The Unlikely Wife

“Well, that’s why I only took half.”

Her forehead wrinkled, and her brown eyes narrowed.

Michael had no idea why she appeared so confused. Women. Who could figure out what they were thinking? No man, that’s for sure.

He picked up his fork, scooped up a mound of eggs and shoved them into his mouth. Flavor, unlike any he had ever tasted before, burst through his mouth. “Umm. These are delicious, Selina. What did you do to them?” He spoke around the eggs, then gathered up another rounded forkful.

She smiled. “Fried them in butter and bacon fat. And added the tops of those things I found down yonder.” She pointed to the cellar. “They looked like the ramps back home, so I took a chance.”

“What’s a ramp?”

“An onion or a leek,” she said as she added one piece of bacon, one biscuit and a small spoonful of the scrambled eggs onto her plate. “Come springtime, you can find them all over the Appalachian Mountains.”

“I see. I’m sure it’s beautiful there.”

“Sure is.” Her face brightened. The woman was definitely easy on the eyes.

“Do you miss home?”

Selina shrugged. “Don’t know. Can’t rightly say. I ain’t been gone long enough to tell.” With only a few bites, Selina finished her meager portion, hoping Michael had gotten enough.

“Have some more.” Michael pushed the rest of the servings toward her.

“Thank you kindly, but I’m done,” she said even though her stomach was pinched with hunger pain and wasn’t near full enough. Then again, it never had been before. Now should be no different.

His eyes, soft and questioning, held hers as strong as a foot stuck in a mud hole. “Are you sure?”

Selina had made the decision, and she wasn’t backing out now. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

Michael’s attention stayed on her face a spell before he heaped the rest of the food onto his plate and devoured it within minutes. He looked over at the stove with something akin to longing in his eyes before he averted his attention onto his coffee cup.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“Well, I was just wondering something. Before I took the rest of the food you said I only took half of what you’d made. Does that include biscuits, too?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure how many to make. I wanted to stretch the food so we’d have plenty to eat. I’m sorry iffen I didn’t make enough.” She looked down at her hands, fiddling with the patch on her pants leg. She’d wanted to be such a good wife, and already she felt the pain of his disappointment.

Michael’s finger rested under her chin, tugging it upward. “Selina, look at me.” With the gentlest touch, he raised her head, forcing her to look at him, even though she wanted to look everywhere but at him for fear he would see the love she had for him in her eyes.

“I’m a big eater. I want you to know that we have more than enough food. So you can make plenty all the time. And…”

She watched him swallow and draw a breath.

“I want you to eat more, too. What you ate this morning wouldn’t keep a baby chick alive.”

She pulled her eyes away from his intense stare. It hurt to be so close to him, to feel he might care and yet know he didn’t.

His finger dropped from her chin and rested in front her.

She wanted to snatch back his hand and cradle it against her cheek.

To hold it.

To feel its strength.

To enjoy the small pleasures a married woman like her ma had enjoyed.

But that would likely never happen, except in her dreams. And dream she would. No one could steal them from her. So when her head hit the pillow tonight, she’d dream of holding his hand.

Of him wrapping his arms about her and kissing her.

But until then, he was waiting for her answer. “Don’t rightly know iffen I’d be able to. Food was mighty scarce back home. Always made sure my brothers and Pa had enough to eat first. Then I ate what was left. Which was never much. So, I’m used to not eatin’ much. Even with you sayin’ we have plenty, I still can’t help but be scared that iffen I do eat too much more we might not have enough come winter time.”

His eyes trailed over her face, her arms and her body. Well, what he could see of it with her sitting in a chair. Still, his studying her like that made her uncomfortable.

His attention ended on her eyes, and if she weren’t mistaken, pity filled his. And she didn’t like it. Not one little bit. She didn’t want him feeling sorry for her and she’d let him know that. But before she had a chance to tell him so, he hitched his chair back and headed to the pantry.

When he came back he had a copper container with him, sat the thing down in front of her and raised the lid. He reached inside the jar and pulled out a handful of cookies and laid them on her plate and his.

He filled their coffee cups, something she should have thought to do, and then sat down. “Eat,” he ordered with a smile. His face turned serious as he looked at her. “I don’t want you ever worrying about food again, okay, Selina? We have ten dairy cows, a large herd of cattle and hogs, and plenty of chickens and eggs. We grow our own wheat so flour isn’t a shortage, either. Plus, Mother, my sisters, and sisters-in-law all grow large gardens every year. And if something happens to any of the food or gardens, we can go to town and buy some. If worse comes to worst, we’ll have it shipped in by train if necessary. Money is not an object.”

Selina didn’t know what to think. She’d never had such a mess of food before. She glanced at her plate and stared at the sandwiched cookies with the preserves in the middle. They looked mighty good and mighty tempting, too. Putting her fears aside, she decided that for once in her life her belly would take its fill.

Michael took a bite of one of his mother’s syltkakor cookies. He thought about Selina not having enough to eat and how she had given her food to her brothers and her father first and then to some stranger on the train. A woman she’d just met. The very idea of that stirred something deep inside him. He wanted to provide for her and protect her from ever going hungry again.

As she continued to enjoy her cookie Michael used the opportunity to study her. Dark-brown eyelashes, long and full, almost touched the top of her high cheekbones. Her nose had a slight bump in the middle, and her lips were pink, with a few cookie crumbs sprinkled on them.

He reached over to wipe them off. The moment his thumb made contact with her lips, her eyes flew open and she jumped back. “What ya doin’?”

“You had crumbs on your lips.” He flashed her a sheepish smile. “I was just wiping them off for you.”

She swiped her mouth with her hands and then with her sleeve. With one eye slit, she tilted to the side. “Much obliged, I’m sure.” She sat as far back into her kitchen chair as possible as if to get away from him. “What kind a cookies are them anyways? They sure are good.”

“They’re syltkakors.”

“Silt a whats?”

“Swedish sandwich cookies.”

“Oh.” That was all she said before taking another bite.

Watching her enjoy every morsel made him realize just how much he had taken for granted. He had always had plenty to eat, a roof over his head and an abundance of clothes. Never had he lacked for anything. But Selina had. And yet she didn’t seem bitter, nor did she complain about her lack. He wondered just how many times in her life she had gone without so another would not. Knowing how poor she was, he was surprised by her generosity. And if he was willing to admit it even to himself, that generosity endeared her to him. Just how he felt about that, he wasn’t sure. But he was sure about one thing. He would definitely find out. That thought both frightened and intrigued him.

Chapter Four

Five cookies later, Selina laid her hand against her gut. This was the first time she’d had a belly full of anything and it felt mighty nice. And scary. Her fears of running out of food stuck to her like caked-on mud. Would she ever get over that fear even after all Michael had said about having plenty?

Michael’s eyes trailed to her mouth. Last time he’d touched her lips her belly and heart fluttered as if someone had released a thousand fireflies into them. So before he could brush the crumbs from off her lips again, she hurried up and did it herself.