Mail Order Runaway Page 11
“I’m not sure. It’s…it’s been a while.”
“So you didn’t help cook for your siblings at all?”
“Well…I had a lot of schoolwork.” She searched her mind for true things to say. “And I did work at the shirtwaist factory—”
“But I thought you said you can’t sew? I had assumed that your job at the shirtwaist factory was a lie, then.”
Elinor recognized her mistake too late. “I—well…my sewing skills weren’t up to par, so the manager had me help in the office instead.” That wasn’t completely untrue—she had helped her father on occasion when he had paperwork to catch up on, and went in on the weekend to work on inventory and the like, back when he was the manager. Addie had even come with them one time. They both had been fascinated with the factory. In fact, it was Addie’s connection to Elinor’s father—in addition to her superior sewing skills—which had gotten Addie the job at the shirtwaist factory when she turned seventeen.
“Oh, I see. We’ll get you sewing and cooking in no time. We can get started on teaching you about the machine now, and we’ll do a bit of stitching, then I’ll send you home with a book with some easy receipts. That will help you until we meet on Wednesday. I’ve done most of my baking for the week this morning, but I’ll send you home with a couple of loaves of bread to help you out, and keep Gideon none the wiser—for the moment. But you have to promise me that once we’ve got you schooled in the basics over the next few weeks, you’ll tell him the truth.”
“I will. I promise!”
“And no more lying. A marriage built on a foundation of lies is bound to fail.”
“I know. You’re right.”
“On Wednesday we’ll make some more bread together at your place, and I’ll take home a couple of loaves for myself, to make up for the ones I’m giving you. I’ll also send you home with a portion of my sourdough sponge, and I’ll show you how to feed it, so that you have some ready for us to use in our baking on Wednesday. Store-bought yeast cakes are useful for some things, but a farmer’s wife should always have sourdough starter on hand.”
“That’s so generous. I am in your debt.”
“Nonsense. I expect you to make me a batch of cookies in repayment—once you can make a decent batch.” She grinned.
Elinor liked the woman immensely. She considered herself very fortunate to not only have met a close neighbor who had the free time to help her out, but who was also considerate and friendly. She had already found herself feeling very alone in the house when Gideon was out working the farm, and having a friend nearby was a priceless gift.
Chapter 15
By the time she left the Pruett farm late that morning, Elinor had learned the parts of the sewing machine, how to insert the shuttle and thread the machine, how to maintain it, and how to stitch a seam and repair a fallen hem. She also came away with a jar of sourdough, which Constance had cautioned her to take very good care of, or she’d have to start from scratch, and it would take several days to have it going really well again.
As soon as she got home, put her horse up in the barn as quickly as she could, bringing in the basket Constance had loaned her, which contained the loaves of bread, the small crock of sourdough, wrapped in a flour sack towel, and the book Constance had loaned her—The Farmer’s and Housekeeper’s Cyclopaedia.
Elinor was most excited about the book. It contained information on animal husbandry, gardening, beekeeping, and even had a section with simple receipts and cooking advice. Elinor planned to devour the book at every opportunity. Gideon would be none the wiser—after all, it taught many skills that Gideon knew she was eager to learn, particularly the care of livestock and poultry. It was perfect!
She put all the items away and sat at the kitchen table to peruse the book. The receipts it contained seemed simple enough, and made up only a small portion of the knowledge imparted by the large book. It was a veritable gold mine. She closed the cover, hugged the book to her. Perhaps the rest of the meals that week wouldn’t be a disaster!
She set about getting a quick meal ready using the Summer Soup receipt—which was essentially just a creamy potato soup. She served it with thick slices of Constance’s bread to dip in it. She hoped Gideon would forgive her for not having meat at the meal—she just didn’t have time for cooking meat. She’d plan better for any other days she spent under Constance’s tutelage, by putting on a slow-cooking stew at the far edge of the woodstove.
Gideon came in just as Elinor had the food set on the table. He had worked until sundown, for the third day in a week, even though he’d implied that he usually only worked that long a day during cutting season. She could see the weariness on his face, and was glad she had dinner ready for him.
He looked disappointed to only find potato soup for supper, once he was cleaned up and seated, he ate the food without complaint. “Mmm, the bread is tasty.”
He didn’t comment about the soup she had made. It had turned out fine, except that it needed more flavor. She noticed how much salt he’d added to his own, as well.
“Thank you. But I can’t take credit for the bread. I didn’t have time to bake today, what with visiting Constance, so she was thoughtful enough to give me a couple of loaves that she made.”
He looked up at her, surprised. “Really? That was kind of her. But…” he looked away, shifting in his seat “…the thing is…you…uh…might not want to make a habit of it.”
Elinor stirred her soup, her eyes downcast. “I hadn’t planned to make a habit of asking her for bread. In fact, I didn’t ask this time—she offered.”
“I didn’t mean to insult you,” he added, “I just wasn’t sure if you realized how busy farm wives can be. I know you wouldn’t want to be a burden on anyone.”
Tears pricked her eyes. “Am I a burden to you, Gideon?” Her chest hurt, and she struggled to suck in a breath. Did he consider her worthless already, because of her poor cooking?
“No! Not at all. Never.” He sighed. “I’ve made a mess of things. I was only trying to help, but I can see now that I’ve hurt your feelings. I’m just tired.” He slid his hand across the table and took her hand. “Ignore what I said. Please?”
She swallowed, then nodded. “I understand. I’ve ruined every meal so far. Of course you’re worried.”
“Now that’s not true,” he said. “This soup is just fine. Only thing is that…uh…”
“It needed more salt?”
He grinned sheepishly. “Maybe. Just a little.”
“I know. Somehow it doesn’t have enough flavor. I must have missed an ingredient.”
“Well, don’t beat yourself up about it. You’re in a strange kitchen, with no one to help or supervise. I’m sure you’re just adjusting.”
The guilt was overwhelming. He was tired to the bone, and hoped to come home to a hearty meal, but instead her food was nearly inedible. He deserved so much more. She needed to get more books on cooking, and to get started on some real sewing, as well, before he figured out just how inept she really was.
“Gideon, remember that you said you’d take me into town if I needed anything?”
“Yeah. Now’s as good a time as any. The second cutting is coming up soon.”
“Could you take me into town tomorrow? Constance is helping me with…a new project I’m working on. I thought it would be more fun to work together than to sew alone.”
“That sounds fine. I’m glad you’re becoming friends. We can go into town tomorrow morning. We’ll pick up any fabric and sewing items you need. Make a list tonight so we don’t forget anything, though. This may be the last supply trip into town, or the second-to-last, at least. After that, we won’t go into town until after the hay is put up.”
“You don’t harvest on Sundays, do you?”
“No. Not unless I sense that there’s rain coming. Sometimes I wish I could cut on Sundays, but the neighbors would gossip.”
“Gideon! I should think so! You’re not supposed to do unnecessary labor on Sundays.”
“Whoever made up that rule wasn’t sixteen years old and raising his siblings, when he should have been in school or getting married.” Gideon grumbled. “I worked morning to night. That is, until Ma put her foot down, and said I had to at least attend church before working on a Sunday.”
She reached over and laid her hand over his. “You’re not that sixteen-year-old boy anymore. You’re a grown man with no children. You should take the time to relax a little, before we do have a family of our own.”
He shook off her hand. “Adelaide, I don’t tell you what to do in the kitchen, so please don’t tell me how to run my farm. I said I don’t cut on Sundays if I don’t have to—and I won’t.” He took another spoonful of soup, keeping his eyes on his bowl.
Elinor slid her hand off the table, smarting from his rebuff. “Very well.”
“But you should know that during cutting time, I don’t go into town at all, not even on Sundays. Since I can’t work, I try to take advantage of it and rest up, for the coming week.”
A niggling bit of concern welled within her. “But you do read the Bible, don’t you? Or pray?”
“I…if you’d like to do that in the morning, we can. But the afternoon is for rest and recreation. And keep what I said in mind—you’ll need to plan ahead, and shop accordingly, before the second cutting.”
“I will. I’ll get up early tomorrow morning and make a thorough list of necessities, and the items for my sewing.” She smiled at him, hoping to restore his amiable mood. “Thank you, Gideon. You’ve no idea how much I appreciate your patience while I…adjust.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry if I’ve been short with you. I’m just tired, is all.” He took her hand again across the table, and squeezed it. “I have no complaints whatsoever.”
She blushed, relishing the warmth of his hand on hers. I only hope he keeps feeling that way.
***
Wednesday, September 10, 1890
Gideon saw Elinor balancing a precarious stack of packages as she exited Sanders’ Mercantile.
She turned in surprise. “There you are!”
Gideon strode toward her, keeping the paper-wrapped bundle tucked under his arm. When he reached her, he took the stack of parcels from her arms, just in time to avoid them spilling on the ground. “Sorry I wasn’t here sooner. Had something to see to.” He adjusted the packages and fabric bundles, until everything was held securely under one arm. “Looks like you got everything on your list, and then some!”
“I had a few items I needed for some special meals I wanted to try. And the calicos were discounted, so I bought several extra yards. Is that alright?”
“I won’t complain about anything delicious that’s destined for my stomach. And the extra fabric will be put to use—those dresses you brought along…they’re pretty, but a bit fancy for farm work.”
Elinor paled, and he hoped she wasn’t too tired from waiting.
“I…uh…” she stuttered a moment, then the color returned to her cheeks as her eyes rested on the parcel he was trying to hide from her. “What’s in that paper-wrapped bundle? I thought you were just checking the price of hay from your competition at the feed and seed?”
“Never you mind about that.” He changed the subject. “I’m looking forward to sampling these special meals of yours.” Then he chastised himself for mentioning it—Adelaide seemed awful sensitive about her cooking. He still couldn’t figure out why she was having such a hard time with it—she’d cooked for a horde of siblings, so why should cooking for one be such trouble?
Maybe cooking for one is strange for a girl like that! his conscience prodded him. The timing for preparing meals that come from huge stockpots and giant fry pans must be very different from cooking in your small pots and pans. It’s no wonder why she burns everything—she’s probably used to things taking much longer to heat up!
He hadn’t thought about that before. That might explain things. But still, she didn’t seem very excited about her new sewing machine either, and was reluctant to even get started on it.
Then Gideon remembered the bundles of fabric in his arm, and guilt swallowed him. Why are you so eager to find fault with the poor girl? Why, there’s yards and yards of fabric right here! She’ll be making curtains and coverlets before you know it.
He snuck a quick kiss on her cheek to allay his own guilt.
“Gideon!”
“Aw, the gossips of Helena will surely forgive an eager newlywed for stealing a quick kiss from his new bride.”
“Nonetheless, keep your lips to yourself,” she said primly, but her eyes betrayed a spark that told him she wasn’t entirely put out by his display.
They walked down the street to where Dash and Cody waited, hitched to their wagon. Once Adelaide was safely in her seat and her packages were stowed in the wagon, Gideon took his own parcel and tucked it under his arm before climbing up into the seat beside his wife. He laid the bundle in her lap.
“I got this for you. I was going to wait until we got home, but I’m so anxious to see what you think, I just can’t wait.”
“You got me a present?” Adelaide grinned. “I love presents.” She tore eagerly at the heavy brown paper wrapping, tied with twine. She slid the twine off, pulling the last of the paper with it. “It’s a book!” She flipped the heavy tome over in her hands, admiring the gilt pages and the handsome leather binding. Then her eyes fixed on the title. “The Complete Works of William Shakespeare,” she read aloud.
Gideon grinned. She was speechless! “I know how disappointing it must have been, having to leave behind all your favorite books because they were too heavy. So I bought you this. Maybe over time, we can replace your library, bit by bit.”
“Oh…my. You…you really shouldn’t have.”
“Why not? I’d do anything to make my bride happy.” He bent over and stole another peck on the cheek. Then he searched her face. “You’re happy…aren’t you?”
Adelaide didn’t look happy. She looked…strange. Her expression was like a mixture of disappointment, sadness, and…something else, which he couldn’t put his finger on.
“Oh—of course I am!” She turned and looked up at him, a smile straining her lips. “It’s a beautiful book. But…”
“What? Was yours better? I know yours was a multiple-volume set. Was there more features to it? I thought about getting you the Shakespeare Compendium and Concordance that they had, as well. I really wanted to. But I didn’t think we could afford both at once. With the sewing machine, and the fabric and such, I wanted to make sure we didn’t go over budget…” He clenched his jaw, berating himself. He should have just bought the brand-new multi-volume set he’d seen, instead of the second-hand Complete Works. He watched her as she stared at the book in her hands. “You don’t like it, do you? You wanted something else? A full set, with a compendium?”
“No, of course not. I…I just feel guilty that you’re spending so much on me. First the sewing machine, then all the fabric and sewing supplies, and now this.”
“Don’t be foolish, the sewing machine and fabric and such are all things that benefit the both of us. You’ll be making things for the house, sewing shirts for me, repairing the tears in my trousers—really, I worried that it was a thoughtless gift. That it wasn’t personal enough…that you might think it represented housework, rather than just a gift from the heart that you would treasure.”
She looked up at him, her eyes shining. “Is that why you got me this book? You didn’t think I appreciated the sewing machine?”
“Not that you didn’t appreciate it, just that maybe you’d have enjoyed a more personal gift instead.”
“Gideon,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry if I made you think that. Don’t fret about my reaction to your gift. I’ve been…out of sorts. The long journey made me so tired, and I don’t think that I’m thinking straight, even now. Once I settle in, you’ll see. I’ll show you a lot more appreciation.” She smiled up at him, placing a hand on his arm and squeezing it.
/> “Well, if you want to show your appreciation…” he let the remark hang, and relished the shocked and embarrassed look on her face as she glanced around furtively at passersby.
“Let’s go, Gideon.”
“Alright!” he gave a little whoop, and released the brake, gave the reins a little flip.
“That’s not what I meant!” She laughed, her face a lovely shade of pink. “You’re incorrigible.”
“I am, it’s true. Thoroughly incorrigible.”
She giggled and held his hand as they drove north, toward their spread. He reveled in the warmth of her small hand in his, and couldn’t help but wonder what the future held in store for him and his adorable farm wife.
Mrs. Adelaide Cartwright, he thought, savoring the sound as it echoed in his mind. He’d waited a lifetime for his enchanting wife, and her name joined with his was like the sweetest music. Someday, he knew, he’d depart this world with the precious name of Adelaide as the last thing to cross his lips.
Chapter 16
Wednesday, September 17, 1890
“Stupid, stupid thing!” she cried, curbing her urge to kick the ornate iron sewing machine stand. The fabric had bunched once again beneath the needle, and the thread had gotten hopelessly knotted under the fabric, in a tight little ball. “Why, God, why?” she moaned, her eyes rolling toward the ceiling. “Why must this be so hard! Other women can do this, why can’t I?” Tears coursed down her cheeks as she struggled to free the bound fabric from the clutches of the machine. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” she growled through gritted teeth.
“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?”
Gideon came up behind her, and she jumped. “Oh! Gideon. What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be in for supper until—” she glanced up at the clock on the mantle. “Oh no! I lost track of time, I forgot all about supper—” A freshet of tears fell again.