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  Realizing that Ted wanted Richie to think he had sexual prowess, she held her tongue and carried the dish to the wagon. At least Ted made something. Thank goodness. Now she didn’t have to be the odd woman out.

  The ride to the farm was pleasant enough. Richie and Miriam rode in front of them, so Megan couldn’t tell if Miriam enjoyed the ride or not. Megan had assumed that she’d be riding with Miriam and Ted would ride with Richie. But she figured since Miriam and Richie already knew each other, this worked well enough.

  During their ride, Ted told her about making a lasso for the first time that day.

  Holding onto the dish, she asked, “Do you like working out there?”

  He seemed to think about her question for a moment. “Actually, I do. It’s good to get outside and work with my hands.”

  She looked at him, noting the slight grin on his face. He enjoyed working at Ray’s farm. “What other jobs have you had? I know you did computer software support and cooking.”

  “I’ve done a lot of odds and ends. I mowed lawns, painted, delivered newspapers, and did oil changes in cars.”

  “How long did you work at Jacob Innovative Creations?”

  “Seven years. So, what about you? What job are you going back to when we return home?”

  “I’m a receptionist at a chiropractor’s office.”

  He turned down a well-used path in the grass, and she took note of the house, barn, and pasture up ahead.

  “Do you like your job?” Ted asked.

  She held onto the side of her seat to keep her balance. “I like it well enough to stay there. I got the job out of college. Do you like answering phones?”

  He chuckled. “Only when the caller doesn’t give me grief.”

  “Does that happen often?”

  “Some days are better than others. Most of the callers are nice, but I’d say about a couple calls a month end up being unpleasant. You’d be surprised at how many people think it’s my fault that their equipment isn’t working right.” He pulled the wagon up to a red barn. “Well, here we are. Do you dance?”

  “I do okay. You?”

  “Not so well. Will I embarrass you tonight?”

  She laughed at his contrite expression. “I doubt it. I’m the kind of person who slaps her fiancé with a book in front of other people because he’s kissing another woman.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Where did that happen?”

  “On the train, right before we traveled back in time.”

  “Well, if he kissed another woman while going out with you, then he deserved it.” He jumped off the wagon and walked over to her. “Though I have to say I feel sorry for him.”

  She put the dish on the floor of the wagon and let him help her down. “Why is that?”

  He set her feet on the ground. “The poor guy is obviously stupid to let someone like you go. Richie’s right, you know. You are pretty.”

  She didn’t know what to say. The compliment was so unexpected, not to mention wonderful.

  He retrieved the dish and turned to Richie and Miriam as they approached them.

  “It sure is a great evening for getting together with the neighbors,” Richie said. He held Miriam’s pie. “Did you know Miriam made apple pie?”

  “No, I didn’t. You’ll have to give me your recipe before the night is over,” Ted told Miriam.

  “Plan to spend more sleepless nights in the kitchen?” Richie joked.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”

  “You are odd.”

  While Richie and Ted exchanged quips, Miriam stood by Megan’s side. “I’m nervous,” Miriam admitted, her hands pushing back stray strands of hair the wind blew into her face. “I forgot to tell you that Esther doesn’t know I came, so please don’t tell her.”

  “I wondered why she wasn’t with you,” Megan replied.

  “I’ve done things her way long enough. I’ll never find a man if I don’t do something different.”

  “Sometimes you have to think outside the box.”

  Miriam furrowed her eyebrows. “What does a box have to do with this?”

  Realizing her mistake, she quickly added, “You know, we should go in and see who’s here. Then if you find someone who appeals to you, we can make our way over to him and talk to him.”

  She pressed a hand to her cheek. “Oh, I couldn’t be that bold.”

  “You don’t have to. I’ll do it for you.”

  Megan took her by the arm and led her inside the barn where women gathered around a couple of tables to set down the food they made. The men cleared the center of the barn, making sure the animals were taken to their stalls or taken outside to provide room for dancing. The children ran around or chased the cats to pet them. Megan took in the scene, and she had to admit that the atmosphere was festive.

  Ted and Richie came into the barn and walked over to them.

  “You’ll probably want to go over there with this,” Ted told Megan as he handed her the cobbler he’d made.

  “Thank you.” Megan took the dish, grateful that he thought to make the dish so she didn’t have to feel left out.

  “And here is your pie,” Richie told Miriam. “I can’t wait to sample a bite.”

  Miriam took the pie and smiled.

  Once the men left to help with the animals, Megan nudged Miriam in the side. “So, which one do you like best?”

  Miriam spent another minute scanning the men as they rushed to complete their tasks. Finally, she said, “I like the one pulling the dog out of the horse’s stall.”

  Megan’s eyes turned to the tall, broad-shouldered blond with a mustache. He wore denims and a checkered black and green shirt. She noted that all the men wore denims. Who knew jeans were so popular back then? Or now? She shook her head. It was still hard to believe she was in the past. And that sobering thought gave birth to the reality that when she was born, these people were already dead. But here they were, the past come to life. She’d read about this time period in history books while in school, and it didn’t once occur to her that the people she read about were like the ones she was interacting with now. For some reason, they’d seem so far removed that they were just names on paper.

  And that gave her a chilling feeling, for a hundred years from her time, that’s all she’d be too. Just another name on a piece of paper, or drifting through cyberspace, or whatever the technology would be at that time. Someone might even read about her. And what would they think? Would they stop to think that she had her hopes, her dreams, her heartaches, her joys?

  Miriam called her name.

  Megan blinked and turned back to her new friend, aware that as soon as she returned to the future, this lovely woman standing before her would have passed away. She’d have to look up the records for Miriam Smith and see if she ever did get married. Did she have children? Grandchildren and great-grandchildren? Maybe Megan had interacted with this woman’s descendant and didn’t even know it.

  “We should put these over there,” Miriam said. She pointed to a short, chubby blond who looked to be five months pregnant. “That is Claire Gordon. She’s Ray’s wife. I know her from the sewing circle. She’s your age and those five kids with the blond hair are hers.”

  Megan’s mouth nearly dropped open. Claire was thirty-four and had five children and one on the way? Well, it made sense, didn’t it? If women married early and they didn’t have birth control like they did in Megan’s time, they’d have a lot of children. A careful examination of the young faces around her who wiped a snotty nose or hugged a wailing child reminded Megan of her biological clock which ticked loudly in her ears.

  She hated this. Hated the reminder that she was losing time to have a child. In order to have a child, she needed to find the man to marry. And she was no closer to finding him than she was a year ago when she’d met Mike. Closing her eyes for a moment so she could force back the urge to cry, she took a deep breath. Once she could safely breathe without choking on a tear, she opened her eyes and joined Miriam at the ta
ble.

  As Megan set the cobbler down, Miriam introduced her to Claire who, in turn, introduced her and Miriam to the other women. There were twelve women who were older than Megan, and they made Megan feel better about being older than average.

  “You’re Ted Jacob’s wife?” a lady with gray hair asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Ted’s a hard worker. Even when he doesn’t get something right the first time, he keeps on trying.”

  Claire smiled. “That’s Ray’s mother. She has a soft spot for anyone who can fall off the horse and get right back on.”

  “Ted fell off a horse?” Megan asked. Why hadn’t Ted mentioned it?

  “He didn’t get hurt,” Ray’s mother said. “He may have been startled, but he picked up his hat, dusted his pants, and went right back on the steed. That’s when I knew we had a good worker.”

  Claire giggled before she turned to the group of men and rang the cow bell. Everyone in the room grew quiet as they waited for her to speak. Once she instructed everyone to take a seat, Ray’s family led the group in prayer. Then everyone ate their meal.

  Chapter Eight

  After the meal, Megan pitched in to help the women collect the dishes, noting that the men stayed conveniently out of the way so they could sit around and talk. She frowned. Taking a good look at the women who seemed content to take the dishes to the house to clean, she crossed her arms. The men took the time to eat the food. The least they could do was take the dishes to the house and clean the tables and put the tables and benches away. But no. They simply stood or walked around and gabbed.

  Miriam nudged her in the side. “I’ll clean that for you.”

  Megan’s eyes lowered to the baking dish in her hands. True, Ted cooked the cobbler. She couldn’t fault him so much for avoiding the clean up, but from the way Richie talked, she doubted that other men pitched in to help with any of the housework. Well, maybe she could do something about that. She handed Miriam the dish.

  Miriam went to the house.

  Megan shook her head, her jaw clenching tighter as she took in the way the women either hastened to go back and forth for the dishes or wiped the tables with soap and water. That was it. She couldn’t take this anymore. She spun on her heel and approached the closest group of men. She cleared her throat and tapped her foot on the barn floor.

  The four men, who seemed to be Richie’s age, stopped conversing and looked at her, as if surprised to see her invade their little group.

  “The women are working hard,” she said.

  They gave her a blank look. Did they even hear her?

  “I don’t think the women should do all the work,” she pointed out.

  Finally, one of the men said, “That’s their job.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “What?”

  “The women always do that.”

  “And you men never once offered to help?”

  “Why should we?” a redhead asked. “We work in the fields all day.”

  “And they cook and clean all day,” she replied. “Some of them even watch the children.”

  “Because that’s their job,” the blond said, as if he were talking to a five year old. “We work outside. They work inside. We take care of the animals and fields. They take care of the house and children.”

  “Haven’t you noticed that when you were growing up?” the redhead asked.

  Sticking her chin up in the air, she coolly replied, “For your information, my father helped my mother out. They made a schedule of who did what and when. It was a very orderly system, and you’d do well to learn from it.”

  They burst out into laughter.

  She gasped, appalled that they would show such disdain for her wishes.

  “It’s no wonder that Ted had to be forced into marrying you,” the redhead said as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “Oh goodness. You’re an unusual one.”

  Her cheeks grew warm. “Excuse me but what I am talking about is respect.”

  That made them laugh even harder, which she didn’t think was possible considering the way two of them bent over and slapped their hands on their knees.

  “Hey, Charles,” the blond called out to another group of men. “You’ve got to hear this!”

  She glared at the blond. “You have no right to treat me like a child.”

  The redhead shook his head. “He’s not.”

  Placing her hands on her hips, she narrowed her eyes at him. “I know when someone’s making fun of me.”

  The blond patted her head. “We think you’re adorable. We heard you wear undergarments in public, so it stands to reason you have some peculiar ideas.”

  She shoved his hand away. “What I am talking about is respect. If that’s a new concept to you, it’s because you’re a bunch of Neanderthals.”

  The redhead scrunched his nose. “A bunch of what?”

  The one called Charles and two older men came over to them. Charles looked at the blond. “What’d ya want?”

  The blond motioned to her. “She thinks we need to wash dishes and clean the tables.”

  Charles glanced at her as if she grew a second head. “You joshing us?”

  The man standing next to Charles leaned forward and studied her for a moment. She met his gaze and stood her ground. She wouldn’t back down to any of them!

  He turned to his friends and shrugged. “I think she’s serious. She’s got the look of a viper in her eyes. You’d better watch out or she’ll strike you.”

  “Ma’am,” Charles began, tipping his hat slightly back so she had a clear view of his eyes, “there is a division of labor. Now, I don’t know how things were done where you come from, but in Fargo, the men and women have different roles.”

  The blond nodded. “Exactly.”

  “The women are happy. We’re happy. There’s no sense in making trouble. My recommendation is for you to do your part and help them.”

  She motioned to the women and snapped, “Look at them! They’re sweaty and exhausted.”

  “And what are you doing to help?”

  “Getting you men to do your part.”

  “Our part? Ben, Lenny and I are fixin’ to get the fiddle and banjos ready for the dance. We’re doing our part.”

  “And you expect them to dance?”

  “Of course. They like to dance.”

  “They’ll be too tired to dance.”

  “They haven’t been too tired before. They won’t be now.” Charles sighed and glanced at the rafters before setting his gaze back on her. “You’ve got a lot to learn about being a wife.”

  “He said it,” the blond agreed. “You may be pretty but you got a lot to learn.”

  By now she was so mad that her body trembled. How dare they talk down to her as if she were a moron? “Don’t you love your wives?” she demanded, eyeing all the slime balls who snickered at her.

  “Well, I’m not married,” Charles replied.

  “Really? What a surprise.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice.

  “I may not be married, but I understand how marriage works. Men provide for the women. That’s our role. And in return, women take care of the men.”

  “You mean they cater to your every whim? They’re slaves in your homes!”

  “Hey! That’s not true. We don’t treat them like that.”

  “Hmph. You could’ve fooled me.”

  Ted and Richie hurried over to her.

  “Megan, what’s going on?” Ted asked, his gaze switching between her and the men.

  She turned to him, grateful he came to her rescue when he did. Now here was a man from her time period who’d understand how barbaric these miserable oafs were being! “I asked them to help the women clean up and they refused.”

  The blond leaned forward and slowly said, “Because that’s their job.” Once again, he was talking to her as if she were a wayward child. “Men have no place in the kitchen.”

  “That’s ludicrous,” she spat. “Men can belong in the kitchen, right Ted?” Ignoring the half-amuse
d, half-annoyed expressions on the men’s faces, she looked at him, waiting for his agreement.

  “Uh…” He winced. “Do we have to discuss this now? I mean, the women are almost done anyway and then we can get to the dancing.”

  She couldn’t believe her ears. “Ted?” Her tone came out as a warning.

  “Ted?” Charles asked, raising an eyebrow in a challenge.

  She huffed. “Don’t let them bully you.”

  Charles chuckled under his breath.

  “I feel sorry for your wives,” she told the group. “While you were sitting on your butts, they were slaving away to make your meals. You could do your part. Why, Ted made the cobbler.”

  The men gasped as if they were one collective entity.

  Ted looked at her in disbelief.

  A man nearly choked on the straw he’d been chewing on. “Ted, tell us she’s lying.”

  Richie clucked his tongue. “Mrs. Jacob, it’s not very nice to pick on your husband like that.”

  Ted directed his attention to the men who waited for his answer.

  Come on, Ted, back me up here. She put her hands on her hips and willed him to defend her. The seconds ticked like a resounding gong in her head. And the longer it took for him to speak, the deeper the feeling of dread welled in the pit of her stomach. He wasn’t going to defend her. He was going to defend the barbarians!

  Even as Ted smiled at her, she knew she’d hate what was coming. “Honey,” he began, “you made a wonderful dessert. Why don’t you take credit for it?”

  She grunted. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t come near me ever again.” Spinning on her heel, she stormed up to Miriam who had just finished putting a bench against the barn wall. She grabbed Miriam’s arm and pulled her to the open door.

  “Wha-What’s going on?” Miriam stammered as she stumbled to keep up with Megan’s angry pace.

  “We’re leaving, that’s what’s going on.”

  Miriam dug her heels into the ground. “But I’m supposed to talk to that man I wanted to meet. I believe his name is Jason. He’s the one you said you’d introduce me to. Remember?”

  Megan stopped and looked at the men. They all looked immensely pleased with themselves, and Ted, the no good rat he turned out to be, joined them in their laughter. Laughter at her expense, no doubt! Turning to Miriam, she said, “You don’t need Jason. He’s a jerk.”