Forever Yours (Nebraska Series Book 9) Page 3

  He grimaced. “That has to be one of April’s books because it’s about him having to choose between two women.” He rolled his eyes. “Why would it take him an entire book to pick one? He should know right away which one he wants. I knew I wanted to be with you as soon as I met you.”

  “I’m flattered the choice was easy for you, but some people really do struggle with which person they want to spend the rest of their lives with. Jessica thought she was going to marry another man when Tom came into her life. And Sally told me Rick wasn’t smart enough to figure out he preferred her over her friend until she convinced him she was the better choice.”

  “Well, I’m better at picking the right person than they are. In the first chapter of that book, I knew the Mountie should pick Beth.”

  “You could tell that from chapter one?”

  “Of course I could. Beth was more like you. If he picks Wilma, he lacks good sense, and if that’s the case, he deserves to be miserable.”

  She chuckled. “Even though you don’t care for love stories, I’m happy you would suggest the man pick someone like me.” She paused. “What about the other books? I think I saw a mystery in one of them. You’re supposed to guess who murdered someone.”

  He shrugged. Gathering up clues and trying to pin down a murderer didn’t appeal to him, either.

  “The dime novels have shorter stories,” she suggested.

  “I tried reading one. It was about a couple of boys who were searching for treasure in a cave.”

  “That sounds like a fun story. Did they find the treasure?”

  “I don’t know. I got three paragraphs in before I lost interest in it.”

  She shook her head in amusement. “I had no idea you could be so picky.”

  “Reading isn’t fun. When you’re reading, you’re not doing anything. You’re just sitting in a chair and looking at words.”

  “That’s not true. When you’re reading, you’re living an adventure through the characters. You’re supposed to put yourself in their shoes. Go on the adventure with them. Pretend you’re one of the boys seeking out treasure.”

  He grimaced. “I don’t want to be one of them. I want to be me.”

  Mary leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “What about writing a story of your own? You can write about something you’d like to do.”

  “I want to be out there.” He gestured to the barn and fields.

  “You could write about it.”

  “Mary, that’s not the same thing as being out there, and you know it.”

  She laughed and rubbed his arm. “I know it’s hard to sit around and do nothing, but remind yourself that this is only temporary. You won’t be stuck in this chair forever.”

  “It only seems like forever.”

  “If you want, I can come out here and join you after lunch. Adam goes down for a nap then, and I only have to watch Rachel and Isaac.”

  “Time would go by faster if you were out here.”

  She rubbed his arm again. “I need to get back inside. In half an hour, it’ll be time to eat. That won’t be much longer.”

  Feeling better about the situation, he nodded and picked up his lemonade. If only he’d been more careful yesterday. He knew the rain from the other night had loosened the ground by the river. He should have gotten off of Jack and just walked down to get the hat that had blown off his head.

  Who knew Nebraska winds could make a hat fly away so fast? Next time, he would let his hat go. It simply wasn’t worth all of this aggravation. He sipped the lemonade and settled into the chair as he waited for it to be time for lunch.

  ***

  Mary glanced out the kitchen window as she washed the last dish from lunch. From her vantage point, she saw that Dave was back in the chair, his foot propped up on the ottoman. Isaac was running in the front yard with Jasper who was more than delighted to be out of the fence for a change. Mary just hoped Isaac remembered to keep the dog away from the hens.

  She turned her attention back to the sink and rinsed off the plate. Then she handed it to Rachel.

  Rachel dried it off the best she could for a five-year-old. “I’m a big girl.”

  “Yes, you are,” Mary replied. “But I hope you don’t get in a hurry to grow up too fast. I want to keep you around for a few more years.” She smiled and, on impulse, hugged the girl.

  “I need to dry the dish,” Rachel protested.

  Mary chuckled and released her daughter. “Alright. I won’t interfere with your work.”

  Mary heard Dave let out a long sigh from the porch.

  Rachel glanced at her. “Is that the wind?”

  “No. It’s your pa. He’s bored.” April thought Joel sighed a lot, but Mary bet Dave had him beat. It seemed that all Dave did was sigh while in that chair. “Your pa needs something to do. Let’s go out there and talk to him.”

  Rachel gave her the plate, and she set it on the shelf with the other dishes. Rachel put the towel on the worktable and started to run out of the room.

  “Rachel, where does the towel go when you’re done?” Mary asked.

  Rachel stopped just as she reached the threshold of the doorway and turned back to her. “I forgot.” She hurried to the towel and draped it on the back of one of the chairs.

  “Thank you,” Mary told her.

  “Welcome.” Then Rachel was running out of the room again.

  Mary finished wiping up the rest of the kitchen, collected the basket of her sewing supplies, and went out to the porch. Rachel had abandoned the idea of sitting on the porch in favor of playing with Isaac and Jasper. It was just as well. She didn’t think Rachel would be all that excited about listening to her parents talk about “boring grown-up things”, as Isaac liked to put it.

  “Is Adam asleep already?” Dave asked.

  “He’s used to taking a nap this time of day.” Mary sat in a rocking chair next to him. Usually, she sat on the porch swing, but this chair was closer. “You make it a habit of disappearing after lunch, so you miss all the excitement that happens in the house.”

  He shot her a wry grin. “I check on the animals. Sometimes I even milk a cow.”

  She stopped sorting through the items in her basket. “Would you like me to do that?”

  “No. I want you to keep me company. I was thinking of going to the barn later today and checking on them.”

  “With your injury?”

  “I have the crutch.” He gestured to the long wooden crutch next to him.

  “Yes, but it’s not easy to use, is it?”

  He shrugged. “It’s alright.”

  “But it takes you longer to get anywhere while you’re using it.”

  He thought over her words and said, “You’re right. I should go to the barn now. Maybe it’ll take me the entire afternoon to get back to the house.”

  She let out a light huff. “But I came out here to talk to you.”

  He grinned, and she saw that he was joking.

  She swatted her hand in his direction then continued looking for the potholder she was in the middle of making.

  “Actually,” he began, “it’s not a bad idea. I should do that tomorrow. I’ll go in there right after breakfast and check on the animals to make sure everything’s fine.”

  “You can’t feed them, milk the cow, or collect the eggs.”

  “But I can see how they’re doing and let you know what needs to be done.”

  “Dave, I can check the animals and see right away if they’re fine.” Noting the disappointed look on his face, she amended, “Though, now that I think about it, it would be nice if you did that while I was making breakfast so I know what to expect when I get to the barn.”

  He seemed happy by this. He even said, “That’s a good point. I’ll check them in the afternoon and evening, too. That way you can focus on lunch and supper.”

  “Are you sure it’s a good idea to do that so many times in a day when Joel told you to keep your leg propped up?”

  “I’m not going to step on it. I
’ll use the crutch.”

  She decided not to argue. He had to know it wasn’t necessary for him to make three trips. Even when he was well, he didn’t make it a habit of checking on them more than twice a day unless one of them was close to giving birth or sick. But then, if he was careful, there probably wouldn’t be any harm in it. At the very least, it would give him a sense of purpose. It was certainly better than being stuck in the chair all day.

  She found the potholder and dug it out from beneath the pile of other projects she’d started.

  “Is that for Ralph Linden to sell?” Dave asked.

  She nodded. “I thought I’d see if any women are interested in buying more. I haven’t turned anything in to him in six months. He might be out of the ones I sold him by now.”

  He frowned. “I didn’t think about the mercantile. Do you think I can drive the wagon?”

  “No. You’re not going to get in the wagon. You’ll have to stay here.”

  “But how will you get there?”

  “I’m fully capable of taking myself to town in the wagon.”

  “You’re going to go into town in the wagon without me?”

  “We’re running low on staple items. I have to go. You’ll be fine while I’m gone. I’ll take Rachel and Adam. Isaac’s old enough to help you out in case you need it. He did fine yesterday.”

  “Sure. He gave me everything but my drawers and socks.”

  She chuckled. “He wanted to make sure he didn’t see your unmentionables. His heart was in the right place.”

  “Mary, I never want to wear a pair of denim pants without underwear ever again. That was not comfortable at all.”

  She chuckled again.

  “You have it easy. You wear a dress,” Dave continued. “I bet it would be no trouble getting a dress on if your leg was injured.”

  “I’d offer you one of my dresses, but something tells me you wouldn’t look good in it.”

  He rolled his eyes, but he grinned in amusement. “I wouldn’t want to wear one of your dresses anyway. You fill them out better than I do.”

  When she glanced at him, she saw him gesturing to her breasts. She clucked her tongue at him. “It’s nice to know your injury isn’t stopping you from thinking of private matters.”

  “I don’t think there’s a man in the world who lets an injury stop him from thinking of a woman’s body. Though,” he glanced at his leg, “I don’t see how I can do anything about it right now. Do you think we won’t be able to do anything for six to eight weeks?”

  “I don’t feel safe doing anything right away, but I’m sure after a couple of weeks, we can try something as long as we’re careful.”

  “Alright. I promise not to jump up and down on the bed.”

  She chuckled. “You don’t jump up and down when we’re together.”

  “I might if I have to wait a couple of weeks. That’s a long time.”

  “You’ve waited longer than that before,” she pointed out.

  “That was different. I wanted to give you time to recover from the miscarriage.”

  She gave him an understanding smile. “I was referring to after I had Isaac, Rachel, and Adam, but yes, that time counts, too.”

  She started working on the knitting the rest of the potholder when he asked, “How long will you be gone tomorrow?”

  “I’m not sure. I was planning to see Sally.”

  “In that case, you’ll be gone until suppertime.”

  “Just check on the animals a couple of times,” she said. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

  Though he rolled his eyes, she chuckled and continued working on the potholder.

  Chapter Four

  “How did David fall off of Jack?” Sally asked the next day as she and Mary were in the mercantile.

  “I don’t know,” Mary replied. “Isaac didn’t say. I think Jack lost his footing, and he fell off.”

  “Yes, I suppose that’s possible. Horses can be unpredictable. It’s why I don’t care to ride them. I’d much rather have them pulling a buggy or wagon. Those are a lot more stable.”

  Mary had to agree, but she couldn’t imagine Dave ever giving up riding horses. He loved it far too much. She was sure as soon as he could get the splint off, he’d be up and riding again.

  “I’m not sure about these apples,” Maureen said as she inspected the group of red apples that were in a barrel. She picked one up and turned to Connie. “Do you think they’re fresh enough for our food?”

  Mary leaned toward Sally and whispered, “We better finish our shopping before they get into another bidding war with Ralph.”

  With a nod, Sally hurried to put more items on Mary’s list into the box she was holding. It was a good thing Jenny agreed to watch the children. That would make Mary’s time in the mercantile go a lot quicker.

  They had managed to get everything but two items on the list into their boxes when Maureen came over to them. “Mary and Sally, how are you two doing?”

  “We’re fine,” Mary greeted as she reached up to retrieve a sack of flour. “We’re just in to do some shopping. We’re almost done.” She didn’t want to come out and ask Maureen and Connie to wait until she had time to pay for the items before they started haggling with Ralph. She really hoped the hint would do the trick.

  “Yes, Mary needs to get back home,” Sally added.

  Maureen chuckled and clasped her hands together. “Then it’s a good thing I caught you when I did. Connie and I were just debating over how much sugar to put in an apple pie. We’re planning to make twenty of them to sell next weekend.”

  “That’s a lot of pies,” Mary said.

  “Yes, but we’re determined to make a go at our business. Just because we’re women, it doesn’t mean we can’t be industrious. Why, Jenny managed to make a living all on her own before she married the deputy.”

  “It’s not that we need the money,” Connie intervened as she approached them. “We’re doing fine. We just thought it’d be fun to see how much we can make.”

  Maureen nodded. “Yes. That’s it exactly.” In a lower voice, she added, “We read an article about a woman in New York who became rich off of her own business venture.”

  “Do you want to get rich?” Sally asked.

  “No, but we’d like to be able to live in the nicer side of town and associate with the higher class in Omaha.” Maureen gave Sally a pointed look. “We heard your older brother recently joined that section of town.”

  “Yes,” Sally began, “Richard’s business has grown faster than even he expected. The family’s proud of him.”

  “I bet they are, as they should be,” Connie agreed. “We heard your family came to Omaha with nothing but the items you had in your wagons.”

  “That’s true,” Sally said.

  “Why doesn’t the editor of the paper do a story about him?” Connie asked. “It’d be an inspiring story for those of us who are just starting out with our businesses. I’m sure he could teach us something.”

  Maureen’s eyes lit up. “What a splendid idea!” She leaned toward Sally. “Your sister-in-law, Jessica, is friends with the editor’s wife. Next time you see her, you should mention it.”

  “Oh, well, I’m not sure it’d be something newsworthy,” Sally replied. “The paper is for community events and for reporting what’s happening in Omaha.”

  “The newspaper could use more good news,” Connie insisted. “I can’t speak for everyone, but it’s depressing to pick up a paper and see a lot of bad news.” She shook her head. “That story about the man who fell off the roof and died broke my heart. He was the same age as my son.”

  Maureen put a comforting hand on Connie’s arm. “I told you that you need to remind yourself that James works in a nice, comfortable office. He won’t ever risk falling off a roof.”

  Connie shivered. “It was too close to home. Anyway, that’s just one of the sad stories I recently read. There was another one about a sick woman, and then another about the train that went off
its tracks. I just can’t take it. Jessica needs to tell the editor of that paper to put in something pleasant for a change. A stranger would think Omaha is a terrible place to live if he read the paper.”

  Mary offered a sympathetic smile. “The editor isn’t trying to make anyone sad. He’s only selecting stories that are happening in the area.”

  “Well, Richard is one of the things that’s happening, isn’t he?” Connie asked.

  Mary couldn’t argue the woman’s point, so she decided not to answer.

  Sally, however, said, “I’ll mention it to Jessica, but I can’t promise anything.”

  Connie beamed with pleasure. “That’s all we ask.”

  Maureen turned her attention back to Mary. “So, how many cups of sugar do you use in your apple pies?”

  Mary shifted from one foot to another. “I’m not comfortable giving out my recipe. It’s a family secret.”

  “We’re not asking for the entire recipe,” Maureen replied. “We’re just asking for how much sugar you use.”

  Mary glanced from Maureen to Connie, noting their hopeful expressions. Well, it wasn’t like her family back in Maine was here to overhear the conversation. After a moment, she told them how much sugar she used.

  “Thank you!” Maureen gave Mary a hug, careful not to interfere with the box Mary was holding.

  “And thank you for talking to Jessica for us,” Connie said, giving Sally a hug, also careful about the box Sally was holding.

  The two friends hurried back to the apples, and Mary turned to Sally. “Why can’t I say no to them?”

  “All you did was tell them how much sugar went into your pie,” Sally said as she retrieved a small container of baking soda.

  “I know, but it’s supposed to be a recipe I don’t tell anyone about,” Mary replied. “I’m not supposed to share one single ingredient.”

  Sally offered her an understanding smile. “You want to please everyone. It’s just the way you are.”

  “Yes, but I should be able to say no.”

  “You have said no before.”

  “Not to them.” Even after ten years, the two had a way of intimidating her.

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Mary. We all have people who make us feel intimidated. Just don’t share any other ingredient with them.”