Husband By Arrangement. Angel Moore
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“Whoa, girl.” Rena’s soft voice held a soothing quality. “I’m sorry.” She rubbed her hands together again and, this time, succeeded in getting milk into the bucket.
“I’ll leave you to your work.” He backed out of the stall and went to feed the other animals.
A few minutes later, he saw her carrying the bucket toward the cabin. He smiled and shook his head. If she was that determined in everything she faced, she’d have no problems adjusting to life on a homestead.
A breeze swirled between where he stood at the gate of the corral and the cabin. It lifted the ribbon that held Rena’s hair in place and tossed it across her face. She pulled it back with her free hand and kept moving. Even while lugging a bucket of fresh milk she looked calm and in control. He knew it wasn’t true. Nothing in the last two days had happened the way either of them had planned. He knew in his heart that she’d never have married him for any other reason.
He remembered his mother’s love for him. How she’d taught him to milk a cow and brush a horse. He’d learned so much from her. Things that got him through every day of his life as an adult.
Things Rena had never had to do. She’d surprised him with how well she’d handled the cow, but if she was going to survive on this homestead, she’d need other lessons. He knew his mother would want him to teach her.
Scott pulled the barn door closed and headed for the cabin. It probably wouldn’t happen quickly, but he’d start tonight.
He unloaded the wagon and carried their supplies into the cabin while Rena cooked.
“Where do you want this?” He carried the stand for her bowl and pitcher.
She looked up from the pot of beans she stirred. “I’d like it in the corner by the window if it will fit.”
“Okay.” He pushed the door of her room open with his boot. “Over here?” He called over his shoulder and was startled when she spoke from right behind him.
“There.” She pointed to her preferred spot. “And could you push the trunk a little bit to the right?”
He put the stand where she directed, and then shoved the trunk over. “Anything else?”
“Well, since you asked, could you move the bed to that wall?” She looked a little sheepish. “The morning sun warms that part of the room.”
“It does?” He nodded and pulled the bed frame to its new location.
“That’s perfect.” She looked around the room, and her gaze stopped on the trunk.
His sister had rearranged the furniture in the front room several times before she’d decided the first way he’d set it was the best. Pulling heavy things from one side of the room to another wasn’t new to him. “What is it?” He followed her eyes. “Oh, now the trunk needs to be where the bed was before?”
Her mouth dropped open. “Yes! How did you know?” She scooted out of his way. “And the mirror should be over here.”
He straightened from moving the trunk and made a show of sniffing the air. “Are the beans sticking in the pot?”
“Oh no!” She dashed by him on her way to the stove. “I completely forgot about supper.”
Scott laughed and moved the mirror.
When he went back into the front room, she was pouring the beans into a bowl. “Only the ones on the bottom were scorched.” She filled two cups with fresh milk and set them on the table.
“You did well with the cow.” He sat on the hearth and tugged off his boots.
“Thank you.” She put a plate of fried sausage on the table. “I know everything won’t be as easy to conquer as that was, but I’m glad to be making progress.”
“Have you ever lit a fire?”
Her back was to him as she pulled plates from the shelf on the far wall. “Papa always lit the fires at home.” She turned to look at him over her shoulder. “He said it was man’s work.”
“He did, did he?” Scott was glad she had moments where she relaxed enough to tease him. She had often teased her father when Scott had occasion to be in their home. He’d enjoyed watching their easy relationship, even though she’d never made any effort to build a friendship with him.
“Said he’d never let Momma light a fire. Didn’t want her to get the soot on her clothes.”
“Is that so?” He chuckled and pulled a match from the cast-iron holder on the wall by the fireplace. “Well, your mother didn’t live out on a homestead. Town ladies have a different kind of life.”
She put the plates on the table. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that you’ve got a lot to learn about homesteading, and I think we need to start with the basics. You’re good with a stove, but during the winter the fireplace will need to be kept lit while we’re home. You’ll be here during the day while I’m in town taking care of my work as sheriff.”
“You could light the fire in the morning before you go.” She stood on the far side of the table.
“And what if some night I’m kept in town on business? You could wake in the morning to find the fire out. Can’t have you and the little one freezing in the cabin while I’m all cozy in my office with a fire in the stove.”
“You mean to leave me here alone with a new baby and stay out overnight?” When had their light banter turned to fear in her?
He took a step toward her. “No, Rena. I was only teasing you with the possibility that I might be caught away overnight. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as if she was cold. “I’m not frightened.”
“Rena, I truly am sorry that the thought of being here alone isn’t the same as the safety you felt in town in your pa’s house.” Scott looked at her. “Life on a homestead isn’t like living in town. You’re going to need to learn to tend the fire. I’ll teach you to shoot, so you can protect yourself and the little one.” He didn’t mean to do it, but his eyes dropped to her midsection. “I’ll pray you never need to shoot anyone or anything. But it is important for you to know how.”
She shuddered, and he came to stand in front of her. “Don’t worry. You’re a brave person.” Before he thought about what he was doing, he pulled her into his arms and held her against his chest. “You’ll conquer the skills you need in no time.”
Rena relaxed against him for a moment, and then bolted out of his embrace. “I’m not going to worry.” She must have been dredged up the resolve in her eyes from the depths of her soul. It hadn’t been there when he’d reached out to comfort her. She plucked the match from his hand and went to the fireplace. In no time at all the flames began to lick up the kindling. She tossed the match into the fire and spun around. “Don’t think that my life in town kept me from basic skills. I may have been a bit pampered as the mayor’s daughter, but I’m an independent woman who can take care of herself, too.” She lifted her cute nose up in the air just a fraction and grinned. She was trying to make him laugh and not focus on the fear she had shown.
He made a sweeping gesture and bowed in her direction. “I will remember your ability the next time I’m tempted to help you.”
Her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly at his poor choice of words. He hoped she didn’t think he regretted helping her—or that he wouldn’t want to help her in the future.
“Good.” She crossed to the table. “Let’s eat before these burned beans get cold.”
Scott followed her lead and kept the conversation on easy matters for the rest of the evening. Only when he plumped up his pillow and settled into bed did he allow himself to think about her reaction.
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