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The Unlikely Wife

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Год написания книги
2019
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“This is yours?”

“Yes. It is.”

“Well, I’ll be hanged. You told me you were a pig farmer. Or did Aimee lie about that, too?”

“No. She didn’t. I am a pig farmer. But I said that I also raise cattle.”

“Oh, no,” she groaned. “I can’t believe I up and married myself a rich man.”

Michael turned his head her direction. “You sound like that’s a bad thing.”

“It is. Iffen I’d a known you was rich, I’d never have answered that ad.”

“What do you have against rich people?”

“Lots of things. Folks who have money think they’re better than poor folk. Treatin’ us like we’re lower than dirt. Like we have no feelin’s at all.”

“Hey, now just you wait a minute. You can’t go judging all rich people by the ones where you come from. My family and I do not turn up our noses at poor folks or treat them like dirt, either. Nor are we mean. I resent you clumping us into some category when you don’t even know us.”

“You might resent it, but the truth is you’re just like them rich folks back home. Back at the train station I saw you turn your nose down at me and how I look. My whole life people been judgin’ me by the way I dress. All I can say is, I’m mighty glad the good Lord looks at the heart and not the outside like some folks do.”

His cheeks turned the color of a rusty-pink sunset.

“Aimee was rich, too. And look what she did to us.” Selina spoke under her breath, still in shock at what her friend had done. She didn’t want to think about that right now though. It hurt too much.

She hopped down from the wagon and grabbed her bag. Good thing she’d found a flour sack and put it to rights the best way she could, or she wouldn’t have had anything to put her few belongings in.

Her eyes trailed to the huge house again and she wondered how many people lived here.

Michael was waiting for her at the end of the steps, looking uncomfortable.

Well, he wasn’t the only one who felt that way. C’mon, Selina. You can do this. She met him and followed him up the stairs.

Michael opened the door and waited for her to go in first. One thing about the man, he was a gentleman. She stepped inside and stopped. Never in all of her born days had she seen anything so fancy.

The place was filled with more furniture than she’d ever laid eyes on. Her focus slid to the rich brown kitchen table and the six matching chairs with fancy carved legs and arms. Fresh flowers flowed from a large vase in the center of the table, which was covered with a lacy tablecloth.

And the cook stove, why, it was mighty fine. Unlike the old potbelly stove back home. That thing was harder than the dickens to keep burning and the door barely hung on.

Selina stepped farther inside, taking in the whole room. Two cream-colored rockers with gold squiggly lines running through the fancy curved tops and arms sat on one side of the fireplace, facing a matching sofa with blue, gold and cream-colored pillows on it. Betwixt them was a long table. A large oval blue-and-cream rug had been placed underneath the table. Sure was pretty.

Heavy drapes held back by a braided rope covered six tall living room windows.

On the mantel of the large stone fireplace sat a clock, with three different-sized brass candlestick holders on each side of it.

Selina strode toward the fireplace and crouched down, peering past the metal screen.

Why, the thing went plumb through to the other side into a bedroom with a cherry-colored dresser topped with a long mirror, another dresser that was taller and a four-poster bed, and all of them were done in the same fancy carved wood as the rest of the place. On top of the bed was a white quilt with light and dark blue circles and dark blue pillow covers. Pale blue drapes swagged the windows.

She loved blue. A tear slipped from her eye. She thumbed it away and wouldn’t allow any more to escape. Knowing Aimee had told Michael that Selina loved blue made her wonder if the blue bed quilt and house curtains were done on purpose. Well, even if they had been, who were they done for? Her or Aimee?

Selina turned to see Michael standing in the doorway with his hat in his hands, watching her. Never before had she felt so out of place or uncomfortable. And she didn’t like it. Not one little bit. She pressed her shoulders back, determined to not let it show. “Your home is beautiful, Michael. Whoever took the time of it did a right fine job.”

When he said nothing, she played with the bead on her hat string. No longer able to stand the silence, she said, “Well, I reckon you must be hungry. Let me get my rifle and I’ll hunt us up some grub.”

His head bobbed forward like a rooster. “Grub? Are you serious?”

She raised her chin, not liking how he made her feel with his tone. “Yes, sir, I am serious. You wanna eat, don’t ya?”

“Well, yes, but you don’t have to hunt for any grub,” he said the word grub as if he hadn’t ever heard it before. “I’m assuming grub refers to food.”

Sure enough, he hadn’t.

“I have a cellar and a pantry full of meat and anything else you might need. Here. I’ll show you.” Michael walked over to a small room off the kitchen, opened the door and stepped to the side.

Selina came up beside him at the doorway entry and peered inside. Her eyeballs nearly popped out of their sockets. The room was filled with canned goods, a large bag of flour and sugar, eggs, coffee, cornmeal and just about anything a body would need to fix a meal. Except she didn’t see any meat.

“That door at the end of the pantry leads into the cellar,” he said from behind her. A little too close behind her as far as she was concerned. She squirmed forward, but his broad-shouldered body took up most of the small space. Thing was, it didn’t seem that small before he stepped into it.

Wood, soap and peppermint scents drifted from him. He sure smelled nice.

Swallowing to stop the thoughts, she moved farther into the room, putting even more space between them.

“You’ll find whatever meat you need down there along with fresh vegetables and canned fruit.”

Selina opened the door and squatted, trying to see in the dark hole but couldn’t. It was coal black. When she stood, Michael picked up a lantern and matches from one of the shelves and lit it.

“Here. Take this.”

She took it from him and made her way slowly down the steep, narrow stairs, expecting one of them to give way any time, but they never did. They were nothing like the rickety steps back home. These were nice and sturdy.

At the bottom of the steps, she held the lantern up. Jumpin’ crickets! she thought, unable to believe her eyes. One whole side of the room was filled with hanging meat. All sorts of canned goods lined two of the walls. Barrels of taters, carrots, dehydrated apples, turnips and onions lined the other wall. More food than a body could eat in a year.

Michael stepped into the cavelike room, filling it with his presence. She struggled to keep her wits about her as she continued to take in what was before her. “How many will I be feedin’?”

“Just you and me.”

Selina whirled. “All a this food is just for the two of us?”

“Yes. I wanted to make sure there was plenty when you got here. We butchered a few head of cows and some pigs and divided the meat. Mother, Rainee, Hannah and Leah canned all the fruits and vegetables and the fish and chicken, you see.”

“There sure is a lot of it. Must’ve taken them a long time to put up so much. Well, from now on, I can do ours so they won’t have to.”

“You know how to can?”

“Sure do. I told you so in my letters.” Her heart dropped to the dirt floor of the cellar with that slip of the tongue. Now why’d she have to go and bring up them letters for? All that did was remind her that she wasn’t the woman her husband was expecting, that she wasn’t loved and that this wasn’t a real marriage and probably never would be.

“Well, I need to go and finish my chores.” He turned and headed toward the steps.
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