“Don’t you ‘Now Ava’ me! It’s Mrs. Buchannan and you had best know that. You can’t be canoodling around town with all the women like… like…”
“All the women? I think not. Like a single, unattached man perhaps?”
“Precisely!” she snarled indelicately.
“Then remedy it,” he replied with finality and crossed his arms smugly across his chest.
Ava stared at him, aghast at his boldness and the fact that he had twisted the conversation on her so quickly. “I suggest you eat quickly and get back to your quarters again, Mr. Ellington. One of the vaqueros from Maypearl Ranch is being brought in soon, so your teachings will begin soon enough.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he quipped with a churlish grin towards Ava. Then to her surprise, he turned to Melissa Miller who stood silently in the distance with tears of humiliation and sadness in her eyes.
“Miss Miller, thank you for my shave in lieu of payment. It was a pleasure to repair the chair and sharpen the blades for you in exchange. If you need anything, please feel free to ask. I could use a haircut sooner rather than later,” he told her with a bow, making Ava feel completely ashamed and embarrassed. To add to it, Melissa’s voice rang out as clear as a bell.
“It was my pleasure, Mr. Ellington. My beloved pa used to do the repairs for me while he could. I’m sure that he would be pleased knowing that a kind, Christian soul was able to help out and not assume the worst,” Melissa said quietly, dashing tears from her eyes. “He always believed in giving a man or woman the benefit of the doubt. It’s a wonderful trait to learn.”
“Yes, Miss Miller, that it is. I’m certain that others will learn from your example.”
If the ground could have swallowed her whole, Ava would have been relieved. There was no mistaking the tone of the young woman’s words. Melissa Miller was kindly putting her back in her place with a skill that would make any gentile woman proud. Ava knew it, and apparently so did Jeremiah and Melissa. Attempting to make good with her neighbor and save face, Ava smiled blankly.
“Miss Miller, will you be bringing a dish to the social?”
“Of course, I shall be bringing a Washington pie,” Melissa answered politely. The Washington pie was simply a jam cake that was easily prepared and transported.
“That sounds lovely.”
“And you, Mrs. Buchannan? What shall you be bringing?”
“I wish I was baking a lovely cake, but instead I shall be bringing something that stores easily. An old recipe of Peter’s late mother. Pickled eggs.”
“Something sour and tart, I see,” Jeremiah quipped with a knowing wink.
“Yes. When you put all the lovely eggs I have been given lately in a bowl in an acidic mixture, it turns them and gives them a different flavor.”
“Sour?”
“Flavorful,” Ava said shortly. “And some people just can’t handle the strength or flavor.” That pointed jab was towards Jeremiah, there was no mistaking it. He dared to call her sour? Tart? He barely knew her! He claimed he wanted to court her, but he was making no attempts! He had yet to invite her out for a walk, or even hold a discussion with her.
“I’m certain that they are delicious, Mrs. Buchannan,” Melissa cut in.
“And some crave it like the air they breathe,” Jeremiah admitted softly, as he stared at Ava.
Swallowing hard, she could feel a warmth creeping up her neck that had nothing to do with embarrassment. Jeremiah was boldly stating that he wanted her in front of another person. He was unabashedly looking at her like she was a piece of candy.
“Shameless,” she scolded quietly towards him, for his ears alone. This caused him to laugh aloud, thus making her blush even more. “I will see you soon for your lessons in embalming.”
“Are you sure the vaquero wants that?”
“No, but I plan on teaching you so that I never have to do it again!”
7
Swallowing hard, she walked into the funeral home as she had so many times before. This time would be different. This time, she wouldn’t be alone. If it got to be too much, she could step away and instruct Jeremiah on what to do next from afar.
“So, are you planning on allowing me to address you as Ava while we work? Or do you want me calling you Mrs. Buchannan?” Jeremiah interrupted her train of thought. “You are pale. Are you all right?”
“Yes. I’m well,” she said simply, smoothing her gown over her stomach in an effort to stop the nausea. It was subconscious and she always found herself placing her hands over her gown as if she could put a halt to the surge of bile physically. The first time she realized that she did that was when bloodstains had ruined her gown. She didn’t realize there was blood on her dress until she crossed the street that first afternoon and someone stopped her, asking if she had been injured. Now, she wore an apron while she worked.
“Let’s open the windows, please,” she directed weakly as the coppery smell of blood assailed her senses. She moved quickly to get to one side of the room while Jeremiah opened the other side. As she prepared to step into the mortuary where the vaquero rested, she hesitated at the closed door.
“Wait,” he ordered.
“It’s my property.”
“Yes, and your nausea. I thought to spare you that by opening the windows for you before you entered.”
“Oh!” Ava exclaimed, shocked by the considerate display.
“Yes. I’m not cruel.”
“I never claimed you were.”
“No, I know. You said I was shameless- several times, to be honest.”
“Well,” she said with a shy smile, “that much is true, Mr. Ellington.”
“It’s Jeremiah and you know it.”
“So I do,” she countered shyly.
“Then use it,” he demanded firmly from behind the closed door. “I like the way you say my name.”
Ava nearly tripped as he quickly pulled the door open from where she stood. “Are you all right?” he asked again, grasping her elbow to steady her.
“Yes. Thank you again,” she admitted, pulling her arm away from where his hand burned. “I just do not like these at all.”
Stepping into the room, she shut her eyes momentarily at the mass of limbs callously tossed up on the table. The limp bodies always amazed her at how fluid they were. They would move and stretch in ways that simply did not seem possible while alive. There was no tautness to the muscle. It was bone and sinew that held them in place. Grasping a leg, she moved to lift the dead weight and Jeremiah stopped her. He took the limb from her and gently unfolded the body to where it was lying prone on the table between them.
“Thank you,” she said simply. “I am not really strong and some men are quite larger than my frame. I will be lucky to get through this without being sick or crying, honestly. I abhor this part of the job.” She found Jeremiah stared at her silently as if he were seeing her for the first time. Nodding, he straightened. He was quite tall in the room and the table didn’t seem high enough for him to work comfortably.
“So why do you perform the duties of the undertaker?”
“Because it’s my duty as a Buchannan.”
“To your husband? Or because you feel you need to torture yourself?”
“I don’t do that!”
“You don’t? Sure seems that way.”
“You don’t know me.”
“You won’t let me get to know you.”
“I haven’t stopped you.”
“Haven’t you? You don’t eat with me. You don’t talk to me but to tell me you need space. I give it to you and you get upset when I begin trying to make myself useful in town. Every time I get a chance to see you, you either run or avoid me completely.”
Ava stood there aghast. “That isn’t true,” she stammered.
“What do you do first?” Jeremiah said, frustrated.
“What do you mean?”
“When you begin on the body. Do you wash them? Do you sew them up?”
“Oh, I thought you meant
about us.”
“Well, yes. That, too. Scalpel.”
“What did I do first?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I picked you up from the train and then fed you.”
“You were staring at my rear end, Mrs. Buchannan, until I caught you looking. Then, yes, you fed me. You were polite to me and seemed to feel sorry for me.”
“I did feel badly for you. You looked like you needed a bath, clothing and food.”
“Of which you provided right away – and you have my thanks.”
“But you can’t admit it.”
“Admit what?”
“That you were caught staring at me,” he said simply. “You can’t admit it and then when you snuck up on me bathing, you kept peeking at me. What was I supposed to think?”
“Peeking?” Ava screeched. “I wasn’t peeking! You kept running around me completely naked, you heathen!”
“Ava. Dear, sweet Ava. You didn’t have your eyes closed and I saw you watching me.”
“I was not!” she sputtered.
“It’s okay, I didn’t mind. I just thought you wanted to be courted.”
“I do!”
“I tried to dress nice and come talk to you after my bath. You threw yourself at me, kissing me senseless. What am I supposed to think?”
“Threw myself?” she stammered. “At you?”
“I know, I know. I really don’t mind. I told you that I wanted to court you, Ava. But you have to decide what you want. Do you want to court me or marry me? Shroud, please.”
“What? Here, take it!” she said slapping it in his hands angrily.
“Do you want to marry me? So you can kiss me or throw yourself at me whenever you want and it will be proper? Right now, seeing me naked and kissing me isn’t proper at all.”
“HOW DARE YOU?”
“How dare I? How dare you take advantage of me being a guest and you walk in on me bathing? I should be ashamed.”
“Yes! You should be! I didn’t walk in on you!”
“I beg to differ! You did walk in on me! You saw me naked and you kissed me! Outside of wedlock, might I remind you? That practically makes you a loose wo-”
“Watch your tongue, Mr. Ellington, else I take it out with a scalpel!” she growled. “I am NOT a loose woman!”
“No, maybe you are right. But refusing my offer to marry repeatedly and then ogling me all the time.”
“I didn’t refuse your offer.”
“Sure you did.”
“No I didn’t.”
“Fine. Let’s test this,” he said easily, crossing his arms across his chest. “Ava, marry me.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“Are we done yet with this fiasco?” she asked angrily.
“I think we are done, Ava. I’m proud of you,” Jeremiah said with a wide smile. “You didn’t get sick once and didn’t cry. I’m very proud of you.”
“Already? We are done already?” she asked stunned, looking down at the older man on the table. “I didn’t even realize it. It takes me hours on end to do this by myself.”
“Well, I was concerned you might stab me with a scalpel for a minute there. But you are really good at this. It’s not so much different from the military either. I will be fine doing this for you. But if you care to join me, we make a great team and were done in record time.”
“I can’t believe it’s finished. It’s still daylight outside.”
“Time enough to go for a walk with me before you turn in?” he offered gallantly with a bow.
“You know, I think I might just do so.”
“Need fresh air?”
“I think I need to gather my thoughts.”
“Gather away, Ava, my dear. But I am going to hold you to my proposal.”
“We shall see about that,” she said quietly.
“We make a great team,” he reminded her, extending his hand out. She put her hand in his, causing him to grin. “We’ll hold hands, sweet Ava. But first, I thought I might hang your apron for you.”
“Oh,” she said, mortified, snatching her hand back with a wry smile. Untying it, she handed the apron over to him and stepped away from the shrouded body on the table. “We need to put him in a casket. I can’t believe no one has shown up yet to discuss his burial. Usually the family comes by right away.”
“Maybe there is no family.”
“Perhaps not. I will send a note out to Maypearl Ranch asking for details.”
“We could ride out.”
“No, no horses for me, please.”
“Why not?”
“They tend to bite or snap at me. I don’t like horses and they don’t like me.”
“Who could not like you?” he murmured, wrapping his arm around her waist.
“Horses. Lots and lots of horses,” she said shyly, pushing back against his chest. “I think maybe you are a bit bold.”
“I think you might like bold,” Jeremiah whispered against her cheek. Ava caught her breath and found herself responding in kind, raising her lips towards his. He gently kissed her, cupping her neck while he held her momentarily. “Yes, bold men are to your liking.”
“Maybe,” she breathed, biting her lip and stepping out of his arms.
Jeremiah’s throaty bark of laughter lit his brilliant eyes with humor, causing her to grin. “Let’s go for that walk I promised you, my bold woman.” Ava linked her arm in his extended one. His laughter and easy smiles put her at ease, but the man certainly knew how to goad her as well. That much was evident. She was shocked that the gruesome task was over before she had even realized it. And it was a true relief!
Going for an evening walk in the setting light was simply a cakewalk. He behaved like a perfect gentleman. The frustrating man from earlier was gone and in his place was a true southern beau. He bowed politely or tipped his hat as folks walked nearby. He had apparently made several acquaintances in town. Several women looked at her curiously and with envy in their eyes. She had thought Jeremiah was handsome from the moment he stepped off the train, but it was dawning on her now that there were many women that were looking for eligible husbands. She had one with her, but hadn’t really taken advantage of the opportunity yet. Part of her still felt guilty for even considering giving up on Peter’s return. All of her felt horrible that there was no resolution in sight. Jeremiah stopped in the bakery and picked up a sweet peach tart, tearing it in half to share. They took a bite and each savored the sweet peach taste.
“Oh my word! That is divine,” Ava breathed. “I think I have a love of candied peaches now where before I favored lemons.” The sweet, syrupy peach practically melted in the dough that was sprinkled with cinnamon.
“I always knew you were a sour person,” Jeremiah teased and offered up his half. “You are welcome to mine.”
“No! No,” she replied quickly. “You should definitely try yours. It’s really wonderful and we are almost back at my house. Please, go ahead and enjoy.” Taking a bite, she found that the pastry was extremely flaky and was beginning to break apart. It had been a long time since she had something so sweet. She indelicately crammed the remainder of her piece that was falling apart in her mouth. Looking up wide eyed, she realized how unladylike it was and couldn’t even utter a word lest flaky crust come flying out of her mouth. She saw Jeremiah’s knowing grin.
Just before she closed her eyes in embarrassment, she watched as he crammed his entire piece in his mouth as if to commiserate with her. Both stood there in the dim sunset on her front porch, cheeks puffed outwards from being crammed full of the peach tart. Jeremiah’s laugh started first as crumbs escaped and he covered his mouth, chewing frantically.
“That’s the last time I compete with you,” he announced, laughing. “I might have choked!” His admission caused her own crumbs to slip out in a small puff followed by a larger puff of pastry crumbs and sugar as her own laughter escaped.
“No one made you shove it in your mouth like a glutton,” she giggled.
/> “Only another glutton,” he said lightly, pointing at her, causing Ava to blush mightily.
“What? You apparently bring out the worst in me, Jeremiah. It’s delicious and I haven’t had anything like that since before the war,” she admitted.
“Neither have I,” he concurred, stepping forward. His hand reached up to cup her face as his thumb wiped off any remaining crumbs. “It’s almost the sweetest thing I have tasted.”
“Oh? What was the sweetest…” she began and her words fell away.
“This,” he interrupted softly as he leaned down to kiss her. Just before his lips met hers, she shook her head, dislodging his grasp. Ava practically jumped backwards.
“You are too forward, Mr. Ellington,” she started, her hand resting on her bosom in an effort to stop her treacherous pounding heart.
“Maybe you are right, Mrs. Buchannan,” he replied with a forlorn smile. “Perhaps you’ll do me the honor of accompanying me to the church picnic that was discussed earlier? I believe I have crossed the line too much. I owe you an apology.”
“You don’t,” she stammered, feeling surprised by the sudden turn in him. He gave a halfhearted grin and stepped forward towards her, causing her voice to raise an octave. “But, mayhap, this is a good time to turn in!” she exclaimed, darting into the house and shutting the door behind her, firmly separating her and Jeremiah between a thick, wooden door.
“I shall pick you up for the picnic, Mrs. Buchannan,” he announced loudly from behind the door, followed by a deep, resonating chuckle that made her toes curl.
8
Ava awoke, excited for the day. Today was the church picnic out by ranch on the outskirts of town. There had been the idea of a get together mulling around for a few weeks now, but it was all coming together in fruition. Several new townsfolk had arrived over the last few weeks and were being housed at the bunkhouse. They had been put to work helping all over town until finally settling down. She wondered idly if she had made a mistake by inviting Jeremiah to stay in the funeral home’s extra room instead of having him stay with the other men. She didn’t want to admit that the merest hint of him having experience with surgery, sewing up wounds, and being strong had made her jump at the chance to make his acquaintance. What she didn’t want to confess aloud, or otherwise, was that his attractive good looks and personality now made her want to consider pursuing this man over any others she had seen in town. The moment he had stepped off the train, her interest had been piqued. The more she spoke with him or he paid attention to her, the more she had to fight down the urge to respond in kind with his advances.
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