The Unlikely Wife. Debra Ullrick
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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.
She followed him, hoping to do something to reclaim her pride. “I’ll help you.”
He stopped on the stair and looked down at her. The man sure had pretty blue eyes.
“Help me? You don’t have to help me. Chores are man’s work.”
“Not where I come from they’re not. Besides, I aim to do my part to earn my keep and to help out around here.”
He raised his hat and forked his fingers through his hair, then put his hat back on. “Selina, you don’t have to earn your keep. You’re my wife.”
A wife you don’t want.
“And no wife of mine is going to do chores.”
Did she just hear what she thought she’d heard?
She planted her hands on her hips. “And no man is ever gonna tell me what to do.”
Not even her husband—no, make that especially not her husband. She’d never let him bully or boss her around or tell her what she could and couldn’t do like her cousin Mary’s husband had done. Mary had always been a cheerful and happy sort until she’d gotten hitched. Her husband stripped the life out of her with his controlling, bullying ways. He’d broken Mary’s spirit until she was walking and acting like some dead person. Even worse, Mary had let him.
Well, not this gal.
Michael came back down the stairs and looked her right in the eyes. “I’ll say it again. Chores are man’s work and no wife of mine is going to do men’s chores.”
Just who did this sidewinder think he was, bossing her around like that? She stepped even closer, coming toe-to-toe with him. “And I’ll say it again. No man is ever gonna tell me what I can or can’t do.” Selina refused to be beholden to anybody. She’d seen the ugliness of that, too.