“Perhaps we are both fools.”
The statement was in turn tender and far too true. Perhaps they were both fools.
She voiced the questions that ate her from within. “How could we be given such a place? Complete strangers with not so much as a half-pence between us.”
“Doctor Smith said he vouched for our characters. We will care for the property, work the land, and soon be able to provide the money necessary to purchase it.”
The scowl on her face formed before she could stop it. She hadn’t any idea how to work land. She pulled her lip between her teeth. At least William did. And perhaps if she kept close enough to him to study how he worked, her deficiencies would be less discernible.
Walking side by side in silence as they did, reminded her of the first days they’d spent together. And the first nights. Even now his nearness created the same delicious tingles that she’d tried to ignore, for why should she feel this way? She allowed herself a quick peek at him and her pulse struggled to find a regular rhythm. His dark blonde hair seemed to glow in the sunlight, his freshly shaven jaw…. She stopped mid-thought and squinted. Aye, those were scars on his face. Few and faint, but visible. She looked away before he could catch her staring. Small pox. Those tell-tale scars were not to be mistaken. When had he endured it? How had he survived?
The sounds of their shoes against the ground and occasional song of a bird were the only disturbance in the expansive silence, bringing her once again to the place her mind seemed far too willing to venture. Those nights beside him in the Watson’s spare room…Anna blushed at the memory. Though they’d shared a bed, that was all they had done. He had not forced himself upon her. Did he not think it his right? Was he simply being chivalrous in allowing her time? Then again, considering they were not in their own home, perhaps he prepared to wait for tonight.
The thought fell so heavy from her mind she almost careened against the wall of it. Tonight.
William shifted the basket in his grasp, and blessedly stole her from the impassable thoughts. “When I surveyed the property yesterday, I found it more than fitting for our needs.” He offered a quick look before keeping his sight on the road. “There’s food aplenty. In fact, more than we can use. The vegetables are ready to harvest, and the apple trees are so laden the branches are near to touching the ground.”
He stopped and pointed to a small home at the end of the road. Behind it, a barn rested beside an expansive garden.
Beautiful.
She felt his heated gaze upon her. “What do you think of it?” he asked.
Think? She could hardly place two thoughts together. It looked like something out o
f a storybook. Quaint, cozy. In fact, ’twas what she’d dreamed for herself as a child. Far different from the opulent life into which she’d been born. ’Twas in such a place she imagined happy families lived and worked side by side, where parents cared for one another and bore children who thrived on the love of mother and father.
Anna’s hands shook when the truth arrested her hopes. Children would never be part of their future.
The air pled for an answer. She shifted her feet and inhaled, hiding the fears that bellowed within. “’Tis lovely. ’Tis perfect, really.”
With a single nod, a testament that he approved of her answer, William started again. Anna could not. Panic gripped her. She didn’t know how to harvest or bake, cook or preserve. She hadn’t any idea how to keep a house, to clean and launder. The only thing she could do was sew. A pitiful skill considering what necessities required proficiency. The realization of her lacking abilities seized until her legs cramped, holding her rigid, like a frightened animal in the road. She stared at the peaceful-looking home. Her home. Sweet, inviting and too dream-like to be described in words, and she, not worthy to sweep its floors. What have I done? She would fail him. Then he would regret his decision as powerfully as she regretted hers now.
William stopped a few paces ahead before coming back beside her. “Are you unwell? You look ashen.”
Anna took a deep breath, but hadn’t the strength to look at him when she answered. “I am well. Simply, overcome.”
His hand came to her elbow and she looked up, the understanding in his eyes dispelling the dark misgivings in the corners of her spirit. “Overcome in a pleasing way, I hope.”
She flung him a quick look, pulling her lips into a smile she prayed would bleed into her heart. The heat from the sun somehow gave her the strength she lacked as she forced her heavy legs to move again. This time he stayed beside her, matching her stride as they neared the welcoming cottage. It grew larger with every step forward. Its windows, like eyes upon a face, grew wider and brighter as if expressing its joy at their arrival.
“You are tired, no doubt.” William made conversation more easily than she was able. “Do not feel the need to begin chores today. This is new to both of us and certainly some rest is in order.”
He finished speaking just as they reached the door, and Anna gazed upward, looking over and around the house that would be hers—and his.
The red siding peeled in places, but the front step was swept clean and the air smelled of sun-kissed herbs.
William switched the basket to his other arm and reached around to open the door. “Welcome home, Mrs. Fredericks.”
~~~
William clenched his chest so tight only the tiniest breath could squeeze through his lungs. His wife stood motionless at the threshold, peering into the house as if she were making a mental inventory of everything she could see without moving a muscle.
His hand around the woven basket gripped harder and a twig snapped. Was she waiting for him to carry her in? Wasn’t that a tradition? Is that what her departed husband had done for her the day they married?
Just when he thought his chest would burst from lack of air, she stepped in and he released a silent breath. Either she hadn’t expected it, or he’d waited too long. Thankfully, the moment had passed and he could move on to the next inevitable blunder.
As he would have expected, she walked straight to the kitchen fire, depositing her bag on the table that rested in the center of the room. Small as the house was, the kitchen, dining room, and parlor were all the same space, reminiscent of the dilapidated cabin they’d shared that first night. Only this place was clean, well kept, and larger. The loft space was sufficient for a full bedroom, complete with a fireplace directly above the one downstairs. Another room, most likely where the Mr. And Mrs. Attick had slept, rested behind a door adjacent to the fireplace on the main floor.