Adela's Prairie Suitor (The Annex Mail-Order Brides Book 1) (7 page)

A nervous chuckle escaped her lips. “I expect so, but I’d like to learn how to do some chores, and your mother doesn’t want me helping inside. Could I help you plow?”

“Plow?” One brow cocked, and he looked like he was suddenly afraid of her. “We’re harvesting corn right now, so I don’t…wait… Yeah, there is something you can do. We have one more row of popcorn to pull. We grow enough to munch on throughout the winter. Wait here and I’ll get you a sack.”

He rushed into the barn and came back out with a gunny sack. “Here, you put the ears in here and bring them back to the barn. After they’ve dried out, you can help shell them.”

“Where is the row of popcorn?” She took the sack and her frayed skirt flapped.

“Not far.” He cupped her elbow,
and she skipped to keep up with him, a hard thing to do while trying to use the gunny sack to cover her exposed legs.

He came to an abrupt stop and pointed. “Over there. See it?”

Several rows of corn with burnish tassels marched along the clearing. “Should I pull all the ears?”

“All that are good. They’ve done about all they’re going to. You can tell the stalks are turning.”

She hated to sound ignorant, but better to sound ignorant than make a mistake. “How do I tell the good from the bad?”

He took his hat off and ran his fingers through his hair. “If they look full, they’re good. If you’re not sure, peel back the shucks a bit to see if the kernels are mature.” He looked at her with furrowed brow. She wouldn’t ask how to tell if the kernels were mature. He already thought her hopelessly ignorant.

Settling his hat back in place, he smiled. “I better get back to the fields.” Still he didn’t move, and they stood staring at each other for long moments.

It took real effort to pull her gaze from him, but she’d better get her mind off him and concentrate on doing a good job of harvesting the popcorn. She was going to learn how to do everything on this farm. He didn’t think her capable now—and she wasn’t capable—but she’d learn. She was determined to be a farmer’s wife.

He finally turned on his heel and walked away.

Only then, with his back to her, did she turn and run to the house, the cold air telling her more of her flesh was exposed than any man had a right to see.

After changing clothes, Adela harvested the popcorn and hung the stalks in the rafters of the hayloft. When she returned to the house, the clanking of pots and pans told her Mrs. Calhoun was preparing lunch. She followed the noise.

Mrs. Calhoun stood at the stove stirring her stewpot. Adela ambled to her side and peeped inside. “Can I help you with anything?”

With a loud tap of the spoon against the side of the pot, Mrs. Calhoun sent an apprising glance at Adela. “Not a thing. It’s a good hour and a half before the men come in for lunch. I’m going over to the Lynstrum’s for a can of peaches. I’ve plumb run out and want to make a peach cobbler for supper.” She untied her apron as she spoke. “The stew’s just getting started. You could give it a stir now and then.”

Adela had another question, but Mrs. Calhoun was already out the back door. She took the apron Mrs. Calhoun had discarded and tied it on. If there wasn’t anything to be done in the kitchen, the parlor could certainly use some cleaning. She dipped out a pan of water from the reservoir. After slivering some soap into the water, she found a dish rag. She threw it across her shoulder, hefted
the pan, and headed into the parlor.

She’d start with the windows. For some reason, the parlor windows had no curtains. That seemed odd, but it might be Mrs. Calhoun hadn’t gotten around to washing the windows. Adela could take care of that and maybe get in the good graces of her future mother-in-law as well.

Dust was a never ending problem out here, what with fields being plowed under for the winter. The windows were coated inside and out. She cleaned the windows inside and took her pan to the outside. After some searching, she found a short ladder by the side of the barn. With some stretching, she managed to reach the upper panes.

By the time she’d finished that, beads of sweat covered her forehead and upper lip. But the windows sparkled. She blotted her face with the corner of her apron and smiled with satisfaction. One didn’t accomplish anything without a little sweat.

Mrs. Calhoun still hadn’t returned, so Adela stirred the stew and fell to cleaning the furniture. It could stand a good rubbing with bees wax, but she didn’t know where, or if, it could be found, so she buffed the surfaces as best she could. She put away the clutter in the most obvious places and stood back to admire the room. Mrs. Calhoun and Byron would surely notice.

But they didn’t. In fact, no one went into the parlor at lunchtime. Byron mentioned he was going into town as they lifted their heads after the blessing.

“Wished I’d known that.” Mrs. Calhoun ladled stew into their bowls. “I had to go to Hilda Jane’s for a can of peaches.”

“I don’t usually go into town until Saturday, but Lem needs a part to fix the buggy, and Adela wants to do some shopping. Go ahead and make a list, Ma.”

Adela’s heart raced at the prospect of being alone with Byron. Also, she wanted to get the fabric to make some work dresses—and an apron. She realized she hadn’t taken off Mrs. Calhoun’s apron. “Do you have an apron pattern, Mrs. Calhoun? I’m going to buy some calico for a new dress. I brought my own dress patterns, but I’d like to sew up a couple of aprons as well.”

“You don’t need a pattern for an apron. Just cut the pieces like that one you have on.”

Adela laughed. “Oh, so I can. It should be simple enough.” She knew the men weren’t paying attention, but Mrs. Calhoun had again managed to make her feel foolish.

As the meal progressed, Byron and Lem got into a discussion about the broken buggy. Adela judged she’d just have enough time to visit the outhouse and grab her hat and money for shopping. She didn’t want Byron to have to wait for her. She excused herself before the rest had finished eating. “I’ll be waiting by the wagon.”

Demurely seated several inches from Byron on the buckboard seat, Adela chattered like a noisy wren all the way to Crabapple. She kept the cherries bobbing on her dainty hat, and her dark chocolate eyes shone with excitement at the prospect of making new dresses. She explained how she’d helped her friend, Ramee, sew the creations she designed for socially prominent ladies.

Byron got the impression Adela was trying to convince him of her ability to sew, and that was wasted on him. He’d thought all females were born with the ability, but he read more behind the chatty appeal. She evidently felt a need to prove her worth, that she could pass muster as a farmer’s wife. He might be wrong, but the thought warmed his insides that she wanted to be his wife.

He was glad she could occupy her time sewing. Adela didn’t handle boredom easily, and who could blame her?
Ma refused to trust her in the kitchen, and Byron had discouraged her from exploring the farm until he could be present.

When they got to Crabapple, Byron tried to see it through Adela’s eyes. One dusty road with weathered buildings running on both sides. Dry goods store on one end, dance hall on the other where the saloon used to be. Temperance had come to the town and drove out liquor, or so they said. Byron suspected there were moonshine bottles carried inside the dance hall where gambling and loose women still flourished.

He pointed out the various shops along the way—blacksmith, livery stables, drug store, barber shop on one side. Tannery, doctor’s office, land sales, dry goods on the other.

The bell jingled overhead as Byron held the door at Davidson Dry Goods for Adela. An urge to show her off hit him. “Hey Howard, want you to meet a new customer.”

Howard Davison glanced over his shoulder where he was positioning clothing items on the shelves that ran along the wall. “Always glad to meet a new customer.” He dusted off his pants and strode toward them.

“This is Adela Mason, visiting from Massachusetts. She’s done me the honor of allowing me to court her, so treat her good.”

“Well, I heard about Miss Mason arriving. Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

Pride swelled Byron’s chest as Adela greeted Howard with a winsome smile, looking so pretty. “Pleased to meet you as well. I’d like to purchase some calico and sewing notions.” She held the side of her satin skirt. “I find I’m not dressed to work on a farm.”

“You got her working, Byron?” Howard laughed. “That’s not the way I did courting in my day.”

Byron laughed too, but Adela took it seriously. “Oh, no, he isn’t requiring me to work. I like it. I mean, I like to stay busy.”

“That won’t be a problem for a farmer’s wife, will it, Byron?” Howard nudged Byron.

“No, sir, not at all.”

“The fabric is over the next aisle, Miss Mason.” Howard pointed the way, and Adela left with a parting smile.

“I’ll go on to the smithy and get him busy making this part. Take your time, Miss Mason. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Byron told her.

He hoped they could get the buggy fixed before Sunday. His mind already pictured driving up to church with Adela. If anyone commanded the attention of the congregation more than a new baby, it was a courting couple. He prayed Ma would go with Mr. Lynstrum, so he’d have Adela to himself.

Byron started for the door, but Howard called to him. “One of your boys got in trouble the other night.”

Freezing, Byron turned. He could guess which boy. Dick Ray, a sixteen-year-old with nothing to do but get in trouble. “Dick?”

“That’s the one. Smashed the back window at the dance hall. Nothing was missing. Guess he was looking for liquor or something.”

“I think I’ll stop by Dick’s place, and see if I can persuade him to come help out with the corn harvest.”

“Won’t be at his place. He’s in jail.”

“Jail?” Byron let out a long breath. “Why, if he didn’t steal anything?”

“Couldn’t replace the window, I guess.”

Byron would have to go down to the jail and pay for the window. He hoped he had enough money. Dick and his two slightly less troublesome friends needed to get out of town. Trouble was, they didn’t like farm work. Well, in this case, Dick didn’t have a choice.

A quarter of an hour later, Byron had stopped by the smithy and gotten Dick out of jail. He returned to the buckboard with a sullen boy and empty pockets. “Get up in back and wait, you hear, don’t run off, or the sheriff will come for you.”

“I ain’t going nowhere.” The boy got down on his haunches in the back of the buckboard.

Byron strode to the dry goods store, hoping he hadn’t kept Adela waiting. That wasn’t too likely. Most women took forever to make a decision over what pattern and color of fabric to buy. Feminine laugher greeted him when he entered the store.

He found Adela with Mrs. Hawkins beside the table containing bolts of fabric. She held a folded length of cream and rose print in her hands.

“And the gray and violet will make up a serviceable dress for everyday,” Mrs. Hawkins was saying. “You’ll have enough to make a matching bonnet, and this ribbon will go perfectly with the rose you have there for dress-up.”

With the ribbon streaming from her hand, Adela looked up as Byron approached. “What do you think, Byron?” How easily she used his given name.

“Looks mighty pretty.” He doffed his hat to Mrs. Hawkins.

Mrs. Hawkins grinned, shoving more wrinkles in her face. “Byron, you naughty boy, not telling a body you was planning on getting married. Have y’all set a date?”

He looked to Adela who turned redder than the roses in her fabric. “I’m afraid…I…I told Mrs. Hawkins why I’m visiting.”

He shook off his momentary discomfiture. “No reason not to let everyone know. I’m courting Miss Mason, Mrs. Hawkins, but we haven’t set a date. In fact, she hasn’t given her answer yet. But there’s plenty of time.” He hoped he’d put it in a way to explain the awkward situation without making Adela feel foolish.

“Well, I want to be the first to know, y’all hear?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He doffed his hat again to the departing woman.

Byron put Adela’s purchases and the box of items he’d bought in the back of the wagon with Dick. He introduced Adela to the young man, adding, “Dick’s going to be working out at the farm for a few days.” This was Byron’s arrangement with Dick to pay off the broken window. He wished he could put Dick and the other two boys in a bunkhouse at the old ranch, but didn’t have the funds to finish building it at the moment, if he ever did.

“Do you like farm work, Dick?” Adela asked.

“Nah, I like to work with cattle, ride out in wide open spaces.”

“You’ll find the same chores, whether a farm or ranch, Dick.” Byron knew that wasn’t exactly so, but no use to sugar-coat the truth. Life was hard no matter what you did.

Adela chatted gaily about her childhood on the farm. It was as if she sensed Byron needed to convince Dick to make the most of this experience, and she was trying to help. She seemed to read his intentions quite well. He was beginning to understand her too. Like the way her mood changed as they approached home.

It hadn’t passed his notice that Ma tried her best to snub Adela, and he didn’t know what to do about it. She turned down all of Adela’s offers to help with the cooking or chores, and ran off to Hilda Jane’s without inviting Adela to go. He couldn’t believe Ma would leave a guest without a by-your-leave.

He made a note to talk to Ma about that tonight. She was being downright rude, but she might as well get used to the idea that Adela would become his wife. He’d been raised to honor his parents and wanted Ma’s blessing, but he wanted Adela more.

Ma had supper waiting for them when they got home. Right afterward, Adela wanted to cut out her new dress. Lem took Dick out to the barn to find him a place for the night, and Byron should have gone with them, but he volunteered to help Ma with the dishes.

“Did you go by the bank?” Ma asked, handing him a cleaned plate to dry off.

“No need. I know how much is in there.”

Ma grunted like she often did when she disagreed. “You may have to sell those two heifers.”

“They’re both pregnant. I’d like to wait until they drop.” Selling the heifers wouldn’t help much anyway. He’d have to sell some land, looked like.