just offer it and see what ya thought.” He sighed and took her in his arms. “I’m sorry if’n I didn’t make myself clear. I guess I messed it up real thorough.”
She leaned into him. The warmth of his body felt good. “I’m sorry too. I … shouldn’t have assumed. And I shouldn’t have snapped at you the way I did. It’s just frustrating when you don’t know what’s coming.”
Daniel kissed the top of her head. “I understand. Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for, sweetie. Ma says a husband and wife are gonna have buckets of misunderstandin’s durin’ a marriage. We just gotta figger out how to not to fill them buckets so fast.”
Ebba smiled. “Your mother is a very wise woman.”
“Don’t I know it. And now I know to tell ya more stuff so ya don’t get caught unawares.”
She shyly lifted her arms and put them around his waist. “I’d appreciate that, thank you.”
He looked at her. “Well, that’s one bucket emptied.”
She smiled as she gazed into his eyes. “Yes, it is.”
His eyes darted to her lips and, before she knew it, she was lost in his kiss. His hands roamed her back as it deepened, pulling a moan from her.
He gently broke the kiss. “I like it when you make that sound,” he whispered against her lips. “I want to hear ya do it again.”
Ebba shook her head. “I’m not so sure …”
Daniel smiled. “I’m sure, though.” He kissed her again.
Ebba moaned again. Pretty soon, she was as sure as he was. And that surety carried them into the rest of the night.
* * *
When Ebba awoke the next morning, Daniel was already gone. She sat up, realized she hadn’t a stitch of clothing on and yanked the blankets up to her neck. The previous night came back in a rush and she giggled in delight. She and Daniel were now truly husband and wife. They’d both been clumsy at first, but nature has a way of making the clumsiest dancer graceful under its tutelage. And they had danced well into the night.
She was surprised she was even up … but then, what time was it? Wrapping a blanket around herself, she went to the window and found the sun high in the sky, though not at its peak. Well, at least it wasn’t noon yet. She went to the washstand and quickly got ready for the rest of her day.
She spied her wedding dress draped over a chair and smiled at the memory of Daniel carefully removing it … she shook herself. Best not to think of such things now – she had work to do. She hoped she wasn’t too late to help with lunch.
Downstairs, she found Charity in the kitchen making sandwiches. “Good morning, Ebba,” she greeted her with a smile. “Sleep well?”
Ebba blushed bright pink.
“I see you did. Good. Daniel’s out helping some of the others break camp. I’m afraid the two of you missed breakfast.”
Ebba, for lack of a better idea, shrugged.
Charity laughed. “You don’t have to say anything. There’s a stack of flapjacks in the warming oven. That is, if your husband left you any.”
Ebba went to the warming oven and took out the plate. “Thank you for saving us some.” She folded one and was about to take a bite when it registered what Charity was doing. “Wait – is it lunch time already?”
“Not quite, but close. I’m making these for the folks leaving in a bit so they can eat on the road. They’ll stay at the Gundersons’ tonight before they head on to Nowhere. No one got up too early today.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“No, that’s to let you know everyone had a good time at your wedding.” She went to Ebba and gave her a hug. “Myself included. Welcome to the family.”
Tears welled in Ebba’s eyes. She hadn’t realized until that moment that now she had a family again. A huge one! “Thank you, Charity.”
Charity smiled as she went back to the worktable. “Do you want to help me finish these?” she asked as she swept a hand over the sandwiches.
“Certainly.” They made a dozen more, wrapped them, put them into baskets and took them outside to pass out. Ebba began to tick off the minutes it would take before she began to sneeze. She figured she was good for ten at the most.
She went to the Johnsons’ wagon and handed the basket to Bernice. “Here you are – something for the trip.”
Bernice smiled and took it from her. “Thank you! I didn’t plan for the trip back very well.”
“Don’t worry, you’re not the only one. But Charity made enough sandwiches to feed a
n army.”
“Did you … have a nice night?”
Ebba flushed red. Was it really ladylike to ask such a question? Well, it seemed to be out here. When in Rome … “I did,” she whispered.
Bernice glanced at her before she looked away again. “Oh, that’s … good.”
“Well, I’d better pass the rest of these out,” Ebba said and began to turn away.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For asking something so personal. It’s just that … well …”
Ebba faced her and waited. “Well, what?”
“It’s nothing.”
Ebba didn’t push it. She’d come to find out that the folks of Nowhere were a little strange. Perhaps all small towns were like that. She set her other basket down and gave Bernice a hug. “Thank you for coming.”
“You’re welcome. I hope you and Daniel will be very happy.”
“I’m sure we will be.” She went off to deliver more sandwiches, passing the rest out to the Rileys and the Davises before heading to the barn to see who was left. A man, a Mr. Oliver if she remembered right, was just coming out. “Would you like something to take on the road with you?” she asked.
Mr. Oliver looked her up and down. “Sure would, little lady. A nice taste of somethin’ would suit me just fine.”
Ebba smiled and started to reach into her basket, but before she could grab a sandwich, he had her locked in his arms and was dragging her into the barn. “What the mmmph?” The hand he clamped over her mouth was sweaty, dirty and smelled, and his other arm had hers pinned to her sides.
He headed for an empty stall and dragged her into it. “I’ve been waitin’ for this since I first set eyes on ya! Woo-ee, I bet you’re gonna be sweet!”
Ebba, realizing what he was about, kicked and struggled with all her might, but it was no use. The man had the strength of an ox. He threw her onto the straw and was on top of her before she could scream for help.
Mr. Oliver, much to her surprise, did it for her. “YEOWWW!” He leapt off her and spun around, swinging the pitchfork now attached to his derriere with him. A string of curses escaped before he fell to his knees – and then on his face, as a large foot kicked him in the back of the skull.