Train Station Bride Page 9

  It didn’t always register in Jake’s head that Julia would not understand. She’d grown up a pampered daughter, not a farm child. Maybe after harvest he’d plan a late honeymoon in Sioux Falls. A change of scenery may be all Julia needed. “There’s going to be seven men to cook for, not counting me and you. Breakfast and supper as well.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “Flossie will help. Make lots of beans and biscuits,” Jake said.

  Julia nodded blankly.

  “And plenty of meat. We’ll be tired, every one of us, and hungry as bears in the spring,” Jake added.

  “Why don’t we have enough men?” Julia asked.

  “Don’t know. Never had this problem before.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Just bad luck this year I suppose.” Jake turned to a knock at the door. “Come on in, Slim.”

  “Jake’s sister sent stew, Slim. Would you like some?” Julia asked.

  “No Ma’am. Kind of you to offer.” The wizened man turned to Jake. “We got problems, boss.”

  “What now?”

  Slim turned his hat in his hand. “Two more boys done and quit on us. Phelps and Withrow. Don’t know how we’re going to bring this corn in.”

  Jake jumped from his chair. “What?”

  “Two more boys, boss. And the part I don’t like is that some dandy gave ‘em two hundred dollars to do it,” Slim repeated.

  Jake sat down slowly in his chair. “What are you talking about?”

  “Well, I don got suspicious when the others quit. Rode into town with Phelps, Saturday night. We was a playing cards when he, Phelps that is, up and left the table. I laid down two pair to follow ‘em,” Slim said.

  “Why’d you get suspicious?” Jake asked.

  “Just didn’t seem right somehow when Jethro Melton quit last week. He’s been with us every harvest going on six years, and when he left, he done rode out with out even a goodbye,” Slim said.

  “Where did Mr. Phelps go when he left the poker table, Slim?” Julia asked.

  “That’s the thing. He was standing outside the saloon jawing with some city man. When he sees me, he stuffs a whole wad of bills in his pocket and takes off. I knew that boy’s family for years. Didn’t seem right him acting so strange with such an upright Ma and Pa. So’s I hightail it on outa town till I catches him.” Slim dropped his head. “Said some man gave him two hundred dollars not to work for you.”

  “Why in God’s name would someone chase off my hands. And who would be fool enough to spend that kind of money to do it?” Jake asked. Julia looked ghost pale when he turned to her.

  “What did the man look like, Slim? The one that gave Mr. Phelps the money,” Julia asked.

  Slim scratched his head. “That’s the funny part of all this. Never saw him before. He weren’t from around here that’s for sure. Some fancy checked suit and one of them round hats. What they called?” Slim asked.

  “Bowler hats,” Julia answered.

  “What are you getting at, Julia?” Jake asked as he turned his attention from his foreman to his wife. “What’s the difference what kind of hat the man wore?”

  Julia’s eyes darted. “Mr. Smith wore a bowler hat, Jake,” she whispered.

  “Who?” Recognition dawned on Jake. “Why in the hell would Smith . . .” He fell silent and stared at his wife. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking Mr. Smith was instructed by my father to do anything to make you see reason,” Julia said.

  “Your father doesn’t own me, Julia,” Jake said, shaking with anger. “What in God’s name does he hope to accomplish by running my hands away at harvest?”

  “Going to put us in a bad way, boss,” Slim said. “If’n that’s what the man set out to do, he did it.”

  “Thanks, Slim,” Jake said as he slowly turned around in his seat. The bang of the screen door made him jump with a start. Julia’s head was bowed, and tears trickled down her face. What in the hell kind of family did she come from? Jake reached for her hand, and she pulled away. He stood, picked her up out of her chair and sat his wife in his lap. He kissed her hair when she turned her face away from him.

  “Your father’s not going to change my mind, Julia. You’re staying. You’re my wife. For better or worse,” he said in a low voice.

  “I didn’t hear all my vows at the train station that day, Jake. It was too loud.” Julia sniffed. “This certainly would qualify though as worse.”

  Jake chuckled softly and rubbed his nose in her hair. “I own this property free and clear. Have a small mortgage on some equipment I bought last year, and I was hoping to pay it off from the harvest this fall. If we can’t get the crops in, then we’ll pay it next year. Might have to cut back a bit, though.”

  Julia shook her head against Jake’s chest. “I won’t buy anymore paint.”

  “I think we can afford paint, but the furniture you were planning on buying might have to wait. I’m sorry.”

  Julia sat up straight on Jake’s lap. “You’re sorry? I’m the one that got you into this mess in the first place.”

  Jake turned her to face him. “I don’t understand what your father’s trying to accomplish. You’re a married woman with or without his consent. Running off my help won’t change that.”

  Julia lowered her lashes. “Father may have not told Smith to ruin you, but I don’t imagine he questioned his methods.” Julia looked Jake square in the eye. “Father and Mother won’t be able to stand the thought that I’ve done something so stupid as to run off and get married. What will they say to their friends? If they get me back under their roof, well . . .”

  Jake placed his hands on Julia’s cheeks and lifted her face till she looked at him. “Listen to me, Julia Shelling. I don’t care what a bunch of society people think. We’re a thousand miles away. Just tell your parents to forget about it. The only people we have to worry about is us.”

  “Make love to me, Jake,” Julia said.

  Jake held her face in his hands. Every fear, hope and dream was visible there. Their lovemaking was reassuring to her. It was a hell of a lot more than that to him. More than a man’s release, a symptom of him being born male. It offered more than physical comfort to him. This beautiful woman wanted him, needed him in a way no one else did. When Julia curled up to him, responded to him, he felt as if he was the biggest, smartest man God had ever graced the earth with. After years of wondering if he’d done the best by his family, by the legacy his parents left him, when Julia touched his chest as she was doing now, Jake was convinced he’d succeed against any obstacle. Was this love? Was this what Flossie was trying to tell him?

  “I’d be happy to oblige you, Mrs. Shelling,” he said.

  Jake carried her to their bedroom. Their clothes slipped to the floor in a heap until they both stood naked before each other.

  “You are too beautiful to grace my bed, Julia,” Jake said as his eyes swept her head to toe.

  Julia smiled softly and ran her hands up his wide arms. “I never thought in a hundred years I’d be married to a man as handsome and kind as you.”

  Jake kissed her deeply and she inched up to him, her breasts touching his chest. He tilted her head back in his hands. “Don’t ever leave me, Julia,” he said.

  “Why would I want to leave you, Jake?” Julia whispered against his mouth. “You make me forget I’m silly and clumsy and fat.”

  Jake watched his hand run down the side of her breast and follow the curve of her waist and hip. “Don’t say that, Julia.” He stared into her eyes. “There isn’t an ounce of flesh on you I want to part with.”

  Julia’s eyes fluttered when he spoke, and he inched her to the bed, gently easing himself down on top of her. Her legs spread under him, and he slipped inside her body. That moment when they joined always made Jake draw a sharp breath. As if he’d been searching for water in a desert and had been suddenly drenched in a cool rain. As if he’d been looking all his life for the place, the spot, he’d fit in this world and found it each time his wife drew him in.<
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  * * *

  Julia cherished their lovemaking. She needed Jake, needed this more than chocolate, more than a home free of ridicule. She opened her eyes to look at him. Was this what she had been searching for? This magical rhythm when he moved in her. Being for those moments pressed under him the most attractive woman in the world. Julia lifted her hips up to meet his thrusts. Gratification was whirling down around her, surrounding her, forcing her breath to come in pants.

  “No need to try and stretch this out, Mr.Shelling,” she said. As often as Jake promised hours of endless pleasure in Julia’s ear, he rarely succeeded. She didn’t mind.

  “Whatever makes you happy, Mrs. Shelling,” Jake groaned and arched into her one final time. He rolled on his back bringing Julia atop of him.

  “God, woman. I swear you make me see stars,” he said.

  Julia laid her head down on Jake’s chest. “Jake?” she whispered.

  “Hmm,” he sighed as he stroked her back.

  “Will we be able to do it? Bring the crops in?” Julia lifted her head. “Will I be able to feed you all?”

  He touched her chin with his finger. “With you beside me, Julia, we can do anything.”

  Chapter Ten

  Fall was coming as the nights grew cooler and leaves began their change from green to gold and the anticipation of unrelenting work. Julia rode to Flossie’s or Gloria’s in the wagon, and they taught her the basics of feeding a kitchen full of hungry men. But her biscuits didn’t always rise, and sometimes her bread baked flatter than when it went in the oven. She made fudge at Flossie’s and showed Millie how to make paper dolls. The day finally came when Jake and Slim decided it was time to bring in the corn. The next morning Jake and Julia were up before sunrise. Julia made omelets the first morning. She would not do that again. She had made twelve of them before men stopped raising empty plates. Julia ate toast. It was all that was left. Scrambled eggs and ham would do fine the next day.

  Julia was watching what she ate, anyway. Miraculously, her skirts seemed too big for her. She moved buttons over on every one, and she had no intentions of having to move them back. Flossie floured and roasted the biggest piece of meat Julia had ever seen. She and Millie decided they hated the feel of raw meat and let Flossie fit it in to a pan Julia was sure she would never be able to lift. Julia, Danny and Millie painted silly faces on the wall in the kitchen.

  “Mine has buck teeth like Jimmy Wilkins, Aunt Julia,” Danny said.

  Millie swiped her nose and left a trail of bright yellow paint. “My tree doesn’t look much like a tree.”

  “Don’t worry,” Julia said. “After harvest I’m going to paint all the walls. I’ll cover it up. But for now we can pretend we’re Michelangelo.”

  “Michael who?” Danny asked.

  “He was an Italian painter and sculptor,” Julia replied.

  “What are you three up to?” Flossie asked from her spot at the kitchen sink.

  Julia looked at her niece and nephew and giggled. “We’re practicing to be famous painters.”

  Flossie turned and eyed the work. “I don’t know how famous any of you are going to be. Come on now, Millie, and get the table set. Danny, go see to your Uncle’s horses. I hear the men coming.”

  Julia jumped up and turned her head to see Flossie’s watch. “Is it that late already?”

  “Four o’clock. Men’ll be ready to eat.”

  * * *

  After the men ate, Julia insisted Flossie go home to Harry. Julia washed dishes till her hands were raw. She hit the bed dog-tired. Jake plopped down beside her. “How many days is it going to take, Jake?”

  His eyes were closed and his arm lay across his forehead. “Weeks at this pace.”

  The days did indeed roll into weeks. Julia was tired from a week ago piled on tired from today. The house needed dusting, and empty paint cans still sat in the hall. She’d never dreamed cooking could be so exhausting. First thing she gathered eggs and hauled milk to the kitchen. Then she cooked. Then she did dishes. Then she cooked. Then she did dishes. Jake was exhausted, too, she could tell. Some mornings he didn’t bother shaving. He just didn’t have time. Jake finally announced they’d be done by week’s end.

  “Oh, thank God,” Julia said and slumped into a chair.

  “We’ll never get the south field in before frost, and the corn’s already sat too long on the stalk. We’ll get done what we can get done and call it a season,” he said.

  “I hate to see you give up,” Julia said.

  Jake rubbed the blistered calluses on his hand. “We’re not giving up, Julia. We did everything we could do.” He touched her hand. “All of us.”

  The next morning Jake was gone to the fields before she woke up. She started stew like Flossie showed her and found an old pair of Jake’s pants. Julia rolled up the hem and belted them with a red silk scarf. She pulled on one of Jake’s flannel shirts and an old pair of barn shoes Gloria had given her. They hadn’t done everything they could do. Even though Jake said they would make it, Julia felt as though she needed to bring in the last ear of corn herself if she had to. This mess was because of her. She hurried out the door when she saw Slim taking the wagon out into the field.

  “Wait, Slim. I want to help,” Julia said as she climbed in beside the old man.

  * * *

  Jake did a double take when he saw Julia riding along side Slim. “Julia, what in God’s name are you doing out here and what are you wearing?”

  Julia jumped down from the wagon. “I’ve come to help.”

  Jake whoahed the horse while the men separating the corn from the stalk wiped their faces and emptied jugs of water. “My wife doesn’t work in a field, Julia Shelling. You go on back to the house and get dinner ready.”

  “Dinner’s on the stove, Jake Shelling. And you told me anything we had to do we could do as long as we were together,” Julia shouted back.

  The men chuckled into their sleeves. Where had his meek frightened wife gone, Jake wondered? “This isn’t what I was talking about.”

  “Show me what to do,” Julia said.

  “You’re going to have blisters, Julia,” Jake said as he jumped from the wagon.

  “As if you don’t. Now quit wasting time and show me what to do,” Julia said.

  Jake drove Julia home in his wagon and left the rest of the men to finish the day’s work late afternoon. She was clinging to the seat, he imagined, too dog-tired to sit up on her own.

  “What in God’s name have you been doing, Julia Shelling?” Flossie asked as she held open the back door.

  “Bringing in corn,” Julia said breathlessly and slid into a chair.

  Flossie stirred the potatoes on the stove. “What did my brother have to say about that?”

  “He wasn’t too happy,” Jake said as he came into the kitchen. He walked to his wife, barely in her chair and lifted her hand. “These blisters will need broken.”

  “I wanted to help,” Julia said and accepted a cool glass of water from Millie. The liquid ran down her chin and onto the front of Jake’s shirt.

  “I put clean water in your room. Go wash. You’ll feel better,” Flossie said. She shooed Julia till she began up the steps.

  “What were you thinking, Jake. Letting Julia work out there. She’s no farm girl,” Flossie chided.

  “She wouldn’t listen to me. I told her twenty times to get on home.” Jake plopped down on a chair. “She feels bad ‘cause she thinks this is her fault.”

  Flossie turned from the stove. “What’s her fault?”

  Jake shared Julia’s suspicions. “She’s convinced this Smith character’s behind my losing hands.”

  “None of that would surprise me from what Julia’s told me of her family. She’s scared to death you’re going to take an offer from her father and send her home to Boston.” Flossie turned to face Jake. “You know that’s why she jumped in your bed her first day here.”

  “I know. She told me.” Jake slowly rose to his feet at a knock at the front
door. “I wonder who that is? If it’s that Smith fella, he’s in for a lot worse than getting thrown out on his ass.”

  Jake recognized Julia’s mother immediately when he opened the door. Similar features and exactly the same hair color. That was where the similarities ended. For every soft quality of Julia’s face her mother’s contrasted with a hard edge. Her father was mid-fifties, well-dressed with dark hair only slightly gray at the temples. They looked like the people on the front of the new Montgomery Wards catalog.

  “May I help you?” he asked.

  * * *

  Julia was so bone tired, she didn’t think she could move. But she was hungry, too. She lay flat back on her bed while her stomach rumbled. She’d never fall asleep like this. Julia peeled off the work boots, washed her hands and face and pulled back her knotted hair with a string. She would eat some stew with Jake and Flossie and fall into bed in an hour. At the top of the steps Julia heard Jake speaking to someone in the front hallway.

  “Well, she’s lying down. You can visit her tomorrow.”

  “Which room is hers? I’ll go see her myself.”

  Julia sat down on the step when her knees gave out. Her mother was here.

  “Why don’t you at least ask these folks if they want a drink or to sit a spell?” Flossie said.

  “The serving girl seems to have more sense than Julia’s husband,” William Crawford commented.

  And her father, too, now referring to Flossie as the serving girl. Julia stood straight and prepared herself. She was no longer under their control. She was Jake’s wife, she chanted. Julia glided down the steps from the landing as if in a ball gown.

  “Mother, Father. What a surprise.”

  “Good Lord, Julia. What are you wearing?” Jane Crawford asked.

  William Crawford turned his ire on Jake. “You have my daughter working as a field hand?”

  “I helped in the fields today. Mr. Smith paid off Jake’s hands to leave in the middle of harvest,” Julia said. Her insides were churning, and she felt as if she were twelve-years-old but she was determined not to let her parents see her anguish. Julia slipped her arm through Flossie’s. “This is my sister-in-law. Flossie. Have you met my husband?”