His Convenient Wife Read online

  Harriett couldn’t see the girl’s reaction, but since she didn’t protest, Harriett assumed the girl nodded. Bracing herself, Harriett entered the kitchen.

  Stan set a pot on the cook stove and glanced over at her. Then he gave her a smile that made her heart skip a beat. “Hi, Harriett. I was thinking of making soup and dinner rolls. But if you don’t want them, I can make something else.”

  “Rolls,” Maggie spoke up.

  “Maggie,” he warned and shook his head.

  “Soup and rolls sound find to me,” Harriett told him. She hadn’t done anything with him, except eat, so she wasn’t sure what would happen if they actually cooked together. But even so, she pressed through and asked, “Did you want any help?”

  He smiled again. “You don’t have to do anything, Harriett. This should be a day where you can do whatever you want. You’ve done a lot for us, and I appreciate it.”

  Surprised since she didn’t think he was aware of anything she did besides make the meals, she murmured a thank you. Watching him fill up the pot with water, she said, “I don’t mind helping, and I’ve been cooking since I was seven.” Glancing at Maggie who was studying her, she told the girl, “Unless you’d like to go for a walk or play on the porch?”

  “Cooking fun?” Maggie asked her as Stan went to the pantry.

  “It depends on who you talk to,” she replied. “Some women like to cook, and some don’t.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Pa doesn’t.”

  Stan returned from the pantry with the ingredients he planned to use in the soup. “I do alright with it,” he said, “but no, it’s not my favorite pastime.”

  “Then I should help,” Harriett insisted. “I really don’t mind doing it.”

  “I don’t want to impose. You’ve done so much already.”

  “You’re not imposing if I’m telling you I want to do it.”

  He hesitated then nodded. “You’re right. I just want to make sure we’re not being a burden to you.” She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but he saved her from having to do so when he added, “If you want to help, I’d rather make the soup than the rolls.”

  “I’d be happy to make the rolls.” Up to now, she hadn’t included Maggie in the cooking, choosing instead to let the girl play while she took care of the meals. But Maggie seemed interested in what Stan was doing, so Harriett asked, “You want to learn how to make rolls?”

  “I eat them?” she asked.

  “Sure.” And maybe it would inspire the girl to eat more if she had a hand in making the foods. “Come on. I’ll let you get the things we’ll need.”

  “I’ll get something for her to stand on,” Stan told Harriett. He retrieved the step stool and placed it in the pantry. When he came back out, he gestured to Maggie. “I bet you can’t tell where the flour is.”

  The girl’s eyes lit up at the challenge, and she hurried into the pantry. “What color,” Maggie’s face scrunched up, “flooouuur?”

  “It’s flour,” Stan corrected with a chuckle. “And I’m not telling. You have to guess.”

  “Hint?”

  He tapped his fingers on the shelf ledge for a moment. “Alright. It’s in a sack that is the color of your hair.”

  The girl’s brows furrowed, and she turned to the shelf in front of her. “Is it here?” She pointed to the shelf.

  “It’s on this row, yes.”

  Then, in what Harriett thought was an absolutely adorable fashion, the girl put her finger on her lips and studied all the yellow sacks. Finally, she pointed to one. “Here?”

  Stan leaned forward. “You got lucky. One more over, and you would have picked the sugar.” He handed her the sack. “Give this to your ma, and when you get back here, you can guess where the yeast is. I’ll even give you a hint. It’s in a small yellow sack.”

  The girl brought over the flour to Harriett then ran back to the pantry. The process of gathering all the ingredients Harriett would need was going to take awhile, but after considering how much fun Stan and Maggie were having, she decided it didn’t hurt to let them play this game out.

  And as they did, she found that it was nice to watch Stan interacting with the girl. She knew he had a good heart simply because he adopted her, but she hadn’t realized they’d developed a bond. Perhaps by insisting the girl spend all her time with her, she’d upset Maggie without knowing it.

  Maggie, being a child, couldn’t voice this thought appropriately. So maybe when Maggie protested going out with her, she’d wanted to stay with Stan and help him with his chores.

  Why hadn’t Harriett picked up on it before? Maggie probably fought her as hard as she did because she thought Harriett was intentionally trying to prevent her from being with Stan. Even if Stan wasn’t her real father, she had grown to think of him as such.

  Well, Harriett would be better about this in the future. Maggie needed a mother, yes. There was no denying that. But she also needed a father.

  “I think we got everything,” Harriett told Maggie when the girl handed her the butter. “Do you want to help me make the rolls, or do you want to help your pa with the soup?”

  “Use pin?” Maggie asked.

  “The rolling pin?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sure,” Harriett agreed.

  “Do rolls.”

  Stan moved the step stool over to the worktable and motioned for Maggie to get on it. “This will make you taller.” He made eye contact with Harriett and added, “If you need anything, let me know?”

  Face warm, Harriett nodded to indicate she would. The only reason she didn’t say anything was because she didn’t trust herself to speak. He had no idea what affect he had on her, and God willing, he never would. It was bad enough he knew she’d been pining for him for years. He didn’t need to know that, even now, all he had to do was look at her and she’d do anything he wanted.

  Forcing her attention back to Maggie, she opened the sacks and started teaching her how to make rolls.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next day, Harriett decided to work on making the girl a summer dress out of the materials she’d found stuffed in the girl’s trunk. Stan had offered to take Maggie out with him when he did his chores. Harriett was surprised when Maggie looked over at her, as if seeking her permission. After assuring the girl it was fine with her, the girl let out an excited cry and hurried out the door.

  And so, Harriett had spent a good portion of the day working on Maggie’s new dress. But today, she didn’t mind being alone. In fact, it was pleasant to be sitting in front of the window where she glanced out at the fields from time to time. Once, she caught sight of Stan and Maggie passing by, and she took a moment to stare at his profile as she’d often done in the past.

  She didn’t think she’d ever get tired of looking at him. He’d always been attractive, and becoming an adult had only made him much more so. He’d gotten stronger, and his features were better defined. For the life of her, she still couldn’t understand why Rose had no interest in him. Reminding herself that she needed to give up silly notions of him ever loving her, she forced her gaze back to the cloth in her hands.

  She made good progress, and around three, she figured she could finish up the dress tomorrow. Now, she needed to start supper.

  As she was placing all the sewing items back into her basket, the door opened, and Maggie ran through the kitchen and over to her. “Cow was stuck.”

  “It was? Where?”

  “A fence. I help Pa! Cow good now.”

  “You did?”

  “Uh huh.”

  Harriett had never done anything like that in her entire life. And when she thought about it, she couldn’t think of any girls who did either. Not even Rose, despite her adventurous spirit, wanted to spend time in the fields unless it was so she could ride her horse.

  “It was fun,” Maggie said.

  “I suppose so.” At least, it was for Maggie. She, however, couldn’t imagine ever finding s
uch an activity enjoyable. Taking in the way Maggie spun in circles, she smiled. “I had no idea you liked doing boy chores so much.”

  She stopped spinning and shot her a pointed look, which was absolutely adorable. “Girls do them.”

  “Yes, I know, but typically boys are the ones who help their fathers. But,” she quickly added before she further offended the girl, “I remember hearing something about your aunt doing a lot of outdoor chores when she was growing up.”

  “Which one?”

  “Emily.”

  “Oh, Pa’s sister.”

  “You want to know something else?”

  “What?”

  “I hear she was a lot better than some of the boys her age,” Harriett said, amused by the way the girl’s eyebrows rose in interest. “So you can do those chores just fine.”

  As Harriett finished gathering her sewing supplies, Maggie asked, “What’s that?”

  “I’m making you a dress.”

  “You are?”

  “Yep. Want to see it?” Since the girl nodded, Harriett gently lifted what she had sewn so far. “You said you liked the color of the sun, so I thought I’d make it yellow.”

  “It’s pretty.”

  “You really like it?”

  “Yes. Like sun.”

  Pleased, Harriett smiled. “Thank you. I was thinking of adding a bow. Maybe right under the collar.” She pointed to the area she was talking about.

  “A bow?”

  “Let’s see if I can show you.” Harriett put the dress down and sorted through her basket. “I used to wear them all the time when I was little, and I saved my favorite ones.” She pulled out a large white one with a small fake pearl in the middle. “What do you think?”

  “Touch it?”

  “Sure.” Harriett held it out. “This will be the dress you’ll wear when you have to look nice.”

  “When?”

  “On special occasions.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like weddings and—”

  “Weddings?”

  Harriett set the bow back in the basket and tucked everything into place so it was secure. “Weddings are when people get married.”

  “You marry Pa.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “I not have dress.”

  With a soft chuckle, Harriett said, “That’s alright, Maggie. Your pa and I had a private wedding. I thought it best if we had a quiet affair.”

  “Why?”

  With a shrug, Harriett picked up the basket. “I don’t know how to explain it except to say I don’t like large gatherings.”

  Especially when she risked others’ pity. No doubt the people attending her wedding would have felt sorry for her since she married someone who had hoped to marry her sister instead. She didn’t need that kind of humiliation.

  Harriett cleared her throat. “Women also wear nice dresses when they go to church.”

  “You go church?” Maggie asked.

  Harriett was ready to ask her why she didn’t remember her since Stan went to the same church as her parents, and Stan had taken Maggie there right after he adopted her. But then, she figured the girl was young and had been grieving the loss of her real father, so she hadn’t noticed her.

  Since marrying Stan, Harriett had decided not to go to church because she didn’t want to run into people who would ask why she married him. It was enough her family and his family knew the situation. She didn’t want the entire community talking about it.

  “Um, you see, Maggie,” she began as she settled the basket on her hip, “I do go to church. Or at least I did before I married your pa. And, well…”

  “Did you want to go this Sunday?” Stan asked.

  Gasping, Harriett turned around in time to see Stan enter the room. Goodness, he was quiet. She hadn’t heard him come into the house.

  Stan took off his hat and brushed his hair back with his fingers. “I’d like to take you to church, even if it’s one that our families don’t go to.”

  “Oh.” Harriett wasn’t sure what to say. Sunday was a couple days away. “Can I think about it?”

  “Of course. I don’t want to push you into anything.”

  Glad for a reprieve, at least for the moment, she thanked him.

  “She make dress,” Maggie told him.

  “Is she?” Though Stan asked Maggie the question, he kept his gaze on Harriett.

  “Uh huh,” the girl replied. “It’s yellow.”

  Harriett’s skin flushed. “I should have it finished tomorrow if I have enough time. I made good progress today.” Realizing her voice was wavering from embarrassment since he continued to direct those wonderful eyes her way, she added, “Maggie’s small, and the dress is simple. It’s nothing fancy.”

  “It’s pretty,” Maggie said.

  “It’s not done yet,” Harriett told her, purposely avoiding further eye contact with him. Why was he still looking at her? It was completely unnerving.

  “I’ve seen your dresses, Harriett,” he said, “and you make pretty ones.”

  Since when had he noticed anything she wore? But instead of asking the question, she chose to thank him then added a quick, “I should put these away so I can start on supper,” and rushed up the stairs.

  She stayed up in her room for a few minutes to calm the butterflies in her stomach. It was easier to keep them at bay when she only saw him when it was time to eat. He hadn’t said much then. But he seemed to be seeking out ways to talk to her now.

  At breakfast, he’d come in from the barn and asked her if she wanted him to do anything for her. She’d said no, but he stayed in the kitchen, telling her how the animals were doing. She had no idea why he did it. And worse, she didn’t know how to respond. Did she say as little as possible and hope he’d go back to leaving her alone? Or did she talk to him in return and try to establish a friendship?

  He’d never care for her the way she cared for him. That much, she knew. But would it be best if she at least got his friendship? No doubt, she’d only be deeper in love with him. It couldn’t be helped. But this wasn’t just about her. It was about Maggie. She had a responsibility to the little girl, and the girl would benefit if she and Stan could be in the same room and talk to each other as friends.

  Harriett closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had to do what was best for Maggie. Yesterday and today had been a refreshing change in the girl, and there was no doubt it partly stemmed from the way Harriett and Stan were acting.

  “I can do this,” she whispered.

  Opening her eyes, she squared her shoulders back and headed down the stairs. By the time she returned to the parlor, she realized Stan and Maggie were in the kitchen.

  “What eat?” Maggie asked.

  “Nothing fancy,” Stan replied. “I’m not as good of a cook as your ma is.”

  Surprised Stan planned to help make supper again, Harriett came into the kitchen. But instead of seeing him bringing items from the pantry, she saw a box on the worktable. And Stan was making sandwiches while Maggie sorted through the blueberries in a bowl he’d set next to him.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, walking over to the box and peering down at it. It was empty. “Are you planning to put the sandwiches in here?”

  “I thought it might be nice to have a picnic,” he told her.

  “Why?”

  He stopped smearing the peanut butter on the bread and offered a hesitant smile. “I want to start over, Harriett. I regret how I acted last year at the picnic. I was stupid, and I’m sorry. I never should have treated you that way. You didn’t deserve it.”

  She didn’t know what to make of this. But he was making an effort to get along with her, and the least she could do was meet him halfway. With a glance at Maggie who was picking out the good blueberries and placing them on the table in front of Stan, she tried to figure out what she could say that would prevent her from looking like all she’d done was pine over him her entire life.

  Finally she opted to say, “It was so
long ago. I don’t remember much about that day.” Then, because she didn’t want him to mention anything else about it, she hurried to add, “I’ll be happy to have a picnic with you. I’ll find a blanket and be back to help.”

  “Thank you, Harriett.”

  Forcing a smile, she left the room and went to find a suitable blanket for the outdoors.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Perhaps the only saving grace Harriett could see about going on the picnic was the fact that Maggie was there. It allowed her a good source of distraction while she concentrated on giving the girl her food.

  And while she expected the girl to protest eating most of it, Maggie surprised her when she said, “Bluebewies and bread. Please.”

  “You don’t want a sandwich?” Harriett asked.

  The girl shook her head.

  “That’s fine.” At least she was willing to have some fruit. It was better than it’d been in the past. She waited for Stan to take his portion of the supper out then dug out the bread and blueberries. “Here you go.” She handed the plate to Maggie. “If you eat everything, I’ll give you some licorice.”

  “Thank you.”

  Harriett blinked, sure she wasn’t hearing correctly. But when Stan chuckled, she realized her ears weren’t playing tricks on her.

  “I think she got the message that night you left the kitchen,” he said then held his plate to her. “This is for you.”

  “For me?”

  He nodded then shot her that incredibly charming smile of his. “If there’s anything you don’t want, you can put it back in the box.”

  “No. I would have picked out everything you did.” She took the plate and cleared her throat. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I wanted to.”

  “Thank you.”

  As he gathered his food, she turned her attention back to Maggie. If she had to maintain eye contact with him while she ate, she’d most likely do something foolish like eat too fast or spill her drink.

  The majority of the meal went smoothly enough with Maggie and Stan telling Harriett everything they’d done for the past two days. Harriett listened, keeping her gaze on Maggie or the plate in front of her. Tearing off small bits of the cheese and sandwich provided a good distraction.